Ice Cold Killer

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Ice Cold Killer Page 16

by Cindi Myers


  When at last he eased away from her to dispose of the condom, she let him go reluctantly. When he returned, he pulled her close again, her head cradled on his shoulder, his arm securely around him. The steady beat of his heart lulled her to sleep, the message it sent more powerful than any words.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ryder breathed in the perfume of Darcy’s hair, and reveled in her softness against him. The comfortable bed in this cozy loft seemed a world apart from the snowy landscape outside where a murderer might lurk. But he could only hide from that world so long, before duty and his conscience drove him to sit up and reach for his clothes.

  “You’re not leaving, are you?” Darcy shoved up onto one elbow, one bare shoulder exposed, tousled hair falling across her forehead. She looked so alluring, he wondered if he really had the strength to resist the temptation to dive back under the covers with her.

  “I’m not leaving,” he said, standing and tugging on his jeans. “But I have to call in a report about that snowmobiler.” Later he’d have to file a report for his commander, explaining why he had discharged his weapon. “I should have called it in earlier.”

  “We were both a little distracted,” she said, and the heated look that accompanied these words had him aroused and ready all over again.

  “I’ll, uh, be right back,” he said, grabbing a shirt and heading for the stairs.

  Three of the four cats met him at the bottom of the steps, studying him with golden eyes, tails twitching. “It’s okay,” Ryder said, stepping past them. “I’m not the enemy.”

  He punched in Travis’s number and while he waited for the sheriff to answer, he studied the view out the window. The sun was setting, slanting light through the trees and bathing the snow in a rosy glow. It was the kind of scene depicted in paintings and photographs, or on posters with sayings about peace and serenity—not the kind of setting where one expected to encounter danger.

  “Ryder? What’s up?” Travis’s voice betrayed no emotion, only brisk efficiency.

  “Darcy and I were skiing over at Silver Pick rec area and a snowmobiler tried to run us down,” Ryder said. “I fired off a couple of shots and he fled. I followed, but I lost him on the snowmobile trails on the other side of the road.”

  “When was this?” Travis asked.

  Ryder looked around and spotted the clock on the microwave, which read four thirty. “Around three o’clock,” he said.

  “And you’re just now calling it in?”

  “Yes.”

  Travis paused as if waiting for further explanation, but Ryder didn’t intend to offer any. “All right,” the sheriff said. “Can you give me a description of the guy, or his snowmobile?”

  “It was a Polaris, and one of my shots hit the windscreen and shattered it. The driver was wearing black insulated coveralls and a full helmet, black. That’s all I’ve got.”

  “Let me make sure I’m clear on this,” Travis said. “You and Darcy were on the ski trails, on the east side of the highway, closest to the river, right?”

  “Right. We were headed back to the parking lot and were in that open flat, maybe a quarter mile from the parking area. He came straight toward us. We bailed off the trail and tried to make it through the woods, but the snow there is thigh-deep and soft. He missed us his first pass, then turned and came back toward us. That’s when I fired on him.”

  “How many shots?” Travis asked.

  “Three. One hit the windscreen and two went wide.”

  “Hard to hit a moving target like that with a pistol,” Travis said. “This doesn’t sound like our serial killer. For one thing, running over someone with a snowmobile is a pretty inefficient way to kill someone.”

  “If he had hit us, chances are he’d have been injured himself,” Ryder said. “He probably would have wrecked his machine and could have been thrown off it, too.”

  “So maybe he wasn’t trying to hit you,” Travis said. “Maybe he was playing a pretty aggressive game of chicken.”

  “Maybe,” Ryder said. “But he sure looked serious to me.”

  “Ed Nichols has a Polaris snowmobile,” Travis said. “Gage saw it when he interviewed him about his alibi for Kelly’s murder.”

  Nichols. Ryder hadn’t focused much attention on the veterinarian after all his alibis had checked out. Clearly, that had been a mistake. “We need to find out what he was doing this afternoon,” Ryder said. “And check the windscreen of his snowmobile. Maybe he was the one who ran Darcy off the road that night, too.”

  “He has an alibi for that evening,” Travis said. “He was cooking for a church spaghetti supper.”

  “It doesn’t seem likely we’d be dealing with two different attackers,” Ryder said. What could Darcy have done to make herself such a target?

  “Question Darcy again,” Travis said. “See if she can come up with anyone who might want to get back at her for something. Maybe she failed to save someone’s sick dog, or someone disagreed with her bill—it doesn’t take much to set some people off.”

  “I’ll do that,” Ryder said. “Let me know if you spot any snowmobiles with the windscreens shot out.”

  He ended the call and turned to find Darcy, wrapped in a pink fleece robe, standing at the bottom of the steps, watching him. “Do you have to go?” she asked.

  “No.” He pocketed the phone. “I can stay if you want.”

  “I’d like that.” She moved to him and put her arms around him. He kissed the top of her head, wondering how she’d react if he suggested they go back to bed.

  “I’d like to take a shower,” she said, pulling away from him. “Unfortunately, my shower isn’t big enough for two people.”

  “You go ahead,” he said. “I’ll clean up when you’re done.”

  She nodded and headed for the bathroom. Once the water was running, Ryder called into his office. His supervisor was out, but he made his report to the duty officer and promised to follow up with the appropriate paperwork. When Darcy emerged from the shower, pink-cheeked, damp hair curling around her throat, he was studying a photo of her standing with an older couple. “Are these your parents?” he asked.

  “My mom and her boyfriend.” Darcy came to stand beside him. “That was taken the day I graduated from veterinary school.”

  “Where does she live?” Ryder asked.

  “Denver. Though she isn’t home that much. She travels a lot. Right now she’s in China, I think. Or India?” She frowned. “It’s hard to keep up. We’re not close.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said and meant it. Though he didn’t see them often, he had always felt embraced by his own family.

  “It’s okay,” she said.

  “Where is your father?” he asked.

  “I have no idea. He and my mother divorced when I was six months old. I never knew him.”

  His instinct was to tell her how sad this was, but clearly, she didn’t want any sympathy. “What about your family?” she asked.

  “My mom and dad are in Cheyenne,” he said. “I have a brother in Seattle and a sister in Denver. We’re all pretty close.”

  “That’s nice.” She patted his arm. “The shower is all yours.”

  When he emerged from the shower—which, in keeping with everything else in the house, was tiny—she handed him a glass of wine. “I don’t have anything stronger in the house,” she said. “I figured we could both use it.”

  She sat on the sofa, legs curled up beneath her robe, and he moved aside a couple of throw pillows and sat beside her, his arm around her shoulders. She snuggled close. “What a day, huh?” she said.

  He stroked her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “Better.” She sipped the wine, then set the glass on the low table in front of them. “I can’t promise I won’t have nightmares about that snowmobile headed straight for us. I mean, it was scary when that guy ran me off the road, b
ut this was worse. I felt so vulnerable, out there in the open. And he seemed closer, without a vehicle around him. The attack seemed so much more personal.” She shuddered, and he set aside his glass to wrap his other arm around her.

  They were both silent for a long moment. Ryder wondered if she was crying, but when she looked up at him, her eyes were dry. “Why is someone trying to kill me?” she asked.

  “Kill you—or frighten you badly,” Ryder said. He leaned forward and handed her her wineglass and picked up his own. “I know I’ve asked you this before, but can you think of anyone who might want to hurt you? A client or someone who wanted to rent this place and you beat them to it? Anything like that?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve thought and thought and there isn’t anyone.”

  “We checked on Jay Leverett,” he said, not missing how she stiffened at the mention of the name.

  “Oh?” she asked.

  “He was released from prison two months ago. We’re still trying to find out where he went after that.”

  “I’m sure I would recognize him if he was here in Eagle Mountain,” she said. She set her now-empty wineglass aside and half turned to face Ryder. “Why would he come after me now—after all this time? It’s been six years since he raped me, and I wasn’t the first woman he had hurt—or the only one. Mine wasn’t even the crime he was sentenced for—he was caught when he broke into a girls’ dorm and attacked one of the women there. Why would he come after me?”

  “What he did to you before didn’t make sense, either,” Ryder said. “And this may have nothing to do with him. We just need to be sure.”

  “Did whoever is after me kill Kelly and Christy and Fiona, too?” she asked.

  “We don’t know,” Ryder said. “Your attacker could be someone different. As far as we know, Kelly and the others were never pursued prior to their deaths.”

  “How did I get to be so lucky?” She tried to smile but failed, and her voice shook.

  He took both her hands in his—they were ice cold. “We can find you a safe place to stay until we’ve tracked this guy down,” he said. “Travis’s family probably has room at their ranch—or you could stay with me. My place isn’t much, but you’d be safe there.”

  She nodded. “Maybe it’s time for something like that,” she said. “I mean, I don’t want to be stupid about this—I just hate being chased out of my own home.”

  “I understand.” He admired her independence, but was relieved she was smart enough to accept help. “My place isn’t set up for cats, but if you tell me what you need...”

  “I think I’ll leave them here,” she said. “I can come by and check on them every day.”

  “Do you want me to call Travis and have him ask his parents if you can stay with them, or are you comfortable moving in with me?”

  “I’ll stay with you.” She leaned toward him once more, her hands on his shoulders. “I think I can trust you.”

  He knew how much those words meant, coming from her. He pulled her close. “We don’t have to be in any hurry,” he said. “What would you think if I spent the night here tonight?”

  A slow smile spread across her lips. “I think that’s a very good idea,” she whispered and kissed him, a soft, deep kiss that hinted at much more to come.

  * * *

  HALF OF DARCY’S clients canceled their appointments the next day. The highway had opened at last, and everyone was anxious to drive over the pass to do shopping and run errands. A steady stream of delivery trucks flowed into town. The prospect of new supplies, along with the abundant sunshine, had everyone in a jubilant mood.

  “If I call the patients who still have appointments today and convince them to come in early, do you think we could close up ahead of schedule?” Stacy asked after yet another client called to move their appointment to another day. “I’d really like to get over to Junction and do some shopping.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Darcy said.

  “You could come with me, if you like.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got plenty to keep me busy here.” She and Ryder had agreed that she would head back to her place after work, pack up whatever she thought she needed for the next few days, make sure the cats were settled, then drive over to his house.

  It’s only temporary, she reminded herself. It’s not as if we’re really moving in together. After all, they had known each other only a few days, even though it felt as if he already knew her better than anyone ever had. He had learned to read her moods and anticipate her thoughts, attuned to her in a way that was both touching and awe-inspiring.

  When they reopened the office after lunch, Darcy was surprised to find Ken waiting outside the clinic. “What can we do for you?” Stacy asked as she waited for Darcy to unlock the door. “Are you overdue for your rabies shot?”

  “Very funny.” He followed them into the clinic. “I just stopped by to see how you’re doing,” he said to Darcy.

  “I’m fine.” Had word somehow gotten out about her encounter with the homicidal snowmobiler the day before?

  “Why wouldn’t she be fine?” Stacy asked.

  Ken glared at her. “Don’t you have work to do?”

  “It’s much more fun to annoy you.”

  Ken turned his back on her. “The sheriff’s department and that highway patrolman haven’t done anything to stop this Ice Cold Killer. Everyone is wondering who he’s going to kill next.”

  “The local law enforcement officers are working very hard to try to stop the killer,” Darcy said.

  “But they aren’t getting anywhere, are they? They don’t have any suspects, do they?” He stared at her as if expecting an answer.

  “I wouldn’t know,” she said.

  “I thought you might, since you and that highway patrolman are so cozy.”

  He looked as if he expected her to confirm or deny this. She did neither. She certainly wasn’t going to tell Ken she was moving in with Ryder. She had decided not to share their plans with anyone. Not because she was ashamed, but because she and Ryder had agreed the fewer people who knew where she was, the safer she would be.

  She took her white coat from its peg and put it on. “Thanks for stopping by,” she said. “I have to get ready to see my afternoon patients.”

  “I know the female teachers at my school are terrified,” he continued. “The male teachers have agreed to walk them to their cars, kind of like bodyguards.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you,” Darcy said.

  “You should do something like that here,” he said.

  “I’m being careful.”

  “Now that the highway is open, maybe the killer will take the opportunity to get out of here,” Stacy said. “Maybe he’s already gone.”

  “I guess that would be good,” Ken said.

  “I’d rather see him caught and stopped,” Darcy said. “I hate to think of him moving on to somewhere else to kill more women.”

  “Now that the road is open, maybe they’ll get some experts in who can track him down,” Ken said.

  Darcy resisted the impulse to defend Ryder. She sensed Ken was only trying to bait her, and she wasn’t going to waste energy sparring with him.

  He shifted his weight to his other hip, apparently prepared to stay until she ordered him away. “I guess now that the road is open, Kelly’s parents will be coming to clear her things out of the duplex,” he said.

  “I guess so.” She frowned, thinking of all the clinic supplies in the garage. “I’ll need to clear out the garage,” she said. “And find some place to store all that stuff here.”

  “Why don’t you just move in, instead?” Ken asked. “My landlord would be happy to find a renter so easily. You’d be closer to work and town and you could still use the garage for storage.”

  “I like the place where I am now,” she said.

  “Sure.
But it’s not safe for you out there. You’re way too vulnerable without other people around. If you lived in town, I’d be right next door, and there are other neighbors nearby.”

  She couldn’t tell him that having him right on the other side of her living room wall wasn’t something she looked forward to. “I’ll be fine. And now I really do need to get ready for my patients.” Not waiting for an answer, she turned and walked into the back room, closing the door from the waiting room firmly behind her.

  A few moments later Stacy joined her in the section of the big back room they used as their in-house laboratory, where Darcy was unpacking a new supply of blood collection tubes. “Poor Ken,” Stacy said. “He’s still crazy about you. He can’t get over losing you.”

  “He never had me to lose,” Darcy said. “We only went out three times.” And she had only agreed to the third date so that she could tell him to his face that she didn’t have romantic feelings for him and didn’t believe she ever would. She had tried to let him down gently, but she had also been clear that she didn’t want to date him again.

  “Still, I feel sorry for him,” Stacy said. “He’s one of these guys who tries too hard.”

  “Then you date him.”

  “I’m married, remember?” She leaned back against the lab table. “I didn’t say I thought you ought to go out with him. Ryder is a much better guy for you.” She grinned. “How did your date go yesterday?”

  “It went...well.”

  “Uh-oh. I distinctly heard a ‘but’ in there. What happened?”

  Darcy pushed aside the half-empty box of tubes. “You can’t tell anyone, okay?”

  “Cross my heart.” She made an X across her chest with her forefinger.

  “We had a great time,” Darcy said. “It was a beautiful day and we skied up to the warming hut at the top of the hill and had lunch.”

  Stacy looked disappointed. “That’s not a ‘but.’”

  “I’m getting to the bad part.” She took a deep breath. Better to just come out with it. “On the way back down, a guy on a snowmobile tried to run us over.”

 

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