Keiki didn’t have the energy to correct the misconception, instead letting an eye roll convey her rising ire. Her skin felt too tight to contain the emotions roiling inside. It was a rare occasion she even sipped a glass of wine, but the evening’s events forced her to reconsider.
“I’ll have the usual, Tammy.” Nolan ignored her murmured, “Sugar,” endearment and sashay when she left.
“Do you always attract so much attention?” Keiki smirked at his obvious discomfort.
Taken by surprise, he managed a quick recovery. “Not as much as you do, I suppose.”
Whether he questioned her need to be the center of focus with the neon-green hair or dark makeup didn’t matter. They both washed off. “Neither this,” she flicked a long bright lock, “or this,” gesturing to the remains of dark lipstick and eye shadow, “is part of my day-to-day routine.”
“You don’t seem the type to be into that stuff.”
“I’m not. The makeup is Gabby’s, and the hair glow stuff, Shelly bought.”
Instead of challenging or defining her lifestyle choices, he continued to match her question for question, comment for comment through past memories of her parents, hobbies, and woodworking activities, vacations, and the like.
“So, tell me about your four sisters. I always wanted one but my parents said I broke the mold.”
“Well, Jenna is the youngest. She’s nineteen and a bit of a wild child and prankster. People never forget meeting her, but not because of her red hair and freckles.” Nolan nodded to the returning server and accepted the glass of ice water. “Faye is the oldest girl. She’s twenty-five and has a toddler and new baby. Maria and Faith are twins, and pretty much inseparable. We’re all pretty tight.”
Each glimpse into his life presented another layer declaring him a little more human.
“Why a business degree?” Keiki dug for more information.
“I wanted to learn about investing and earn enough so that when I had a family of my own, I’d be able to spend quality time with them.”
“You won’t be a cop until you retire?” She couldn’t reconcile a detective sitting at a desk studying the stock market.
“Haven’t decided yet. Once I got some experience under my belt, I wanted a calmer, less hectic life. City cops learn the ropes a lot faster. Coming back to this smaller department, I know how to handle situations and don’t take the work home with me.”
“Towns like ours don’t typically see such violence. I guess that gives you a different kind of working relationship with your colleagues.”
“Absolutely. We’re flexible with our schedules and have a different sense of comradery. As long as things are quiet and we turn in quality work, the chief is very tolerant.”
When the last bit of pie disappeared from their plates, she was reluctant to go. In his presence, she could almost deny the horrors of the past thirty-six hours. “I’d love to take a crack at your version of Hogan’s Alley.”
“Well, isn’t that a non sequitur.” He tilted his head to the side and leaned forward. “Why don’t you tell me what else is on your mind, like why you think you need target practice?”
He already knows I’m withholding pertinent facts.
“I have my father’s pistol. I used to be a good shot but haven’t been to a range since he died. It just seemed like a reasonable thing to do after tonight.”
“Where do you keep it?”
“Locked in the back of the entertainment center in our living room.”
“Okay. I can finagle a trip to the range.” The wolf’s grin was back in full force, declaring there’d also be a wager or quid pro quo.
“Look, your apartment is an hour’s drive away, and you’re mentally and physically exhausted. How about if Coyote and I put you up for the night in a local hotel? We can talk in the morning about safety concerns after you’ve absorbed the evening’s shock.”
And there it is. He uses whatever circumstances available to his advantage.
He didn’t look away, and she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of doing so. He challenged her at every turn, testing her strength, her resolve, as well as her intent.
“That can’t be normal protocol.”
“Actually, my partner’s been on the phone with the captain. Our department is too small to have a safe house. We need time to figure out what to do with you.”
“I’m not an inanimate object.”
“You will be if the killer gets hold of you.”
He made a valid point. Logic was usually her strong suit. “All right. But no funny business with you two.”
“Jesus, kid. Do I look like I have trouble getting a date?” The small smile he cast in their server’s direction was answered with a wide grin.
“You think this guy is going to come after me again?”
“Don’t know, but he now knows you have armed protection and might figure we’re cops. We’re gonna switch cars when we leave here, just for shits and giggles.”
“What about mine?”
“We’ll park it at the station.”
“Hmm. I’ll spend tonight in Gainesville, but I’m going back to my apartment tomorrow.” Again, she gestured to her face and the remnants of cosmetics she’d been unable to remove.
“Not the smartest move for a bright kid. We’ll park it elsewhere, then retrieve it in the morning.” Nolan fished his phone from his pocket and checked messages after explaining the rest of his plan involving an undercover officer.
“She’s gonna want to stay at my place? All night?” Keiki had nothing to hide, not that they could find, anyway.
“It can’t hurt. It’d be nice to wrap this up.”
Keiki didn’t have the answers he sought and couldn’t speculate as to the bigger picture. “I don’t want anyone else hurt in my place.”
“Quinlin looks enough like you, and she’s a cop with good instincts. When she gets here, you’ll exchange clothes. She’s about your height and build. My partner will stake out your apartment while we take his truck.”
Keiki grimaced at the thought of the killer tracking her to then breaking into her apartment. Even if he had a drone up, it wouldn’t be able to keep pace with a vehicle.
“I told you, she won’t search your place. Matter of fact, she’ll go straight to your couch, park it, and stay there for the rest of the night.”
“I have nothing to hide, but I don’t want anyone touching my electronics. Some of the pieces aren’t soldered.”
“I give you my word. ‘Kay?”
“All right.” Keiki leaned over and added, “Tell her if she gets bored, the drool-worthy reading material and videos are under the couch in the living room.”
She smirked at catching him off guard with his quick inhale and jaw dropping open.
The promise of revenge, or at least leveling the playing field, emanated from his every pore.
Chapter Nine
Exchanging clothes with an undercover officer in a restroom had never made Keiki’s to-do list. Confidence wavered with the announcement of her intended doppelganger’s recent graduation from the academy.
Keiki wouldn’t insult anyone who took risks few others would. The woman deserved respect, if not a visit to a psychiatrist.
Nolan frowned after Coyote shot him a solemn grin on arrival. The nonverbal exchange conveyed more than Keiki could define. If they’d done a cursory search of her car, she didn’t have any contraband.
The snippet of blind faith had been extended in hopes of earning their trust. She let them guide her to Coyote’s truck.
It hadn’t occurred to her that the hide-a-key under the tire well could allow any decent thug entrance. Someone could’ve planted false evidence. Self-chastisement would ensure adherence to a few basic safety rules in the future.
Nolan’s frequent glances in the rearview mirror during their drive kept her hands clenched in her lap. The thought of the killer following them kept her in a state of fearful expectation which drained her nerves.
“Your partner’s truck needs a little massaging.”
“What?” Nolan’s focus snapped in her direction, his confusion thick in the air.
Soft blue light from the console cut though the shadows to emphasize deep-set eyes and a strong jaw. A specific raw quality directed her way forced her to gulp her next breath.
“It rides like a lawnmower with doors.”
“He’s not mechanically inclined.”
“He’d get more power if he’d re-plumb the exhaust. Also, the little whirring noise that increases when the speed picks up could be beginning of an SOS.”
“Like?”
“Have to look to check the alternator bearings, water pump, and AC compressor to know.”
“You can do that stuff?” He relaxed against his seat, shaking his head.
She’d taken him by surprise, again.
“My dad owned a hardware store. We spent our time in the woodworking shop or tinkering with his old Chevy.”
“Handy talent. I’ll let him know.”
“How come you pulled babysitting duty tonight?”
“My partner had a date. Plus, I owe him one.”
The lopsided grin he aimed in her direction would’ve punched through most women’s defenses. Keiki’s intuition delved beneath the surface and knew when a man was interested. Nolan was. Yet his divided regard wove a web of confusion she couldn’t untangle or disengage.
By the time he parked the truck in the motel lot, she’d formed a vision of his odd partner around the swamp including dripping moss, scummy water, and rotting vegetation to go along with the sound of mud slurped by night predators and croaking frogs.
Nocturnal animals hunting and being hunted in return rounded out the picture. Coyote seemed the type at home wherever he landed, with a preference for the bayou.
She waited while Nolan strode into the office of the one-story structure. A long breezeway might have added to the quaintness decades prior, however, the isolated location and lack of cars on the heaved pavement added a macabre flavor she couldn’t shed.
When he returned bearing a single keycard, her thoughts stuttered. Instead of hopping out, she waited for him to slip back into the driver’s seat, as if expecting her ire.
“You got two, yes?”
“No.” He offered another you’ve-got-to-be-kidding look again before explaining, “You get the room. I’ll be outside.”
“Oh.” Anxiety jettisoned a questionable scenario from her mind. “Have you worked many homicides?”
“Enough to get the job done and keep you safe.” That said, he hopped out.
Before rounding the hood to act the part of a gentleman, he retrieved a small, black canvas bag from the truck bed.
She paused in opening her door. He’d halted to listen and survey his surroundings.
Notching her chin up to proclaim her confidence restored, she concluded, “I don’t hear anything, and nothing I know of could travel that speed and distance and track us at night, unless it was military grade.”
Cool, crisp air spiced with the scent of early fall and damp earth filled her chest. Dead leaves matted by the earlier drizzle formed a patchwork cover and necessitated careful navigation on wobbly legs. “I’m not usually this tired after a race.”
“You’ve had a tough couple of days.”
“I am not fragile.” She wanted to round on him, take out all the frustration, loss, and pain building in her chest. But the minute he took her elbow, the bubble of fear and anger dispersed.
Nolan shook his head and sighed. “Sorry. I realize that. I do.”
A pointed look at his carryall leveled part question and part accusation.
“I didn’t know how tired I’d be after the run, so I packed an overnight bag. I assume you’ll want to shampoo the goop out of your hair.” As if testing his theory, he reached out to finger several locks on her shoulder. “Huh, it’s so soft. Not what I thought.”
A shiver at his light caress startled them both. The benign gesture flipped a switch on her libido, which she determinedly shut down. “You’re out of touch.”
He grinned.
She scowled, never one to accept pampering. Regardless, it felt so good to know someone cared, even if it was his job.
“Just want you to reach your twenty-first birthday. It’s coming up soon, if I remember correctly.”
“Yeah, thanks. I appreciate it. My own knight in shining armor.”
“Not by a long shot, Keiki. Don’t make the mistake of thinking that way.”
Her gut instinct suggested him the type whose plans evolved on the fly while adapting to and incorporating any circumstance. He focused with goal-oriented intent, and emphasis on extracting whatever information he deemed necessary.
Which was why she needed to stay alert. Words could be twisted, their meanings dubious at best. She’d done nothing illegal and didn’t intend to get duped by charm.
Once in the room with the door locked, he pulled the curtains closed and turned on the light. His bag dropped to the single large bed with a thud.
Standard accommodations included one bed, a small recliner, and a round table with two chairs.
“You gonna be able to ditch the neon green of your hair?” Nolan asked as he poked his head in the small bathroom and turned on the light. “It’s not five star, but it’s located well and defendable without much risk of collateral damage.
“You’ve brought… people, here before?”
“No. I stayed here after the triathlon last spring.”
“Hmm. This stuff should wash out pretty easily with one shower.” She paused in thinking before nodding toward the window. “You’re gonna sleep in Coyote’s truck?”
“No. I’ll snag a blanket and be nearby.”
“How are you going to sleep?”
“I’m not. It’s called night shift.”
“It’s going to be cold out there, and it’s still drizzling off and on.”
“I’ll survive.” Nolan turned to go, his hand on the door. “Do not unlock this for anyone but me. Got it?”
Keiki huffed out a sigh. “Hey, listen. I’m not that much of a bitch. You can have the chair.” She nodded toward the worn out lounge by the window.
Nolan hesitated, looked outside, then closed his eyes and shook his head, as if contemplating crossing a line from which he couldn’t return.
“This way if someone breaks in, you won’t have to race thirty yards to get to my door and find me with a bullet in my brain. You’ll be here waiting for them.” His hesitation was more than she could bear.
“That’s the makings of a bad idea.”
“Please?”
He heaved a sigh.
“All right. Okay. This way I can hit the ground running in the morning and not have to sleep a few hours first. I’ll brace one of these chairs against the door.”
The thought of him nearby catapulted her senses to a hyperawareness never experienced around men. Once in the bathroom, she leaned against the door to take calming breaths. The enemy of her enemy was getting under her skin.
The first drops of hot water brought the full impact of near-death experience. A few tears mixed with the green water channeled down her cheeks. Diluted hair dye collected in the grout lines before circling the drain.
Minutes passed in flashbacks with her friends, one dead, one missing. When cold infiltrated every aspect of her body, it was time to get out.
Nolan’s sweats and a clean T-shirt made for strange pajamas, but better them than a hospital gown worn in the ICU. In thinking of the bigger picture, she hurried out to find Nolan settled in the chair. He’d changed his clothes.
One look at the bed sent her to the window. She couldn’t sleep. En route, she hesitated with her hand over the television’s power button until Nolan’s, “Um,” halted her progress.
“Right. Not a good idea.” Vestiges of the adrenaline surge kept her mind ever circling and her body in a constant state of motion.
Because she couldn’t turn her back on
someone who didn’t trust her, because the flashbacks of Shelly’s terror wouldn’t abate, and because another student was in the hospital, Keiki paced.
Forced concentration couldn’t keep her immobile. On her fifth pass between the exit and bathroom doors, Nolan stepped into her path.
“You want to talk?”
“No. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Because I’m a cop, or because I’m a man?”
“Um, neither. Both. I don’t know! Why is this happening?” She’d reached her breaking point, the one that turned her anger inward for going to the race or outward to the detective sworn to protect her.
“We’ll figure it out. Until then, we need to keep you safe.”
His hand hesitated in reaching out. “Katherine—”
“Keiki. Please call me Keiki. I won’t answer to anything else.” The edge to her tone developed a decidedly sharp threshold.
“All right, Keiki. But understand this. Tonight wasn’t your fault. None of it is. We can’t control the actions of others.”
He reeled her in and held her loose against his chest, offering comfort mixed with the option to flee. “I talked with Coyote while you were in the shower. Your classmate is talking now.”
Relief swept through her like a tidal wave. “Thank God. You don’t consider me guilty?”
“Of killing Shelly Harock then trying to deflect suspicion by having someone fly a drone at you? No, I don’t believe you had anything to do with either.” He rubbed her back, sifting his fingers through her wet hair.
“But you think I’m guilty of… something.”
“We’re all guilty of something or another. I don’t think you have the capacity for killing or creating mass mayhem. I don’t see it in your makeup.”
It was his compassion, his precise and accurate insight into her world which proved her undoing. One tear trailed another, followed by a broken sob before the floodgates opened.
He didn’t pry her away when she wrapped her arms around his waist and poured her heart out through the gush of tears. Just the opposite.
A Critical Tangent Page 9