She didn’t understand sound spectrographs or how they differentiated samples, but then, she didn’t understand Gabby’s obsessiveness over formulae either. Some mysteries were better left to experts.
Sooner or later, either cops or the killer would show up at her door.
Their town was too small to have experienced competent officers, which meant she had a little time and could do her own snooping. When she found something worthwhile, they could have the evidence.
A knock on her apartment door triggered the evolutionary response of shoving back in her chair and raising her hands to the unknown threat. The small gasp wouldn’t travel into the apartment’s hallway, but fear clutched her heart and filled her throat with bile.
Keiki swallowed hard. She lived in a small complex with nine other tenants. Maybe someone needed a cup of sugar.
Gabby wouldn’t knock, but Shelly’s parents would. Her conscience dictated she call the Harock’s as soon as the news broke.
If the killer stood on the door’s other side, he wouldn’t knock either. Regardless, she needed to offload the overwhelming fear suffocating her mind and paralyzing her ability to act.
Dressed in yesterday’s T-shirt and jeans, she gave a conspicuous sniff and deemed her level of cleanliness acceptable.
A few wary steps forward and a stumble over thin air allowed her to grasp the door handle. She froze, couldn’t make herself move.
Through the peephole, she saw a tall man with hair darker than sin, and a solid build. The laser-type stare, direct and confident, marked the alpha presence as nemesis. His silver-blue gaze could penetrate anything in its path. If adult wolves had blue eyes, he’d fit the bill.
His face could have been rendered by a Renaissance painter with defined cheekbones, straight nose, and a jaw that conveyed strength and masculinity. Confidence and a radiated irritation rounded out the package.
Another man stood close by, equal in height if not stature, and less threatening. He was near as broad but less intimidating, standing to the side and back. Her first impression fabricated the likeness of a large bear, the cuddly kind that could turn protective in an instant.
Both were dressed in jeans and casual button-downs. Experience pegged them as police.
“Katherine Tallerman?” The voice was gruff and raw, attached to an attitude that didn’t understand the word retreat.
“Go away, or I’ll call the cops… and I’ll scream like a banshee.” It was the only thing coming to mind.
“Keiki, we are the cops,” said a different voice with a warm southern drawl. “We’d like to talk to you for a few minutes. It’s about your friend.”
The use of her nickname suggested they’d done their homework, which a determined assassin would also do. “Look, here’s my badge.” The wolf held a gold shield up in front of the spyhole.
A wolf and a bear. One to cuddle and soothe my fears while the other prepares to devour me whole.
Neither voice held the peculiar accent of Shelly’s killer.
Instead of opening the door wide, she nudged it a few inches then wedged her stockinged foot near the edge for maximum resistance should they try to shove their way in. There was nothing within reach to chock under the knob.
She’d been so sure it would take them more time to find her. Time she could’ve used to prepare her mind and rehearse what to say.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
“Which friend? I have lots.” Keeping the solid door as a barrier between them provided a few minutes to get herself under control. She couldn’t wipe the image of the more intense man’s eyes from her mind, or the coiled savagery lurking within their depths.
Watch out for the Canis lupus.
“Shelly Harock. We understand you two were close.” Southern boy seemed to hold more patience.
“Yes, we are.” If she couldn’t remove the wobble from her words, she’d stand no chance of deceiving either of them.
At least I remembered to say are instead of were.
Her gaze scanned the area as if she’d find an answer to her dilemma in her apartment. A 12 gauge shotgun in the corner leaned beyond her reach, hidden behind the standing coat rack and Gabby’s long duster. Her father had refused to let her bring it when discussing college living options, since it was forbidden in the rental agreement. After her parents’ death, she couldn’t bear to part with it.
As if on cue, the police badge inched between the door and frame. “Katherine, if you don’t want us in your apartment, that’s fine. We’d be better suited to go to the station and chat.” The wolf’s silken voice held enough edge to be a threat.
“All right, you can come in.” She relinquished her weight against the door and pulled it open. “But the place is a mess.”
Despite their official status, she couldn’t abandon her instincts and turn her back on either. With a gesture, she ushered them forward and stood back, waiting for them to sit.
“Hi, I’m Detective Waylin. This is my partner, Detective Garnett. Thank you for seeing us.” The bear was trim and cute, but a shrewd intelligence lurked behind the tranquil façade, and like the wolf, he assessed everything.
The pair existed as visible opposites, darkness and light, laid back and focused intensity, each sexy in their own right. Forefront in her mind was the fact that they could both be dangerous.
“You look like a mildewed string bean.” Keiki bit the inside of her cheek and shrugged. Snark born of anxiety received more tolerance from the bearish cop.
The wolf coughed behind his fisted hand. “Yeah, he could stand to gain a few pounds.”
“Sorry, my mouth gets the better of me when taken by surprise.” The bear wasn’t thin yet wouldn’t have to suck in his shoulders to get through a narrow doorway.
“No problem.” Detective Garnett leaned back on the couch in the guise of relaxed alpha male. “You, um, look a bit nervous.”
“I’m a college student, and you two are cops. Do the math.” It was the dark predator’s ongoing assessment that sent alternate chills and heat firing through her nervous system. The freeze-thaw cycles would cause upheaval if not held in check.
She wasn’t about to sit beside them, or opposite them in the old, overstuffed recliner. Instead, she strode to the kitchen in the guise of hospitality. “Would either of you care for a glass of water or tea?”
“No, thanks,” they both declined.
Plastic cups creaked as she retrieved one and poured some sweet tea for herself then sat at the kitchen table, needing the comfort of familiar things to balance the information barreling her way.
“Is your roommate home?” The wolf looked around as if expecting company. He was the kind of man who’d sleep with one foot over the edge of the bed, undaunted by anything that could go bump in the night, since he was the fiercest, most dangerous creature around.
“No. She’s at her boyfriend’s place.” Keiki skimmed her trembling fingers across the tabletop, a gesture that soothed.
Garnett studied her as if dissecting a bug, figuring the best approach to achieve his goal.
A deep throat clearing accelerated her heart rate. Small talk would not be the wolf’s forte. She could get through the impending tragic news if he’d stop delving beneath her virtual armor with bullshit.
Chapter Six
A brief scan of the small apartment revealed a dichotomy in the way it was furnished. The sofa was soft leather with finely stitched pillows and a crocheted afghan lying across the top. In contrast, the faded and worn oversized recliner facing it equaled a cherished haven for a college kid to nestle in while watching a favorite movie.
Nolan formed a mental catalogue of the items in view, then frowned at the upper corner by the door. Except for the small cobweb, everything was neat and clean.
“Yeah, our resident night crawler. We feed him daily and leave the one Halloween decoration up year round. Lends authenticity.”
Whether her defense mechanism affected snark as a buffer against present company, expected news, o
r was a natural part of her personality remained to be seen. Either way, it shielded her vulnerability, to a point.
“Nice apartment. When my sisters went to college, the dorm rooms were concrete blocks with thin carpet and iffy hot water.” Nolan tested her reactions to get a baseline feel for her responses.
“I have scholarships for tuition and books.”
With arms crossing under her breasts, she radiated irritation and a closed-off persona.
“I also have a job. Not all college kids are airheads.”
“Which job are we talking about? You have two, yes?” Nolan took her anger in stride, unable to define its source. “You work for Franklin Harock. Does he pay well and have good… benefits?” He couldn’t identify the reasoning for skipping normal protocol and diving in on the offensive. His partner’s discreet shifting of position reminded him to tone it down.
“I work for him, yes. How did you know?”
Furrowed brow and thinned lips evidenced increasing stress. Her ability to maintain normal eye contact without unusual widening substantiated his belief she held nothing earth shattering behind the wall of swirling emotions.
He wanted to be the one to inform her of the news. Not to break her down but something else, deeper, something more that allowed him to see true character underneath the anger and bundled nerves.
When he told her, the news hit her like a ton of bricks. She turned away to gather herself, flattening both palms on the kitchen table as if to stave off pain.
On the wood surface sat a clear plastic baggie. The unmarked, unknown pills equaled leverage at the most opportune time. Glancing over at his partner revealed he’d also noticed.
Superficial details of Shelly’s death provoked tears and righteous anger, all sincere. Whatever had happened to her friend, Keiki’s grief came from the heart.
“I saw her Thursday. She was supposed to come over last night, but I got busy and fell asleep at the table.”
“Did Shelly say anything that would lead you to believe she was frightened or having trouble with a jealous ex?” Nolan asked, recalling the conversation with Franklin Harock, who claimed his daughter had no serious romantic entanglements or violent ex-boyfriends.
Keiki tilted her head to the side. “She did say there was a guy sitting outside the quad talking to a few of the KAs the other night. She and Gabby had just left a frat party and neither one recognized him. He must have been young enough to pass for a student, or she would’ve said something else.” This time, she briefly closed her eyes, as if trying to pick out a specific detail from memory.
“Description?” Coyote was pulling his notepad from his jacket pocket.
“No, just said he was creepy. Have you talked with Gabby today by any chance? I can’t find her. I’ve been looking all over campus.” Fingers twined and twisted in her lap until cracking knuckles and a pointed look from Coyote forced her to shove her hands in her pockets.
“No, we haven’t. We spoke with her boyfriend, said she left his place last night after having too much to drink. He claimed he was too drunk to see her home,” Nolan offered while trying to keep disgust out of his tone.
“Are you aware of Shelly frequenting a spot off the interstate near Gap Hollow?” Coyote took the lead, his expression nonjudgmental.
“Yes. Her family owns land around there. She kept a flower and herb patch in memory of her sister.” Keiki swiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “Is that where you found her?”
“Yes,” Nolan murmured. Unable to tolerate the pain etched in her face, he stood, needing to keep moving to prevent his arms from offering comfort. Being the oldest of five siblings brought out a softer side which needed squelching at times. He examined the pictures on the opposite wall.
“What’cha working on? Looks like a lot of pieces.” The sizable kitchen table doubled as her workspace.
Stepping closer, he picked up a thin piece of metal jointed in the middle with some type of broken connection on one end. The other end divided into four parts. Like a hand.
“It’s a prototype. I build drones for Harock Industries. He’ll sell them for me.” Keiki took the piece Nolan picked up, a scowl of disapproval creasing her forehead.
“Please don’t touch my stuff.”
“Can’t anyone put together a drone? Where’s the instructions?” His goading was unprofessional, unplanned, and had no basis in the current line of questioning.
“These can’t. The method of two-way audio and visual feeds make them unique.” Pride for her work strengthened her voice.
“Got a patent on any yet?” Coyote asked.
“Working on it. Do you know how long that process takes? I’ll get there, eventually.”
“I kind of gathered these are a bit delicate, since it seems to match the piece we found stuck in a woodland flowerbed.” Holding up his phone for her to see, Nolan swiped to the picture he’d taken of the bagged CSI evidence.
Her quick inhale and widened eyes declared they’d struck a nerve and jumped on the right track, wherever it led.
“Similar design, but that’s not one of mine. Look at the area above the elbow joint.” Keiki used two fingers to enlarge the picture on his phone. “What the hell?” Confusion that couldn’t be feigned hunched her shoulders and narrowed her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Nolan edged a little closer to see what forced the strong reaction. The proximity added a light tinge of her appealing fragrance. He expected a citrus or flowery scent. Instead, it was clean, maybe earthy, practical, and no-nonsense, just the way she presented herself underneath the nervous tension.
Her awareness zeroed in on his screen to the point she seemed to block out all other stimuli, including his proximity.
And how interesting is that?
“See here? There’s no engraving.” Picking up the metal spider-like piece in front of her, she repeatedly tapped a like area. “Look close here. I mark my parts.” Inquisitive energy infused her voice but failed to stop her fingers from shaking.
“So, this,” Coyote pointed to what Keiki held, “matches the part we found inside Shelly’s pocket.”
“You’re saying you found two spare parts? One’s mine, the other isn’t. Someone’s trying to frame me.” Keiki set her project down with a little more force than necessary. “I had a drone out there. An arm broke off, and she said she’d bring it back, but…”
“Why would someone frame you?” Nolan watched the transformation in her face from wary uncertainty to principled anger; the student had quite a backbone.
Shaking her head, she hardened her glare. “I don’t know. I didn’t hurt her, but I’ll damn well find out and let you know who did.”
“I believe that’s our job.” Nolan prepared himself for the storm but needed to see the depth of her reaction and self-control.
“Like you found my parents’ killer? Fat chance.”
“I’m sorry about your folks’ death. However, you were at the hillside scene, after a fashion.” Needing to push a bit further, Nolan made it a statement, insinuating she’d controlled the spy drone Coyote had threatened to shoot.
She ignored the bait, but looked away. “I was here yesterday morning. I can prove it.”
Nolan recognized the look in his partner’s eyes. The one declaring they’d reached a fork in the road. They knew Keiki had eyes on the scene, which wasn’t crossing legal lines. If either pushed too hard, they’d risk alienating a witness and possible suspect. They needed to back off and further study the situation.
“We know. We also know you made the anonymous 911 call.” It was a gamble, but Nolan took it. He’d let her skate on the spying since they didn’t have proof and no laws were broken.
“Yeah.” Her shoulders slumped and she dropped back in her chair, either guilt or grief weighing her down.
“How long have you known her?” Coyote murmured. The junior partner had a way of soothing interviewees with one part sincerity and two parts southern gentleman.
“Since grade school. When
my parents died in a carjacking, her family kind of took me in. I’d just started college.” With her palm on her forehead, she sighed as if gathering her thoughts. “Twice in one lifetime. How can this happen?” Tears trailed down her face, to be cleared away with angry swipes.
Nolan’s gut clenched in sympathy. She was first set adrift without viable family support, then again from her best friend. “Walk us through what happened.”
Similarities between Nolan and his witness generated a type of kinship, a situation he knew to avoid. He’d questioned beautiful women before without his body succumbing to the unnamed quality drawing him closer. That path was impulsive and irresponsible, a road never traveled.
Keiki’s voice remained flat through the telling. Despite that, she held something back and remained terrified of the killer.
“So, he wore a mask. Did you notice any identifying marks on his neck or arms? A tattoo maybe?”
“No, but I’ll never forget his eyes or his voice. His accent was some dialect of Spanish, but, well, I can’t define it.” She accepted, and made use of, a tissue Coyote offered.
When she reached in the baggie to grab one of the vibrant pills, Nolan snatched her wrist. “Ah, you do remember we’re cops, yes?”
“And you remember that I’m in the privacy of my own home, and as such am entitled to eat what I choose? I like chocolate.”
“Chocolate?” Coyote asked in disbelief.
“Yeah, colored chocolate candies. I’m addicted to them.”
“Hmm.” Nolan picked up the bag and sniffed.
Keiki snatched it back and snagged a handful, tossing them in her mouth with a glare. “Mine. Get your own.” Stepping away, she opened a cupboard and removed a brightly colored package. On it, the name and picture of said candy confirmed her claim. “See? I have to divide them in baggies and hide them from Gabby. She can finish a whole bag in no time.”
After watching her world crumble, Nolan couldn’t leave her in such an emotionally charged state. Through his own loss, he realized the simple support he could offer entailed directing her energy toward something positive.
A Critical Tangent Page 6