Honor (22 page)

Kenzie had called but she hadn’t come over.

During the day, she was at the hospital a lot, and she was needed there. Christine was making real progress. Linc felt guilty for not being able to do more.

The evenings were another story. For the last week, Kenzie had headed back to the shooting range and disappeared behind its high locked gate. To see her, he would have to be let in, get the once-over from Norm—and she and that dog were now best buds.

Worse, she hadn’t invited him there. The promise of the sensual kiss they’d shared still tantalized him. She had seemed so willing, so open. He’d responded, that was for damn sure. And stopped. He hadn’t wanted to take advantage just because she needed him.

Being a gentleman was driving him crazy.

Linc flung the covers completely away and headed for the bathroom to soak his head, disgusted with his own self-pity. He stepped into the shower and turned the water to hot. When he got out and got dressed, he reached for his phone and called her.

He wasn’t going to mention one word of what he’d been thinking. Right now he wanted to hear her voice more than anything. Somehow that was what he’d missed the most.

She picked up after several rings.

“Hey, Kenz. It’s me.”

“Hi, Linc.”

He heard a background clamor that didn’t make sense. She was someplace that echoed. He heard a few shouts and yelps too. “What are you doing?”

“Climbing the walls.”

“Kenzie, you need to take a break and calm down. I keep telling you that.”

“Hang on,” she said. “I’m sending you a picture. Wait for it.”

She hung up. Linc looked at the screen in frustration. A few seconds later, the photo arrived. Kenzie had held the phone above her head with one hand while she clipped a safety rope to a climbing harness that strapped around her hips and thighs. There was a vertical rock face behind her, dotted with colorful hand grips and toeholds.

He studied the picture. The harness was interesting—could be well worth his while to get a closer look. Been a while since he’d rock-climbed anything, real or fake. It was big fun. But she wasn’t smiling. He called her back.

“I get it,” he said. “Guess we can’t talk if you’re heading up.”

“Nope. That’s the idea.”

He frowned.

“All I want to do is crawl up a hundred feet. Inch by inch. You can’t think about anything else. Clears the mind.”

“Yeah, falling off cliffs will do that.”

She laughed without humor. “Don’t worry. This place doesn’t let anyone climb without a safety rope.”

“Good. Mind if I stop by?”

There was a pause. “It’s a public place.”

He grimaced. Not exactly a
sure-I’d-love-to-see-you.

“I’m on my way.” Linc knew something was the matter with her. Just not what.

When he entered the climbing gym and walked to the railed side area outside the towering walls, he saw her on the floor.

The harness looked even better in person, cupping her curves from the waist down. Improving them, even. She unclipped the safety rope and handed the business end of it to an instructor to use for someone else.

Linc’s gaze followed the rope to its secure fastening on a steel beam high above, then moved down to her as she walked over.

“Hi,” she said tonelessly, adjusting one of the gloves that covered only her palms.

“Good climb? You sounded like you needed a major workout.”

“I’m not done.”

“Mind if I watch?”

“You’re here. Why not?” She wiped sweat from her face with chalky fingers that left traces of white. Her body was tense. Rock climbing tightened everything.

He hadn’t been expecting a flirty conversation. Kenzie’s ability to focus was intense to begin with and all-consuming when she was doing this. She wasn’t thinking about him.

So be it. He liked looking at her.

The instructor came back with a different rope.

“Want to go up again?” he asked her. He didn’t even look at Linc. Kenzie moved away from him, clipping the rope on.

“See you in a bit,” she said over her shoulder.

Linc waved.

She pulled herself up with grace and strength to a double handgrip and went from there. The small bag of powdered chalk at the back of her harness bobbed as she found footholds, then began to climb in earnest. Shifting her weight. Bending her body backward to tackle a difficult overhang.

He was mesmerized.

Kenzie reached the top in her own sweet time. He had a crick in his neck from watching. Rappelling down, she bounced lightly off the wall to slow her speed. Enjoying the free feeling.

But she still wasn’t smiling.

When she landed again, she bent over with her hands on her knees, easing her lower back. Then she straightened and unclipped the rope for the instructor to take, strain evident on her face.

More slowly this time, she walked back to Linc, taking heaving breaths that hollowed her midsection.

“That was ten,” she announced.

“You went up the face ten times?”

“Maybe it was twelve.”

“Take a break.”

She nodded. “I guess I should. Nothing like going up a fake rock and coming back down. Over and over again. It’s just like life. Only here I get to be in control. Not the stalker.” Her voice cracked.

“What the hell happened?” he asked in a low voice.

Kenzie smacked the chalk off her hands before she wiped the sweat from her forehead. There was still a residue that left a mark. He wanted to reach out and take it off himself with a wet thumb.

Then he realized the mark was partly smeared blood.

She was inspecting her palms. “I didn’t even feel that.”

Linc looked over the railing and saw the split in the skin as she flexed her fingers down. She’d come here to push herself past her limits.

“Enough. Get out of the rig. Are you trying to kill yourself?”

“No. I had someone else in mind.”

He knew who she meant. “Go change. Let’s go somewhere else.”

Kenzie didn’t argue.

They stopped at a drugstore first, to buy salve and a roll of gauze for her palm. Back in the car, he wrapped it deftly and managed a decent-looking flat knot to hold it in place.

“Thanks.”

Then she told him about the card.

“I let myself think he was gone for a while, Linc. He’s never going to be gone. He won’t stop. I was terrified. I still am.”

At least she was able to say so.

“You can’t take it out on yourself.”

She turned her eyes, intensely green, to him. “I feel a little better.”

“Don’t say that. Your hand is a mess.”

“It will heal.”

Linc gave a sigh of pure frustration. “Kenzie, listen. And don’t swing at me if I ask you a question—”

She cut him off instantly. “I haven’t told anyone besides you, but I will. Mike Warren can have the card to keep with the roses.”

“And the Corellis?”

She reached for her purse. “I’ll call them right in front of you. Is that enough?” Her bandaged hand snagged on the strap of her purse and she flinched. “I wish I didn’t have to.”

He could see blood beginning to seep through the white gauze. Linc caught her wrist as gently as he could, but she pulled it away with a low cry.

“Listen to me, Kenzie. You’re not a human shield. You can’t protect the Corellis or Christine by putting yourself in harm’s way.”

“That’s not my intention. Not anymore. I admit I did try to do that at first, but—”

“But what?”

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Now you’re here.”

Kenzie twisted herself into his arms and stayed there, her face buried in his shirt. He stroked her hair and soothed her as best he could. “Yes, I am,” he said softly. “For as long as you want me.”

C
HAPTER
10

L
inc slid a zip-locked baggie across the diner table to Mike Warren. “There’s the card and the envelope. Kenzie’s fingerprints will be on both. She didn’t realize what it was until she opened it.”

Mike read the words on the front through the clear plastic. “Looks like the bastard’s having fun.”

“In his way.”

The lieutenant turned the baggie over to get a look at the back. “Did he sign it?”

“No. The envelope had a fake name.”

“You said she found it in a tote bag that Mrs. Corelli gave her. I assume the other cards were legit.”

Linc nodded. “I think so.” He took a smaller baggie out of his shirt pocket. “Almost forgot. Here’s Christine’s missing ID.”

“Another piece of the puzzle.” The lieutenant slipped the baggie into the inside pocket of his jacket before the waitress came over. The place was quiet. In fact, they were the only patrons.

“Menus for you two?” she asked.

“No thanks, Louise,” the lieutenant said. “Two javas will do it.”

She gave him a smile and went off to fill the order.

“She knows I tip the same for a steak dinner or a cup of coffee,” Warren explained.

“Nice of you,” Linc said.

The lieutenant grinned. “I believe in good community relations.”

And he was wearing a wedding ring when he said it, Linc thought.

Warren waited for the two coffees to arrive before he spoke to the business at hand. “I’ll have the lab dust the envelope and the card, check the flap glue for spit and shed cells, see if we can pull some DNA. He’s starting to leave a trail we can follow.”

“Speaking of that—did you ever get out to the scene of the accident?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact.”

“Find anything new?”

“Not at the site. The detective and I decided to walk north and south of it, a half mile each way.”

Linc raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“Nothing to the south. But we found an area on the shoulder to the north that was interesting. This would have been about a quarter of a mile from where the accident happened. I took a bunch of pictures.”

Linc had noted the lieutenant’s roundabout way of making a point before. He sipped the coffee, which was strong but fresh-tasting, and let the other man talk.

“You might not know what I was looking for,” Warren began.

“Try me.”

“Ha. I didn’t delete them off the camera, got it right here.” He patted the pocket of his jacket. “My wife looked at them, wanted to know why I took so many. I told her, you know, art shots, fall colors.”

Linc nodded patiently.

“Anyway, the area caught my eye because it was shaded by maples, but only in that one place. South of there, toward the accident site and after, it’s mostly scrub oak and pine. Looks like hell. The vines are choking it all to death.”

Linc was familiar with the rampant greenery along I-95. The highway maintenance crews didn’t whack it back until it started to grow over the signs.

“The maples caught my eye because they were so yellow, but they still had all their leaves. We got closer, I could see they were the Norway type—they grow close together. Like a giant umbrella, know what I mean?”

The botany lesson had to have a point. “Tell me,” Linc said.

“The ground under Norway maples generally stays fairly dry, even in heavy rain. So we found some deep tire tracks. A double set, side by side. Not that recent.”

“Okay.”

“We figured two cars had swerved off there, one right behind the other.” Mike Warren stirred his coffee. “I photographed the treads first. Then my guy measured and plotted the distances in a sketch—photos distort information like that.”

“Makes sense.” Linc thought of his struggles with the digital video.

With an appreciative audience, Mike Warren was warming to his subject. “We took soil samples to compare to the dirt we scraped out of Kenzie’s tire treads. There’s a lot of reference points: type of soil, seeds, vegetable matter, dead leaves, mud—we can match it all.”

Linc was impressed. “You think Christine was forced over more than once?”

“No. I didn’t say that.” The lieutenant looked at him levelly. “It could be that she pulled over first.”

Linc was a lot more interested now. “Why?”

“Because she knew the other driver. Let’s say he honked and she looked into her rearview mirror and thought, oh him. He’s a casual acquaintance, a coworker—someone she isn’t afraid of. He honks again and points to the shoulder of the road and she pulls over. Doesn’t get out, though.”

Linc got the idea. “No footprints under the maples.”

“Not a one.”

Linc leaned in, pushing his cup of coffee aside before he folded his arms on the table. “Go on.”

“They talk for a bit. But for some reason she’s picking up a weird vibe from the guy. Christine takes off. He follows.”

“And then he forces her off the road.”

“That’s what I was thinking. If the soil analysis confirms a connection, it’s something to go on.” The lieutenant patted his jacket over the inside pocket. “So is this.”

Linc leaned back, thoughtful. “Are you thinking coworker?”

“Yeah. Because of the ID. That didn’t fall out of her wallet—I saw the wallet before we returned her effects to her parents, looked inside. It was the kind with plastic slots for credit cards and her health insurance and store discount cards. All of them tucked in nice and tight.”

Linc felt compelled to play devil’s advocate. “Really? Kenzie told me that Christine wasn’t that organized.” He didn’t have to mention that he’d seen her cluttered paperwork for himself.

“She worked at a company with serious security,” Warren said. “She had to keep track of her ID.”

“Granted. Could be, though, that her ID card was stolen from her purse at SKC and she didn’t notice it was gone.”

“Maybe,” Mike Warren sat back with a dissatisfied look on his face. “But so what. We still have no clue as to who the guy might be and no evidence to help us get an arrest warrant if we find a likely suspect.”

“You might. Soon.”

“I’ll let you know about the soil samples. Helps us with probable cause and judges like that kind of stuff. Conjecture, not so much.”

“That’s your department,” Linc said.

The lieutenant groaned theatrically. “Last time I winged it, I got told to take off the tinfoil hat and stop talking about my imaginary friends.”