Cold Highway: Ellie Kline Series: Book Four

by Stone, Mary

  “Not…well, sort of.”

  Ellie tensed, shaking her head in disgust. “You know what? That’s great if you’ve moved on. I don’t even care about that. But what I do care about is you’ve got it in your head that I’ve fabricated this entire thing as some sort of twisted bid to win you back. We’re done, our relationship is through, I get it. But you’re wrong about Paul Strong.”

  “Ellie, enough.” His words came out through clenched teeth, but Ellie wasn’t finished.

  “No, it’s not enough. It’s not enough that I spent some of the best years of my life with you and still support you after you dumped me without even asking how I felt. You just made that decision, and I’m still trying to save you from taking the fall for whoever is scamming you. Now, I’m done, Nick. You figure this thing out for yourself. If you don’t want my help, that’s fine. Good luck. For what it’s worth, I hope I’m wrong.”

  “Ellie, you don’t need to save everyone. I—”

  She disconnected the call. After everything they’d been through, he still believed she would make up a story about his business partner. To do what, win him back? That would be hilarious if it wasn’t so offensive. And she guessed he thought she had a savior complex now.

  Shaking her head, she flicked the cold air vent so it blew full force on her face. Catching sight of her eyes in the rearview mirror, she was startled at the rage boiling just beneath the surface. There were no tears, and no pangs of guilt. Nick had made his choice, and he’d decided that Ellie was either obsessively suspicious or nothing more than a man-obsessed-female who would do anything to win him back. It was a side of him she’d never seen.

  She didn’t like it. She just hoped by some miracle Nick was right.

  22

  Nick was reeling when the line went dead in his ear, Ellie’s cool but angry words echoing in his head.

  For what it’s worth, I hope I’m wrong.

  Something about her tone had made his stomach feel as if he’d swallowed a large rock. She’d been adamant, unwilling to let her paranoid delusion go.

  His home office was quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling, meticulously managed building Nick had been working in lately. Here, if he didn’t clean up after himself, the mess stayed where he left it, and there was no one to distract himself from the torrent of emotions he grappled with that Ellie’s rage had left in its wake.

  Gaze drifting to the office supplies arranged on his desk, he rehashed the conversation in his head. Ellie was convinced there was something amiss with Paul Strong and their joint business venture, but the “proof” she’d sent him was no proof at all. Whatever was eating away at her had spilled over into her real life. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he was concerned for her.

  Then why do her accusations bother me?

  Nick pushed his rolling chair away from the desk, standing up so he could pace. Was there any weight to her claims? And if she was right, what was he going to do about it?

  He cursed, needing to get away from his desk for a while. He couldn’t concentrate. Catching his reflection in the hall mirror, he realized just how upset he was as he stormed out of the office. Ellie was way off base, and the fact that he was even considering that her wild accusations could be real didn’t bode well for him. Instead of listening to her, he’d sparred with her.

  If he was honest with himself, he’d enjoyed the jabs he’d managed to get in. But then Ellie’s insistence that Nick was involved in some sort of scheme had taken all the fun out of their arguments. He was left confused, with more than a little guilt hanging over him. This wasn’t who he was, and he’d never treated Ellie like that before.

  He dropped down onto the couch, kicking his shoes off and propping his feet on the coffee table. Bare walls glared back at him, the empty spots where framed artwork and photos had hung obvious. He had a painter scheduled to paint the entire place.

  After the scene she’d made at Sunday dinner, Nick had returned home and stripped every reminder of Ellie from his apartment, right down to the artwork he’d bought at a showing they’d attended together. The task had taken him all night, and he’d fallen into bed completely exhausted. He’d woken up without the constant reminder of the woman he once thought he’d grow old with, but the relief he’d expected never materialized.

  Ellie wasn’t the only one with a broken heart.

  He’d lied to her about having a date, and he wasn’t quite sure why. Part of him wanted it to be true. The sooner he moved on, the sooner he could forget the suspicion that had been in her eyes when she’d shown up at his lakeside cabin to check on Valerie.

  The memory tormented him. It was in that moment that he’d known they weren’t meant to be together. That instant had changed the course of his life forever.

  Nick didn’t blame Ellie for being paranoid. After everything she’d seen—first as a kidnap victim, and later a patrol officer, then as detective—it was a wonder she could find a reason to smile at all. There was so much ugliness in the world, and she was determined to destroy it. But with every case she solved, Nick saw her bury a piece of herself. As long as she worked for Charleston PD, that wasn’t going to change, and Nick wasn’t willing to live his life that way.

  Pulling his cell from his pocket, he dialed Paul Strong’s number. When the familiar voicemail prompt played, he left a message for his business partner. “Paul, it’s Nick. I spoke to the realtor on the spa property, and I was looking at another property, but I wanted to get your take on it. I’ll be in the office for the rest of the day.”

  The phone rang before he set it down, the caller ID showing “private number” as it always did when Paul called. “Hello?”

  “It’s Paul. I received your message. The realtor called me too. Apparently, they have the road blocked for water main repairs on the way to the Wellness Club, which is unfortunate. Perhaps while we are waiting for that to be cleared up, we can look at your new interest. Are you able to send a link to my email on this property?”

  Nick’s suspicions were now awake, despite his insistence that Ellie was out of her mind. Paul always asked for links and sent links in return. Nick needed to convince him to have a face-to-face meeting, if only to prove to himself that Ellie was wrong.

  “Actually, there is no listing yet. I took a drive during lunch and happened upon the property just as the agent was setting up her for sale sign. I convinced her to hold off on listing it until I spoke with you.”

  That wasn’t entirely true. He’d found the property on a website, but it was billed as a future listing.

  “I like the way you’re taking charge. What was it about this property that caught your eye?”

  Nick could barely suppress his glee at the compliment and desperately hoped this was the real Paul Strong, a man of greatness. “It’s more secluded than our other properties, with quite a bit of winding road to travel down before you finally break through the trees. But once you’re there, the view is breathtaking. A private lake surrounded by lush forest and no neighbors for miles.”

  Paul hummed his interest. “Intriguing. How many acres?”

  “Only nine acres, but there are so many trees you can’t see or hear the neighbors. What I was thinking was a tiny house colony or something similar. There is nothing on this property. There’s a subset of the population obsessed with living off the grid. They couldn’t rough it if they knew what true off-the-grid living was like. So, we provide them with a curated experience that meets their needs and gives them the satisfaction of a lower carbon footprint and simpler life.”

  “All right, you’ve captured my interest. Email me the address, and I’ll swing by to take a look.”

  “I can do that, but I’d prefer to meet you there and show you what I have in mind.”

  Paul was silent for a long moment. “All right. What if we meet tomorrow, and you can show me the place?”

  Nick relaxed back into the couch cushions, letting out a breath. Ellie had been wrong. “Wonderful. Where would you like to meet? At yo
ur office?”

  “I have a couple of outside meetings tomorrow.” He cleared his throat and papers fluttered on his end. “In fact, I’m not sure when the last meeting will end. Can I send you a text when I have a better idea of what time I’ll be available?”

  “Of course.”

  “Excellent. Thank you for doing the legwork on this one. If it’s as good as you say it is, we might pay cash on the spot. Be sure to bring the proper documentation for a purchase. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Have a great day, Paul.”

  Nick grinned as he pressed the button to end the call. The conversation with Paul had dispelled the dread caused by Ellie’s paranoid ramblings. He thought about calling Ellie back and sharing his planned face to face with Paul the next day but dismissed the idea almost as quickly. She would just find a way to try to convince him Paul had nefarious intentions. He rolled his eyes, reclining on the sofa before turning on the flat screen television mounted on the wall.

  Ellie was just trying to find a way to insert herself back into his life, and if he humored her with another call, he would only make it worse. He decided then and there that he would keep his distance from Ellie until she’d had time to heal. Until they’d both had time to heal. Maybe forever.

  His life was on another course, headed for success. He didn’t have time for jealous ex-girlfriends.

  Ellie was going to have to find a way to deal with her paranoia on her own.

  23

  It was almost two in the afternoon when Nick’s phone vibrated in his pocket. “Finally.”

  He’d been waiting all day and doubt had started to creep in again. So much so that he’d determined not to go through with the final transaction for the spa property until he’d met with Paul, though the funds sat at the ready. Shaking his head at the foolishness of letting Ellie’s paranoia get to him, he opened the text from Paul.

  Meeting just ending. Sorry for the delay. I’m the last to leave and I’ve discovered I have a flat. Is there any way you can pick me up and I’ll deal with the car later?

  Nick didn’t hesitate. Of course. Text me the address.

  Paul sent it, and Nick used his thumb to select the address on Pinefield Drive, opening the navigation app to check the estimated time of arrival. The address was right off Interstate 526 near the Cooper River. Without rush hour traffic to slow him down, he wouldn’t be more than twenty minutes getting there.

  I’ll be there in about thirty minutes, he responded, giving himself a bit of a buffer, just in case.

  Looking forward to it. Gate code is 0413.

  Got it!

  He closed the phone and put it back in his pocket, ran a brush through his hair, and packed up his briefcase before leaving the house. Business partners or not, this was their first in person meeting, and Nick wanted to make a great first impression.

  He thought about texting Ellie as he was getting into his Porsche, ultimately deciding against it. She’d been wrong about Paul. That didn’t mean rubbing it in her face was the right thing to do.

  Glaring at his reflection in the rearview, he put the car in gear and headed north on Interstate 26. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to release nervous energy, he went over what he planned to say about the property he’d scoped out. The nine-acre property he’d found was a gem, and you had to spend money to make money, and he was determined to do well, perhaps better than his father and grandfather before him.

  By the time he turned onto Pinefield Drive he was feeling confident about his pitch. The new property was everything they looked for in a place. Large, somewhat secluded without being too far out of the way, and abandoned. If Paul didn’t choose to invest, there was always the possibility of Nick taking it on himself. No matter what happened, Nick was finally meeting Paul face to face, which would put any doubts Ellie had managed to plant to rest.

  The keypad on the gate was losing its casing. Looking around, the entrance had the look of an abandoned property, the gate dull and rusted in places and the shrubbery overgrown.

  Nick frowned. Perhaps this property was another that was in the process of being renovated. But then why have a meeting here? Shaking his head, he guessed it didn’t matter. Paul had a flat tire and was waiting on him.

  He typed the passcode in twice before the gate finally opened. Driving through the narrow opening and down the paved private drive, he couldn’t help cataloging what needed to be fixed in case Paul had taken over construction on this place too.

  The large stucco building wasn’t in much better shape than the entrance had been. The parking lot off to the side held one vehicle, so Nick parked beside it. He got out to go around to the driver’s side of the car, to check out the tire, and noticed the building’s front door standing open.

  Concerned now for Paul, he quickly stepped inside, his footsteps echoing through the empty space. Without furniture, the spacious front office was cavernous. His voice echoed as he called out. “Hello? Paul?”

  But there was no answer.

  Nick checked the address on his phone, but the gate code had worked, so he knew he was in the right place. He was right on time, exactly thirty minutes since he’d responded to Paul Strong’s text. Where was he?

  He had his finger on the telephone icon, wondering if he was feeling irritated by Paul Strong’s busy schedule or Ellie’s dire warnings. As he considered the possibilities, white-hot pain exploded in his head. Knees buckling, his phone flew out of his hand and skidded across the tile. Hitting the floor on his hands and knees, Nick tried to get back up, unsure of what had happened.

  Large hands grabbed the collar of his shirt and hauled him to his feet. His stomach roiled as a large man with hair shaved close to his skull spun him around until Nick was facing his assailant. Balling his fists tight, Nick punched the guy hard in the face, following the initial blow with an immediate left hook. He’d been on the boxing team in high school but had rarely used his skills outside of the ring.

  The large man only flinched, blinking in surprise before he laughed. “Nice try, Nick. But I’m only supposed to stun you, not get in a boxing match.”

  Only supposed to…

  Nick only had a moment of shock at the stranger calling him by name before he was flung across the room. His body connected with the sheetrock so hard his head snapped back, slamming his skull into the wall and sending a new set of stars swimming in front of his eyes. By the time he hit the floor, his limbs felt limp, and he was struggling to stay awake.

  Blinking to clear his vision, he recoiled when a second person appeared through the front door—a woman. The edges of his sight were going dark, and he knew he was losing the battle. If Ellie was here, she’d know what to do.

  Ellie.

  Even as he thought her name, he desperately wished he’d heeded her warning. The attack had come out of nowhere, and nowadays Nick used his brain to win battles, not his fists.

  “Who are you?” Nick tried to see the second person’s face, but the light streaming in was blinding. Pain shot through his head. His eyes watered in response to the painful stimuli, forcing him to turn his head down to end the agony.

  “Paul,” said the woman’s voice.

  Dread closed its hand around his throat. “You’re not Paul Strong,” he managed to say as he braced his palms on the floor, preparing to stand regardless of the pain in his head.

  “Stay down, understand?” the brut said.

  “Screw you.” He spat out the blood pooling in his mouth, glaring at the man as he squatted down in front of him.

  “Suit yourself.”

  “Don’t hurt him too much!” barked the woman, who had stepped closer. A leggy brunette, it was almost comical the way the large man looked up to her like she was a queen. “He’s too useful to risk losing.”

  “If you’d bought extra batteries, I wouldn’t have had to use my fists at all.” He grabbed Nick by the collar and heaved him up. “Do you want him conscious, mistress?”

  “Hmm. It’s best not, as long as you�
�re careful.”

  Nick tried to get his balance with the room spinning, and follow the conversation that made no sense, but he knew he was in trouble.

  Ellie was right.

  The brut hit him with a hard right and his head bounced back against the wall again.

  The room slowly faded to darkness.

  24

  Though it was late afternoon, Ellie balanced a large box of donuts in one hand as she used her ID to open the side door to Charleston PD. There were two dozen—more than enough to make sure every detective got one.

  Jillian had teased her about the peace offering, but she was tired of the animosity between her and the other detectives. She’d ignored it for a while, but now that she was working with Agent Lockwood, things were more tense between her and some of the others. Detective Decker was by far the worst. She’d tried winning him over by being herself, but today, she was trying a different approach. Besides, who didn’t need a mid-week pick-me-up? And everyone liked donuts.

  Her phone rang as she was getting off the elevator. Using her hip to open the door to the Violent Crimes Unit office, she handed the donuts off to Clay as she fished the phone from her pocket. “This is Detective Kline.”

  “Eleanor, it’s your mother.”

  Her stomach dropped. Her mother knew if she called her during work hours it set off alarms, so her father’s recent heart transplant was the first thing that popped into her head. “Is Dad all right?”

  “What? Yes, Dad’s fine. I’m calling about Nick.” Her voice echoed through the speaker as she used the tone she always had when she wanted to command attention but was too much of a Southern belle to demand it.

  Ellie scowled, lowering her voice and hoping her mother would take the hint. She didn’t need her unsuccessful love life to become the object of gossip at work. “Mom, I’m at work. Can this wait until—”