by Brooklyn Ann
Kat gritted her teeth. “You ended up working for your favorite band and had a crush on the lead singer. You’re with him now, and he’s head over heels in love with you. How does that not make you an expert?”
Kinley sighed. “Yeah, well, I had no clue what I was doing. Things just happened. And Quinn was the one who made the first move.”
“So I should see if Klement makes the first move?” Doubt curled in Kat’s belly. She didn’t even know if he liked her that way.
“Again, I have no idea. All I know is that it’s going to make the job awkward no matter what happens, because those feelings don’t just go away. I’m also relieved that it’s Klement you’re attracted to. Cliff didn’t strike me as the sharpest crayon in the box. And he’s a man-whore. Klement may be kinda crazy and neurotic, and with the height difference you guys would look funny together, but he’s definitely the nicest and smartest of the bunch.”
“Oh, definitely.” Kat agreed heartily. “Did I tell you that he’s not letting me pay him back for towing my car? And that he cleaned his house before I came? And he talked me down from a panic attack although he didn’t know I was starting to have one, and—”
Kinley cut her off. “Yeah, yeah. He’s a knight in shining armor. Anyway, I gotta go. We’re on the road to Portland.”
The sliding glass door opened behind Kat, and she turned to see the subject of her fixation. Even though he couldn’t have heard her, her face heated.
“You ready to take a look at your car?”
She closed her eyes, hoping to wipe the dopey look off her face. “Yeah.”
Following him out to his enormous garage, she was still in awe at his massive collection of cars and tools. Was there anything this guy didn’t dabble with?
“The first thing I’m going to do is check that fuel filter.” He opened a drawer in his gargantuan toolbox and pulled out a screwdriver. After popping the hood, he removed the hose clamps from the fuel filter. The sharp smell of gasoline permeated the shop.
“What the fuck?” Klement whispered as he held up the filter to the shop light.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s sticky.” He turned the filter in his hands, smelled it, and wiped his fingers on his jeans. “I think someone put sugar in your gas tank.”
Kat’s jaw dropped. That was the last thing she’d expected to hear. “What?”
Instead of answering, Klement walked around to the back of the car and opened the hatch door. Hefting her flat tire out of the rear compartment, he examined the rubber with piercing concentration. “It also looks like they popped this tire with a knife.”
“What the hell?” Kat said. “Why would someone do that?”
“No clue.” Klement frowned at the tire before giving her a sharp look. “Do you have any enemies here?”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t even know anyone around here, and I’m over a thousand miles from home.” The only possible enemy she could think of was her ex, and there was no way he could have followed her here.
Was there?
The concept sounded so ridiculous that she changed the subject.
“So, what’s it going to take to fix?” Her throat tightened as she asked the dreaded question. “Can she be fixed?”
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Klement frowned. “Yeah, but it’ll be a pain in the ass. We’re going to have to take off your throttle body, flush it out, clean your fuel lines, and probably drop your gas tank.” He shrugged and brushed a lock of hair behind his ear. “And we’re definitely going to need to replace that injector.”
“Oh my God.” He made it sound so simple, but how the hell was she going to afford it? True, she was getting paid a lot for this recording job, but she’d planned on giving a big chunk of that to her mom.
Klement looked at her stricken face, and his voice softened. “It’s a good thing you have an old car. If it was a newer model, you’d be screwed. But we can fix this. In the meantime, you can ride with me to the studio. I’m also going to call the police and file a report.”
“The police?” Kat’s throat tightened as memories of a uniformed monster loomed over her with giant fists.
Klement’s tone turned hard. “Yeah, I don’t have high hopes, but I want to do everything I can to catch the bastard who did this.” His brows drew together as he looked at her. “What’s wrong? You look pale all of a sudden.”
“It’s nothing.” She fought to regain composure. “I’m just shaken up.”
He reached out and placed a warm, steadying hand on her shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, Katana.”
Tears prickled her eyes at his kindness. It wasn’t his fault she had an unnatural phobia of cops. He really wanted to do everything he could to help her. Aside from her stepdad, no man had ever been that way with her.
Unable to help herself, she threw her arms around Klement. “Thank you,” she choked out. “Thank you so much.”
For a moment he stiffened in her embrace. Then, before she could pull back and apologize for jumping on him, Klement squeezed her tightly and rested his chin on the top of her head. His hand lightly caressed her lower back. “It’s going to be fine,” he assured her again.
A measure of her panic eased in the heat of his embrace. He felt strong, secure, and he had a nice clean smell, almost like fresh-baked bread. In his arms, Kat felt safe. If she hadn’t had a crush on him before, she certainly did now.
Gently, he pulled away, leaving her feeling bereft and empty. “I hear Rod pulling up with the groceries and pizza.”
“Uh-huh,” she stammered.
So much for staying professional.
Chapter Eight
Klement turned away from Kat, digging his nails into his palms. Hopefully the pain would make his raging erection go away. God, she’d felt so good in his arms. So soft and sweet-smelling, like honeysuckle. It was all he could do not to pick her up, lay her across the hood of one of his cars, and tear her clothes off with his teeth.
The savage urge surprised him and made him feel guilty. Kat was vulnerable and clearly under a lot of stress. The last thing she needed was for him to add to it by complicating their working relationship. He could feel her presence behind him, a tangible heat that ever tempted him to draw closer.
“You should head on inside. I’ll help Rod with the groceries.”
She nodded. He had to fight not to watch her walk away—or worse, follow her.
By the time he met Rod in the driveway, he had a measure of his lust under control.
“So, what’s the verdict on her car?” the drummer asked as they unloaded the groceries.
Klement kicked a pinecone. “Sugar in the gas tank.”
Rod’s brows rose. “No shit?” A million questions danced in his eyes, but Klement silenced him with a minute shake of his head.
“Yeah, and her tire wasn’t a normal flat. It’s got an obvious knife puncture. I’m on my way in to call the cops.”
“Again?”
“Damn straight.”
He chewed on the inside of his lip. First Cliff had gotten roadkill delivered to him, and now someone tampered with Kat’s car at the studio? Had the culprit somehow mistaken her vehicle for Cliff’s? Looking at the old Subaru wagon, it was doubtful. Then again, Cliff had been riding with Roderick because he was too much of a city boy to be able to handle the road up to Klement’s house. Regardless, Klem was determined to keep a close eye on both of them for the time being.
Kat would be easy since she was now relatively safe under his roof and would be riding with him. Cliff was a different story. He wouldn’t want to stay put here, and Klement had no inclination to follow him like a babysitter. But at least he could check out his security camera footage and find out who’d delivered the dead cat. And Rod could probably help.
“Hey, Rod?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you keep an eye on Cliff when he’s going out drinking, see if it looks like anyone’s following him or anything suspicious?”
“Sure thing.” Flicking a toothpick around with his tongue, the drummer gave Klement a look. “You don’t think there’s a connection between him and Kat, do you?”
“No,” Klem said vehemently.
Roderick gave him an odd look. “How do you know?”
Klement couldn’t tell him that he’d been chatting with her as his alternate identity and thus knew she’d stayed in both nights. His tech relationship with Kat was his secret. “Because Cliff would have been bragging about it non-stop.”
“Oh yeah. It looks like he owes me ten bucks.” The drummer grinned. “I’d be more cheerful about it, but it seems like she’s not interested in me either. What about you?”
“What about me?” Klement forced a nonchalant tone.
“You got to spend some time with her…” Rod trailed off with a wink.
Klement’s feelings about Kat were none of anyone’s business. He forced a derisive laugh. “Dude, her car was broken down.”
“Right.” Roderick paused. “Do you think maybe she let the word get out that she’s our new recording musician? Maybe some hardcore fan is pissed and taking it out on her—and on Cliff, too. Because he’s the front man, they could be blaming him for your decision to hire her.”
“That might be what’s going on,” Klement allowed. There had been nothing on Kat and Kinley’s blog about it, but she might have spilled to the wrong person. Or others might have. “I’ll ask her about it later tonight.”
Arms laden with shopping bags and steaming pizza boxes, they headed into the house. While Cliff and Rod put away the groceries, Klement called the police. Then all of them dug into the pizza.
Klement couldn’t hold back a smile at Kat’s blissful expression. Angelo’s made the best.
The gate buzzer sounded just as he finished his last slice. Klement checked the camera to verify that it was indeed the cops and not the stalker before he pushed the button to let them in.
“Mr. Burke, we meet again.”
Officer Shaw, the silver-haired cop he’d met last night, surveyed Klement with those steely eyes that only longtime veterans on the job seemed to have, and Klement fought back a sense of instinctive guilt. His younger troublemaking days were long since over.
“Yes.” He extended his hand and they shook. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”
Shaw inclined his head to his colleague, who looked to be fresh out of the academy. “This is Officer Tyson.”
Tyson didn’t shake hands because he was too busy gaping at Klement’s garage. Shaw frowned and subtly nudged him.
“Oh, yes. It is a pleasure to meet you. Where is the car that was tampered with?”
Klement beckoned Kat and led the group out to the garage. As he showed them the sticky fuel filter and the punctured tire, he noticed that Kat was huddled at the edge of the garage door, looking like she was ready to dart at any moment. When the police questioned her on possible motives and suspects, her face was chalk-white and she stuttered a few times.
Why was she so nervous? If he hadn’t seen how much she valued that old car, he might have wondered if she’d done it herself.
Officer Shaw also noticed her apprehension. “Are you all right, Miss James?”
She took a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry, I’m just terrified at the idea that someone would do this, and I don’t know who. I’ve never been to Denver before. I don’t know anyone here. It could be anyone.”
It was all Klement could do not to pull her into his arms when her voice broke.
Officer Shaw eyed her closely. “Mr. Burke told me over the phone that he thinks it might be a crazed fan, upset with your new position with their band. What do you think?”
Kat nodded. “A ton of people would be pissed if they knew. Lefty Swanson was one of the greatest guitar players who ever lived. I’m a nobody. Even worse, I’m a girl.”
Her casual dismissal of her value infuriated Klement. “You are not a nobody, Katana.” He turned back to the cops. “If you heard her play, you’d understand why I hired her.”
Officer Tyson perked up, but his partner stuck to the matter at hand. “Do you have any sexual or romantic involvement with Cliff Tracey?”
“Hell, no.” Kat shook her head so vigorously that Klement couldn’t help but smile. “For one thing, I’m here on business. For another, he stole my solo.”
Tyson laughed, and even Shaw cracked a smile before continuing. “The reason I ask is that Mr. Tracey has had some vindictive exes. Do you have one of those?”
“I haven’t been in a relationship in over six months, and I haven’t heard from him in four,” Kat answered. “I highly doubt I meant enough to Richard to follow me over a thousand miles. I’m sure he’s moved on.” She crossed her arms and finally met the policeman’s gaze. “I’m more inclined to believe that some overzealous fan found out about me and got angry.”
Officer Shaw nodded. “The problem with crazed fans is that there’s so many.” He looked back at Klement and pulled out his card. “We’ll have a patrol car drive through the neighborhood and by the studio for the time being. If you can think of any other suspects, don’t hesitate to call me.”
Before he left, he asked a few more questions and took the contaminated fuel filter and Kat’s punctured tire as evidence. When the pair was gone, Kat visibly relaxed.
“You okay?” Klement asked.
“Yeah, I just had a bad experience with cops a long time ago.”
Without elaborating, she headed back to the house. Klement followed with a frown. Kat lived in a small town in Idaho, hardly a place known for police brutality or anything.
She, Klem, Cliff and Roderick all headed up to the music room and practiced the next day’s songs, and he saw Kat’s mood improve. She was clearly more confident and relaxed than the first time, and it brought a wealth of improvement to their joined music.
For the first time in over a year, they felt like a band again. The dynamic didn’t feel like it had with Lefty. It was different but no less powerful, and so, as Cliff sang the last note of “Reckoning,” Klement made up his mind. Tomorrow, he would tell Kat about his decision to have her join them for Thrashfest. His resolve was bittersweet. While he was glad to see her succeed and wanted her talent to help shape the band, he also knew the rest of the ramifications of the decision. But he didn’t want to dwell on them now.
Clearing his throat, he addressed Kat and the guys. “I want to try ‘Yesterday’s Angst’ with that tune you were playing during our first talks back in February.”
Her head cocked to the side as she scratched his cat, Flea, behind the ears. “Which one?”
“I don’t think you named it, but it went like this.”
Klement played the hypnotic melody on his bass, and her eyes lit up with comprehension. “Oh! I didn’t remember playing that one for you.”
A jolt of unease crawled up his spine. Had he misremembered? What if she’d only played that tune when he was talking to her as IT Guy? Well, it was too late now.
“Cliff,” he said, “start the rhythm, and Kat, come in with it in three measures.”
It sounded even better than when he’d toyed around with it and the rough tracks. From the looks on Cliff and Rod’s faces, they thought the same.
“Okay,” Klement said. “I want you to do that tomorrow in the studio.”
Kat gasped and looked at him like he’d just offered her the moon. “You’re putting one of my riffs on the album?”
He just nodded and went back to plucking at his bass before she could see the way he was affected by the wonder in her eyes.
Rod saluted her with his drumstick. “Congrats, love.”
Cliff nodded. “It is a killer riff, and it fits like it was made for this song.” He smirked. “Better than the one Klement wrote.”
“Yes,” Klement admitted. “It is.”
He smiled at his bandmates’ approval. Kat was working out better every day. For some reason he felt a burst of pride, as if she were his own protégé. But she wasn’t.
All he’d done was given her some songs to learn. She’d done the rest on her own.
Even though he could have kept playing for hours, the other guys became restless and detached themselves from their instruments to go downstairs and watch a movie. Klement loved movies, but right now his massive ADHD was acting up so there was no way he’d be able to sit still and focus. When he was this way, if he wasn’t doing something, he got twitchy and his mind raced like a hamster in a wheel.
Kat went down to put away her clothes and take a shower. So, to distract himself from imagining hot water cascading on her naked body, Klement went to his office and checked out the last night’s security footage, which he’d been meaning to do for some time. Unfortunately, Cliff was right. It had been too dark to discern much detail on the delivery guy. And the man had left his car at the bottom of the driveway, too far from the gate to get more than a fuzzy image.
Muttering under his breath, Klement pulled up some video editing software. He wasn’t going to be defeated so easily.
Two hours and three cups of coffee later, he’d managed to get a better outline of the guy and the car. The guy was fairly hopeless. Aside from getting a better perspective on his height and build, there were no other details to be taken. It was like the son of a bitch expected cameras and had managed to avert his face from each. But Klement had better luck with the car. With a little more sharpening and adjusting the contrast, he was able to make out an emblem.
A Kia.
Something nagged at his subconscious then drifted away.
Klement rubbed his eyes. He nearly had a plate number, and he’d formed a strategy to focus in on it using another program, but staring at the grainy images was making him dizzy. No wonder, since it was one in the morning. So, making a few notes, he closed down his computer and resolved to work on it tomorrow.
Leaving his office, he walked through his quiet house. Everyone but the cats had gone to bed, and now they were rubbing at his ankles, eager for him to lie down with them. He was happy to comply, but once he was under the covers with the somnolent rhythm of purring felines, the realization that Kat was in the next room tugged at his mind, making sleep impossible. Unable to stop his meandering thoughts, he relived the feel of her embrace, the sweet smell of her hair.