“Oh, my word!” Yuki grabbed Whitney’s arms. “Are you okay? Do you know who it is?”
Whitney forced out a shaky smile. “I’m fine, and I don’t know the man who was killed. Not staff for sure, and I’ve never served him in the restaurant, so maybe not a guest.”
“Could be someone visiting a guest.”
“Likely,” Whitney said as tears pricked her eyes.
The man. The poor, poor man could have died simply because he had the misfortune of standing next to her and Percy had poor aim.
Yuki lifted her chin. “I’m going to call Tomio. To see if it’s safe to leave.”
Whitney nodded, and as Yuki hurried to an old olive-green phone hanging on the wall in the kitchen, Whitney went to her bedroom. At first, she’d thought it odd that Tomio kept the landlines connected in the apartments. With the storm, she now knew that it was a secondary option for when cell signals were sketchy, but she expected when the brunt of the storm hit, they could lose the landline connection, too.
Then she’d be stranded here. Percy silently waiting for the best time to approach.
Her knees went weak at the thought, and she dropped onto her bed by her nightstand. She unlocked the drawer with a key she wore around her neck to keep the kids from opening it. She took out the small gun safe and unlocked it. She’d bought the Tiffany blue Glock 19 with a stainless-steel slide the day after she fled from Percy. The same day she’d arrived at this Oregon resort high in the mountains. She didn’t need a pretty gun. Just one that got the job done. But this one had recently been traded in, and the gun shop owner said it was small enough that women could handle it fine. Then he’d given her basic instructions.
She’d read more on the Internet and took lessons from a local hunter. She was skilled now, but question was—could she actually pull the trigger and shoot a person? Even Percy?
“Whitney,” Yuki called out.
She shoved the gun under her pillow and closed the drawer in the nick of time before Yuki entered the room.
“Tomio doesn’t know the man, either. Says he’s not a guest.”
Tomio. She needed to talk to Tomio and show him Percy’s photo to see if he’d registered. Though that was highly unlikely with his picture being plastered all over the news.
Yuki shook her head. “Can you imagine? A murder here? In our sleepy resort?”
“No,” Whitney replied, but guilt gnawed on her stomach. The murder was all her fault. She’d brought death to the resort.
Yuki planted her hands on her slender hips. “The sheriff’s been called. Nate’s great at his job and would handle this well, but of course, he can’t get through.”
We can’t get out, and no one’s coming to help.
Panic crept up higher, Whitney barely able to hide it from Yuki now. “So what’s going to happen?”
“Nate put some man and woman in charge. They work for a company named Blackwell Tactical. Apparently, the woman was once one of those CSI people. Tomio gave them a tent, and they removed the floor so they could put it over the body to protect it.”
“They’re going to leave him there?” Her voice skated dangerously toward out of control.
“That’s what I thought, too. He said it’s a crime scene, and they weren’t authorized to move the man. Not even cover him with a tarp or blanket as they could contaminate the evidence. That’s why they wanted a tent so it doesn’t touch his body.” She worried her fingers over a silver cross she wore on a long chain. “I’ve watched all those CSI shows. Just never thought it would happen in my front yard.”
Whitney nodded and swallowed away the lump in her throat. “On the bright side, we have these two people who know what to do, and Tomio doesn’t have to take care of things.”
“Yes, that’s a good thing. And apparently, this Blackwell group is a mix of law enforcement and military. They’re top-notch from what Tomio said, and the people who are here have guns if we need protecting.”
“That’s good, too,” Whitney said and really meant it. Maybe she should go talk to them. Tell them about Percy and ask for their help. First, she’d find a way to ask Tomio about Percy.
“There’s just one thing.” Yuki frowned.
“What is it?”
“The Blackwell guy? You might want to steer clear of him. He was the guy you—”
A knock sounded on the door, taking Yuki’s attention and startling Whitney. She jumped to her feet, her gaze going wild for a moment, searching for a foe, before she settled down. “Who could be out here in the storm?”
“You stay here. I’ll find out.” Yuki bolted for the door before Whitney could recover from being startled and form a solid thought. Or stop her.
It could be Percy. Whitney had to be prepared.
She grabbed her gun and shoved it into her waistband. She felt safer with the gun close by, but she didn’t want Yuki to know she was carrying. She slipped a blazer over her shirt, and tugged the front closed. Drat. The button had fallen off, and she hadn’t had a chance to replace it. But she didn’t have another jacket in the room. She would simply have to remember to keep this one closed.
“Come in,” Yuki said loudly.
Whitney heard the door closing.
Please don’t let it be Percy.
“Whitney,” Yuki called out. “The guy from Blackwell is here to see you.”
Perfect. She needed to talk to him.
Holding her jacket together, she hurried to the living room. Her gaze landed on the man in the entryway, and her feet stuttered to a stop. There stood the infuriating man from the restaurant. Not the drunk McCray, but the big overprotective guy who thought she was completely helpless. And if her radar was on target, maybe was a bit interested in her, too. As a woman.
Alex Hamilton, he said his name was. She never expected to see him again. Especially since she thought Tomio would fire her, and she wouldn’t be going back into the dining room. But here he was. Seeming large and in charge in the small foyer just like he’d been in the restaurant.
So this was why Yuki said she should steer clear of him. She took a moment to look him over, vaguely aware of Yuki slipping into her boots and puffy coat behind him. He wore a stark white ski jacket, dark blue jeans, and heavy snow boots. He was around six feet, had dark curly hair, and his square jaw was covered in dark stubble. He had a curved nose and piercing amber eyes. He seemed larger and more dangerous than in the restaurant. Maybe because he wasn’t smiling with the gorgeous blonde. They sat close, whispering to each other, looking quite cozy and comfortable together.
He pulled off his gloves, and she checked for a wedding ring. None. Maybe the woman was his girlfriend, and they’d come here for a romantic ski trip.
“Hello again, Whitney,” he said, his tone curt now instead of protective. “I have a few questions I need to ask you.”
Seriously, he was upset with her? He was the one who messed things up with McCray. Over time, she’d learned to handle the often-inebriated man’s advances and brush them off. Even today, when he’d gotten more touchy-feely than he’d been in the past. She could have done a much better job extricating herself without help.
But no, in comes this guy on his white horse, thinking she needed saving, and messes everything up. It was kind of him to care enough to help, she supposed, and should cut him some slack for that. She didn’t exactly give him a break when he was only trying to keep McCray in his place, but still…
Yuki looked up at Alex. “Since you said it was safe for me to leave, I’m going to go.”
“You’re leaving?” Whitney hated that she sounded so desperate to keep Yuki in the apartment, but she didn’t want to be alone with this man. She didn’t know if she was ready to tell him or anyone about Percy potentially being the shooter.
Yuki zipped her coat. “I need to help Tomio calm the guests.”
Whitney winced. She was being extremely selfish, thinking only of herself and the kids, and Tomio had to be going through a terrible time with guests now stuck at the res
ort and a murdered man nearly on the front porch. “Let me know if I can do anything to help.”
“Thank you.” Yuki turned to Alex again. “I’m so glad you decided to vacation here. We—Tomio and I—are grateful for your assistance and feel much better knowing you and your teammate are here.”
She grabbed his hand and shook hard. “I look forward to meeting Samantha, too.”
Samantha. Was that the woman he was so cozy with in the dining room? Maybe she was his teammate and not a girlfriend. But Yuki said they were on vacation. Odd. Not that men and women couldn’t be friends and take a vacation together, it just wasn’t common. At least not that Whitney knew about.
Yuki released Alex’s hand and added a slight bow of deference as she smiled at him. He offered Yuki a genuine smile in return, and Whitney’s heart somersaulted at the charm he oozed. And he wasn’t even aiming it at her.
“Nice meeting you.” He opened the door for Yuki and stood back.
Well then. He truly was a gentleman. Likely why he came to Whitney’s aid in the restaurant, and she shouldn’t have snapped at him. She’d taken out her frustration from the handsy McCray on Alex. He didn’t deserve it, and she would apologize right up front.
She waited for the door to close.
“I’m sorry for my attitude in the restaurant. I was cranky about McCray and took it out on you.”
Alex gave a clipped nod but didn’t smile. Whitney expected he would after the way he treated Yuki. He leaned a shoulder against the door, looking casual, but his eyes were sharp and focused with an intensity that concerned her.
“I saw you run off.” His tone was equally as lethal as that smile had been. “Left the man behind in the snow.”
She hadn’t thought about how bad it looked that she ran away when a man lay on the ground with blood oozing from the bullet wound. “His eyes. I have medical training and knew he was dead. I couldn’t help him. And I was worried about the children and wanted to check on them.”
“You have children?” He sounded disappointed, and he shot a quick look at her hands. Maybe searching for a wedding ring.
“My sister’s kids. I took custody after she died.” Whitney purposely left out the fact that Vanessa had been murdered. Whitney needed to be extra vigilant. She would only give him the barest of information. She’d never heard of Blackwell, and for all she knew, he could have been sent by Percy.
4
Alex remained in place and watched Whitney carefully. He didn’t know what to believe. Did he believe those beautiful eyes staring at him, or did he believe his gut that said she was hiding something from him?
When she said she had kids, his heart had dropped in his chest like a meteor falling from the sky. He hadn’t seen a wedding ring so it was a shock for sure. Then she mentioned her sister, and he’d almost flinched at the raw misery he saw there. She was suffering deeply from her loss, and he had the urge to wrap her in his arms and comfort her.
Seriously, he’d just met her, and he was already too emotionally drawn to her to be totally impartial. He was in the exact situation where he’d counseled several of his teammates to back off due to personal connections. Most recently with Riley, whose former fiancé Leah had been accused of murder. Love had blinded the poor guy. Alex wasn’t blinded by love, but the way he was reacting to Whitney could sway his opinions.
If only Riley was here to set him straight. Or Gage. Jackson. Alex would even take Coop, who was often too blunt for his own good. He’d tempered it since he got married to Kiera, but still.
There was always Sam or Eryn or even Gage’s wife, Hannah. No. He couldn’t bring this up with any of them. He’d never confided much in a woman. Not after his mom, and he wasn’t going to start now. Nor was he going to let himself fall for this particular woman still watching him as if she had something to hide.
Facts. The investigation. That’s what he’d stick to.
“Do you own a gun?” he asked, thinking a blunt question might trip her up and bring out the truth.
A flash of surprise lit her eyes, but she controlled it in record time. Another red flag for Alex.
“I do.” Two words, said with rock solid strength.
“Mind if I have a look at it?”
She leveled her gaze on him. “Why?”
Obviously, she needed him to be even more blunt. “Because in my experience at a shooting, people take cover in the nearest location. Not run from it as if they have something to hide.”
She started to cross her arms then let them fall instead. “I explained that.”
“Yeah, but I’m not buying it.”
“Does it matter if you buy it or not?”
“Actually, it does.” He paused and firmly held her gaze. “The road’s blocked, and Sheriff Ryder just confirmed he can’t get up here for a few days. He’s officially deputized my partner, and I’m assisting her in finding the killer.”
Nate wanted to deputize Alex too, but Alex declined. He didn’t want the restrictions of following the myriad of rules when so many people were depending on him.
“A few days. Seriously?” She started pacing, her hand on the back of her neck, looking like a caged animal. “That can’t be right? I mean they must have a way to clear things faster.”
She was jonesing to leave, and he was positive she was hiding something big. “You can be sure he’ll do his best to get up here. As soon as the storm lets up enough, my team will fly him up here in our helo.”
She spun to look at him. Her blazer fell open. He spotted a handgun jammed in her waistband.
For a moment, shock kept him frozen in place, but then he drew his weapon and aimed it at her. “Your gun. On the table now. Slow and easy.”
She blinked a few times as if she didn’t know what he was talking about. “Oh. Wait. No. No. You have it all wrong. I didn’t shoot him. I was scared and took my gun out when I got home.”
He believed her, but maybe because he was interested in her, not because she truly was innocent. A mistake like that could turn deadly for him, and he had to follow protocol. “We’ll talk about that when I see your weapon on the table.”
She sighed and pulled the pastel blue gun from her waistband and placed it solidly on the table.
He didn’t lower his weapon. “Now take a few steps back.”
She did as told, and he slowly crossed the room. Sam’s constant warnings about not contaminating evidence played in his brain. He pulled down his sleeve to keep from smudging any prints and took a quick sniff of the weapon.
He doubted the gun had been recently fired, but he shoved it into his jacket pocket anyway. The fewer guns in people’s hands the better.
“You’re not going to like this,” he said meeting her gaze. “But I have to search you.”
Her face blanched. “No. No way. That’s wrong. Just plain wrong.”
“Put yourself in my shoes. A man has been murdered. You ran away from the scene. I find you with a gun. I have to protect myself and others.”
She sighed, a long drawn-out hiss as she held up her hands. “Fine. Go ahead.”
Alex had searched an untold number of people in his military career, but never had he patted down a woman who he found incredibly attractive.
He stowed his gun and focused on the goal as he performed the task, using a light touch and the back of his hands. But this close, he caught a hint of a coconut in her hair, and when he brushed against it, the strands felt as soft as a fluffy kitten.
Convinced she didn’t harbor another weapon, he stepped back.
“Well that was humiliating.” She dropped onto the seat of a ladderback chair and glared up at him.
If he tried his very hardest, he didn’t think he could come up with a worse way to meet this woman. In the course of a few hours he’d totally offended her. Not once, but twice.
Seriously. Way to go, Hamilton.
He stepped closer. She lurched back.
Yeah, he’d totally alienated her. “I’m sorry about the search. I really do feel
bad about it. I hope you can try to understand and won’t hold it against me.”
She clutched her hands together in her lap. “I understand, but that doesn’t mean I like a strange man barging into my apartment and searching me.”
Maybe if he wasn’t towering over her, she might relax a bit. He grabbed a chair and straddled it to face her. “I’ll need to see some identification.”
A small backpack sat on the table, and she tugged the strap close to pull out a wallet. She withdrew her driver’s license and handed it to him.
Whitney Neilson.
He studied it, looking to see if it was a forgery. Satisfied that it was real, he snapped a picture of the card and gave it back. “Do you know the man who was shot?”
She shook her head, that soft hair swishing on her shoulder. “Didn’t he have ID?”
“No.”
“No wallet? Phone? Nothing?” she asked.
“No.”
“That’s odd, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” he said, unwilling to share more. “What about the shooter?”
She twisted her hands together, and he felt bad for having to put her through this, but it couldn’t be helped. She was the nearest thing they had as a witness to the crime, and she had to be interviewed. He wished Sam was here instead. She’d know the right questions to ask for a murder investigation, but she was still securing the body, which was top priority next to guest safety.
Alex could easily put himself in Whitney’s place as he remembered sitting across the table from the detective investigating his mother’s death. Whitney might not know the deceased, but he was still gunned down next to her, and that would be difficult to recover from.
But he had to ignore her emotions and stay focused. Do the job Nate tasked him to do. “Did you see the shooter?”
“It all happened so fast. My head was down against the wind. I saw the victim’s feet. He was heading inside. I glanced up when the gun sounded, and he dropped to the ground.” She shuddered violently and wrapped her arms around her stomach.
An answer, but not a direct one. “Is that a yes or no? Did you see the shooter?”
Cold Pursuit Page 3