by Karis Walsh
Kira was thrown against Abby as they rocketed into the first curve, and Abby’s touch stilled while Kira’s weight was on her. The car came out of the turn and plummeted down the steepest hill without a pause for breath. Kira was flung away from Abby as they straightened and dropped simultaneously, and Abby took the opportunity to tighten her grip, flexing her fingers against Kira. Kira gripped the safety bar to keep from crawling right out of her skin, and she ground down onto Abby’s hand with an almost frenzied movement.
A hard turn to the left pinned Kira against the side of the car while Abby found a rhythm that matched the beat of the metal wheels as they spun over the joins in the track. The series of shorter but more rapid hills on the far side of the coaster built the pressure inside Kira. Space was in motion, but her consciousness was grounded on Abby, in Abby. She heard Abby’s voice call her name as they whipped around the final, steep curve and dropped into the tunnel with a burst of energy. The sudden, firm pressure from Abby’s fingers was timed perfectly with the last stomach-dropping descent, and Kira climaxed with a shocked gasp. The car jolted to a stop, and suddenly the world around her sprang to life again. People were climbing out of the car, laughing and talking. Abby was helping her to her feet and toward the exit. As soon as they were off the wooden platform, Kira stopped to rest with one hand against the fence surrounding the ride.
“That was fun,” Abby said, in her nonchalant way.
Kira gave a strangled laugh and shook her head. “Fun? You’re insane.”
Abby looked at her with a furrowed brow. Not quite a frown, but maybe an expression of concern. “I couldn’t stop,” she said. “I touched you, and you were so hot, so wet. The feel of you pulsing against my palm…I…” She stopped and shook her head. “Should I apologize for what I did?”
“God, no,” Kira said. “Don’t say you’re sorry. Maybe we rushed into this, and maybe I’ll have second thoughts later, but I didn’t want you to stop.”
They started back toward the 4-H barn. Kira smoothed her hair and retied her ponytail. She must look flushed and a little bewildered, but so did most of the people getting off rides. Abby was quiet as they walked, and Kira didn’t know if she was having regrets.
“I was tied down this weekend,” she said. “Locked in a trunk. I felt scared and trapped. I guess I needed a wild and freeing experience, and you gave me one. It was good for me.”
Abby smiled at her. “It was damned good for me, too.”
Kira was about to respond when Abby’s brother stepped in front of them. They both jerked to a stop.
“Well, well. What a pair you two make. An accomplice to murder and a self-righteous bitch. She must be a damned good lay to make you compromise your sacred morals, little sis.”
Abby stepped in front of Kira, just like she’d done when Dale had accosted her. “Shut up, Rick, and leave us alone. She had nothing to do with Milford’s shooting.”
He leaned around Abby and pointed at Kira. “Don’t think his death means you get to save your precious swamp. I’ll build on it, even if I have to pour the cement myself.”
“I said leave her alone.” Abby’s voice was low and threatening. Kira wasn’t surprised when Rick took a step back. She wanted to as well.
“Tad had the names of all your fanatic environmentalist friends. As soon as I find out which one killed him, I’ll make them pay.”
Rick walked away, leaving Abby and Kira in the center of a ring of people who had stopped to gawk at the argument. They slowly dissipated until Kira and Abby were alone again.
“What did he mean, Kira?” she asked. “What names?”
“I have no idea.” Kira couldn’t get past his accusations. Did he think one of her volunteers shot Milford and then left her tied to the chair? “My people care about wetlands, but not enough to kill for them.”
“Kira, I know. But we need to find out what information Milford had before Rick gets to it.”
“How?”
“We have to get Milford’s files.”
Chapter Twenty
Abby paced the hallway in the police station near the visitor’s entrance while she waited for Kira to arrive. She had been moving on autopilot since Rick had accosted them on the midway the day before. Somehow, she’d managed to hold herself together for the competition, and she’d cheered as Julie and Nirvana had left the ring with another reserve champion ribbon in Showmanship and a fourth place ribbon for Stock Seat. The 4-H riders and horses were required to leave as soon as the championship classes were finished, so the stalls could be prepared for another group of competitors that would be arriving the next day. Abby had offered to help them take Nirvana back to her home barn, but she was relieved when Kira said no. Abby wouldn’t have been much help with her right wrist out of commission. Even less useful was her mental state. She was furious with Rick. She had experienced various strong emotions over the years when dealing with her family—disgust, contempt, anger—but never the white-hot rage she’d felt when he publicly attacked Kira. Abby was nearly frozen by her own response, and by the growing attachment to Kira that had provoked it. Abby had gone from ecstasy to distress in a matter of seconds, and even now, she was still reeling from the confrontation with Rick.
Her body was still hypersensitive after touching Kira. But something deeper had been touched at dinner the previous evening. She had accepted the invitation because she’d wanted to make sure Kira was safe and hadn’t been followed to her home yet again. But the evening had turned out to be unexpectedly beneficial to her. Nutritious food, fun company. Abby had felt herself slipping into the family unit even as part of her hung back and watched from the sidelines. Kira’s kiss had drawn her in completely, though, and if Abby hadn’t been nearly asleep on her feet, she’d have wanted to immerse every part of her into Kira. As it was, she had needed all her remaining strength to keep from going back into the living room where Kira slept.
Abby saw Kira walking across the lobby. She made Abby lose control, her perspective. Now she was dealing with life—Rick, her desire for Kira—in a gut-level, reactionary way. She needed distance to help her regain her composure, her calculating assessment of the world around her and her role in it. Kira made her stomach drop more wrenchingly than the roller coaster. The feeling was an exciting one, no doubt, but it challenged Abby’s comfort zone too much.
“Hey,” Abby said when Kira came through the glass door. She stepped close to Kira and spoke in a low voice. The intimacy of having Kira in her personal space was overwhelming to Abby, but she didn’t move away. Kira gave her the same feeling as taking a deep, cleansing breath. Her tight muscles relaxed and the world became still, even as her body responded to Kira’s in a shockingly electric way.
“I was thinking about you last night,” Abby said. “Did you get Nirvana home safely?”
“Yes,” Kira said. “I think she was glad to be back in her own stall.”
“I’m sure she was.” Abby frowned. She needed to take a breath without feeling Kira everywhere inside. “Bryan Carter is waiting for us, but do you mind if we talk first? Just for a few minutes.”
Kira nodded, and they walked in silence to Abby’s office. She shut the door behind them and sat across from Kira. “About yesterday—”
Kira held up her hand and stopped Abby. “Please don’t apologize again. It was amazing. But I don’t think I’m ready for anything more.”
Abby picked up a pen and slid it through her fingers, end over end. She had to keep her hands occupied or she’d reach for Kira. She had been determined to be resolute and follow her common sense instead of the tantalizing memory of how it felt to touch Kira.
Kira faltered. She was staring at the pen in Abby’s hand, but she swallowed visibly and looked away before she continued. “I just…I can’t be with someone who will always try to take charge. You took over when Dale was bothering me, without giving me a chance to take care of myself. And even after I asked you not to do it again, you did the same thing yesterday.”
How co
uld Kira have expected her to do anything but defend her? She knew Abby devoted her life to helping the people her brother hurt. Besides, he had been attacking Abby as well yesterday. “Rick is my brother. I know him. It’s only natural that I’d be the one to confront him.”
“Yes, it’s only natural,” Kira said. “Abby, you will always step in to rescue me. It’s who you are. I don’t want to be rescued.”
Kira’s argument sounded weak to her, but it was said with conviction. Abby wondered if Kira was searching for an excuse to break things off because she was afraid, just like Abby was.
“Abby, you’re too complex, too wrapped up in your family’s misdeeds, too involved in the world of violence and danger. Too, too much.” Kira shook her head and closed her eyes. “I need someone calm and moderate. My emotions have been on a roller coaster long enough.”
“You’re right,” Abby said, her voice sounding as expressionless as her face felt. Suddenly, she wasn’t the same woman who had laughed and played with Kira at the fair or at dinner. She felt drained—but it was what she wanted, wasn’t it? To let go of the passion and keep the rationality? She wasn’t convinced, because the sense of loss left her too hollow and empty. “It’s who I am. It’s what I expect from a relationship. I protect when necessary, and I’m protected in turn.”
Abby stood up. She wasn’t going to argue with Kira or try to change her mind. She should be relieved that Kira had been the one to shut the door on a romantic relationship since she had considered doing the same thing, but she didn’t feel relieved. All she could feel was Kira’s warmth on her hand and the waves of Kira’s laughter sliding over and through her.
“Carter is waiting for us,” she said. “We should get to work. I won’t recognize the names of your associates like you will, but if I see anything related to wetlands, I’ll show you. This shouldn’t take long since all we need to do is skim through his notes.”
Abby locked the office behind them and took Kira to the same conference room she had been in before. There were boxes stacked around the room and on the table. Carter was rearranging a wobbly pile of plastic bins in the corner of the room. Abby could see notebooks and accordion files through the clear plastic. She groaned. She had been wrong—this was going to be a long day.
“This is the last of it,” Carter said. “We’ve started going through the files, but we haven’t found anything significant yet. I was glad when Lieutenant Hargrove called yesterday and said you’d be willing to help with this part of the investigation, Ms. Lovell, even though Tad Milford caused you so much pain. Anything you can find that might help us catch a killer will be appreciated.”
“I’ll do what I can,” Kira said.
He handed her a paper to sign. “We’re listing you as an expert witness since in your professional capacity you should be able to identify notes relating to Milford’s properties and whatever legal or personal trouble he might have been having in regard to them.”
Kira signed her name and sat down at the table. Abby sat next to her, reached for one of the boxes, and started to sift through the papers inside.
“It’ll take months to go through all this,” Abby said as she pulled a wad of handwritten notes out of a box. “Hadn’t this guy heard of a computer?”
“Yeah, how crazy does someone have to be to have all these files stored in their office?”
Kira gave her an exaggerated look of disgust and Abby had to laugh, thinking of Kira’s reaction when she’d first seen Abby’s own room full of files. “It’s not crazy. It’s a sign of genius,” she said.
Kira shook her head. “Hardly,” she said, but she was smiling.
Abby turned to her stack of notes and slowly began to decipher Tad’s messy handwriting. She felt the world right itself again when her sense of camaraderie with Kira returned. They settled to work in silence, punctuated by the occasional rustle of papers. Carter sat at one end of the table with what looked like account books. Kira and Abby took over the other end and soon had it covered with the piles of notes and lists they’d sorted.
After an hour of squinting at Tad’s writing, Abby volunteered to go to the break room to get coffee for everyone. She was on her way back—slowly, since she was dreading her return to the tedious and seemingly useless task of organizing Milford’s mess—when Rick’s duty partner came around the corner and nearly knocked the paper tray of coffee down the front of her shirt. She used her bandaged right hand to straighten one of the cups and winced at the movement.
“Lieutenant,” he said.
“Anderson.” She was happy with the bare-minimum exchange, but he seemed to have more on his mind.
“You’ve got to cut him some slack, Lieutenant.”
“Excuse me?” Abby asked. She’d never really liked Anderson. Mostly because of his association with her brother, but also because he seemed morally ambivalent to her. Supporting and idolizing Rick, but not actively involved. On the fence.
“Rick. I heard he said some things that got out of hand yesterday. He’s broken up about losing his friend, and he needs his family to understand. You’re helping the woman who might be responsible for Tad’s death, and Rick was upset about it, that’s all. For good reason.”
Abby didn’t know which part of his little speech to address first. She stared at him without speaking until he shifted away from her an inch or so. “For one thing, do not talk to me about my family or my obligations to them again. More important—and I want you to really hear what I’m saying—Kira was not to blame for Milford’s death. She was a victim of his greed and cowardice. If I hear any more rumors around here that she somehow played a part in his shooting, I will hold you personally responsible. Do we understand each other?”
He took another step back and nodded before he turned and walked toward the locker room. Coward.
She was glad Kira hadn’t been there to hear her defending her yet again. Was Rick’s grief just for show, to deflect attention because he had killed his business partner himself? Even if Rick truly was as broken up as Anderson said, he didn’t have the right to accuse Kira or to criticize Abby for spending time with her. It was his fault she’d met Kira in the first place. He seemed to see her actions as a family betrayal when she hadn’t felt like part of her own family for years. She got to the conference room and paused outside. Just how angry was Rick with her? Angry enough to give her horse a stimulant and cause an accident? She stared down at her wrist. She had broken it against a wooden beam, but who was the real cause of her injury? She sighed. Maybe the answer was in one of Tad’s boxes. Or maybe it was completely unconnected to Kira and Milford. She had too many questions and not enough answers. She had to focus on the task at hand and keep going through these scattered notes and disorganized files. Maybe some clue here would lead to the answers she needed—it would be fitting if the answers to this convoluted case would be hidden in the chaos of Tad’s paperwork. She bumped the door open with her hip and set the tray of coffee on the table.
Kira and Bryan mumbled their thanks without looking up from the papers they were reading. They worked for the next hour without saying much. Abby and Kira were close enough that every once in a while they’d bump elbows or knees when one or the other reached for another stack of paperwork. Abby tried to ignore the tingling sensation she felt each time they touched and concentrate instead on what she was reading. Tad had collected copious notes on every city official and every zoning law in the county. He had maps of every Tacoma neighborhood with information about home owners and land-use restrictions. He had been a despicable man, but admittedly thorough in his job.
She noticed immediately when Kira went still beside her. One moment she was relaxed and flicking the corner of a piece of paper while she read, and the next she froze as if made of stone. Abby looked at her and saw the emotions flashing across her face. Whatever Kira was reading disturbed her, and she glanced at Carter and then at the door. She seemed to be considering her chances if she fled with the evidence.
“Kira,” Abby
said softly. “What is it?”
“Did you find something?” Bryan asked from the other end of the table.
“No…I…well, yes.” She hesitated before she pushed the notebook in front of Abby.
Bryan stood over her shoulder and read along with her. Abby felt her blood pressure rise as she turned the pages and saw the personal notes about Kira. There was detailed information about Julie, including her school, her teachers, and her friends. Kira’s past attempts to protect wetland areas were analyzed, with explicit information about why she’d won or lost cases and where she’d made compromises with developers. Her volunteers were similarly analyzed, with marks next to each indicating whether they were committed to her cause or able to be dissuaded.
“Look at this,” Carter said. He traced his finger along the lines as he read about Keith’s arrest for assault during a college protest, when he’d still been a juvenile. Two other volunteers had similar episodes in their pasts. Abby guessed this was the information Rick had been after. Bryan scribbled in his notebook as he read.
“Is all of this public knowledge, Ms. Lovell?” he asked.
“Some of it.”
“Then do you have any idea where—”
“Dale,” Abby said. Kira nodded. Abby remembered her saying that Dale had been interested in hearing all about her work, all the details. Apparently Tad had been interested, too.
“Dale?” Carter asked.
“Dale Burke, Milford’s stepsister,” Abby said. Kira was pale and silent. “She and Kira used to date.”
“Ah. I’m sorry.”
Abby flipped through the pages again. She was bothered by the contrast between the scrupulous details listed in the notebook and Tad’s brutish treatment of Kira. “If he had all this information, why did he stoop to kidnapping? Why not use it to fight you legally and with less personal risk?”