Deadly Dreams

by Mary Stone

  She followed him toward the trailhead. “I can’t believe that I’ve fallen so far that I’m actually looking forward to eating at Frank’s Chicken Hut.”

  “Hey, me too,” he said, taking the lead. “Stay close to me and watch where you step. This may be a safe trail, but you can still get in trouble. And I don’t want you falling, because with my shoulder like it is, I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle you and the dog.”

  The fat-lower-lip pout was back. Oh, this would be a joy.

  6

  Kylie’s nose had quickly started running something awful, even before they reached the trailhead. She had a tissue buried in her pocket, but what difference would that make? It was soaked. She was soaked. Rain kept pelting her face, mixing with the snot, slinking down her face and off the edge of her chin. Not to mention that her cheeks were probably bright red and her hair was now matted around her face, giving her the impression of a drowned rat. Lovely.

  The air was so damp and about ten degrees colder than it was supposed to be for this time of year. She grabbed Vader’s leash tightly and hurried into the woods, hoping that the tree cover might provide a little protection. It didn’t. She shivered, shifting her sweatshirt under her jacket a little, only to find that near her neck it was wet and ice-cold against her bare skin.

  This was her worst nightmare come true.

  Not to mention that she’d stepped in a puddle deeper than her boot was high, and now she felt mud congealing around her ankle. She needed better gear.

  Linc walked ahead of her, as he usually did on the rare occasion they went on hikes together, just because he knew the terrain better than she did, and his step was surer. He spoke, his words mostly getting drowned out by the thundering downpour around them. Something about how it’s probably safe to assume that the human scent has been washed away by the downpour, but it was better to do something than nothing, but that dogs only needed a minute amount of scent to find someone.

  Really? She wasn’t sure. It was bad enough that she was shivering like crazy, but going through all this for no reason? That made it cruel and unusual. And he’d said it himself—this was dangerous. What if someone got hurt on this useless mission?

  Then she thought of Greg. Of Ollie. Of the poor missing woman and her dog.

  She needed to get over herself, embrace the situation and be okay with being uncomfortable. No more pouting, she scolded herself. No more complaining. Just help.

  After a few minutes, Linc stopped and pulled out Beatrice Crosby’s headscarf, which Ollie had given them with hopes of the dogs catching her scent. He brought it down to Storm’s level, keeping it in the dry, and Vader eagerly nosed his way in there to have a sniff too.

  “We’ll keep them on the leashes for this,” Linc said, wiping his face with the sleeve of his jacket and staring out into the dreary woods. “Vader’s too unpredictable, and if I let Storm off, he’s likely to go berserk, wanting to be let off too. We can’t risk it.”

  Kylie nodded, knowing he was exactly right. She wanted to help, but she also knew that she and Vader were a liability.

  “Just let me know what you need me to do,” Kylie said, and wiped at her face with her hand. Sure enough, it was slimy with water and snot. She was glad she already had the ring because she doubted she looked like marriage material right now. Right now, she was a stark contrast to Linc, who only happened to look more hot and rugged and manly, the dirtier and wetter he got. Right now, he looked like a freaking cover model for Outdoors Magazine, all muscled and beautiful. It really wasn’t fair.

  They walked on, and after a few more steps, Kylie felt her jeans, wet and stiff beneath the rainproof pants, chafing her nether regions. Great. She’d get back to the hotel with a massive rash between her thighs. That would be an attractive way to initiate foreplay, asking him to rub Vaseline on her crotch.

  She wiped her face again, hardly listening to Linc as he spoke in a soothing voice. When she tuned-in, he was saying something about how pretty it was there.

  “Yes, it might be rainy, but it’s actually kind of nice and peaceful, when everything’s wet like this, don’t you think?” He looked around, and she could tell he was in his element. “Usually, this path is crawling with people. It’s nice that it’s just us.”

  She could think of many things to call this hike, but nice wasn’t one of them. She tried to concentrate on her hot fiancé instead of the rain, the beauty of nature instead of her raw fingers turning numb from the damp chill, the bracing fresh air instead of the icy water dripping down her collar…but it wasn’t happening.

  She gritted her teeth. If she’d been watching this on television, she’d admit it was lovely scenery. The path was dotted with charming stone steps every so often, and as they went up, Linc traversed the obstacle, then turned to help her over it. That was nice. He looked after her better than she could look after herself. She reminded herself for the thousandth time to use the “glass half full” outlook, which she usually applied to most things.

  “It is pretty here,” she admitted through her chattering teeth.

  He looked back at her, just as she was sure a droplet of slimy snot was escaping her nostril. “You’re just saying that.”

  “Okay. Yes. I am,” she agreed, swiping at her face again. “I mean, it would be pretty if I weren’t a part of it. I’d love a postcard of this exact view.”

  He laughed. “You’re an odd woman, Kylie Hatfield. Why a postcard when you can actually experience the real thing? Have it wrapped around you, a three-sixty-degree view?”

  “Because I can’t feel my fingertips,” she admitted. “I like my fingertips.”

  He stopped, then took both leashes and tied them to a branch. He lifted both of her hands and looked at them. It wasn’t really all that cold, probably in the fifties, but her extremities never did well in lower temperatures. The tips of her fingers were all bright red. He held her hands between his big, warm ones—how was it possible he was so warm? “Where are your gloves?”

  She could see them, nice and warm in her suitcase. “I left them at the hotel.”

  He reached into his bag and pulled out something black. As he unfolded it, she realized what it was. His own gloves. Of course. Even though it was unseasonably cold in Georgia and had probably never been so frigid here in a decade, he’d brought gloves. He was such a boy scout. He fixed them onto her hands. “Better?”

  She nodded as she looked up into his warm brown eyes, his handsome face. Her mother was right—he was a total hunk. A gem. She told herself—again—to suck it up and quit complaining. “Yes. Thank you.”

  Then he reached over, and with his bare hand, wiped the end of her nose with his finger.

  She smiled. That was real love.

  From that moment on, she vowed not to complain again. She’d just do what she always did to take the things she didn’t want to think of off her mind: Talk.

  Kylie was a champion talker. Where some people found that excessive talking irritated them—Linc included—Kylie was energized by chatter. There was nothing she liked better than shooting the shit with people. She could go on and on for hours, just talking about absolutely nothing. She decided to use it to her advantage.

  Linc lifted the leashes of the dogs up and handed one to her. Feeling better, she walked along with him. He said, “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I am. I’ve just been thinking about Greg and Starr Investigations.”

  “Oh yeah?” Linc cocked an eyebrow at her. “What about him?”

  “Oh, you know. That it’ll be a real shame if Asheville loses his business. His private investigations firm is the best one in town. He might not be fancy or high-profile, but he’s a fixture downtown.”

  Linc stepped over a fallen log, then held out his hand for her. “You don’t know he’s closing shop yet, Kylie, remember? Don’t worry until there’s something to—”

  “Well, he’s going to eventually. He’s nearing retirement age, anyway. And it just sucks, doesn’t it? I’ve finally found s
omething I love to do, for a man I love to work with, and…it’ll be just my luck if he decides to close up and leave me…” She stopped and swallowed hard, emotion burning in her face.

  No. This was not about being abandoned.

  Greg had worked hard all his life and deserved to enjoy a life of retirement.

  But still…she felt the future loss of Greg as if it was already happening.

  Linc’s eyes softened, as if he understood exactly what she was thinking.

  “There are other firms in town, right? With your success rate, I’m sure one of them would snap you up in a second, letting you finish your license requirements with them.”

  She nodded. She knew it was true. But she’d miss Greg so much.

  “I suppose.”

  From behind him, she watched his shoulders go up and down. “Well, if nothing else, it was a good run.”

  Vader stopped to sniff something, and Kylie tugged on the leash, unable to believe her ears.

  A good run?

  What did he mean by that?

  Linc hadn’t known her before she started working at Starr Investigations. If he thought she was a flake now, that was nothing compared to how directionless she’d been before she stumbled into Greg’s office, looking for some job, any job, to bide her time while deciding what to change her college major to. She’d gone through precisely seven majors.

  It was hard to believe that was just six months ago. So much had changed the moment Greg decided to take a chance on her. She’d gotten the best little doggie in the world as a pet, moved on from her seemingly endless college days, fallen in love with Linc, started actually adulting and taking responsibility for herself, and now she was engaged.

  In short, she’d grown up. And it was all because of that grumpy old man she called her boss. “Don’t be so blasé about it. This career means everything to me. You know that?”

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “Everything?”

  “Well, of course you mean even more,” she said, elbowing him. “You know I love you, but what’ll I do if I’m suddenly out of a job? Go back and finish my criminal justice degree? I only have a couple semesters left.”

  “That depends. Do you want to?”

  She wrinkled her nose. She couldn’t imagine, after all she’d seen and done since taking the job with Starr, going back to the classroom. It would be like shoving a butterfly back into its cocoon.

  “If I did, what would I do when I graduated? I’d still have the same questions I’m facing now. I don’t know. It’ll only be a year or so apprenticing until I can get my license. Should I try to find another PI to work under? Even if it’s in another town?”

  “Um, yeah. If you want. You have to decide what’s best for you.”

  “But it’s us now. Best for us. If I decided to do that, then we might have to move. And I don’t want to leave Asheville. I know you don’t, either.” She sighed, giving him a sideways glance. “And I know you’ve never been too happy about me taking on this career because I’ve had one or two brushes with danger, but—”

  “Try half a dozen.”

  “Whatever.” She waved her hand dismissively. “That copperhead did not even count. You were in more danger than I was.” She realized she was off track. “The point is, this is the only job that I really ever felt like I was doing well. You know? Like, you get excited, working with dogs. I get excited, going into work every day, not knowing exactly what I’ll be up against.”

  “Yeah. Okay. But,” he said softly, “how are you going to feel in a couple years, when there’s a little Kylie or Linc to think about? Excitement is fun, but there’s something to be said for sameness. Stability.”

  She hesitated, missing everything he said after the “little Kylie or Linc” part. They’d never seriously talked about kids before. Sure, she figured that would happen, eventually, but it always seemed so far in the future. Other than the fact that whenever they went to family gatherings he gravitated to the children before he went to talk to the adults, he hadn’t given her any indication that he even wanted to start a family right away.

  “Is having kids important to you?”

  She held her breath, knowing this was a question she should have asked before accepting his ring.

  “Well…yeah.” He chuckled. “I mean, not tomorrow. But yeah. I’d love a little girl to spoil.”

  She smiled, relieved. She could just see him coddling a little baby, and it was nearly enough to make her ovaries burst. “I’d love a little boy, just like his daddy.”

  “Great. So, how are you going to feel, flinging yourself into the unknown with them to think about? Stability’s the best thing you can give to your kids, I promise you that.”

  And with that line, they’d circled back to the original problem. He hated when she put herself in danger. No one ever said that to Linc, even though his job was dangerous too. She resented the double standard and scowled at him.

  “But I love the work.”

  “Is that the only thing you love?”

  “No,” she snapped at him, getting annoyed. “Obviously not. Except maybe, when you act like this.”

  “Like what?”

  She pointed to the gorge hundreds of feet below them. “Like your work is more important than mine. Why don’t you give up your dangerous job to watch the kids?” Her voice had been steadily rising. She put her hand to her ear to listen for his response, but he was silent, staring at her, point taken. “No? Why not? Because you love it? Well, I love my job as—”

  She stopped as Storm’s ears perked up, and the German Shepherd pulled on the leash, letting out a sharp bark.

  Linc grimaced as his leash was pulled. He reached for his shoulder and massaged it, gnashing his teeth. Had he hurt himself again?

  “Did you—”

  “Shh.” He raised his head and let Storm take the lead, walking off the path somewhat.

  She started to speak again, but he held up a finger.

  “What is it?” she said after a moment, watching the dog’s skittish behavior. Storm was rarely skittish, so when she acted this way, it was hard not to take notice. Kylie peered at Linc’s face, which was etched with concern, and suddenly, she started shivering again.

  Linc crouched beside the dog. “What is it, girl? Okay. Lead the way. Nice and slow.”

  They headed off toward a rocky outcropping as Kylie followed close behind with Vader. They passed close by cliff ledges with steep drop-offs into the gorge. The sound of raindrops gave way to rushing water—a waterfall?

  The forest of trees opened up to a large, flat area. Nearby, there was a sad looking old picnic bench. Linc held out his arm, urging them back. Kylie squinted at a sign in the distance.

  Overlook for Devil’s Pulpit.

  Oh, that just gave out the warm fuzzies.

  “Stay back,” Linc warned her. “It’s at least a five-hundred foot drop-off from here.”

  Kylie wasn’t fond of heights, so she did as she was told. She craned her neck to the sound of rushing water to see the top of a gorgeous waterfall. Linc was right. Even if it was raining, even if the place was named after a devil, it was beautiful here.

  Beautiful and…somewhat spooky. Why was it called Devil’s Pulpit? She shivered again.

  Out of the tree cover, the rain pelted her face as she watched Linc step surely to the edge of the cliff, taking it entirely too casually. As experienced as he was, Kylie still held her breath. It was slippery, and Beez had been doing this type of work for thirty years, and now she was missing.

  Linc took something out of his pack. A bit of blue ribbon to mark the area, which she knew was something he did to track any spots Storm found of interest. He turned around and crouched in the mud, near a tree. He’d found something of interest there, but Kylie squinted, trying to make it out.

  She couldn’t see anything. “What?”

  “Kibble,” he said, gathering it, lifting it up and giving it a long sniff. “Surprised it hasn’t washed away, but it’s under this pine. The
re’s a possibility that Beez might have stopped here with her dog to rest.”

  “Couldn’t it belong to another dog?” Kylie asked.

  Linc lifted a shoulder. “Another SAR dog, yes, but other dogs aren’t permitted on this trail. Too dangerous.”

  “Oh.” Kylie looked around, and it suddenly occurred to her that it wasn’t the cold that had her shivering. It was her spidey sense. Vader looked up at her curiously. He could feel it too.

  While Linc was crouched with his back to her, Kylie took a step toward the edge of the cliff. Then another, her instincts whispering at her to look.

  Soon, she was right at the edge of the smooth, slippery rock, the traction on her boots the only thing keeping her from a five-hundred-foot fall. But she couldn’t help it. It was like something had pulled her there.

  A gust of wind picked up, knocking her off-balance, and she immediately went to her hands and knees to keep from falling.

  “Hey!” Linc called behind her, but her body was already on high alert, so she didn’t even startle. “Get back!”

  But she couldn’t. She just couldn’t turn back now.

  Lowering herself to her belly, she snake-crawled to the edge again, her hands curled around the rain-slicked rocks.

  All the while, she kept hearing Ollie’s voice as he’d described the last thing he’d seen his wife wearing. A red jacket.

  The hair raised on the back of her neck as she focused her vision, forcing her eyes to examine each and every crevasse far below, one by one.

  When she caught sight of it, the smallest of flashes, her heart began to beat in double-time.

  “Linc!” Her voice cracked from a mixture of excitement and dread and sorrow. “Linc, I see it! There’s something red down there!”

  7

  Linc massaged the pain from his shoulder as he peered over the edge of the gorge for the hundredth time that day.

  Stupid really. Storm had yanked the leash just once, but that was all it needed. He’d felt the muscles in his shoulder tearing, as if whatever healing they’d been doing in the past few weeks had been undone in the space of a couple seconds.