Intuition

by Carol Ericson

  “Like that?”

  Her hands fluttered about her face before she dropped them in her lap. “I’m worried. What if there’s a copycat?”

  “Why should there be? This is no serial killer like our math teacher.”

  “I feel it…something.” She’d clenched her hand against her stomach. “Here.”

  He ruffled her hair. “You’re on edge, too. Maybe you should relax.”

  “Do not suggest another massage. I don’t want to lie naked on a table at someone’s mercy.”

  He wiped his brow with the back of his hand. He needed a cold shower after that image slammed into his brain. “I was going to suggest you go up to your room, lock the doors and lie down with the drapes closed.”

  “And what will you be doing?”

  He’d like to be lying next to her.

  “I have an errand. In fact, can I borrow your car to pick up a package at the post office? From the description the hotel clerk gave me, it’s too big for my bike.”

  She rubbed a circle on her left temple with two fingertips. “I’ll drive you.”

  “You don’t even trust me with your rental car?”

  “You still have a lot of explaining to do.” She stood up, facing him, and poked him in the chest.

  His heart flipped. That meant she’d decided to allow his explanations. “It’s a long story. I think I’ll have to do it over lunch.”

  “I just had breakfast.”

  “I can wait.” He traced a dark circle beneath her eye. “You still need to lie down and get some rest.”

  “I don’t feel tired.”

  He knew better than to tell her she looked tired. “That’s because you’re wired. We’re going to a concert tonight and we need to be alert.”

  “Okay. Let’s get your package and go to bed.” She sucked in a breath. “I mean, I’ll go to bed. You can do whatever you want.”

  “They don’t call them Freudian slips for nothing.” He wrapped a lock of her hair around his finger. “You still need to get these crispy ends trimmed.”

  “That’s the last thing on my mind.”

  “What is on your mind, Kylie?” Tugging on her hair, he drew her closer. “Did you get some kind of vibe from that roadie?”

  “It’s the whole morning. I’m out of sorts.” She covered her ears. “I wish someone would turn off that car alarm.”

  “Mail, then rest.” He steered her outside by lightly clasping her shoulders from behind. “Where’d you park?”

  “Around the back. The hotel is getting crowded.”

  “More people in for the concert.”

  He followed her down the walkway on the side of the hotel, his thigh brushing against the fragrant jasmine that grew in a jumble in the planters.

  The car alarm grew louder.

  Turning to him, she wrinkled her nose. “Do you have your wallet and the notice to claim the package?”

  He patted the back pocket of his jeans. “Right here. Why?”

  “You look like you just rolled out of bed.”

  He combed his fingers through his short hair. “Yeah, because you weren’t in your room. Woke me up real fast.”

  They waited for a car to pass before crossing the parking lot where her car faced a low brick wall. As they approached the rental, Kylie’s steps quickened and Matt took longer strides to keep up.

  “What’s your hurry all of a sudden?”

  “Don’t you see it?” She skipped into a jog. “That’s my alarm.”

  By the time they reached the car, he saw the sprinkles of glass on the asphalt. Then he saw the gaping hole in her window.

  “Looks like someone smashed your window.” All his muscles tightened. A broken window would be annoying, but given the threats to Kylie the past few days the jagged hole in the window gave off a more ominous air.

  “Damn it.” The quaver in her voice meant she felt it, too.

  “You have your purse.” He tugged at the strap over her shoulder. “It’s just a broken window.”

  “Matt.” She gripped his arm in an iron vise. “I—I left something in the front seat.”

  He yanked open the back door to unlock the front, and the rest of the glass cascaded to the ground. He flicked the lock and opened the front passenger door. The seat was empty. “It’s gone. What was it?”

  She turned to him, a look of dark dread in her eyes. “Bree’s scarf. Someone stole Bree’s scarf.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The sledgehammer in her head fell harder and she swayed against the car.

  Matt tucked his arm around her waist and pulled her away from the glass.

  “It’s okay, Kylie. It’s just a scarf.” He whispered in her ear but it sounded like shouting.

  The scarf. The scarf.

  Pushing against his chest, she said, “I can’t go on without the scarf. It was my link to Bree. Somebody knew that.”

  “What about Toby and Kenny? They were in your car. They probably took the scarf.” He took the keys from her hand to start the engine and disengage the alarm.

  “They took the scarf when I dropped them off at the concert grounds, and then came back here and broke the window of my car? That makes no sense at all.”

  He returned to her side. “Why would someone want Bree’s scarf? To frighten you off? If an exploding house didn’t do that, a missing scarf wouldn’t.”

  Maybe Matt wanted to soothe her, to make light of the situation, but he had to realize the significance of this theft.

  “Don’t you get it?” She bunched his T-shirt in her hands. “Bree’s killer took the scarf to throw me off.”

  Matt started shuffling pieces of glass into the dirt with the toe of his flip-flop. “You told me a personal item helped. You didn’t say you needed it.”

  “I don’t. I didn’t.” She flung open the car door and ran her hands across the seat as if the scarf had become invisible. She’d never had to rely on something that belonged to the victim for past cases. It did help, but she could do her job without it. But this case?

  Working with Matt had scrambled her frequency. She couldn’t concentrate. She couldn’t focus on Bree. How was she going to get justice for that young woman?

  Twisting her head over her shoulder, she took in Matt’s expectant face. She didn’t want to admit how much his presence had thrown her off her game. And making love with him last night?

  Total mistake.

  “It helps—a lot. I wanted the scarf for tonight, the first night of the festival.”

  “Maybe we can get you something else?”

  “And admit to Mrs. Harris that I lost her daughter’s scarf?” She turned and plopped on the seat of the car, wringing her hands in her lap.

  “You didn’t lose it. Someone stole it from you, the same someone who’s been threatening you since you got here.”

  “Why am I the target? You’re working on the case, too.”

  His lips twisted into a smile. “Maybe the killer knows I’m a failed cop and doesn’t have much faith that I’m going to solve this thing. Hell, everyone else in town seems to know my business.”

  “And those jaunts to the post office for personal reasons? Do they have anything to do with your failure as a cop?”

  “Yeah, they do. Confidential correspondence from my attorney. That’s why the mail carrier couldn’t leave it at the hotel.” He snapped his fingers. “I still have a package to collect. Are you up for driving? I can drive myself.”

  “You’re not on my rental agreement. I’d better drive.”

  He pointed to the broken window. “Are you going to report this to the police?”

  “Might as well, but I doubt they’re going to be concerned about a missing scarf.”

  “Maybe not, but they might be able to get some prints from the door.”

  Kylie agreed and they waited a half hour for the cops to come and lift prints from the door handle. They promised to rule out Kylie’s and Matt’s prints but Kylie wasn’t going to hold her breath for the results.

/>   When the cops left, Kylie drove to the post office and pulled the car to the curb across the street from the post office. “I’ll wait here.”

  “Come in with me…humor me.”

  Sighing, Kylie pushed open her door. If she ever hoped to communicate with Bree, she had to get some alone time…away from Matt.

  He took her hand and squeezed it as they crossed the street. This simple touch reminded her of everything they’d shared last night. No man had ever made her feel the way Matt had. Maybe it was all the practice he’d had, but even the thought of other women couldn’t dampen the pleasure she’d felt from his experienced hands, mouth, tongue…

  She ground her teeth together. How was she ever supposed to think about dead people when this man’s vibrancy made her feel so alive?

  He didn’t release her hand until they both made it to the counter. Matt dug a slip of paper from his back pocket, along with his wallet. “I’m picking up a package.”

  He slid the notice toward the post office clerk. She glanced at it and asked for his ID. Then she turned and disappeared into the bowels of the back office.

  While they waited, Matt tapped Kylie’s nose. “You’re still going to let me explain, aren’t you? I’m sorry I kept the information from you. I just didn’t want to put anything more on your plate.”

  Great. He was about to explain away the one barrier that might keep her from rushing headlong so far down a course, she’d never make her way back to the shore of sanity and reason. Or did she have that wrong? Did Matt represent that shore? A safe haven from the turmoil and despair that had driven her mother to take her own life?

  She’d have to consider that, but for now she still had a case to solve. Closure to bring. Justice to serve.

  A broken window to report to her car rental agency.

  The clerk plunked a big, square box on top of the counter. “Here you go, Mr. Conner. Sign here.”

  “What’s this?” Matt swept a thick, padded manila envelope from the top of the box.

  “Apparently, that went to the hotel also, so they just sent it over with the box.” She tore off the top of the triplicate form after Matt signed it.

  “Thanks.” Matt hoisted the box in his arms, which looked like it weighed two tons. As the envelope on top began to slip, he secured it with his chin. “Can you take that?”

  Kylie snatched it and studied the front label, typed out to Matt in care of the hotel. His attorney hadn’t bothered with a return address on this one. “More stuff from your attorney?”

  “Probably. We just might win my case based on the amount of paperwork alone.”

  “So, you have a case?”

  “I’m suing the department.” He dumped the box into the trunk of her car. “I was set up to take the fall for a theft, Kylie.”

  * * *

  THREE HOURS LATER, after Kylie reported her broken window to a bored car rental agent and Matt had dug through the box of papers from his attorney, they faced each other over sandwiches and a pitcher of iced tea. The waiter had just left the pitcher after they’d made it through three glasses each.

  Matt dabbed his forehead with a napkin. “This has to be some record-breaking temperatures for the coast.”

  “It’s hot.” Kylie pressed her sweating glass against her cheek. “Did you find what you needed in that box…or the envelope?”

  “I’m looking through some old drug cases.”

  “Were you a narcotics officer?”

  “Yep, but I was looking into some irregularities in the department—facts and figures that weren’t adding up.”

  “Someone got wind of you nosing around and turned the tables on you?”

  “You’re a quick study…and you didn’t even need to use ESP to figure that out.” He poured more tea into his glass and topped hers off, too.

  “How’d they do it? How’d they set you up?”

  Matt took a bite of his sandwich and chewed, staring past Kylie and out the window. This is where it got sticky. “They used a woman, a local reporter.”

  Kylie narrowed her eyes. “She was in on the setup?”

  “Uh-huh.” He dropped his sandwich onto his plate where it toppled over. “I started noticing discrepancies between reported drug busts and evidence storage. When I looked into it, it seemed as if certain records had been altered to match the money and drugs in storage.”

  “You’re stalling, Conner. Where did the woman come into the picture?”

  “She came to me. Spotted me in a cop hangout one night.”

  “A bar?”

  “Where I was nursing my single beer.” He took a sip of iced tea since the temperature had just increased another ten degrees. “I knew her from a few other drug busts that she’d covered. She told me she’d received an anonymous tip about the theft of drugs and money from the department. It dovetailed with what I’d been investigating.”

  “Why didn’t you tell a superior?”

  “I did, Kylie.”

  She blinked. “Your superior was in on the fix, too?”

  “That’s right.” His hand crumpled the napkin in his lap. “Anyway, Mara, the reporter, gave me a tip on a big drug deal going down at a club. Our team organized a raid, and the next thing I knew, I was being accused of stealing money and drugs from the raid. The bust went badly, too—as if they were expecting us. A woman died in the crossfire and I got blamed for that, too.”

  “They set you up to shut you up and they used the reporter to nail you, so to speak.”

  He shoved his plate away, his appetite evaporating like a drop of water on the sizzling sidewalk. “She played her part flawlessly. Someone had been warning her to back off. She needed my help.”

  Kylie snorted and then dabbed her nose. “I’m sorry, but somebody in that department had your number and pushed all the right buttons.”

  “I was a real sap, a total pushover.”

  She ran her thumb along the knuckles of his fist clenched beside his plate. “You’re one of the good guys, Matt. Apparently, you always have been. They played on that.”

  “My penchant for playing a superhero landed me on the street.”

  “If it hadn’t been a woman in peril, it would’ve been something else. You were threatening them and they had to get you out.”

  She shrugged her shoulders in a careless gesture that told him she’d momentarily forgotten her worries from this morning. Instead of adding to her problems, his sorry tale had allowed her to shove her own into the background.

  But she knew him better now. How would she have reacted if he’d told her from the beginning of their acquaintance?

  He held out his hand. “Am I forgiven for keeping that from you?”

  “Nothing to forgive.” She clasped his hand. “I’m just wondering if part of your M.O. for making a woman feel safe and protected includes bedding her.”

  Ouch.

  He disentangled his fingers from her surprisingly strong grip. “I didn’t… That’s not why…”

  “Save it.” She drew her finger across her lips. “I just want to find out what happened to Bree.”

  “In a weird coincidence, Harlan Sloan is part owner of the club we raided on that fateful day.”

  “Really? That is weird.” She drummed her fingers on the table, the furrow returning between her eyebrows. “Now that we’re being completely honest, how’d you get this job, anyway?”

  “I’d just put out my shingle and Mr. Harris called me. I always figured my partner sent him my way because he knew I grew up here. How about you?”

  “I live in Portland like the Harrises. The local paper ran a story on me, Mrs. Harris read it, saw that I was from Coral Cove and contacted me.”

  “You must be a big deal if newspapers are writing stories about you.”

  She rested her chin on her folded hands. “I’ve had my successes, but I’m afraid Mrs. Harris put her faith in the wrong medium.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Kylie. You’ve had a lot of distractions. How can you concentrate on f
inding Bree when someone’s trying to kill you?”

  Her long lashes dropped over her eyes. “I have to get back on track somehow.”

  “The show starts tonight. Being there, in the same environment as Bree when she disappeared, has got to help.” He yawned and covered his mouth with his fist. “What’s our game plan for tonight?”

  “Looks like you’re the one who needs rest now.”

  “Well, we both had a late night, not that I minded in the least.”

  She pursed her luscious lips. “I think we need to stick to business.”

  The pleasant burning in his belly that had started when he thought about rolling around in the sheets with her dissipated, and he cleared his throat. “Of course.”

  “I think you should get some sleep. I’m going to relax by the pool, order some room service for dinner and we can hit the opening act of the show together. How does that sound?”

  “That sounds good.” He waved at the waiter to get the check. “Can I join you for dinner in the room?”

  “Sure.”

  As Matt paid the bill, he slid a sideways glance at Kylie, looking like a cat who’d just discovered the rat’s hideout. After she’d announced her plan, he immediately had a hankering to relax poolside, but maybe he should continue to go through the cases Andy had sent him and let her have some alone time.

  The pool, with its myriad families and kids splashing around, would be safe enough. He yawned again. And, man, he could use the sleep.

  * * *

  HOLDING HER BREATH, Kylie eased open the door between her room and Matt’s. His large, shirtless frame was sprawled on the bed, piles of papers stacked around him and in neat rows on the floor. His chest rose and fell with each deep, slumbering breath.

  She could drive out to the concert grounds before him and try a little meditation without his all-encompassing presence. She sucked in her bottom lip. She’d be safe among all those concertgoers. She’d leave Matt a note and they could meet up later.

  The cell phone in her pocket buzzed and she stepped back from the adjoining door and slid it from her jeans.

  I have something of Bree’s TR.

  Her pulse ticked up a few notches.

  TR—Toby Reynolds. She’d seen him out at the pool and told him about the broken window and the missing scarf. He’d mentioned he might have something that belonged to Bree, something Mindy had shown him.