A Killer Among Us Page 16

  Kit nodded and waited for him to finish his phone call. He hung up and said, “She’s on her way. She said I just caught her as she was finishing up packing.”

  “Going away for the weekend?”

  “Yeah. A camping trip to the beach with some friends.”

  “Ah. A weekend of roughing it, I see.”

  Noah raised a brow and then reminded, “Your junior year?”

  She shrugged. “I went to a party, got drunk, woke up sick, and wondered where twelve hours of my life had gone. I didn’t like it much and decided to go back to being a nerd.”

  He frowned. “That could have had a really bad ending.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “Thankfully, it didn’t.”

  Knowing what she knew now about date rape drugs and how easy it was to make a person disappear, she shuddered at her youthful naiveté. But all that was in the past. She was a quick study and she’d never again touched more than the occasional glass of wine.

  The elevator slid open and Heather Younts entered the lobby, pulling a carry-on-sized suitcase and an overnight bag with her.

  Setting the luggage aside, she came right to the point. “You said you had some more questions for me. I don’t know what else I can tell you, but . . .” Trailing off, she waited for them to speak.

  Noah picked up the questioning. “We found some rappelling equipment at a crime scene. It had your prints on it.”

  The girl frowned. “Well, I’m a member of the rappelling club here at school.”

  “Do you have your own equipment?”

  “No, I just borrow it from whoever’s not going. There’s always someone who can’t go every time. We switch equipment around all the time.”

  Noah blew out a sigh. “So there’s no way to tell whose equipment it is just by looking at it?”

  She laughed. “No way. I mean, not unless it’s someone’s special stuff and usually that doesn’t get loaned out to anyone.”

  Kit spoke up. “But that means that whoever we’re looking for might be in the rappelling club.”

  “Or not,” Heather said. “Sometimes we take people who are simply interested in the club. Let them try it out, see what we’re all about. Some join, some don’t.”

  Grimacing, Kit said, “A needle in a haystack.”

  “Whose equipment did you borrow the last time you went rappelling?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Um . . . I think it was Lee’s.”

  “Lee?”

  “Lee Travers.”

  “Where can we find Lee?”

  “He probably went home. He’s not big on staying around campus during the weekend.”

  “Do you know where he lives?”

  “He’s not a local. He’s from North Carolina. Somewhere around Raleigh, I think.”

  Kit nodded. “My stomping grounds.” She looked at Heather. “Do you have his address?”

  “No, but you should be able to find it pretty easily.” Heather stood. “Look, I need to get going. My friends are waiting on me. If I think of anything else, I’ll call, but I just want to get away from here for a while. The memories . . . Walter . . .” Tears welled and she looked up at the ceiling, trying to blink them back.

  “Go on,” Noah said, “we’ve got your number.”

  The girl grabbed her bags and hurried for the door.

  Noah looked at Kit. “You’ve got that look on your face.”

  Perturbed, she frowned. “What look?”

  “That look that says you’re thinking too hard. What are you planning?”

  “A road trip. Justin’s going to have to wait.”

  22

  Saturday morning dawned reluctantly. The clouds looked ready to release their burden at any moment. Kit threw her duffle bag in the back of her Toyota 4Runner and climbed in the driver’s seat. She’d called her mother late last night and hadn’t received an answer. Worried, she’d tried her mom’s best friend, Brigitte Hathaway.

  Brig, as Kit had called her since she could speak, informed her that her mother had been admitted to the hospital yesterday.

  “Why? What’s wrong with her?”

  “Do you really care?” the woman asked coolly.

  Hurt, Kit kept her cool and wheedled, “Brig, come on. You know I care. I love her, I just have some . . . issues I need to work through.”

  “I know all about your issues, Kit. But you’re mad at a woman who never did anything but love you.”

  “She lied to me my entire life!” Kit snapped as the hurt faded back into anger.

  Brig went quiet. Then, “Are you coming to see her?”

  “Yes. Tell her I’ll be there in a few hours. Please.”

  As she started to back out of her driveway, a car pulled up, blocking her exit. Stepping on the brake, she waited.

  Noah climbed from the vehicle and walked up to the window she’d just lowered. “I talked to the captain. He said you’d asked for a couple of personal days.”

  “I did.” She clenched her jaw. “I know now’s not exactly the best time since we’re in the middle of an investigation, but this is something I have to do.”

  “Where are you going? Is everything all right?”

  Was this any of his business? But she could see the concern in his eyes. “My mom is having some minor—if there is such a thing—heart surgery this afternoon. I’m going to Raleigh to check on her.”

  “Your mom?” Confusion flickered. “I thought . . .”

  She knew what he thought. “It’s a long story I’ll have to bore you with one day.”

  Curiosity gleamed in his gaze, but all he said was, “Would you be opposed to having someone come along?”

  “You?”

  “Who else?” He flashed her that grin that seemed to make her knees grow weaker each time she saw it. Pretty soon, she’d just melt into a little puddle every time he smiled at her.

  “Why would you want to do that?”

  “Because I like being with you.” Innocence and amusement stared back at her.

  She paused, then cocked her head. “And?”

  He laughed. “And I’m pretty sure you’re going to turn this into a working trip by chasing down Lee Travers. I want to be there when you do.”

  Kit gaped at him. How had he known? “Yep. He lives on the outskirts of Raleigh, not too far from where I’m going.”

  “I know. I checked. So did you call him yet?”

  “Yes, no answer. I can keep trying on the ride there.” Her heart twisted at the thought of spending so much unofficial time in his company. She kept her expression neutral, hoping he couldn’t read her sudden pleasure. “All right. Climb in.”

  “I’ll drive if you like.”

  “Why? You don’t trust me?”

  “With my life. Now come on.”

  With a shake of her head, she pulled back into her spot, grabbed her bag from the backseat, and joined Noah in his car.

  She buckled up and looked at him. “You just caught me.”

  “I see that. You didn’t answer your cell phone.”

  Frowning, she reached into her back pocket and pulled it out. Missed 3 calls. “Oh sorry. I left it on silent.” She changed the setting to vibrate and slipped it back into her pocket.

  “I guess I should apologize.”

  She startled. “What for?”

  “For making you work when you should be focusing on your mother.”

  Kit shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I mean it’s not like I’m going to be able to do anything but sit in a hospital room.” And avoid conversation. Work would be a welcome relief.

  “Not to be nosey, but I thought your mom was the same woman as Jamie and Samantha’s mother.”

  “She is. My biological mother. I was adopted as an infant.”

  “Does that have anything to do with the statement you made back at the restaurant the other day?”

  She frowned. “What statement?”

  “Something along the lines of ‘I just found my sisters and I wasn’t about to lose one.’ ”
<
br />   “Oh. That statement. Yeah. It does.”

  “Okaaaay.” He frowned as he drew the word out. “Why don’t you bore me with that story on the way there?”

  “I need to stop at an ATM. I don’t have a bit of cash on me.”

  “Kit . . .”

  “Oh fine. But don’t get too comfortable, I don’t want you dozing off on me.”

  The Judge watched his prey pull out of the driveway and head down the street. Where were they going? He’d seen her and the other detective talking to Heather again. What did they want with her? Did she know anything? Obviously not. They hadn’t come after him.

  Instead, they were heading out of town. Interesting. He followed, curiosity and anger warring within him. Curious about where she was going. Anger because it was with the cop. What was she doing with him on the weekend? Oh, yeah, sure, cops worked weekends, but she was in his personal vehicle. Not the cop car that said she was working.

  This wasn’t good.

  He’d already failed to get rid of Noah twice. Now it looked like he might have a chance to try again.

  Or warn Kit.

  That was it. He’d give her a warning. After all, she didn’t realize what she was doing.

  He watched the car speeding along in front of him on I-85 and felt the fury burn in his chest as he pictured them together. It was wrong. How dare Noah put his hands on her? She was his future wife. The one who would be the mother of his children. Fingers clenched the steering wheel as he continued down the highway.

  His fingers itched to place the gun against the back of the cop’s head and pull the trigger. Signaling to switch lanes, he stayed two car lengths back. Patience, he told himself. The time would come.

  He checked his Blackberry. Nothing pressing this weekend. A spur-of-the-moment decision had sent him after them. Now he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He’d follow them and see what they were up to. But he wouldn’t stay long. He had another trial to get under way. And an execution to carry out.

  The first in his next series of three.

  “So, your mother was pregnant with twins. Your biological dad had left before she found out she was pregnant. She went through with the pregnancy without telling anyone she was having twins and gave one of the babies away.”

  Kit sliced him a glance and he could see the hurt in her eyes. “Yep. That about sums it up.”

  “And when your biological dad came home . . .”

  “He’d been in a rehab facility part of the time, getting himself cleaned up.”

  “Because of the back injury that led to his painkiller addiction.”

  “You follow a boring story pretty well, Lambert.” Kit’s voice was monotone, without inflection. But deep down, Noah could hear the hurt behind the words. “Yes, he felt he was a danger to his family, especially when Samantha followed his example and popped a few of his pills because she thought they would take away the pain of her bad day at school. She had to have her stomach pumped and almost died.”

  Noah winced. “That had to be awful.”

  “It was his wake-up call. So he woke up and walked out without a word. They found out later he left to clean himself up.”

  “But he left his wife pregnant with twins.”

  “He didn’t know. My biological mother didn’t have much family or support, so it wasn’t too hard to hide. As a result, I went to live with my biological mother’s former best friend, Faith Kenyon, and Jamie went to live where she was supposed to.”

  For a minute, Noah didn’t speak. Then he told her, “I think you were probably right where you were supposed to be too, but it’s obvious you don’t feel the same.”

  “Just don’t go there, okay?”

  “Come on, Kit—”

  “Change the subject. Let’s talk about you.”

  A sigh filtered from him and he was silent for a moment. “Okay, so are you close to your adoptive mom?”

  She shot him an annoyed glance. “That’s not about you. If you don’t want to tell me about your sordid past, then can’t we just talk about the weather?”

  “I don’t care about the weather. I care about you.”

  A car moved over into their lane causing Noah to jerk the wheel to get out of the way. The car swerved a bit and he could have sworn she bit off a curse. “Excuse me? I didn’t catch that.”

  “I said, ‘Darn it.’ ”

  “Are you sure that’s what you said?”

  A low groan of exasperation erupted from her. “Why do you like to aggravate me so much?”

  “Kit, it’s not that I like to aggravate you, it’s just that I think you have a lot of stuff going on inside you that you need to let out. Pushing you seems to help you break down some of those walls.”

  She went still, and he wondered if he should have been quite so blunt. Then she shot him a sideways glance. “And what about your walls, Noah? Do you ever let anyone past those?”

  He flinched and opened his mouth to say something, then shut it. What could he say? What could he tell her without making her feel . . .

  Nothing.

  He couldn’t say anything yet.

  When he didn’t respond, she gave a small sigh and looked out the window for the next thirty minutes.

  Out of the blue she asked, “Are we being followed?”

  Snapping his attention away from his attractive partner, he glanced in the rearview mirror. “Which car?”

  “The black Mustang about two car lengths back. It’s been right behind us since we left Spartanburg. Keeping about the same distance and everything.”

  “Somehow, it wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “Slow down a little and let’s see what he does.”

  He let off the gas. Pressing the brake would alert the perp they were on to him. Noah pursed his lips and looked in his side mirror for a second before looking back ahead at the road. “Can you make out any details?”

  “No. The windows are tinted and it’s too far back. The car is an older model black Ford Mustang. Probably early nineties. But it does have an emblem on the hood. Looks like some kind of bird or something.”

  “Wish I could get behind him and get his license plate.”

  “You could try.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want to tip him off that we know he’s back there.”

  She pointed. “There’s our exit. You want to see if he keeps following or we’re just being paranoid?”

  “Sounds good to me.” He accelerated and moved over into the right lane. The black Mustang stayed in the left. Noah moved on over and started up the exit ramp. The black Mustang kept going.

  Kit rolled her eyes and looked at her partner with a wry smile. “Guess I’m losing it.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know.” He shot her a look. “Then again, who would blame you if you were?”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “Any time.”

  She pursed her lips. “He could have been after you, you know.”

  “Possibly, but look at it this way. We’ve been partners now for about three weeks. Before you came along, no one was shooting at me. At least not snipers from on top of buildings.”

  He had a point, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him. Although it did make her wonder what she’d done to make someone that mad at her.

  Before she could finish a mental list of possibilities, she’d directed Noah to the hospital. “You can just drop me off at the door.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Quite. Leave me here and see if you can track down Lee Travers.” She sighed. “This is something I’ve been putting off for about six months now. I’ll call you when I’m done.”

  He nodded. “I’ll be praying for you.”

  She froze. Then looked back at him. “Thanks.”

  Climbing out of the car, she headed inside the building. A stop at the nurses’ desk got her a room number. Kit slipped into the elevator and made her way to Faith Kenyon’s room. Her mother. Adoptive mother.

  Taking a
deep breath, she rapped her knuckles on the door and pushed her way in.

  Brig sat in a chair next to her mother’s bed.

  Looking at the frail woman in the bed, Kit couldn’t hold back a startled gasp. “Oh Mama.” She hurried to her side and picked up the hand that had become gnarled with arthritis much too soon. Just one look at her mother’s face brought a cascade of happy memories. Good-night kisses and after-school snacks and her daddy pushing her on the swing. Chocolate chip cookies and Christmas morning squeals.

  Brig looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “’Bout time you got here.”

  “I’m sorry.” And she was. All the anger she’d been holding on to faded in light of her mother’s illness. She laid the hand she held back on the bed and faced her mother’s friend. “She didn’t tell me.”

  “No, she didn’t.”

  “That was you calling and not leaving messages, wasn’t it?”

  A flush stole over the woman’s creased cheeks. “Guilty as charged. I kept hoping if you saw her number come up enough times on your phone, you’d call to check on her.”

  “It worked.”

  Satisfaction gleamed for a brief moment, then Brig looked at her sleeping friend. “I think her heart just broke when you took off.”

  Shame slammed Kit and she blinked back a surge of tears. “You’re right,” she said softly. “I shouldn’t have done that. I was just . . .”

  “Very angry,” came a small voice from the bed.

  Kit turned. “Mom. Hi.”

  “Hello, darling.”

  She gripped the bed rail. “Yes, I was angry.”

  “I may be sick and laid up, but I haven’t lost my sight. You’re still angry.”

  Kit dropped her eyes. “Yeah, I am, but I also love you very much and want you to get better fast.”

  A single tear slipped down her mother’s cheekbone to disappear into her hair. Kit reached out to wipe it away. “You should have told me,” she whispered.

  “Maybe so.”

  “I’m working on it, though. I won’t stay mad forever.”

  “You need to take it to the Lord, darling.”

  Her jaw firmed, then relaxed. “Maybe so. I’ve been giving him a lot of thought lately too.”