Ice Lake: Gone ColdCold HeatStone Cold

by Daniels, BJ; Daniels, BJ; Daniels, BJ

  “Just friendly curiosity.”

  He shook his head and signed. “I don’t know what Mike told you, but I wasn’t driving that car. He was giving me a lift from Graniteville after my vehicle broke down. I’d never even met him before that night at the bar. If I’d known he was as drunk as I was, I’d have never gotten into the car with him. You think about that when you’re writin’ up your tickets.”

  Interesting. Very interesting. So neither of the bozos could alibi each other for more than a few hours before she’d picked them up off the side of the road. Either one could have had the opportunity to kill Stacy Beecham, and then thumb a ride or pick up a hitchhiker once he’d discovered the highway couldn’t get him out of town.

  “Your last name?” Kylie asked.

  “Marchek. Ma’am.”

  She watched him filter into the crowd and disappear into one of the seating areas overlooking the lake—on the opposite side of the lobby from Mike.

  As the end of the line neared, Lou Sullivan joked with her. “You’re hoping one of us is someone famous and you’re g-going to sell our auto…g-graph for a fortune online, aren’t you?”

  Kylie grinned. “You’re on to me, Lou. A cop’s salary doesn’t pay enough, so I’m looking for the big bucks. Who knows, maybe I can get a dollar for your autograph.”

  Lou chuckled, then saluted her with a gloved hand. “Maybe you c-can.”

  She was smiling as he moved on and the next person stepped up to sign. Twenty minutes later, Kent thanked them all for their cooperation, rolled up the papers and carried them back to the ski patrol rooms. Meanwhile Winston Cooper summoned the maintenance team and gave them assignments on boarding up the windows, digging out the sheds and warming up the engines of the snowplows so they could clear the parking lot, sidewalks and driveway outside.

  The crew had a long night ahead of them, but not any longer than the one Kylie was anticipating for herself. She had twenty-four hours left to solve this murder and capture a killer. Once the roads were cleared and the avalanche warning was rescinded, she’d have no legal reason for keeping all these people here. Burney Novak’s partner could drive away and never be seen again.

  With Daniel at her back, making sure that no one was overly interested in their quick departure, Kylie hurried down the hall to Kent’s office. She found her brother crumpling the corner of one paper in his hand and cursing. “Kent?”

  With a nod to Daniel to close the door, he handed the paper across his desk to her. “Look at that last name on the list.”

  Kylie scrolled down, the handwriting samples she’d wanted for a comparison barely registering. Her breath rushed out of her lungs and her blood ran cold.

  Daniel plucked the paper from her fingers. “What is it?”

  “At the bottom.”

  “What kind of sick joke…?” Daniel’s eyes darkened to a stormy mix of gray and green as they swept over her face. Was that anger? Concern? Some kind of told-you-so? “You need to stop this investigation right now.”

  As if retreating now would stop events that had already been set into motion.

  Kylie sought out the strength stamped on Daniel’s grim features, wishing for a moment that she wasn’t quite so independent and he wasn’t so tormented. Because she wanted nothing more than to walk into his arms right now and have him hold her, love her, make her believe their future would be all right, the way he once had.

  “You know I can’t,” she answered grimly.

  Someone was definitely sending her a message. Taunting her. Daring her to figure this out before another woman died. Reminding her that she was the ultimate prize on the killer’s list.

  She pulled the paper from his fingers and read the last entry again. “Burney Novak.”

  “WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?” Kent asked. “Novak’s dead.”

  Daniel watched Kylie retrieve her camera from her coat hanging on a peg beside the door. Was it his imagination, or were her fingers trembling as she pulled up the photo she’d taken of the note taped to Burney’s corpse?

  Ah, hell. Tender, protective feelings that had nothing to do with keeping her alive, and everything to do with getting her chin back the stubborn, confident tilt that made her Kylie Webber, sneaked out from the recesses of his frozen soul and seeped into his blood.

  “It means that Kylie was right.” Before he understood the urge himself, Daniel slipped his hand beneath the short fringe of sable hair at her nape. She stiffened in surprise at the initial contact, but his fingers remembered the simple intimacies of touch and comfort that his heart had tried to forget. They worked their way underneath her stiff uniform collar and soothed the tight cords of tension there. Daniel rubbed away her resistance to his caress, until he heard her whisper a sigh, and she relaxed. Something in his own chest eased in that moment as well, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to end the contact with her skin. “Our killer is here. And he knows Kylie’s on to him.”

  “The handwriting matches,” Kylie said in a throaty tone that let him know the simple massage was affecting her in unforeseen ways, too. “The man who left that note on Novak’s body wrote this. Neither of you saw who was the last guy to sign?”

  “It was someone on my team,” Kent answered. “But he signed beside his name on the first page. Maybe Winston or Victoria had that sheet. I don’t know.”

  Finally, Kylie shrugged and moved away, breaking contact. “Ooh, I wish we had enough electricity to run the security cameras. We could have caught him on tape.”

  The disconnect snapped Daniel out of the intimate haze of remembered touches and feelings. He needed to regroup, refocus. He’d built emotional barriers for a reason. He’d separated himself from Kylie on purpose, so he wouldn’t hurt so much—so he could survive—if, God forbid, something should happen to her.

  “If we had that kind of power to spare, then we wouldn’t be trapped in a fishbowl with a killer,” he pointed out.

  The glare she shot him after putting away her camera indicated her fire and strength were returning, anyway. “I’m no closer to finding him than when we started.” She clenched her fists in frustration and paced across the room. “How could we miss that signature? We were supposed to keep an eye on everyone.”

  Kent made the mistake of trying to reason with his sister. “The three of us couldn’t watch sixty-plus people every single second we were there. And remember, this guy doesn’t want to get caught.”

  Kylie spun around, snapping her fingers. “Yes, he does.”

  “Huh?”

  “Why else would he sign Burney’s name?”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “I need a couple of minutes to think this through.” She linked her arm through Kent’s and flashed a smile that could almost get even Daniel to do her bidding. “Would you do me a big favor and track down Winston and Victoria? Ask if they can remember who signed at the bottom of the page.”

  “And be discreet about it, I’m assuming?”

  She opened the door for him. “I’ll owe you one.”

  Kent paused long enough to look over the top of her head to Daniel. “I don’t know what she’s up to yet, but keep an eye on this one, will you?”

  “You know I will,” he promised. He folded his arms across his chest and met her eyes straight on after she closed the door. “Kent might not get the way your mind is working, but I do. You’re going to play that perp’s game. You know what the ultimate outcome will be, don’t you?”

  At least she had the good sense not to sugarcoat the truth. She tipped her gaze up to his. “He’ll try to kill me.”

  “And the idea of retreating a couple of steps and waiting until we can get the sheriff or those FBI agents—some kind of backup—here to Ice Lake never occurred to you?”

  “I’m not going to let him kill anyone else because I sat on the sidelines waiting for help to arrive. I’m the help. I’m the one who has to protect these people.”

  “Do you even hear yourself? These are murders we’re talking about, not some hig
h school football game. We may not know who he is yet, but he knows who you are.” Daniel slid his fingers along the side of her neck to cup her jaw, needing the feel of her cool skin against his to stop the burning memories of waste and pain kindling inside him, forgetting his resolve of only a moment ago to distance himself emotionally from this woman. A harsh whisper was all he could manage. “Do you think I want to lose anyone else?”

  She closed her eyes and rubbed her cheek against his palm. Another simple intimacy they’d once shared. “I’m sorry, Daniel. I don’t want to hurt you.” She turned to press a soft, quick kiss into his palm. “But I have to do this. It’s my job.”

  And then she pulled away and scooted around Kent’s desk to study the signatures again. She was back to her logical, legal, crusading self before Daniel could regain control of the walls that were breaking down inside him.

  “There has to be some way to figure out this guy’s identity.” A frown of frustration creased the skin between her eyes and she set down the papers.

  “Does anyone else’s handwriting match the note and Novak’s signature?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “He wouldn’t make it that easy.”

  “Why sign a dead man’s name? Just to tease you?”

  “I think it’s more than that.” And while Daniel spiraled down into the darkness inside, Kylie’s eyes lit up like sapphires. She paced the room from window to door and back while she worked out her theory. “The FBI profiled the Big Sky Stranglers as a pair of serial killers. One partner was dominant, the other a submissive. Now that Novak is dead, the partner has no one to follow. He’s been doing Novak’s bidding for more than ten years. He can’t think for himself. Toss in an unexpected cop, this blizzard and being trapped at Ice Lake, and the world he knows is spinning out of control.”

  Daniel perched on the corner of the desk, letting the alternating view of long legs walking toward him, and curvy bottom walking away, distract him from the gruesome images of war and murder, with Kylie in the middle of all of it, trying to get into his head. “So he fixes his problems by killing women?”

  “He fixed his problem by becoming Burney Novak. I’m the enemy here. As a submissive, he’s not powerful enough to take me down. But he believes Burney could.”

  “So he’s assumed Burney’s identity.” That could explain the missing billfold. “Complete with a driver’s license and an aversion to female authority figures.”

  “Exactly. He’s trying to be the same deviant, conniving, powerful man Novak was.”

  “And he sees you as the only thing standing between him and getting away with murder?” Daniel snagged her wrist and pulled her to a stop before she passed him again. “Damn it, Kylie, you never should have come here.”

  “I was trapped on this side of the closed roads, just like you. It’s not as if I had a choice.” Her other hand came to rest on his knee, and other memories, more sensual images of sunshine and fresh air and a scratchy blanket spread amid a field of yellow glacier lilies, flooded his mind. “If I wasn’t here, this guy would be going after someone else. At least I’m able to fight him, to know he’s out there. Stacy Beecham didn’t have that advantage. And I do have backup. I have you.”

  Daniel covered her hand with his, capturing it against his leg, holding on as the memory of bruised dead eyes tried to cancel out the lightness of what Kylie had once meant to him. “I may not be the best help you could ask for.”

  “I will always believe in you, Daniel,” she vowed in a husky voice. “No one, not even you, will ever convince me that you’re not a good man—that you’re not someone worthy of being loved, that…you wouldn’t be there for me if I really needed you.”

  Daniel shook his head. “What I want to do, and what I think I can, aren’t—”

  “Shh.” She pressed her fingers against his lips to hush his protest. As if sensing the struggle inside him, Kylie nudged his knee to the side and boldly moved between his legs to close the distance still separating them. She cradled his jaw between her hands, gently stroking the tight line of his mouth, silently asking him to meet her questioning gaze. “Up on the mountain, you mentioned losing something…someone…? In the war? More than just your men, I take it. Someone special. Someone who shouldn’t have died?”

  Gritty tears burned beneath Daniel’s eyelids at the thought of an innocent little boy. But he refused to cry. He traced the bottom edge of Kylie’s thick belt and holster, settling his hands at her hips, anchoring them to crisp canvas and the warm curves beneath. “We’re not talking about me.”

  “Then let’s talk about me.” She reached up and brushed a stray spike of hair off his forehead. Once. Twice. And judging by the pressure on the inside of his thighs and the heat arcing between them, she was drifting closer. She was petting him, soothing him, preparing him to hear her next words. “I may not be able to understand the depths of what you’ve gone through, with the post-traumatic stress and the counseling. But Daniel, think. I bet you can understand what I’m going through. I’m fighting a war here at Ice Lake. I’ve got a lobby full of potential casualties and an enemy we can’t yet see. I’m the first, last and only line of defense those people have. Do you honestly believe I want any one of their deaths to happen on my watch? Do you think I want that on my conscience?” Her hands stilled their gentle work. The tears he couldn’t shed glistened in the corners of her eyes. “Look at how it’s eating you up inside. I…I don’t think I could stand that.”

  “Ah, hell.” He wiped away a tear with the pad of his thumb. “You do not want to end up where I am. I never want that for you, babe. You need to save them.” Dragging in a deep breath, he leaned forward and captured her mouth with his.

  Her lips parted, welcomed, filled him with heat. Every cell in his body leaped to make contact with hers. As Kylie wound her arms around his neck and pulled herself into the embrace, the unforgiving wall of Kevlar she wore pressed against his chest. It was a symbolic barrier he was crashing through, whether he was ready for it or not. He slid one hand around to squeeze her lush bottom, tunneled the other into the soft velvet of her hair to hold her mouth against his and drink up her heat and healing.

  Passion pounded through his veins with every tilt of her lush mouth, every foray of her tongue. Her grasping fingers—on his face, in his hair, inside the neckline of his shirt, skimming across the bare skin beneath—infused him with strength. The needy hums of desperation and delight in her throat fueled his own need.

  Doors that had been locked inside him burst open and crumbled into sawdust. He wanted to feel her, taste her, inhale her. God, he wanted to be inside her. His feelings had been shut off from the world for too long and now were raging through every system of his body. It was a painful reawakening, an acknowledgment inside his head and heart that had to be made.

  To become whole again, he needed Kylie. And she needed him to keep her world from falling apart.

  She was his humanity. His hope. His light. And he needed to fight his way back from the hell he’d been in, to claim it.

  “Daniel.” She kissed his cheek, nipped at his chin. “I’ve tried to give you the space you needed, but I’ve missed you. I’ve missed us.”

  Oh, yeah. He’d missed this, too.

  But the shadows had lived in his head for all these months for a reason.

  “G.I. Joe?”

  “No, kid. Captain Stone to you.”

  Suddenly his hands were full of blood. And a happy, trusting boy…

  The darkness might have temporarily lifted, but one kiss couldn’t make it disappear. This might be what he wanted, but he couldn’t let that want become a need. As much as Kylie’s patience, strength and stubborn love could heal him, it was too much of a gift to risk losing.

  “Baby… Kylie…” Daniel wrapped his hands around her wrists and pulled her fingers from his skin. He caught her palms against his thundering heart and forced some space between them. He dipped his forehead to touch hers. “We’ve got to stop.”

  She was breath
ing as hard as he was. “I know. Wrong time. Wrong place.”

  “Wrong man.”

  Her blue eyes opened mere inches from his. “Daniel—”

  “Don’t argue with me.” He looked deep into the sea of blue and willed her to understand. “Call me whatever name you want for letting that kiss get out of hand. You’ve always been irresistible to me.” Desire still pulsed through his blood. “But I don’t want to feel this way. I don’t want to feel. It’s too much.”

  Instead of slapping his face or retreating, Kylie wound her arms around his neck and hugged him. “So you care, but you don’t want to care. Am I understanding you correctly?”

  “Call me a coward—”

  “I would never.”

  “—but I don’t think I’m strong enough to fail anyone I care about again. Maybe not for a long time. Maybe never.” His arms tightened like a vise around her. “If I disappointed you, if I hurt you, if I let anyone else hurt you…”

  She shook her head, the soft waves of her hair catching in the two-day stubble of his beard. “You wouldn’t hurt me or lose me. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be you. I’m not as innocent as I used to be, Daniel. I know relationships aren’t easy.”

  He untangled her hair from his face and tucked it behind her ear as he leaned back. “I don’t want to give you false hope that we could make something work, or ask you to wait for me to get my head screwed on straight. It wouldn’t be fair to you. And you’re so strong and full of life and hope—I don’t ever want to be the man who crushes that beautiful spirit of yours.”

  She nearly crushed his neck as she hugged him again. She was such a fighter. She turned her lips to his ear and whispered, “What if I’ve got enough hope for both of us?”

  Daniel was pulling away from that hug when Winston Cooper knocked on the door and came in. The hammering of the workmen down the hallway was a welcome cover for the guilt, passion and regret still drumming inside him.

  “Sorry.” The lodge manager cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you two were still…? Sorry.”

  Daniel pushed himself to his feet, faintly alarmed by the man’s shallow breaths and pallor. “What is it, Winston?”