Experiment in Terror (Koehler Brothers Book 1)

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Experiment in Terror (Koehler Brothers Book 1) Page 5

by Anderson, Alene


  “I’m sure that was it,” Charlie agreed.

  “If my parents knew how attracted I was to a homeless man, they would absolutely die.”

  “I must admit, he’s not your usual type.” Charlie smiled.

  “Oh, Charlie,” Amanda wailed. “What am I going to do? I can’t stop thinking about him. I can’t wait to see him again.”

  “This is only the first day,” Charlie said thoughtfully. “Maybe if you see him a few more times, the attraction will disappear.”

  “You’re probably right.” Amanda found herself somewhat relieved at the thought.

  Her friend looked thoughtful. “You don’t think he could be the Boulder Creek Killer?”

  Amanda was startled. “I don’t think so. After all, he didn’t turn up until after the third girl was found.”

  Charlie glanced at her watch. “I would like to talk more, but I have to get back to work. I have an appointment in a few minutes to help a lady pick out a dress for her son’s wedding.”

  “I should go, too. I haven’t gotten a thing done in my office yet today.”

  As they parted to go to their separate stores, Amanda gave Charlie a hug. “Thanks for listening,” she said.

  “Keep me posted.” About your homeless man dangled unspoken in the air.

  Amanda went back to Creations For You and headed directly to her office. She had been working only a short time on her financial records when Jenessa stuck her head in the door.

  “Dennis called while you were at lunch and wanted to know if we had decided anything. I told him I would talk to you and one of us would get back to him as soon as we made a decision.”

  “Jenessa, I’ve been thinking,” Amanda said. “If you will take the responsibility of having him sign the contract, collect the set-up fee, and have him make appointments with you when he needs to restock, you can tell him to come in and meet with you.”

  Jenessa’s face lit up. “Should I give him a reason for meeting with me rather than you?”

  “I don’t believe that’s necessary. He’s not going to know I usually do it. After all, you are the store manager, so it’s natural you might be involved in working with the artists.”

  “Okay, I’ll call him right now. Thanks for giving me this opportunity.”

  Jenessa left the office to make her telephone call, and Amanda turned back to the papers she had spread out on her desk. She immediately thought of the homeless man and wondered if she would see him on the way home. Glancing at her watch, she wondered how much longer before she could leave.

  It was obvious her talk with Charlie hadn’t made her change her mind about wanting to see him. The afternoon seemed to crawl by. Her reports were finally finished and she decided to go home. She called Jenessa on the intercom and asked her to come into her office.

  “How did it go with Dennis?” she asked her manager when she came to the door of her office.

  “Great. He wants to come by about ten in the morning, sign the contract, and pay his set-up fee.”

  “Could you ask him to come at nine, before the store opens at ten? That will give you time to take care of the paperwork and hopefully he can get his space set up with his art work. I don’t like artists setting up after the store opens. In the past, I’ve found they and the customers often get in each other’s way.”

  “I’ll call him back,” Jenessa said. “If that’s not a good time for him tomorrow, he’ll have to make it another day.”

  “Good. Let me know if he’s going to come in tomorrow. The timing will work for me. I’ll just come in a little later. Probably around ten-thirty. In the future, I want you to let me know when you schedule Dennis an appointment to restock.”

  “I’ll do it. I’m sorry you’ve taken such a dislike to him. But of course, it’s to my advantage since I get to work with him.”

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s my problem.”

  As Jenessa left her office, Amanda’s thoughts went immediately to the homeless man. She decided there was only one way she could find out more about him. She would have to find someone else who could obtain the information she wanted.

  Sloan, her attorney and Charlie’s husband, had a detective he used now and again. Amanda picked up her phone and dialed Sloan’s number. His assistant told her he was taking a deposition, but when he was finished, she would have him call.

  Amanda waited impatiently. How long did a deposition take? she wondered. It was past her usual quitting time and dusk was beginning to fall when he finally got back to her.

  “Sherri said you called,” he said after they exchanged greetings.

  Amanda was glad he didn’t question her as to why she would need a detective. She admired him for his ability to allow people their privacy unless it had something to do with one of his cases. He immediately gave her the name of the man he used, Gary Kaufmann, along with his telephone number.

  Glancing at her watch, she decided she would wait until the next day to make the call. It was getting late and she didn’t want to be on the bike path after dark. She wondered if she should take the bus home and leave her bike at the store.

  She didn’t want to miss a chance of seeing the homeless man in the morning, so she grabbed her helmet and gloves and hurried through the store to get her bike, calling goodnight to the two employees that would be working until closing time.

  As Amanda reached the bike path, she saw the empty stone bench. She couldn’t help but feel disappointed. She didn’t think Charlie’s suggestion was going to work when she said the attraction might disappear after she had seen him a few times.

  She was halfway home when a tall figure stepped out from behind a tree. Her heart slammed against her chest, feeling as though it was going to explode. She squeezed the hand brakes in order to avoid hitting him. In spite of her moment of fear, she felt happy when she recognized the man.

  He stood in front of her, staring at her through narrowed eyes.

  “I thought I told you not to ride this path after dark,” he said grimly, grabbing the handlebars in order to steady her.

  “I was held up at work,” she said, cringing slightly at the weak excuse. He was right. She wasn’t using her head. But that was his fault. If she hadn’t wanted to find out about him, she wouldn’t have stayed late at work in order to wait for Sloan’s call. “Besides, it isn’t totally dark yet.”

  “Maybe you just don’t like taking orders.”

  “Orders?” She scrunched up her face. “Why would I want to take orders from the likes of you?” she asked with cold sarcasm, not understanding why she was suddenly so angry.

  He stiffened as though she had struck him.

  “Because if you had any sense, you would know I’m right. Three girls have been killed on this path in the last few weeks. Do you want to be the fourth one?”

  “They were killed up by the library, not down here,” she rationalized, knowing he was right. Damn him.

  “You don’t know that. They could have been killed anywhere and dumped off by the library.”

  “If you will let go of my bike and step aside, I could get home before it gets any darker,” she said, glaring at him.

  He moved away, raising both hands in the air as though to show her she was free to go.

  Amanda pushed hard on one pedal and sent herself shooting down the path. She sailed down the pavement and across a wooden bridge and was soon making the turnoff to her house.

  The ride along the creek was usually therapeutic for her. When she had gone through her divorce from Eric, the bike ride home had often been a lifesaver for her. That, and having Sloan Harrison for an attorney. He was the best divorce attorney in Boulder and she had been ecstatic when she had been able to retain him before Eric.

  Charlie had been her best friend before she married Sloan. In fact, they
had gone to high school together. Amanda was happy they had found each other. They were both such super people and Josh, Charlie’s son by her first marriage, was an adorable little boy.

  As she rolled her bike into the garage, she couldn’t help but feel furious as she recalled the homeless man’s remarks. How dare he accuse her of not having any sense? Who did he think he was anyway? Yet there was something about him. A strange air of authority. He’d said she hadn’t listened to his orders. Orders. Did that imply he’d been a boss at some point? Or maybe a total control freak like Eric.

  What job had he had before he became homeless? Sloan had told her he had once met an attorney he knew panhandling down on Larimer Street in Denver. Sloan had explained the man had a bad drinking problem and had lost everything—his family, his home, his law practice.

  Not feeling like she wanted to eat yet, Amanda decided to vacuum and dust. It had been a few days since she had done so, and it would keep her busy until time to start preparations for dinner.

  Amanda put a CD on and turned it loud enough so she could hear it above the vacuum. She hummed along with the music until she heard the phone ringing.

  It was her mother, calling to inquire how her day had gone. Amanda told her about the appointments with the two prospective artists and the decision she had made regarding them.

  “I hope you had a good lunch.” Her mother always fussed over her as though, even at her age, she was unable to take care of herself.

  “Actually, I did. I went to lunch with Charlie Harrison.”

  “How’s she doing?”

  “Still on her honeymoon. Both she and Josh are absolutely crazy about Sloan.”

  “As they should be.”

  Her mother passed on a few tidbits of family news, then asked, “Would you like to have dinner with your father and me this evening?”

  “Thanks for the invitation, Mom, but I’m a little tired. Since I had a big lunch, I thought I would eat a light dinner and have an early night.”

  “If you’re sure. But you know we would love to have you.”

  “Ordinarily, I would love to come.”

  “All right, dear. Another time. You know you don’t need an invite. Just come any night. Of course, call first and make sure we’ll be here. You know your father and I like to eat out on a regular basis.”

  Amanda hung up the telephone and went back to her vacuuming. She couldn’t help wondering what her mother would have said if she had told her about the homeless man and how attracted she had been to him.

  There was only one answer. Her mother would have been absolutely horrified. It was fortunate that Charlie had taken it so calmly. At least if there were any more developments, she had someone to share them with. Regrettably, she couldn’t imagine having anything further to discuss with Charlie.

  In fact, she had definitely made up her mind to ride the bus the next day. It was the only way she had the remotest chance of forgetting about the homeless man and her attraction to him. With that plan decided, she put away the vacuum and headed for the kitchen.

  The evening passed as slowly as the afternoon at work had done. She picked up a book by one of her favorite authors, but try as she would, she couldn’t concentrate. She turned on the television and surfed the channels in an attempt to find a program that would hold her interest.

  There was no point in going to bed early. In spite of what she had told her mother, she wasn’t tired, and if she went to bed, she would only toss and turn. She should get herself a dog. It would be good company for her. She could put it in the backyard during the day. Now that she was rid of Eric, there was no reason not to have a dog. He had never wanted one. Said he didn’t want its hair showing up on his trousers.

  She stretched out on the couch. She was tired of trying to control her thoughts. Closing her eyes, she decided to give herself up to the luxury of thinking about the homeless man. She was able to immediately bring his face to mind and it gave her pleasure to remember those gray eyes and the way he had looked at her, as though he was as attracted to her as she was to him. She wondered if he was looking for a job. But who would hire him with those ragged clothes, shaggy hair, and beard?

  She really should quit riding her bike to work and take the bus. But then she wouldn’t be able to see him. She was tired of debating with herself, as to whether to ride her bike or take the bus. She wondered how much longer he would be hanging out with the other homeless men. Eventually, he would be heading off to some other town, which would cause her to lose all hope of finding anything out about him.

  She wished she would have had the courage to question him when she had almost run into him on her way home. Asked him what his name was, where he was from, what had happened to him that he was homeless. It would have been an ideal time to do so, since he had been alone.

  She could save herself the cost of hiring Gary Kaufmann, the detective. But perhaps it would be better if the man didn’t know she was interested enough in him to want answers to her questions. It might cause problems for her.

  She wouldn’t want him to become a stalker. All he would have to do some morning would be to follow her over to the Mall and see where she worked. And tonight, he hadn’t been that far from where she turned off to her house. He could follow her and find out where she lived.

  No, the wisest thing would be to pursue her plan to hire Gary Kaufmann to investigate him and find the answers for her.

  With that decision made, she decided to retire and as she climbed into bed, she was suddenly buoyant. Tomorrow she would see the homeless man.

  Chapter 5

  Matt stared after Amanda until she turned a corner on the bike path and disappeared from sight. A minute later, he heard her bike tires hitting the wooden slats of a nearby bridge.

  Why would I want to take orders from the likes of you? Her words played over and over in his head. Likes of you. Likes of you.

  He wished he could let her know who he really was. He would like to tell her they should explore the idea of dinner together. But he knew that wasn’t possible without blowing his cover. There was something more important here. Lives were at stake. He should forget about the blond biker until the Boulder Creek Killer had been apprehended.

  He shook his head to clear his mind then headed down the path toward the library, but he kept remembering her flashing blue eyes as she had asked why she should take orders from him. He couldn’t help but admire the way she had stood up to him. But why wouldn’t she? After all, she thought he was nothing but a homeless man. There had been defiance in her voice as well as some sort of challenge.

  He needed to pick up his sleeping bag from its hiding place and move to the bridge by the library. It would soon be dark and he wanted to be settled for the night. He hoped this would be the night he would catch the Boulder Creek Killer.

  As he shook out his sleeping bag high up under the bridge in front of the library, a couple of hundred feet from where the murdered girls bodies had been found, he knew he would be passing the time, as he had the previous night, thinking about the beautiful blonde on the bike.

  Tonight, he had made her angry and he wondered why. Usually the expression on her face when she saw him made him feel she was glad to see him. Maybe he had frightened her by stepping out onto the bike path. Perhaps she had used anger to cover her fright.

  For all she knew, he might be the Boulder Creek Killer. He hoped she didn’t think he was and stop riding her bike. He was aware she could either take the bus or drive to the Mall. But if she did either one of those things, he wouldn’t be able to see her again and that was the one bright spot in the hours that dragged by for him.

  Matt had been uncover for almost a week and he was anxious for something to happen. He was sure if the killer accosted a girl near the library, he would hear something. Even a muffled scream. With all the foot traffic at night, he
found it hard to believe the killer could attack someone on the path without being seen.

  He wondered if he was smart by hiding out under the bridge. What if the killer approached a would-be victim in another location? Just thinking of it made a knot of fear in his stomach. What if the killer had accosted the blonde on the bike last night, instead of him? Panic like he had never known swelled up in his throat. If anything happened to her while he was working this case, he would never get over the guilt.

  He couldn’t help but wish he had one or two clues about the killer. Unfortunately, the police chief hadn’t been able to give him a single one. Only information on the victims. And they all fit the same type—blond, slender, slightly over five feet tall.

 

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