Chapter Eleven

Koda drove slowly down one of the back roads of town, his SUV rocking over the deep grooves in the packed gravel.

Abigail was talking through the radio, something about an accident up the freeway. But for once, Koda wasn’t paying attention. And it wasn’t just because this particular call was out of his jurisdiction, either. He was thinking about something else. Someone he couldn’t quite shake, and was finding he didn’t really want to.

It was official. Maggie Sullivan had worked her way under his skin. Now he just had to figure out what he was going to do about it.

Not even a week ago, he’d been annoyed at her nerve, showing up here and nosing around like she owned the place.

But last night, not only had he agreed to keep her involved in the investigation, he’d also had the urge to plant a kiss on those impossibly pink lips. What the hell? Men thought with their junk and Koda was no exception. But he’d always prided himself on being smarter than his little brother and most of the guys in town, who would sleep with just about anyone who passed by. Just because a girl was attractive didn’t mean he was going to go screwing her brains out. At least not before the one-week mark.

But Maggie… Maggie was different. Tough and obstinate, yet vulnerable in a way that made him want to walk closer on an evening stroll, just so she might feel safe. Or make her laugh only to see that mouth relax into an easy smile. She was maybe one of the most pensive people he’d ever met, but there was a definite spark behind her eyes. A spark that had probably always been there, but had no doubt grown dimmer over the last year.

“Four Victor Ten.”

Abigail again. She sounded urgent, slightly off-key, which was rare for her. And this time she was talking to him.

“Go ahead.”

“We have a cold home invasion and assault at sixty four South Glen, apartment B.”

Candi. Koda swallowed the suddenly sour taste in his mouth and had to force himself to reply. “Injuries?”

There was a moment’s hesitation at the other end of the radio. Again, rare. “Affirm. Female caller reports that she’s bleeding heavily from the head. Medical en route.”

The ambulance would be coming from Splendor Pass, the town directly South of Wolfe Creek, which had the nearest hospital. Koda glanced at the clock on the dash. 8:14 a.m. It usually took at least twenty minutes and that was with decent weather. With the drizzle and light fog rolling in, it could be longer.

“Copy. En route. Suspect on scene?”

“Negative, as far as she knows. Sending backup.”

That might take just as long as medical.

He gunned the engine, kicking up dense chunks of mud and gravel behind the SUV. Whatever bleeding there was, it would be up to him to stop it, or at least slow it down until the ambulance got there.

God, let her be okay.

Koda looked at the clock again.

Hang on, Candi.

Blood everywhere.

Koda stepped inside with his GLOCK drawn, avoiding a shattered lamp on the floor. He scanned the dim room. The curtains were still closed and the only light was coming from the bedroom down the hall.

“Candi?”

Bloody fingerprints on the walls, streaks on the throw rug. Puddles and specks on the hardwood floor that he tried to step around.

The neighbor’s dog barked relentlessly in the next apartment, setting his hair on end.

“Candi?”

Someone moaned from down the hall.

Koda turned the corner, his gut coiled, his breathing shallow.

And there she was. Lying in a heap next to the wall, the phone still in her hand. Her hair was matted in bloody clumps next to her face, which was a swollen, purple mass. Her normally wide eyes were no more than slits beneath her brows.

“Shit.”

Her head flopped to the side.

“I’m here, baby,” he said, dropping to one knee. “I’m here.”

She moaned again. There was a nasty gash on her forehead, already starting to clot. Most of the blood had probably come from her nose, which looked broken.

“Whoever did this,” he said, “are they still here?”

“Don’t…think so.”

Koda tensed and beads of sweat trickled down his temples. Never in his life had he wanted to kill someone more than at that very moment. Every muscle in his body strained against his skin. His clothes were tight and hot, his shoulders stretching the fabric of his uniform shirt until he thought it might rip.

Carefully holstering the gun, he took off his jacket and covered her with it. She was starting to shake. Not wanting to move her, but knowing he should at least elevate her legs, he got up to get a pillow from the bed.

After he grabbed two, something small fell from the folds of the fabric and landed at his feet. Koda leaned down to pick it up. A lighter. With embossing. Without thinking, he stuck it in his pocket and turned back to Candi.

He lifted her feet as gently as he could and slid the pillows underneath.

“The ambulance is on its way. They’ll be here any minute.”

One eye tried to open, tried to look up at him, and he had to clench his teeth to avoid biting his tongue. He picked up her hand and cradled it to his chest.

“You should see the other guy,” she said.

He forced a smile. “That’s Zane’s line.”

And then the wail of a siren. Faint at first, but growing louder, stronger by the second.

Maggie sat in the parlor with a fire popping merrily off to the side. She’d just gotten off the phone with her mother who had asked for the one-millionth time when she was going to give up already and come home.

“Not until my money runs out, Mom. I told you.”

There’d been an exasperated sigh on the other end of the line. Maggie knew better than to go over the reasons again. She’d done that before, and to no avail. She didn’t expect anyone to understand, least of all her hardheaded, overly rational mother. This was craziness. She knew that. But she also knew that for the first time since arriving in Wolfe Creek, she might be a little closer to some answers. And that was good enough for now.

She’d finally hung up after telling Mary Sullivan that she loved her and promising again to be careful.

Maggie sat now, sipping a cup of tea and listening to the elderly woman across from her.

“This Inn is just lovely, isn’t it?” the woman said, shaking her head of cottony curls.

“It is,” Maggie agreed.

“So much to absorb.” She grinned, the lines in her face exploding into dozens, upon dozens of crinkles. “I’m a retired history teacher. I can’t get enough of this kind of thing.”

Maggie smiled.

“Your room is just down the hall from ours, isn’t it?” The woman, whose name was Vera, leaned forward and gazed at Maggie. She couldn’t have been a day younger than eighty, but her sharp gray eyes missed nothing.

“It is. I think we share a bathroom.”

“Yes, we do. I heard someone walking down the hall early this morning. I suppose that was you.”

“I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

Vera shook her head, her delicate earrings winking in the firelight. “Oh, no. I was having trouble sleeping.” She leaned closer and Maggie could now see a curious silver ring around her irises. It gave them the appearance of glowing in the dimly lit room. “I was hearing things,” she said quietly. “Things outside the hotel.”

“What kinds of things?”

“Twigs breaking, scratching…”

Maggie shifted, uneasy.

“I hear things most people can’t.” Vera sat back, her orange lips tilting slightly. “I can almost feel them, if that makes sense.”

“Ahh,” Maggie said, and for the first time wondered if the kindly woman across from her wasn’t playing with a full deck.

“Oh, I know it sounds strange. Most people think I’m crazy. That’s okay.”

“I don’t…I didn’t…”

“It’s all right. Most of the time I keep my mouth shut. My husband hates it when I tell people like this, and mostly I don’t. Not anymore. But you…” Her eyes narrowed. “I think you might feel things, too.”

Maggie didn’t know what to say. Feel things? What things? She looked at Vera, drawn in by her strange eyes.

“Let me ask you this,” the other woman said. “Did you see anything last night?”

“I’m sorry?”

“When you were looking out the window?”

A tingle crept up Maggie’s neck. How in the world could she know about that?

“I told you,” Vera said. “I feel things.”

Apparently she can read minds, too. Maggie laughed nervously.

“Did you? See anything?” Vera asked again.

“I did.” The room seemed chillier, even with the crackling fire. “I saw some sort of animal by the fence. But it was too dark to make out what it was. Did you see it, too?”

“I didn’t have to see it. I knew it was there. That’s what was keeping me awake.”

Vera’s response was oddly casual. Weird. This was the kind of conversation someone should be having in a whacked-out dream after a spicy meal. Not in broad daylight with a retired history teacher.

“Ready, darling?”

Maggie looked up to see an older gentleman crossing the room toward them.

“Bud, come meet Maggie Sullivan. We’ve been having a nice chat.”

Bud took her hand and gave a formal bow. “Miss Sullivan, charmed.”

She liked these two. Boring, they were not. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I hope my wife hasn’t been keeping you hostage. She does like to talk about these old places.”

Vera shot Maggie a look. Clearly, she wanted to keep this particular conversation between the girls.

“Oh, no. I’ve been enjoying it.”

He helped his wife to her feet. “We really should get going, my love.”

“Yes, we should.” Vera smiled down at Maggie. “We’re on our way to California to visit our son and his family. We have a new grandbaby as of last month.”

“Congratulations. I hope you have a nice trip. It was wonderful meeting you both.”

“Likewise, dear.”

With Bud safely out of earshot, Vera bent close. “You be careful, you hear? Especially at night.”

Before Maggie could respond, she had already gone, leaving a perfume scented trail in her wake.