“C’mon, kid. Let’s do this.”
Nolan’s brief touch of her shoulder was gone before she could shrug him off.
He was taller, hence would have a longer stride. That didn’t make him faster. She debated on going slow just to tick him off, except that wasn’t her style, and she refused to dishonor Shelly’s memory by throwing the race.
Those out in front were the first to experience each foam zone. Black lights placed along the trail would reveal the various colors soaking her white T-shirt and jeans as she ran.
With the bang came an explosion of racers from the starting line. She took off with grief urging her forward. Nolan kept an easy pace beside her.
Their route started in an open meadow but then wound through the woods on a dirt road. Low path lights provided enough illumination to visualize the way. The cleared path allowed five racers to run abreast.
Bright blue froth blasted from the first zone’s cannon to coat the runners. Black lights highlighted each racer’s clothes and shrieking laughter filled the atmosphere. Keiki’s right shoulder and jean-clad thigh sparkled with the thick fluff.
Peals of merriment and giggling behind them was reminiscent of how Shelly would shout and threaten a buzz cut if the colors didn’t wash out. Several runners held their arms wide to gather more froth and spread it over their shirts.
The knot in Keiki’s throat grew to golf-ball proportions and caused her to stumble, but Nolan’s waiting hand at her elbow steadied her step.
In response, she shot forward, needing to outrun the laughter and party atmosphere. It had been a mistake to come. The noise level couldn’t drown out her remorse or the memory of the killer’s threat.
Her conversation with Shelly’s parents earlier added another layer of grief. They’d asked her to come to their home, but she’d refused, needing time and not wanting to bring trouble to their door.
Nolan kept pace without a trace of heavy breathing or clumsy footing. By all appearances, he was in better shape than most of the runners.
Appropriate for his wolf avatar.
The two juniors who on occasion ran with them kept a steady stride behind her. Through several more stations, they each collected their due of color while making fun of each other.
Bright green suds spuming through the air indicated the next color zone to decorate her shirt. It reminded her of the greens Shelly liked to gather for Christmas wreaths. Thinking about the coming holidays brought a fresh lump to her throat. A small burst of speed pushed her ahead, where a small clearing offered the foam cannons particular advantage.
A sudden buzzing of small engines snapped her focus up to distinguish movement against a backdrop of fall leaves. Split-second analysis declared the drone not something an amateur would pilot. The dive-bomb maneuver it performed indicated more threat than curiosity.
Beside her, Nolan’s lateral shove sent her tumbling to the ground where a broken branch jammed into her calf and several small rocks embedded in her hip. His body covered hers as one of his hands cupped over her nose and mouth.
From the side, she caught sight of a small cloud of powder floating downward but then taken back with the breeze.
She fought like a demon possessed. “What the hell’s wrong with you, cop?”
Nolan quickly recovered, rolling to his side and sitting up while identifying himself as a police officer to those in close proximity.
The gun he’d palmed appeared a reflexive behavior.
“Weaponized drone. Stay on the ground, face the dirt, Keiki.” To reinforce his command, he shoved her head down.
In the periphery, she saw him searching out the threat. Nearby runners yelled, some turning to run back the way they’d come, others taking a lateral plunge toward the closest wooded cover.
Screams filled the air.
Gurgling sounds from the fallen junior behind them preceded an ear-splitting wail from the companion. Three yards away, the downed runner lay on her back, one hand at her throat and the other grasping at the air.
Keiki couldn’t ignore a friend in trouble. Curling on her side allowed her a view of their immediate vicinity along with being able to shield her face if necessary. When she started to inch toward the injured girl, Nolan shoved her down again, using his greater weight to keep her immobile.
“No, Keiki. We’re not clear yet.”
Behind them, the victim who’d dropped began stiffening then jerking with seizures.
One of her classmates in grade school had suffered from epilepsy, so Keiki knew what to do if she could get to the girl’s side.
Approaching runners froze then backed away to create a backlog until several took charge and stopped the forward progress of any others.
The drone with a death wish grew louder.
It’s coming for us again.
The thought, drones aren’t weapons, came unbidden, followed by the epiphany, they are now and the cop recognized it.
Intuition turned her face to the ground, her mind trying to piece together various parts of what the fuck, and, please God, don’t let anyone else die.
Beside her, Nolan knelt on one knee and followed his target with the barrel of his gun. He aimed and fired three shots in quick succession almost straight up in the air.
The loud crack made Keiki startle, her body freezing in fight or flight mode. Her fingers clenched in a protective gesture over her head while she lay on the ground panting and shaking in terror.
This was supposed to be a run honoring Shelly, not a mass murder site.
Once others heard shots fired and saw the scene including the seizures, the small meadow cleared with incredible speed. Teens and adults alike shrieked while running for cover, unable to see the threat’s origin.
A steady hum of rotors suggested the drone was either making a return trip or hovering nearby while the area evacuated.
Nolan stayed hunkered down beside her, she realized, so he could direct his shots upward and decrease the possibility of injuring bystanders. That he was willing to discharge his weapon near a crowd specified the severity of the threat.
She saw nothing except clouds and tree limbs, but heard the retreating sounds of the drone which had dive-bombed them. “What the hell is happening?”
The next time she shifted toward the junior who’d stopped seizing, he didn’t block her path.
“Didn’t you see the way that thing approached?”
“No, I was busy kissing the dirt.”
“It dove like a kamikaze pilot. I knew something was off. Then it released a cache of powder.” He pivoted toward the victim, now unconscious.
After Nolan returned his pistol to the ankle holster, several young men waiting at the clearing’s edge approached with caution.
The victim lay quiet while her panicked companion spoke in clipped words in a useless attempt to help.
Nolan continued to scan the area above them, his body tense and ready.
Keiki edged closer. Glow sticks revealed a deepening blue tinge to the unconscious girl’s lips. “Someone call 911! We need an ambulance.” Her shrill demand goaded the calmer young man to withdraw his phone from its pouch and make the call.
“Keiki, you all right?” Nolan watched the sky as he retrieved his own cell.
“Yes. What the hell’s going on?” Renewed panic set in when she couldn’t discern if the girl’s chest rose. Her eyes remained closed after her body ceased the random spasms. “I’m not sure she’s breathing.”
The soft flutter at the base of the girl’s throat was fast and thready when Keiki reached closer to see if feeble puffs would warm her fingers. “She’s got a pulse, and I feel breath moving.”
Nolan grabbed her arm away from the unconscious girl. “Don’t touch. She’s been poisoned. There’s nothing we can do until EMS arrives. Hopefully, distance and the breeze dispersed enough to prevent a lethal dose.”
A flurry of “Oh my God” and other expletives replaced the expansive quiet.
The surreal picture unfolded and exte
nded while Nolan’s partner arrived and helped take control of the frantic crowd.
Keiki sat in stunned horror, her mind a jumble of images and impressions. “It was the drone. It delivered a puff of—a drug?”
“Yes, and you were the target.” The cop helped her to stand and nudged her closer to his side, keeping his arm around her.
“She might die because of me? No, no, no. This can’t be happening.” Tears flowed unchecked, reviving memories of the juniors always together at the same events as Shelly, Gabby, and herself.
Nolan turned her to face him then nudged her head against his chest as he held her. To the side, she caught Coyote’s grim nod of acknowledgment to whatever words Nolan mouthed. Though she wasn’t a suspect, the killer had just pulled her deeper into his web.
A cop saved my life, but my presence might cause the death of another.
Since her parents’ murder, she’d had little respect for police of any kind. Despite current circumstances, she wouldn’t depend on anyone to save her again.
Chapter Eight
Light drizzle formed rivulets on the windshield by the time Detective Garnett returned to the police cruiser where Keiki waited in numb silence. Alone with her thoughts, she’d made no sense of the evening’s events.
A mask had prevented her from identifying the killer, so what was the point of tonight’s fiasco? In the end, she concluded the attack stemmed from a deranged mind.
The remaining race and scheduled after-party were canceled amid an abundance of discarded paper cups, plates, and other race debris littering the grounds. Event staff dispersed along with the rest of the crowd.
She’d never seen CSI techs in action. Their approach had been professional yet wary following Nolan’s briefing. Per his instructions, she now remained in the locked car with the windows closed.
A uniformed officer leaning against the vehicle’s hood cast repetitive glances her way as if she’d disappear into the ether. If he popped his chewing gum one more time, she’d hop out to wrestle it away and stick it in his buzz cut.
The evening’s horrific events played on a continuous reel in her mind. She’d heard a drone before the race began, but they were common at such events.
Someone wanted her dead. Why? It wasn’t as if she embroiled herself in shadowy business dealings. That wasn’t her style. Nor was it Shelly’s. They were a couple of college kids trying to finish school and start their own business.
She sensed Nolan’s presence before he tapped on the window of the passenger-side window. Weariness had settled its mantle about his shoulders long before he’d met the techs and directed them to the scene. They were back and packing their van to leave.
A look of cool determination locked in place when he opened her door. Fresh air blasted drowsy cobwebs away but offered no insight as to the direction of his thoughts.
Her need for normalcy in a world gone mad urged her to wrap her arms around his waist—until seeing his frown slide into place.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go home tonight.” His close scrutiny flitted around the scrubby field serving as the event’s parking lot. Few cars remained, those abandoned as individuals left together and several marked vehicles belonging to other officers.
“You think he’ll come at me again?”
“No way to know since we don’t have a motive behind all this.” His laser-focused gaze asked myriad questions for which no one had an answer.
She didn’t object when he took her by the arm and guided her to his SUV. “Coyote will drive your car, if you don’t mind.”
He obviously considered his suggestion a foregone conclusion. She gritted her teeth. Another instance where he uses charisma and his position to influence my decisions.
“Where’re we going? Is this procedure?” His touch was mild but resolute and created unfamiliar sensations coursing through her chest. Security, recognition of his protectiveness, and a low-level rapport developed a foothold in her mind.
He gave her a look, not that of the wolf, but something different, something she couldn’t define, yet trusted all the same.
“Don’t worry. He won’t search it. He was a kid once.”
“Not as long ago as you, I suppose.” One ominous barb after another surfed her thoughts. Confusing times and an uncertain future made her strike back.
His half-grin declared he understood.
“Sorry.” After the long wait in the patrol car, she was wired and knew there’d be no sleep in her immediate future.
“You want some coffee or a soda? Non-caffeinated? We can stop by your vehicle and get your jacket.”
“I’d love a latte. Grumpy’s is open all night.”
“Grumpy’s?”
“College dive.”
“How about some place you don’t normally frequent?”
“Sure. I could use a burger.”
“One burger, coming up.”
“How is it my face and hair look like I stepped inside a tie-dye washing machine and yours doesn’t?”
“Luck, I suppose.”
“I need to wipe this Goth makeup off my face. Glowing in the dark is one thing, but showing my face in public looking like a clown is different.”
“Don’t worry. I know just the place.”
He carried the build and confidence of an athlete. That combination along with his masculine grace proved more seductive that anything she’d ever experienced.
Opening the passenger door of his SUV for her earned him another notch on the respect-the-man scale. The slight gesture forced her to rethink her stance of lumping all cops in a pile.
He scanned the empty lot as he rounded the hood and dropped into the driver’s seat. The cost of maintaining constant vigilance was sure to take an eventual toll. She wondered if detectives burned out from high stress.
The subdued ride to town was comfortable in a strange kind of way, the source derived from not just safety, but something else. This air of protectiveness was a unique entity, something she hadn’t experienced even with her parents.
“You okay, kiddo?”
“Yeah. The paramedics said I’d be fine.” The few bruises would heal. “Is she gonna be okay?”
“Detective Waylin got an update. She’s in the ICU, but she’s conscious and aware of what’s going on.” The tenor of his voice radiated sympathy she didn’t deserve.
“Before you ask, I don’t know. I have no idea why I’m a target.” He’d either believe in her innocence or not. Regardless, she’d give him a copy of the video when they returned to her apartment. He’d earned that much trust.
When he pulled into the lot of an all-night diner, she grimaced. She hadn’t eaten here in years.
“What?” His look of concern coincided with a wary scrutiny of her face.
“Nothing. It’s just that I haven’t been here in like… forever. My dad used to be friends with the owner.”
The small restaurant looked more like a converted home on the inside, but the interior beckoned with vibrant-colored tufted seats, scarred wooden tables, and décor indicating a penchant for the 1980s.
“The food is good, the company better.”
Whether he referred to the few scattered customers visible through the massive bay windows or the staff, she didn’t know. Instead of waiting for him to open her door, she hopped out and matched his stride up the two wooden steps. “I need to wash my face before I feel human again.”
It was common enough for her to hang out with guys when they talked shop, the topics safe and comfortable. Nolan represented an enigma—sometimes a wolf, sometimes an open book. Two halves of the whole always alert like the predator he resembled.
His ploy for relaxing held an ulterior motive.
“Ask,” he commanded once they’d settled in a corner booth where he could see both the door and everyone seated inside.
“Is this going to be another interrogation?”
“Should it be?” His steady stare gave away nothing.
“No. I to
ld you. I don’t know who’s responsible. I really don’t. Yet you look like you don’t believe me.”
“I just don’t want another life cut short.”
His direct intensity remained locked on her face until she squirmed in her seat.
“Tell me about your parents,” He said and smiled at the waitress headed in their direction.
“They were good people, hard-working, honest, and devoted to each other. We used to watch scary movies on Friday nights and have breakfast out on Sunday mornings.” Keiki sighed, remembering the incentive for eating out. Her father once prepared a big breakfast and burned everything. “Dad had this old Chevy he was restoring. We’d spend a little time in the evenings working on it. I don’t think we were like most families. I was an only child, so, I don’t know.”
Nolan shifted in his seat. “You’ve not had an easy go of it since starting college. I think—”
“Hey, fella. Haven’t seen you in a while.” The waitress spared Keiki a quizzical frown before setting her sights on the detective.
“Hi, Tammy. My young friend here needs to try one of your super burgers.” Turning to Keiki, he added, “It’s a new addition to the menu you’ll love.”
“It was new several years ago.” A disapproving scowl accompanied a pat on the detective’s back before turning her full attention to Keiki. “Haven’t seen you bring a friend since, well, for a long time.”
“We ran the Foam Glitter run.” Keiki ignored the other woman’s smirk. “I’d love a beer and some fries to go with the burger, please.”
Nolan’s jaw went slack and the waitress snickered.
“I don’t buy alcohol for under-aged young women. I realize you probably drink on campus, but you should do so with moderation.”
“I don’t know who this moderation is, but she sounds like a bitch. So, no, thank you. I’ll have soda.” She beamed her sweetest smile at the detective, enjoying the hardening of his jaw.
The waitress cocked her hip and took a deep breath, touching a perfectly manicured nail to the notch at her throat. “I bet you Goth kids had fun tonight. I hear the after-party is an all-night blast.” Pursed lips betrayed her confusion over his choice of companions before her focus slipped to Keiki’s lap, as if expecting to see handcuffs.
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