“He thinks it’s from a deer or something.”
“Is he going to test it?”
“I insisted he test to see if it’s human. He said he would, but I think he just said that to humor this crazy lady.” Tory patted her chest. “I called Sergeant Bennett when I didn’t hear anything this morning. He told me Mr. Nelson lives with his son and daughter-in-law, and they said that the man went to see his brother until after the holidays. Every year the two brothers go hunting north during this time. The couple’s place is up the road from where the hit-and-run occurred. The police sergeant wasn’t happy I still insisted there was a hit-and-run. On the phone I could hear him muttering a few unkind words under his breath.”
A dark glint flared in Jordan’s deep brown eyes. “Some people don’t like to have their authority challenged.”
“I’m not letting this go. A person ran down that man and killed him. The driver was reckless—he didn’t even get out of his car to see if Mr. Nelson was alive. I’m going to stop at the Nelsons’ house and do my own questioning. I know what I saw. I dreamed about it last night.” She shuddered at the memory of the nightmare that had awakened her early this morning.
“You shouldn’t go alone. What if something else is going on?”
“What are you doing tomorrow afternoon? Care to take a trip up the mountain?” The invitation came out without her thinking it through. Her neighbor usually kept to himself. Sure, they’d had a few casual conversations in the yard, often about his rental property, the house she lived in.
“If you insist on going, I’ll go with you.”
Elated she would have a witness when she confronted the Nelsons, she smiled, pushing down the urge to hug him for his assistance. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” One corner of his mouth tilted up. “I came over here to help you with your lights. I wouldn’t want you falling off the ladder on my rental property.”
Tory’s grin widened. The day was looking up after a rocky start. “I accept your offer. I may be crazy, but I’m not stupid.”
* * *
Sunday afternoon, Jordan set his empty coffee mug on the coaster on the end table then stretched on the couch. He’d been sitting most of the morning. Dutch, his German shepherd, came up and dropped a red ball in his lap.
“Sorry, boy, I promised my tenant I’d go with her today. She fancies herself a private detective or something.”
Thinking about Tory Caldwell brought a smile to his lips. She was a plain Jane, but there was a spirit about her that intrigued him—or would, if he were interested in a woman. He wasn’t. He had his hands full trying to keep his life together. With Dutch, his service dog, he’d made strides toward healing from the post-traumatic stress disorder that came home with him from Afghanistan two years ago. Most of his squad hadn’t come back to the States. He was the lucky one—or so people kept telling him. He didn’t feel that way. His battle buddies had died when a bomb landed on the building they were in. Their screams still rang in his mind when it quieted enough to let the sounds in.
When he heard a sharp knock on his front door, he shook off those memories. He tried not to dwell on what had happened in the war zone, but sometimes the flashbacks would come out of nowhere. He rubbed Dutch on the top his head, feeling the calming connection with his dog, then rose to let his tenant into his house.
Tory’s smile and sparkling green eyes greeted him when he pulled the door open. The sight lifted his spirits just as their occasional talks over the past few months had. He stepped to the side to allow her inside. Her gaze stopped at his dog.
“This is Dutch. You’ve probably seen him around. He looks ferocious, but he’s a cuddly teddy bear.”
“Thank goodness you put Teddy in front of bear, because I’ve encountered a few hiking, and have kept my distance.” Tory held her hand out for his dog to sniff, then scratched him behind his ear and gained a new best friend.
“He likes you.”
“Good thing, because I wouldn’t want a German shepherd mad at me. Ready? I’m supposed to pick Morgan up in an hour, but I’d like to stop and talk with the Nelsons beforehand. I haven’t said anything to my son about seeing that hit-and-run. It didn’t seem like something to talk about over the phone.”
“True. Maybe we can get to the bottom of it today.”
Tory turned to leave, zipping up her blue parka, her long blond hair peeking out from under her white beanie. “A cold front is moving in.”
“The weather report calls for snow in the middle of the week.”
“That’ll just make my dazzling display of fifty lights a must-see on all the Christmas light tours.”
“I looked at it last night, and I thought it was nice.”
She laughed. “Your outside decorations are nice. Mine are adequate and will keep Mr. Foster from bugging me for not participating in the neighborhood light challenge. I was the last holdout. When you caved in, I thought I should too.”
“I’m with you. It’s easier to comply than deal with Mr. Foster’s little notes in your mailbox.”
“It’s sad he thinks these decorations are what Christmas is really about.”
“I’m not sure what he believes. All I know is that he wants this to be the best neighborhood in Crystal Creek.”
She groaned. “Then I didn’t do enough. Why didn’t you warn me before I moved in to this neighborhood?”
He tried an apologetic grin. “Sorry.”
Jordan locked up and followed Tory to her Jeep in the open garage. Usually he took Dutch with him everywhere, but she was driving and had just met his service dog, and she didn’t even know it was a service dog. That was a conversation he didn’t start with people. He filed it under none of their business.
As he slipped into the front passenger’s seat, he said, “Send Mr. Foster to me if he says anything about your display. I’ll sic Dutch on him.”
“I thought your dog was a cuddly Teddy bear.”
“Usually, but he’s also protective and well-trained.”
“Good to know. Morgan has been bugging me about getting a dog.” She backed out of her driveway and headed toward the highway. “We had one where we lived previously, but he died right before we moved.”
“What kind?”
“A Yorkie, always in everyone’s business. What made you get a German shepherd?”
Jordan deepened his voice. “He’s a manly dog for a manly man. None of them little yippy critters for me.” He winked at her, so she’d know he was joking. Admitting he had PTSD had been tough enough, and even to looking into getting a service dog had made him feel weak that he couldn’t get over it on his own. The first eight months back in the States, he’d tried to deny he had a problem. But when he’d stopped wanting to interact with people and ran his rental and investment business from home, only going out when absolutely necessary, the pastor from the church he grew up in came to visit him in Denver.
“Probably a good watch dog, too,” Tory said.
“That’s an added bonus.” No need to mention that his pastor wouldn’t give up on him until he sought help.
She slanted a look at him. “I imagine you know how to take care of yourself.”
“If you’re referring to my military training, then yes, I usually can.” Usually being the key word. Nothing he could do for his comrades when those explosives bombarded them. The shrapnel scars on his left thigh and his terrible memories were all he had left from that day. More than most of the guys, who hadn’t escaped at all.
He stared out the side window. He thanked God every day that his pastor had cared enough to keep coming back until he’d persuaded him to get help. Last December, he’d moved with Dutch to Crystal Creek for a fresh start.
When Tory started up the mountain, she glanced at him again. “Thank you for coming. I feel safe with you here.”
Jordan tried to ignore the warmth those words made him feel.
“I’m not sure what to expect with the Nelsons,” she continued. “I don’t understand why th
ey told the police Mr. Nelson was out-of-town. There must be an explanation or a misunderstanding.”
“Or, for some reason, they’re lying.”
“Why would they lie? Unless the person in the sports car was related to them. The young man I saw was probably no more than twenty.”
“I’m good with computers. I can look into the Nelson family if you don’t get answers today.”
“So you don’t think I’m crazy?”
“Why would you lie about something like that? Before I rented that house to you, I checked your references.” And more, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. He had a lot of rental properties in Crystal Creek and the surrounding towns, and he did background checks all the time, but since she would be living next door, he went even further.
“What made you come over yesterday afternoon?”
“With all that pounding, I wanted to make sure you weren’t tearing down my house.”
She grinned. “You don’t have that to fear from me. I don’t have a lot of strength in my arms. Maybe I should take up weight lifting.”
“Exercising is a great stress reliever.” He should know. Hadn’t he spent hours working out in the last couple of years? Just one more technique to keep him sane.
“And I intend to work it into my schedule—one day.”
He glanced at her and smiled. “In the distant future.”
“Yep, you’ve got me pegged.” As they climbed the mountain, Jordan noticed Tory stiffening, her grasp on the steering wheel so tight her knuckles were white.
This whole situation was strange. And intriguing. “I’d like to stop and look at the crime scene.”
“Checking my story out?”
“No, but I’ve learned to get the lay of the land before going into battle.”
“I suppose I do feel like that.” She chuckled. “When I talked with the sergeant yesterday, he said the test results proved the blood on the pavement was from an animal. I’m going to try and get a sample of it. I know it wasn’t an animal, and I intend to have my own lab test run on it.”
“Oh, yeah? Do you know someone who can do that?”
“Not yet, but I’m sure I can find a lab somehow.”
“I know a police detective in Denver who might be able to get it checked for you.”
She slowed the Jeep and parked on the shoulder of the two-lane road. As she climbed from the vehicle, she said, “Be careful stepping out. The drop off isn’t too far away.”
It had been a long time since anyone worried for his well-being. The gesture touched him and softened his war-weary heart. He climbed from the car, peeked past the guardrail, and whistled. “You weren’t kidding. That’d be quite a fall.”
As he rounded the rear of her Jeep, she kept her head lowered and swept her gaze over the pavement. Her brow wrinkled, and her mouth pinched together.
“It’s gone. I know this is the right place. Mr. Nelson landed two feet from this rock formation.” Pointing at the place, she looked toward him, her green eyes stormy. “Someone must have cleaned the blood up. Why?”
Had Tory really witnessed a hit-and-run? Or was she making it up? Or just crazy? But no—all the references he’d checked had given her glowing reports. Full of integrity. Caring. And nothing from their casual conversations had contradicted that. He stepped nearer to her, wanting to erase the concern from her face. “Let’s check for blood splatter on those rocks near the shoulder. If someone did clean up the road, he might not have thought about that.”
While she went to the pile of stones, he knelt and examined the asphalt. In the service, he’d learned to track using all his senses. A slight odor of bleach teased his keen sense of smell.
“Nothing,” Tory said with a sigh.
He rose and inspected the rock formation. Slightly to the right, a small evergreen bush grew. He scrutinized the foliage and found a couple of red drops. “This could be something.” He took out his Swiss Army knife and cut off the branch. “Do you have a sack to put this in?”
“I have a bag from Christmas shopping yesterday.”
Jordan accompanied Tory to the rear of her SUV. He carefully inserted the stem with a couple of leaves into the sack. “If a test confirms this is human blood, then it might help you to convince the police something is going on.”
“Or they’ll dismiss it because there’s no way to tell when it got on the shrub.”
“It rained last week, so that’ll narrow the timeframe some. Over time, it would have dried and flaked off. This is pretty fresh. And if it’s human, his DNA might be found on it. They’ll have a hard time denying that.”
“Right.” Tory slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “The address on Mr. Nelson’s driver’s license isn’t far from here.”
“Since you have the license plate of the sports car, why don’t I check with my friend in Denver to see who owns the sports car?”
“You’d do that?”
“Sure. I’ll call Gage this evening. No reason not to check the whereabouts of that car and the driver. I’m particularly interested in where they were Friday afternoon.”
“Sergeant Bennett told me the owner had an airtight alibi. And get this—the sports car was reported stolen.”
“When?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t share much with me.”
“And he didn’t tell you who owned it and what the alibi was?”
She shook her head and turned left down a gravel road leading to a large, once white house about five hundred yards from the highway. As she stopped in front of the rundown abode, a huge man with a full dark beard came out onto the slanting porch, pointed his rifle and glared.
Deadly Countdown Page 14