by Judith Mehl
More disconcerting then his driving was the sight of the Cavalier closing in.
“That car was behind us right after we left. I remember seeing it when I was admiring your upholstery.”
“Well, the good news is that we finally know for sure we’re being tailed. The bad news is—we’re being tailed!”
Robin seemed to be holding his own in this mental game but Kat’s fear was quickly reaching flash point. It was only tempered by confusion as to why this was happening to them.
A bump or two later they moved to an even less traveled road that reminded her of the highway rumble strips. As they veered away from the unknown enemy, she calmed her rising panic and advised Robin, “You’ve spent months fixing up this car. Take it easy.”
Before he barely had a chance to follow her advice the gray sedan loomed closer and they were rear-ended. There were no curves to hide around now, just an uneven trail bent on ripping apart the underside of the car while the branches reaching overhead slapped against the roof and the brush alongside the car tackled any paint that was left unmarred. Kat no longer had time to speculate as to why this was happening. Robin could barely control the car as they were swiped again. Meanwhile the trail opened up and the sedan sped forward past them and out of sight.
Robin wasted no time in killing the engine, while opening the door with his left hand. “Come on, what are you waiting for?” He yelled as he took off into the thickest part of the woods.
Kat followed more sedately as she picked her way through the brambles. “Robin, wait up. Don’t you think we should wait in the car? I’ve got my cell phone. We could call for help.”
Robin had slowed and turned back so she could hear but he didn’t stop walking. “Generally a good idea. Staying with the car. But in this case, I don’t want to be in it if he comes back. Besides, you won’t get a signal here.”
“Gotcha.” Kat tried to pick up the pace but the cream heels, her favorite in most circumstances because of their great comfort, weren’t suited to the woods. She’d already picked up three burrs on her now defunct nylons, and one seemed determine to remain imbedded in her skin. Away from the car, her heartbeat began to settle, though Robin’s pace was somewhat frenetic.
Robin slowed again, looking anxiously behind her. He saw nothing. He stopped, waiting patiently. She picked burrs off her legs while continuing forward in a lopsided trot. She realized he wasn’t as calm as he had appeared earlier. Fortunately they were managing to take turns, one shifting into a calm mode as the other panicked.
A loud intermittent rustling off to the side stopped her dead and she stared into the brush in the direction of the sound. Fear stole her voice and she jabbed Robin in the back till he turned once again to look at her. Kat pointed in the direction of the sound, and as Robin peered into the brush, a squirrel leapt out of the leaves, over a fallen sapling, and pounced on an acorn near the path.
Robin raised his eyebrows, grabbed her hand and tugged forward. She followed silently, while her heart slowly dislodged from her stomach and moved back to its rightful place. Eventually, she resorted to a monologue to hide her embarrassment.
“Who would have thought a squirrel could make so much noise? It sounded as loud as a bear. You know when other girls were playing Girl Scout camp games I stayed home to read Thoreau. Now that’s nature at it’s best. No burrs, no bears.”
He turned and looked at her quizzically on that one, showing that he was indeed listening. But her babbling continued. I read a lot of Albert Einstein too. At least he became a handwriting expert. More in my line of interest.
His look served to stop her tirade. She had been letting panic control her mouth. It was time to act the elder here, she decided. Shortly after, they halted in a clearing. Kat figured her clothes were already ruined so didn’t hesitate to nestle her back against a tree and slump to the ground.
“Are we safe?” But before giving him a chance to answer, continued, “How would you know? Where are we?”
“It’s OK, Ms. Everitt. Calm down. We’re safe.”
Grimacing at her bedraggled body and torn clothing, she said, “I think Katharine is formal enough under the circumstances. You seem more in your element here than I am, so you’re in charge anyway. What now?”
“You’re right. This is my home territory so to speak.”
He waved his hands to the west. “We used to live over there when I was a kid. A friend and I spent countless weekends in these woods. We’re safe here. Whoever it was didn’t follow us.”
He added, “I thought you lived in the country?”
“I drive by a lot of woods. I live on one artfully landscaped acre. The squirrels come steal my birdseed and leave. They don’t rustle through the woods like a bear in my yard!”
Looking around at the tall pines and the dying underbrush, he asked, “So did Thoreau’s pitch-pine woods prepare you for this?”
“To be honest. I got hung up on his eating of fried rats. I didn’t quite understand his point then about sensual savoring.”
“It’s funny what sticks with us. Thoreau’s writings were remarkably inspired, such a complete exposition of his entire world, and yet what I remember most is the battle of the ants,” he said.
As she slapped at one of those ants, she asked. “Do you think I could get a phone call out from here?”
“Sure. Try. We can’t be that far from a tower. They’re everywhere around the valley.”
Though the pine trees gave her less than perfect reception, Kat reached Nick, luckily finding him still at the office. She wasn’t quite sure why but she knew she wanted him around when Burrows showed up.
Robin suddenly was anxious to speak to the detective. And Kat knew they had to tell about this bizarre scene. They had to find who’d chased them and why. She was frightened, but maybe this was the break they needed. Robin needed to report the damage to his car. Nick, showing proper concern, said he’d call Burrows, got directions from Robin, and said he was on his way.
They spent an uneventful half-hour in the darkening woods. They tried to determine who their pursuer was chasing, her or Robin, but couldn’t draw any conclusions. They mostly discussed food, prompted by Robin’s grumbling stomach.
“How can you be hungry at a time like this?”
“I missed my pizza fix last night. And the lunch offerings today were the typical rubbery macaroni and cold sausage.”
“Why would they serve cold sausage?”
“They think it’s warm.”
His stomach rumbled again. “But a ham and cheese bagel would go down good right now.”
Eventually they moved closer to the road and met Nick and Burrows who arrived simultaneously.
Nick had no qualms about grabbing Kat by the shoulders and after giving her appearance close scrutiny, giving her a hug. It somewhat took the sting from his words, which berated her for taking off alone and getting in trouble again.
Burrows interrupted and determined that they were unharmed. It was the only time she could remember delight at being harshly questioned by him. She optimistically decided they were both abrupt because they were worried.
The men checked out Robin’s car. There wasn’t much to see but there was sufficient damage to have it inspected back in town. Richard led the procession, followed slowly by Robin. Nick and Kat brought up the rear in his Healy. They all met in the detective’s office. Robin told his story, relieved that Detective Burrows believed him and didn’t hold him accountable.
The detective had Robin repeat over and over what he’d heard. He was upset that Robin hadn’t come forward earlier. This eliminated a few suspects that he’d wasted time on. Charlie’s “What are you doing here?” allowed him to drop the idea of it being an outsider breaking in for chemicals and coming across Charlie inadvertently. Robin said Charlie didn’t sound startled or upset at that point. Just surprised. It almost definitely meant it was someone Charlie knew, and sounded like a man, though Robin admitted he couldn’t hear clearly.
“I
thought it was something personal between the two. Didn’t know it was murder in the making.”
Kat wasn’t much help in the description of the sedan. Robin however, was able to describe it clearly. Unfortunately he couldn’t recall any special characteristics or the license plate number. There were a lot of gray 1995 Chevy Cavaliers out there.
Again they discussed at length whether the man was trying to scare off Robin or Kat. They were both pretty sure the purpose had only been that—to scare them or one of them off. But was it Robin, because the man knew he’d been at the scene of the crime? Or was it Kat because of the notes on the science invitation (maybe taken as a threat)? Or something she’d seen that night while in the building?
Kat sheepishly mentioned her plea that afternoon to all and sundry at the door of the science building. Nick and Richard took turns taking pieces out of her on that one.
Nick wanted to drive Robin home but were convinced to leave Robin behind for a while. It looked like Robin was in for more intense questioning. Nick expressed appropriate sympathy for the damage to the car and the temporary loss of its use. He promised to help Robin repair it as soon as Richard returned it.
Nick and Kat plunged into palpable silence as he drove her back to the office for her car. He weighed the urge to chew her out with that of holding her tight. Kat watched the warring emotions flicker across his face. She wasn’t sure what the battle was, nor who won, so in a brave front, stepped jauntily out of the car, quickly waved, and said good night.
Nick couldn’t believe she’d bothered trying to get rid of him so easily. Did she think he was deranged? He was furious, scared, frustrated, and hurt. He hadn’t started a discussion in the car in order to avoid an accident, and because he was waiting for one emotion to settle on top. Tackling her with all the conflicting emotions at once was not only impractical but was asking for trouble from someone as volatile as Kat.
He was out of the car and at her side before she’d proceeded more than a few steps. He pulled her into a tight embrace and smothered her with kisses. Words to express what he felt wouldn’t come easily but the desire to hold her close came naturally. Didn’t she know how worried he was, how upset that someone may be stalking her and she didn’t even bother to ask for his help when venturing out on some new lead?
Confused by his reaction, she was willing to accept his lovemaking at face value until he could voice his concerns. She’d endlessly speculated about their relationship but hadn’t been able to express her worries. She didn’t think this moment, in the parking lot, was a good time to bring them up. She feared he wasn’t ready to settle down. She felt his fever came from more than malaria. Did he still have demons following him from his past work—work he wouldn’t talk about? Would their intimacy disintegrate with the solving of Professor Abbott’s murder? Would they part then, or should she fight to gain a permanent relationship?
Right now she settled for his ardent kisses. The shock of the afternoon’s episode was beginning to settle in. They finally parted, with Nick threatening a long talk after he calmed down. He followed her in his car all the way home, but declined the chance to come in until he was more certain what he wanted to say.
Chapter 18
Exaggerated and disguised handwriting means a con artist. Intelligent, productive people don’t need puff.
“Handwriting Analysis: Putting it to Work for You” by Andrea McNichol
Nick raced on the treadmill as if pursuing demons. Some he knew; some he didn’t. He hadn’t exercised properly since he left the hospital. If he was no longer out in the field then he needed a place for release and to work out, and he was glad his old friend, G. L. recommended this club. The valley was rife with social clubs—German, Lithuanian, Polish, and in contrast, modern weight rooms and health clubs, but short on old-fashioned gyms. This club happily lacked the dainty pristine appearance of some, the ones that catered to asexual refinement of the body. Here the modern treadmills and exercise machines blended with the ancient release of a punching bag and old men’s gossip.
He slowed, and paced himself, encompassed by the comforting whir and rhythmic clatter of machines in sync, reminiscent of assembly line clamor, only this room mass-produced sweat, stronger abs and quads. He bemoaned the loss of the chin-up bar and moved sheepishly to the dip/chin machine to work his lats. He glanced around looking for G. L. They’d agreed to meet here, in the anonymity of the old-world club, away from campus and Kat in particular. He exhaled on each exertion, regulating his breathing for maximum benefit while he reminisced about the old days when he and G. L. were close. He’d called him for this job because after all the years of working with numerous skilled and stealthy men he could think of no one he would trust as much as G. L. And true to form, his old friend dropped everything and came running when Nick sent his S.O.S.
He moved back to the treadmill, adjusting pace to temperament while his mind tossed around possible ways to protect Kat and find the killer. Old men, dissecting the latest boxing bout between dreaming old dreams, distracted his attention for a while. His nose was filled with the hot musky odor of muscle-pushing warmth when he stepped off the treadmill and right into a back-slapping hug from the shorter and stockier G. L.
They bantered about the old days in the steel town, before they each left to make their mark. The area’s heyday, when construction of the railroads converged with the growth of iron production and steel, was already fading when they left, when more and more of the twisted girders of the booming era fell into silence. Before it died, the iron industry truly forged a melting pot where unlikely friendships outlasted the steel production. Such was the strongly-welded relation of G. L. and Nick.
“What brings you back, Nick?” G. L. finally asked as Nick mopped his face with a towel. They headed for the locker room.
“Well, there’s this temporary job I took on for an old friend, a murder, and this girl.”
“Ah, let’s hear about the girl first!”
“She works with me, and I think she’s involved in the murder.”
“Oh, wrong kind of girl. I thought for a minute we finally had something here,” G. L. grimaced as he settled on the bench and waited for Nick to shower. They had the place to themselves for the moment and could talk freely.
Nick shouted above the harsh spray. “No, right kind of girl, wrong end of the murder. I think she’s being stalked.”
“Back in town just a few weeks and you’ve stepped into a murder scene and have yourself a woman. Sounds like the ol’ Nick already.”
“Don’t be so sure. I’m not certain of anything right now—just that I’m worried.”
“Hmmm, this is sounding better. Worried about a woman. That’s not the ol’ Nick talking.”
Nick straddled the bench near G. L. “I know this isn’t your stock-in-trade anymore, but could you possibly fit in tailing her for a while? I would sure feel better if I knew she was protected. I can’t get a handle on this murder and every time I start investigating I start worrying about her. I’ve tried to keep close, but I can’t do that and keep her out of it at the same time.”
“It’s important to keep her out of it?”
Nick contemplated the question as he dressed. G. L. didn’t deserve a cheap answer and neither did Kat. He couldn’t put most of what he felt about her into words but he did feel strongly enough to answer with conviction. “Yeah, it is now. I want her safe. Just yesterday, the killer, or some crazed driver, chased and crumpled the car she was in. Earlier a woman looking like her was cracked in the head.”
“What kind of a car description do you have?”
“Nothing useful. Kat and the kid that was driving couldn’t even tell if it was a man or woman. The person had a hooded jacket on. The car was a 1995 gray Chevy Cavalier. The cops are on the lookout for it, but with no license plate number they can’t stop anyone unless the car is involved in something suspicious-looking.”
“So what do you want me to do?”
“I know that as the head of you
r own security company you don’t do anything this low-key anymore but could you follow her, looking out for anyone else following her? Make sure she gets home safely. Look for tampering around the house, her car. Things like that.”
The burly man frowned momentarily, then smiled. “It’s a deal. Only if you’ll consider coming in as my partner when this is wrapped up. I could use someone with your expertise. It would put us on the map.”
Nick leapt up from tying his shoes and grasped G. L.’s hand to clinch the deal before the man changed his mind. “I thought you’d never ask!”
“I really would appreciate you thinking about it Nick. I know this isn’t what you’re used to. Admittedly there aren’t too many high-powered politicians in this area.”
“Yeah,” Nick agreed with a beaming grin. “I know. It must be great. If I never see another politician I’ll die happy.”
“Sounds like you worked for the Pentagon too long. Give me the particulars on your Kat and I’ll take care of her while you handle the rest. You know my crew will help with your investigation any way they can.”
Nick made it very clear that for now he only wanted G. L. Too many people involved and Kat would catch on for sure. G. L. covered his smile with a cough. It didn’t take detective training to learn you never tried to con a woman, but he wouldn’t be the one to try and dissuade Nick.
The men exchanged the necessary information, shook hands, and departed. Nick vowed to himself to escalate the investigation if he had to light a fire under Burrows to do it.
Kat’s heart fluttered when she spied Nick’s car in the parking lot tucked amidst all the SUV’s. And a smile raced across her face when she saw he was inside. Maybe he was free to spend the afternoon with her. Before she could embarrass herself, she realized there was a passenger. Who could it be? And why were they conversing in his car, stuffed there like sardines in a can? From her secluded spot behind a van she saw an animated discussion in progress between two large men in an itty-bitty sports car.