Cold Pursuit

by Susan Sleeman

  She shot him a look. “I could say the same for you.”

  “Point taken, though I’m working the murder investigation, and it doesn’t stop for a storm. Why are you out?”

  “I got a desperate call from Whitney. She needs me to watch the kids so she can go somewhere.”

  So maybe this is what his feeling was about. “Where?”

  “She didn’t say.”

  Alex gestured at the swirling snow. “And you didn’t ask where she could be going in all of this?”

  “None of my business.” Without another word, she turned and climbed the stairs.

  Alex turned, too, in the opposite direction and took a stand between two tall junipers to wait for Whitney. He could go up to the apartment and ask about her plans, but her earlier cagey behavior said she’d clam up. Better to catch her in the act of leaving. He really didn’t like her for the murder, but his opinion was based on gut instinct. It never served him wrong in the past, but then… in the past he had a basis for what his gut told him. Here he only had a pair of gorgeous eyes that he couldn’t forget. Nothing to base a decision on in a murder investigation.

  The wind howled around him, and he could barely see three feet in front of his face, but he fixed his gaze on the breezeway and waited.

  Whitney didn’t disappoint. She appeared as a spirit through the snow, her bright blue jacket a beacon in the whirling white flakes. Her hood was up. Her head down. She came his way. Battling the wind with solid steps planted in the mounting snow.

  She reached him.

  He took a step forward. “Going somewhere, Whitney?”

  7

  Whitney whipped around. A man spoke. Here in the middle of the storm. Calling her name, his voice garbled and lifting on the biting wind.

  Percy?

  Her heart raced, and she searched the wall of snow for him. How she wished she had her gun, but Alex had taken it.

  She spotted the frame of the man. Tall and dark-haired like Percy.

  Please don’t let this be the end. Take me if you have to, but don’t let him get to the children.

  “Show yourself,” she demanded and crouched in a defensive posture.

  He stepped forward.

  “Alex,” she sighed out his name and gulped in a breath of the frigid air. “You almost scared me to death.”

  He moved closer, his expression an iron mask of indifference. He didn’t apologize or even acknowledge her fear, simply continued with the intimidating stare that raised her hackles.

  “Where are you going?” he asked. “We instituted a curfew—remember?—and you’re not on Tomio’s list of employees to report in today.”

  He was right. She shouldn’t have come out, but she had to. She’d spent the day waiting for Yuki to be freed up to watch the kids, allowing her to come talk to this man. But with his cold reception, she didn’t know if she’d made the right decision.

  Was this unyielding guy standing before her really the man she should confide in? This crazy handsome man whose intensity might indicate a harsher side—a side like Percy’s? If so, would Alex direct his anger at her the way Percy had?

  Remember the information you read on Blackwell’s website. They’re the good guys. The knights in shining armor.

  He would point any anger at Percy. At the person who could take innocent children. She had to count on that.

  She steeled her mind to continue with her plan. “I was coming to find you.”

  “Why?” Suspicion deepened his baritone voice.

  “I need to tell you why I bought the gun and ask for your help.”

  For a moment there was no response. Then he took her arm. “C’mon. We can go to my room to warm up and have some privacy.”

  His room? Seriously? She didn’t want to go to his room with him. Alone. She did want to speak in private, though.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, obviously sensing her distress. “Sam and I have a suite and there’s a living area where we can talk. And even if there wasn’t, I’m not that kind of guy. I’m not McCray. You have nothing to fear from me on that count.”

  Right. On that count. What about other counts, her heart screamed, and she hated that her heart was screaming anything. Her emotions whipped her through a gauntlet of fear, doubt, attraction, warning. She wanted to run toward him and run from him at the same time.

  “And I’ll make sure Sam’s there as chaperone if you like,” he offered.

  She did like, but it was hard enough talking about this with one person, let alone two. She’d seen the suites in her first week of employment at the resort when she’d been hired to deliver room service trays. She could handle being alone with him in the living area. After all, she was going to trust him with her most prized thing, her secret, so she could surely trust him to be a gentleman. He’d shown himself to be a man of honor in the restaurant. And he had been truthful in everything he said.

  But she still would like Sam nearby. Just in case her intuition was off—a good possibility as she never even suspected Percy of any wrongdoing and look how that turned out. “Maybe she could hang out in her room.”

  “Sure,” he said. “If that’s what you want.”

  She gave a quick nod and didn’t wait for him to lead the way but grabbed onto the rope Tomio had strung from the breezeway to the lodge for the employees when the storm had started in earnest. She kept a tight hold of it, her ice-crusted mittens clinging to the rough line. She sensed Alex behind her, but she couldn’t feel his movements on the rope. With his tracking and scouting experience, she doubted he needed any type of guide.

  Inside the foyer, she pushed her hood down and shook off the snow like a wet dog. She untwisted her crusty green scarf from around her neck and shards of snow fell to the floor.

  Alex stomped the snow from his boots, and shook his head, too, the hair she’d thought was totally brown looking almost red in the cool entry lights. He ran his fingers through it, putting every strand back into place.

  “Let me call Sam.” His beard held sparkling crystals like little diamonds, and for some reason she couldn’t even begin to fathom, she reached up to brush them away.

  He gaped at her for a moment, then his gaze heated up. She stepped back. So she hadn’t imagined it at the restaurant yesterday, he really was interested in her. She knew the look. She’d endured her share of awkward advances over the years. But despite her ban of all men after Percy’s deception, she liked seeing that Alex found her attractive.

  Seriously, what was wrong with her? She was here to discuss protection for the children, and she was flirting with the man who could provide it.

  Unbelievable, Whitney. Get a grip.

  “You’re calling Sam.” Her words extinguished that spark of interest like the foam spray from a strong fire extinguisher, and his closed expression and commanding presence were back.

  He phoned Sam, and Whitney heard her agree to join them before he ended the call.

  “Follow me,” he said and led the way to an ancient elevator that took its sweet old time getting started.

  The motor churned and groaned, the car creaking as it took them to the third floor. He stepped down the brightly lit hallway over carpet of abstract multi-colored skis. He swiped his keycard on a door and held it open for her. A moment of hesitation stalled her, until he gave her a pointed look, and she stepped into the sitting area. She looked around at a sofa, two arm chairs, and a coffee table. A kitchenette with coffeemaker, microwave, and refrigerator filled one wall. A small oblong table and four chairs sat in front of it.

  Sam poked her head out of the bedroom on the right. “I’m here if you need me, Whitney, but you can trust Alex.”

  “Thank you,” Whitney said.

  Sam nodded before backing away and leaving the door open a crack.

  Alex shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on a chair.

  Whitney unzipped her coat.

  “Let me help you with that.” He reached for her shoulders.

  She almost protested, but w
hy? Here was a rare gentleman who practiced the long-lost art of civility. He grasped her jacket, and she slipped out of the wet garment.

  He draped it over the nearest dining chair. “Can I get you some coffee or tea to warm up?”

  A good host, too.

  She wasn’t here for a social visit, but she was cold and a mug would give her something to do with her hands. “Tea would be wonderful.”

  He pointed at the sofa. “Take a seat. I’ll have it ready in a minute.”

  He went to the special hot water dispenser at the sink, and she headed for the sofa. Unlit logs filled the large stone fireplace sitting between two oversized windows with heavy velvet drapes closed against the cold. Real pine garland and pinecones stretched across the solid wood mantle, perfuming the air, and plaid Christmas stockings hanging from brass holders spelled out the word NOEL. The scene made her heart ache with pain at losing Vanessa.

  Memories of warm, wonder-filled holidays came flooding through her mind. Their magical childhood Christmases filled with toys and joy. Their teen years baking cookies and belting out carols while decorating the tree and wrapping gifts. Their young adult years coming home from stress-filled lives to relax with their parents. Then Isaiah and Zoey’s joy-filled expressions of wonder on Christmas Day. Vanessa simply alive with love for her children. Smiling. Laughing. Loving.

  Whitney’s heart overflowed and tears blurred her eyes.

  Would she ever enjoy holidays without her sister? It would get easier over the years, right? But that didn’t help now. Now she couldn’t even fathom a Thanksgiving meal or Christmas morning without her older sister.

  The sound of Alex’s boots thumping across the floor grabbed her attention, and she quickly looked up toward the ceiling to stop the tears. When she regained control and looked down, she discovered he’d set a Christmas mug and a basket holding an assortment of tea on the coffee table.

  She reached for the mug, remembering when she’d helped Yuki switch out the usual mugs for holiday ones. That day, as they’d worked side by side, Yuki shared her faith. Whitney was thrilled to hear that Yuki and Tomio were practicing Christians. Whitney’s faith might be suffering right now, but it comforted her to know she had fellow Christians to turn to if she needed support.

  “Help yourself.” He lifted another mug. “I’m going to take this to Sam and get some cocoa for myself.”

  Wow. More thoughtful behavior. He really was a good man—as Sam kept hinting at. When he stepped back into the room, Whitney had selected an apple spice blend tea bag. She dunked it in the mug and discretely watched him from a distance as he swiftly stirred a packet of cocoa into a cup of hot water. He attacked the cocoa with intensity, the way he seemed to tackle problems he encountered. Perhaps he really would be able to help her.

  He returned, holding up a matching mug and grinning. “Not like the real stuff you serve at the restaurant, but I’m not a tea drinker.”

  He balanced on the arm of a plush chair, his intense eyes laser-focused on hers. She looked down and drew in a breath. She could do this. Tell him about Vanessa and Percy. But could she do it without falling to pieces? He was going to challenge her story. No question in her mind, as he seemed to doubt others. Or maybe it was just her. Probably because she’d shut him down at every turn. With that kind of behavior, what was he to think? Or maybe because he caught her breaking curfew. That would surely make him suspicious.

  “You wanted to tell me about the gun,” he said, his tone softer than she’d heard so far.

  She took a sip of tea before starting and stared at the mug, her fingers gripped tightly around it. She just couldn’t look at him when she talked about Vanessa or she would start blubbering.

  “My sister was murdered about a month ago.” Her throat felt like it was swelling closed with the grief.

  He shifted, leaning closer, maybe hoping she would look up at him, but the anguish kept her head down.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss.” His sincere tone was almost the end of her emotional control.

  If she looked at him and saw compassion in his eyes, the tears would flow for sure. So she kept her focus on the mug. “Her husband, Percy, killed her. He’d been embezzling from his company for years. Vanessa found out and was going to report him. He got angry and shoved her down the steps of their house.”

  “That’s the reason you have custody of the children.” He got up and came toward her, moving slowly, then sat on the sofa next to her. Too close for her comfort. She noticed his long fingers splayed around the mug resting on expensive jeans that stretched taut against solid muscles.

  She looked up. His eyes were the color of dark honey, filled with kindness now. She couldn’t think with him this close, so she scooted back a bit, earning a raised eyebrow, but better that than encouraging her wayward thoughts.

  “What happened next?” he gently prodded.

  She looked away and fidgeted with her mug. “Percy should be in jail awaiting trial, but he escaped about two weeks ago and found me. Tried to kill me.”

  She took a long breath and tried to tell the story—each gory detail—as if it happened to someone else. But the fear and horror came back full force. The terror. The seconds counting down to death. Percy’s hot breath on her. The cold gun on her body. Everything jumbled in her brain, and her voice shook with fear.

  Alex reached out. Patted her hand. His touch was like a shock, and she jerked back.

  Disappointment flashed across his face. She’d hurt his feelings when all she’d meant to do was protect her own emotions.

  “So you bought a gun,” he said, his voice intense again, the tenderness gone.

  Maybe it was for the better. She put her mug on the table. “I didn’t buy it until after I took off with the kids. Percy threatened to get them back—and kill me. We ran. I got a fake ID and this job. My last name’s not Neilson, it’s Rochester.” Her anger at Percy now under control, she felt free to exchange gazes with Alex without crying. “I couldn’t let him take the kids. Can’t let him take them. I need your help. I think Percy might be here. He might be the shooter, and that bullet could’ve been for me. He could be here to kill me and take the children.”

  Alex set his mug on the table, too. She caught the spicy scent of his aftershave. He was such an enigma. Tough. Hard. A fierce warrior who she thought would be more at home in athletic attire or rugged outdoor wear. And yet, he was perfectly groomed, his clothing expensive. She ought to know. Her dad was a doctor, and his clothes cost big bucks, so she could recognize the quality of Alex’s jeans and navy button-down shirt.

  He took several long breaths, his chest rising and falling as if the thought of Percy going after the kids and her made him angry. She found that powerfully attractive and waited for him to offer his services.

  He met her gaze and held it. “So you want what from me exactly?”

  Not the answer she expected, and with those golden-honey eyes fixed on her, it was such a loaded question. “I looked at Blackwell Tactical’s website and saw that you offered protection services.”

  He blinked. “We do.”

  “Then I want to hire you to be with me twenty-four seven,” she stated bluntly. “With me and the kids, that is.”

  He sat back, running his fingers over his hair. Thinking. Not looking at her.

  She held her breath. She didn’t know him well enough to read him.

  “I don’t know,” he finally said, his tone hesitant.

  Was he going to turn her down?

  No. Please don’t say no.

  She was so sure once he heard her story and asked all questions to prove she was telling him the truth that he would agree. He would stand up and fight for her—for the kids. Goes to show she shouldn’t be trying to judge him by his looks or his behavior in the short time she’d known him. Didn’t Percy’s deception teach her anything at all?

  He scrubbed a hand over his carefully groomed whiskers. “I hate the thought of you and the kids being in danger, but I’ve already made a
commitment to the sheriff to find this killer and keep everyone here safe. If I hunker down in your apartment with you, I can’t fulfill that commitment.”

  She was relieved to hear his reasoning and almost sighed. He made perfect sense. He was thinking of the greater good. She wanted the others to be safe—of course she did—but she had to admit to selfishly wanting Isaiah and Zoey to take priority.

  They couldn’t advocate for themselves. She had to do it for them, and she wouldn’t give up easily. “Can we find a compromise?”

  “Like what?”

  That was the question of the hour. The day. Her life. The kids’ lives. “I don’t know. Maybe we can move Isaiah and Zoey to a room where no one knows where they are except us and Yuki and Tomio. That would remove them from the danger of being with me.”

  “And what about you?” He raised his eyebrow.

  Yeah, what about her? The only thing that really mattered was that the kids were safe. Well, she did matter to the kids. They couldn’t survive another loss, and she had to think of staying safe for them, too.

  “I don’t know what to do.” She thought for a moment and saw a vision of Alex investigating the murder. “What if I accompanied you when you do whatever you have to do? You know, sort of be under your protection that way.”

  His full lips turned down in a mega frown, and he gave a solid shake of his head. “That could put you right in the line of fire, an even more dangerous position than hunkering down by yourself.”

  “Okay, plan C, then.” She tried to come up with it as desperation settled in. “What if Sam handled the investigation and you take care of our safety?”

  Another shake of his head. “I can’t bail on her either. We’re a team, and I can’t let her do all the work.”

  His continued no was echoing in her head so loudly that it was all she could hear, and she couldn’t think logically. Couldn’t sit. Especially not next to a guy who was turning her down flat when she needed him.

  She jumped up. Paced back and forth, her thoughts still clouded and no solution coming to her.