Intuition

by Carol Ericson

  His face broke into a grin, banishing the spell, and Kylie shook her head. “It’s something I need to do on my own.”

  “Let’s get this part over with first.”

  Ducking into the clearing, Matt held back some branches for Kylie and they both stood on the edge of the bowl taking in the activity.

  Matt snorted. “It’s probably the hardest these kids have ever worked for anything in their lives.”

  “You have to admit, it’s kind of genius the way Sloan handles this event. He gets a bunch of local kids to do most of the work and pays them in food and an early entrance to the concert so they can get the good places up front. He must be saving a bundle.”

  “Do you think Bree helped with the setup?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

  Entwining his fingers through hers, Matt led the way through the press of people, setting up trash cans and erecting pop-up tents on the sidelines for information, lost and found and first aid. As they got closer to the stage, the noise intensified—pounding, drilling, buzzing. Kylie’s nose twitched and she sneezed after breathing in wood dust.

  One man commanded center stage, his silver hair glinting in the rays of sun that managed to sneak through the heavy foliage. His black turtleneck, tight jeans and pointed black boots marked him as an outsider among the saggy jeans, baggy T-shirts and flip-flops or work boots of the others.

  Matt squeezed her hand. “That’s our man.”

  At that moment, Harlan Sloan jerked his head in their direction and his light-colored, piercing eyes skewered Kylie. She drew in a sharp breath.

  He knew.

  “Are you coming?” Matt tugged her hand, as he moved toward the steps on the side of the stage.

  There were enough workers scurrying around and on the stage that nobody halted their progress, taking them for another set of locals. Matt’s confidence carried them all the way to the middle of the stage where he planted himself in front of Sloan.

  He stuck out his hand. “Harlan Sloan? I’m Matt Conner. Bree Harris’s family hired me to look into their daughter’s disappearance three years ago.”

  Sloan’s gaze darted from Matt’s hand to Kylie’s face before he shook hands with Matt. “I’m afraid I don’t know what happened to that poor girl, Mr.…”

  “Conner. Can we ask you a few questions? I’m sorry—” he gestured toward Kylie “—this is Kylie Grant. The family also retained her services.”

  Kylie didn’t offer her hand and Sloan didn’t either, a curt nod his only form of acknowledgment.

  “You can ask, Mr. Conner, but I won’t be of any help. I did promote the concert that year. I met the girl because she volunteered, but I didn’t see her much. And I certainly didn’t see her the night she disappeared.”

  “And yet—” Matt scratched the scruff of his beard “—you didn’t work on this event for the two years following Bree’s disappearance.”

  Sloan laughed, an unpleasant sound that caused Kylie to clench her jaw. “And you read all kinds of nefarious implications into that, Mr. Conner? I hope that’s not what you used to convince the Harris family to reopen the case.”

  Matt smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes or light up his whole face like his grin did. “I didn’t have to convince the Harrises of anything, Mr. Sloan. And this case can’t be reopened because it was never closed—Bree Harris is still missing.”

  “I can’t help you.”

  “And your roadies? Your security? Are you using the same bunch you used three years ago?”

  “I haven’t a clue.” Sloan gestured around the stage. “But you’re welcome to ask them. I’m sure a few of the same workers are on board for this Rockapalooza. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do.”

  He turned on his heel and strode backstage, shouting orders.

  Through narrowed eyes, Matt watched Sloan retreat. “Smooth operator. What about you? Did the cat get your tongue?”

  Kylie shivered. “I don’t like him.”

  Matt studied her face. “Did you get some kind of vibe off of him?”

  “Yeah, and not a good one.”

  “Doesn’t seem to mind if we question the hired help though, so let’s get busy.”

  “Right.” Kylie tipped her head toward a group of young women securing electrical tape along the wires crisscrossing the stage. “I’ll start with them.”

  “And I’ll start with the show roadies.” Matt shaped his fingers into a gun and fired at her. “Good luck.”

  Kylie picked her way across the stage, dodging people and equipment. She crouched beside the girls, giddy with excitement and bubbling with gossip.

  “Hey, can I ask you a few questions?”

  The girls turned their shining eyes on her.

  “Sure.”

  “What about?”

  “Okay.”

  Kylie sat down, crossing her legs. “Do you get paid for doing this?”

  A pretty redhead shook her curls. “Not with money, but we get wristbands that get us early entrance to the concert on opening day.”

  “And if we’re lucky, we get to meet the band members if we’re here when they show up for a sound check.” The brunette winked at the other girls.

  “Forget the guys.” The tall, slender African-American woman snapped her fingers. “I’m here for the free food.”

  The redhead pushed her. “You are so not here for the food.”

  Kylie smiled, feeling ancient at thirty. “Have you girls ever heard of Bree Harris?”

  The African-American girl and the redhead shrugged. “No. Is she a new act?”

  “I know who she is.” The brunette bit her lip and glanced at the other two. “When my mom heard I was going to help out with Rockapalooza this year, she warned me to be careful.”

  The redhead snorted. “Your mom’s always warning you to be careful.”

  “Bree Harris disappeared from this concert three years ago.” Kylie wrapped her arms around her legs. “I believe she was working, just like you girls.”

  “Yeah, that’s what my mom told me.”

  “Maybe she ran off with a musician.” The redhead tugged one of the African-American girl’s long braids. “Just like Myesha’s going to do.”

  “Only if we take some food with us.”

  Kylie’s announcement about Bree hadn’t impressed the girls too much. Only the petite brunette seemed shaken out of the giggles.

  Kylie pushed to her feet. “You girls be careful out here. If you see or hear anything weird, tell someone about it, and don’t go off with any musicians.”

  They mumbled and snickered and continued crawling along the edge of the stage, laying down electrical tape.

  Kylie’s gaze wandered to Matt, left hand in the pocket of his jeans, tattoo snaking up his forearm. All he needed was the long hair he used to have in high school, and he’d fit right in with this rock ’n’ roll crowd again.

  He caught her eye and gave her a thumbs-up. Did that mean he was having more success than she’d had with those clueless girls?

  Creak. Creak.

  At the ear-splitting noise above her, Kylie threw her head back. Huge, round klieg lights teetered on the edge of a wobbling platform. Her brain screamed run, but her feet were rooted to the stage, like the proverbial deer, her eyes mesmerized by the lights.

  As if in slow motion, the spheres toppled from their perch on a path straight toward her.

  Chapter Seven

  “Kylie!” Adrenaline pumped through Matt’s system so fast and furiously, his feet were moving before his brain had given them the command.

  What was she waiting for?

  Someone screamed.

  Matt didn’t have the time or the position to tackle her, so he hooked an arm around her waist and took her with him as he charged past the falling lights.

  As his arm plowed into her middle, she expelled a puff of air. A metal pole scraped Matt’s hand and he staggered toward the edge of the stage, finally crashing into a man-sized speaker.

 
The klieg lights hit the stage behind him, bounced once and rolled into the first-row seats.

  Matt peered over Kylie’s head. Thank God the lights had banged into an empty row. Everyone had seen the catastrophe unfold and had scattered out of the way.

  Everyone but Kylie.

  Her body, pressed against his, began to shake and her knees buckled. Matt scooped her up in his arms and carried her off the stage. He settled her on the soft grass as people on the stage sprang into action.

  “What the hell just happened?” One of the workers stomped across the stage and leaned over. “Is she okay? Miss, are you okay?”

  Matt ran his hands along Kylie’s arms. “You okay?”

  She nodded, her eyes wide and glassy.

  “She’s fine, just shaken up. Anyone have some water, or better yet some booze?”

  Asking for booze at a concert event was like asking for lollipops in a candy store. Three flasks and a can of beer materialized before him. Matt took a silver flask from the most reputable-looking person in the lot and unscrewed the lid.

  He slid his arm beneath Kylie’s head and hoisted her up. “Take a swig of this just to stop the shaking.”

  She opened her mouth and he poured a splash onto her tongue. She swallowed and choked, which was the perfect response.

  “Who was in charge of those lights?” Harlan Sloan loomed above them on the stage, angry sparks shooting from his light-colored eyes. “We can’t afford mistakes like that at this show, especially this show.”

  One of the workers stepped forward. “I put the lights up there, Mr. Sloan, but they were secure. I made sure of that.”

  “Not secure enough.” He spun around and leveled a finger at the rest of the workers gathered onstage. “If you’re not ready to put up the lights, leave them on the ground.”

  He crouched on the edge of the stage. “Are you all right, Ms. Grant? Do we need to get an ambulance out here?”

  Struggling to sit upright, Kylie found her voice. “I’m fine. Nothing hit me. Matt got there just in time.”

  “I apologize.” Sloan jumped to his feet and swept an expansive arm in front of him. “If you’re not a paid worker with workers’ comp, get off the stage.”

  The young people who had come to help out grumbled and shot dirty looks at Kylie as if it were her fault a light almost beaned her.

  Matt handed the flask of whiskey back to the roadie and kneeled beside Kylie. “Feeling better?”

  “At least my hands stopped shaking.” She held her hands in front of her. “Don’t know if I can say the same about my knees.”

  “Didn’t you see the lights falling?” He pushed up and extended a hand to her. He felt like hauling her to her feet and wrapping his arms around her.

  She took his hand, stood up and promptly swayed, which gave him a good excuse to put his arm around her shoulders. So he did.

  “I saw and heard them coming down, but my feet wouldn’t budge. I never thought I’d be one of those people too petrified to move out of the way of danger.”

  “You never know how you’re going to react in any situation.” Matt jerked his head toward Sloan, still directing traffic. “Did you get a load of how mad Sloan was? He doesn’t want any more trouble.”

  “He doesn’t want any trouble at all.”

  A tremble rolled through her body, and Matt pulled her closer. “What’s wrong?”

  She put her finger to her lips. “Not here. Let’s go back to the bike.”

  They tromped through the underbrush and Kylie seemed to have regained her sea legs. When they reached his motorcycle, she looked both ways and wedged her shoulder against the nearest tree.

  “Don’t you think it’s kind of a coincidence that we come snooping around the concert site and a huge light nearly falls on my head?”

  Matt sucked in the inside of his cheek. He’d been too alarmed at the accident and then too relieved at Kylie’s escape to think much about it.

  “I suppose so. What do you think?”

  “I think Harlan Sloan somehow arranged that accident.”

  “And you know that…”

  “No, I didn’t read his mind or anything, Matt. It’s just a hunch. The man is oily.”

  A twig snapped and Matt jumped.

  “What is it?” Kylie’s face grew even paler.

  He mimicked her gesture from before and put his finger to his lips. He crept back toward the underbrush, his motorcycle boots crushing and cracking the wooded carpet beneath him. He pulled back a branch and peered onto the shaded path leading back toward the concert grounds.

  “Anyone there?” The hairs on the back of his neck quivered. He could sense a presence, or maybe he’d been hanging out with fortune-tellers too long.

  Kylie touched his back and he jumped again. She definitely moved with more stealth than he did.

  “Sorry. What did you see?”

  “I didn’t see anything. Thought I heard someone.”

  “Could be people coming back to their cars.”

  He raised one eyebrow. “What were you just saying about coincidences?”

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  As they took the winding road away from the concert grounds, Matt leaned into the turns just to feel Kylie tighten her grip around his waist. With her body snug against his back, he could ride all day, straddling his bike while she straddled him.

  He slowed down for a bump in the road. He didn’t want to flip her off the bike. She’d had enough accidents since landing in Coral Cove.

  Were her instincts right about those lights? He couldn’t see Sloan clambering among the scaffolding and tipping a set of klieg lights overboard. Was there someone else watching? Someone else who knew their mission…and wanted to make sure it failed?

  When he turned his bike onto the Coast Highway, the cool wind hit his face, slapping some sense into him. The lights had to be an accident. The person who took Bree might not even be in the area anymore. He could’ve been a drifter, someone who targeted these kinds of events looking for naive young women.

  Kylie snuggled in closer and Matt eased off the accelerator. No need to rush. No need to get a ticket or put Kylie’s life in danger.

  When he pulled up to the hotel, Kylie slid off the bike clutching her thin sweater around her. “It gets cold on that thing.”

  “I didn’t notice.”

  “Maybe because you have that big machine between your legs.” She stopped and her face reddened right up to the roots of her black hair.

  Matt crossed his arms and grinned.

  “I—I mean the bike is warmer when your legs are wrapped around.... I’m just going to stop now.”

  “Don’t stop on my account.”

  She punched him in the arm and he flexed his biceps just to show her he had more than a big machine between his legs.

  “I’m still rattled from that…accident at the concert grounds.”

  “Sloan wasn’t crawling among the scaffolding.” He opened the front door of the hotel for Kylie and waved at the front desk clerk. “I think someone would’ve noticed him.”

  She turned to him at the elevator. “What did you find out, anyway? We never got a chance to exchange info.”

  “Not much.” He punched the elevator button. “I was talking to the roadies. A few of them were working the gig three years ago and remembered Bree’s disappearance, but they couldn’t tell me anything, or wouldn’t. They’re a close-knit bunch. What about you?”

  The elevator car settled on the lobby floor with a swoosh.

  “I spoke to a trio of young women, girls really. Two of them were clueless about Bree and the other one’s mother had told her about Bree as a cautionary tale. They didn’t seem too concerned, but I got the feeling one of the primary reasons people come to these concerts is to hook up.”

  Matt slapped the button for the third floor and said, “News flash.”

  “I guess I knew that.” Kylie settled her back against the wall of the elevator, her palms flat against the fake wood. �
��I just didn’t realize how naive young women could be.”

  “Were you?” In high school, Kylie had seemed cool, tough, not caring what anyone thought of her—definitely not naive. His clunky high school boy lines would’ve never worked on her. Not that he’d ever tried…and for the life of him, as she stood in front of him with her wild, dark hair and witchy green eyes, he couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t.

  “Oh, I suppose I was naive, but I had this extrasensory stuff going on, which heightened my awareness more. And my mom always added her own warnings.”

  “Didn’t know about Mr. Brunswick, our resident serial killer, did you? Because apparently, the murders this summer weren’t his first.”

  “You know,” she said as she stepped through the doors first and smacked her hand against one side to hold it open for him, “I know you’re not going to believe me now, but I always knew there was something off about Mr. Brunswick.”

  “Besides being sort of handsy with the girls?”

  “Yeah, besides that because he never tried any of that stuff with me.”

  “You probably scared him.”

  She tilted her head when she reached her door. “Did I scare you back then, too?”

  Was she asking him why he never went out with her? Since he’d gone out with about half of the girls in their class.

  Should he tell her the truth that a slightly pudgy girl with black hair and blacker eyeliner and bangles halfway up her arms hadn’t interested him in the slightest? Kylie and her clique had outsider written all over them. He couldn’t afford the stench of loser. His father the drunk had already tainted him with that odor.

  “Yeah, you scared me.”

  She flicked her card under his nose. “Liar.”

  He blocked her entrance with his arm. “Dinner at seven at Burgers and Brews? I’ve got my camera all ready to hand off to Annie.”

  “You know where to find me. I’m going to lie down.” She massaged her left temple. “My head hurts.”

  “Just think what it would’ve felt like if those lights had landed on you.” He pinched her chin to make up for not wanting her in high school.

  Her lashes dropped and a small sigh from her lips warmed his fingertips. “I never even thanked you for saving my life…again.”