Smoky Mountain Investigation (21 page)

“Why do you need a reason? Just call her up for a date.”

“It’s not like that. We’re only friends. I’m just trying to help her out.”

What started off as a chuckle from Steven quickly bumped up to a laugh. “Nick, who are you trying to fool? You love that girl, you always have.”

“And what do you know about love, little brother? You have a new girl every week.”

“I know enough to recognize that I’ve never felt the same way about any woman as you feel about Kylie. It is evident by the way you talk about her. The look in your eye, the tone of your voice.”

Nick rocked back in his chair. He hadn’t expected this. “I’m concerned about her as a friend, that’s all.”

“You love her, man. Ten years and it’s still there.”

This from a man who didn’t know how to focus while riding a bike, let alone focus on a long-term relationship. “And when did you take up counseling for a hobby?”

“It doesn’t take a PhD to figure you out.”

Nick opened his mouth. Shut it again. Frowned. “We’re just friends. Period. We’ve both changed and moved on in our lives.”

“Uh, maybe you’ve changed, but moving on, I don’t buy it.”

Nick just shook his head.

“Look at you. You haven’t had a serious relationship since you and Kylie broke up,” Steven reminded him. “And why do you think Kylie’s still single? She’s waiting for you, man. Waiting for her soldier in shining armor to come back.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “I doubt that’s true. I think that’s your brain injury talking.”

“Nope. Scan came back negative.” Amusement underscored his brother’s words. “No signs of a concussion.” He tapped the side of his head.

Or a brain.
Nick smiled inside.

“You love her?”

Nick glanced at his brother, a knowing look in his eye. “Enough questions, okay? Kylie and I are friends.”

“Friends now, but who knows about the future? Stick around and see if anything transpires. Besides, I wouldn’t mind having a brother around.”

“Sorry, Asheville isn’t the place for me.”

“Sure it is. We can use you around here. You can run for police commissioner or be an investigator. You’re finding out the P.D. is undertrained in that area.”

Nick wagged his head. “I’m not cut out for that.”

“What are you cut out for, Nick? Running from the past?”

His chest stung with that comment. But Nick ignored it and leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. “Even trying to acquire public information about Pruitt is difficult. I might have to enlist help from some buddies of mine.”

“Smooth, brother.” Steven gestured with his glass. “The way you just switched subjects there. But I’ll let you be for now.”

“Thank you.” Nick grinned.

“So what have you found on Pruitt so far?”

“Let’s see.” Nick linked his hands behind his head. “Besides spending four years in the pen, he’s been in and out of rehab for years. At the time of his death he had an active bench warrant out for two DUIs and over the years he hasn’t held a job longer than seven months.”

“Model citizen.” Steven moaned a little as he shifted in his chair.

“And somehow he’s been deemed smart enough to stay hidden from law enforcement while committing gruesome murders.” Nick sat up. “How about an ice pack?”

“I was going to wait for Nadine, but if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not a problem.” Nick went to the refrigerator and filled a ziplock bag with ice. “The more I find out about Pruitt, the more I’m sure he died by the hand of the predator and the killer is still out there.”

“So how are you going to prove it?”

“Not sure. There hasn’t been a mumble from the killer since Pruitt’s overdose. And Pruitt is the only suspect in the case. He had the right evidence in his possession, planted or not, and was living in Asheville when the two recent murders occurred. And if Detective Dave is correct, Pruitt was also at Camp Golden Rock with us. Conrad’s case is now being reopened with Pruitt as the main suspect.”

Nick draped a dish towel around the bag of ice and handed it to Steven.

“Are you sure Pruitt went to your senior camp? I didn’t think he even graduated high school.” Steven plopped the ice bag on his elevated knee, giving Nick a puzzled glance. “If I remember right, he’d been expelled earlier in the year. Fireworks in one of the toilets in the boys’ bathroom or something like that. It was big news at the time.”

Vaguely Nick recalled the story. Then it hit him. “Is my yearbook around here somewhere?”

“Mom left a couple of your boxes. They’re in the basement.”

Nick found the cardboard box right away. His mom had been good at labeling everything. He brushed off the top and started sifting through old jerseys, varsity letters, report cards, even a manila folder of pictures he didn’t bother opening. More photos of him and Kylie. Memories he didn’t need roused at the moment.

Four stacked yearbooks filled the bottom of the box. He pulled out the one from his senior year. Turning to the index, he quickly scanned the page, stopping at
senior class photo.
He flipped to page eighty-three. On the top half of the page, a black-and-white picture featured over a hundred and fifty senior students huddled together for a senior class shot. It had been taken the first day of the second semester.

Nick skimmed over the faces, pausing on Kylie. Her smile lit up the page. He took a deep breath and moved along, stopping again when he came to Conrad. A full-toothed grin creased his face. He looked so happy. So much alive. Nick closed his eyes and pictured Conrad sprawled across the deck, lying in blood, a slit across his neck.

A wave of nausea rolled over him. He pulled in a steady breath and moved along, down the rows of smiling faces. When he got to the last picture, he shook his head in relief. Pruitt wasn’t among them.

Now more than ever he believed that Pruitt wasn’t the stalker or the killer.

* * *

“Hey. Nice flowers.”

The deep baritone voice coming from directly behind her blasted through Kylie’s nervous system like a bullet. Gripping the spade she’d been digging with, she jumped up and whirled around to find Nick with his hands in his pockets and glaring at her.

“Nick, I asked you to not to sneak up on me like that.”

“Sorry. I thought you would have heard me walking up the driveway.” He smiled at her, his tone pleasant and not at all threatening. Well, except for the fact that he was dangerously attractive. A hazard to her well-being. Especially since it had taken the past week to finally get him out of her head.

She dropped the spade and pulled earbuds from her ears, leaving them to dangle at her neck.

He lifted a dark brow at her. “That explains why you didn’t hear me. I purposely tried to put a little punch in my step.”

“I appreciate that. But the music drowns out the distant noise.” And helped keep her thoughts clear and not focused on one certain old boyfriend.

“That could cost you.”

The affectionate scolding in his eyes brought a lump to her throat. She shrugged. “You’re right. But on a positive note, my friend Julie has been staying with me every night after she gets off work.”

“That’s better than nothing.” A tentative smile again.

“And everything has been quiet. No phone calls. No hint of a perpetrator.”

He shifted his weight and didn’t respond. But he had that
not yet
look in his eyes.

She swallowed. Hopefully, Dave wasn’t right about Nick. Immediately she reined that thought in. The only danger Nick posed was to her heart. Which at the moment hammered double time in her chest.

She looked past him and down the driveway. “How’d you get here?”

“Steven’s motorcycle. I bit dust the whole way. No way was I tackling that dirt road.”

She wanted to laugh. But instead she said, “I wish you had called before you came.”

“Why? So you could arrange not to be here?”

Her gaze snapped back to his and those dark eyes seemed to stare right into her heart. He knew what she was thinking. Of course he did.

“I’ve left you several voice mails.”

She shrugged. “I had a lot of work to catch up on. I haven’t had a chance to call you back. I assumed if it was urgent you would have said so in your message.” Forcing her gaze from his, she brushed potting soil from her hands, feigning nonchalance. “So how are you coming with the investigation on Pruitt?”

Hopefully, Nick would get the hint that she didn’t want to explain why she’d been avoiding his calls.

“I’ve learned a few things.”

She pushed hair from her face. “Well, before you drop any bombshells on me, would you like something to drink?”

Eyebrows lifted, he nodded. “Actually, I would. It’s quite a hike up that hill from the highway. I wouldn’t mind something cold.”

“Okay.” She gestured to the white wooden rocking chairs on the porch. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be back in a moment.”

She headed into the house and Nick trailed in behind her. She’d expected him to wait on the porch; apparently he hadn’t taken the hint.

Leaving him in the family room, she strode into the kitchen. She fetched two glasses from the cabinet and filled them with iced tea.

“The view is really nice, just like I remember.” His voice carried in from the other room.

Kylie added three teaspoons of sugar to one glass. The way Nick liked his. She gave a quick stir and then walked into the family room. Nick’s back was to her. He was staring out the large picture window at the mountain range in the distance.

“It is beautiful. That’s why I love it here.”

He turned around and crossed his arms, his sturdy frame draped against the window ledge. “And why you love Asheville?”

She gave a slight shrug. “Partly. I also love the town. The people. It’s home.”

“What about the memories?” He spoke low, bitterness lacing his tone.

Kylie knew what he was getting at. She breathed a prayer of thanks that the memories that haunted him no longer held her hostage. Sadness would always remain in her heart, along with regret, but Nick had it so much worse than that.
Lord, help him,
she added.

She took a quick breath. “Memories don’t ever abandon me. No matter where I go, they’re always there.”

“Ah. But they fade. They become minimized in the back of one’s mind. Lost in the distraction of new chaos.” He pushed away from the wall and sauntered toward her, his gaze never leaving hers.

She blinked. “Are the pleasant memories lost along with the painful ones?”

He paused, drew a finger to his lip. “I hadn’t considered that, but I guess the answer would be yes. A casualty that can’t be helped.”

And she was his casualty. Kylie’s throat nearly closed up with emotion. She swallowed it back. “For me the pleasant memories outweigh the bad. I can still enjoy life in Asheville in spite of my mistakes, my losses.”

He closed the space between them, and she handed him his tea.

Nick lifted his glass in a toast. “Here’s to you, Kylie. The strongest woman I know. You make the best of life’s disappointments. See the good in people. What I feel when I look around Asheville is regret and guilt.”

She wanted to shake him, make him understand. He wasn’t responsible for Conrad’s death. She opened her mouth to remind him of that, but he picked up the conversation again.

“My one concern is that when I leave Asheville again, I’ll have an even greater regret.”

“Greater regret?” Kylie echoed, hoping it had something to do with her.

“Yes.” He nodded and as she waited for him to expound on his comment, he lifted his glass and took a long drink.

She stared at him for several nail-biting moments, watching his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. Finally he lowered his near-empty glass, licked his lips. “That was refreshing. Thank you.”

“And you were saying?”

For the next few seconds he didn’t speak, and when he did, his brow furrowed and his lips tensed a bit. “Kylie, I don’t want anything to happen to you. I know you want this stalker business behind you, but your being out here by yourself is a concern to me. A friend coming at night doesn’t protect you enough. I want you safe.”

Okay. Not the revelation she’d hoped for. But the shadow in his eyes told her there was more to this story.

“This is about Todd Pruitt?”

“It’s about you being safe. I’m not sure where Pruitt fits into the scheme, but he wasn’t the mastermind. If he was involved, it was with the recent victims. He didn’t attend the senior camp with us. An ex–Delta Force buddy of mine is a private detective and got ahold of his criminal records. It seems Pruitt was in juvenile detention at the time of the senior camping trip.”

“So he wasn’t there when Conrad was killed?”

“No.”

“But Dave said he remembered—”

“Dave was wrong.”

“I don’t understand. Dave seemed so sure.” Kylie’s legs suddenly felt weak. She carried her drink to the closest armchair and sank into it.

“I don’t think Dave tried to lead us astray. It was probably hopeful thinking on his part. Many details of that trip remain vague in my mind.”

Hers also. She swallowed, holding on to a thread of hope and grasping at straws at the same time. “Maybe Conrad’s murder isn’t connected to the others. Maybe Pruitt was a copycat just trying to take credit. Your theory early on.”

Nick shook his head. “That was before I read the recent autopsy reports and compared them to Conrad’s. The cause of death listed for all three victims was strangulation. They all died before their necks were slit.” Then he added, “The blade used in each instance was believed to be a small scalpel. And behind the right ear of each man was a tiny laceration in the shape of an X. It was described like a scratch in Conrad’s report, and has been consistent with the other two victims.”

The last shred of hope that her stalker was dead and gone fizzled and disappeared.

Kylie set down her drink and caved against the cushions. “Are we back to square one?”

Nick hesitated, then nodded. “Pretty much.”

“I don’t know how the police haven’t figured this out. How could they have closed the case so quickly?”

“My guess is that the local detectives were overwhelmed. Pruitt came along, the evidence was there. They stopped looking for clues. Now they’re reopening Conrad’s case, with Pruitt as the main suspect.”