Person of Interest (17 page)

A voice of reason sounded a warning in the back of his mind, but he shoved the thought aside and soaked in the freshness of her kiss and the warmth of her closeness.

She pulled back. “I don’t think this is according to military policy.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “You’re worried it might be taken for fraternization?”

“Something like that.”

“But you’re no longer in the military. I don’t see how it could be a problem.”

She pushed away from him and shook her head. “Tell that to your boss at CID Headquarters.”

“Chief Agent-in-Charge Craig Wilson is out of town. Frank Gallagher is holding down the fort while the boss is gone.”

All the levity drained from Natalie’s face. “Frank’s the one who thinks I’m involved with the murders.”

Everett inhaled sharply. She was right. The investigation was ongoing. What was he thinking to let himself get carried away?

“Frank’s a good man, but he’s under a lot of pressure. The evidence will prove your innocence.”

“And until then, I’m not the person you should be kissing.” She sighed. “It’s late. The food is put away, and the dishes are done. I’m heading upstairs to get some sleep. I suggest you do the same.”

“If there’s anything you need...” If she was fearful or worried or needed someone to hold her, he’d be downstairs standing guard, struggling to come to terms with his actions and his thoughts. He’d never felt this mixed-up, certainly never while investigating a case.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” She hurried into the living room and then scurried up the stairs, her footfalls nearly silent on the hardwood staircase.

Stepping into the main room, he watched as she slipped into the guest room. The door shut quietly behind her, leaving an emptiness in the night that made him groan.

What was he thinking? He never should have gotten so close to her. The scent of her perfume had done something to his resolve, that and the silky softness of her skin. When he’d looked into her eyes, he’d only seen her beauty and not all the confusion that swirled around her.

Turning back to the sink, he let out the water and wiped his hands before he headed to the hall closet and pulled out two sheets, a blanket and pillow. He wouldn’t get much sleep tonight, but not because he was on the couch. Rather because he could look up the A-frame to the loft and see the door to the guest room where she slept. Surely, she was safe here. Safe from the man in the dark sedan and the person who had shot the window in the fishing cabin. Were they one and the same?

The killer wouldn’t be able to follow them to the mountain. If he did, he’d have to get past Everett first. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt Natalie.

Then he thought of the kiss and the way his heart had reacted to her nearness. Hopefully, Natalie wouldn’t get hurt. Hopefully, Everett wouldn’t get hurt, either.

SEVENTEEN

N
atalie woke to the bright glow of sunlight streaming through the curtains. She sighed, trying to relive the dream she’d had. Everett had kissed her, and the warmth of his lips and the intensity of his kiss had made her melt until she wasn’t sure her legs could support her. She’d wanted to stay wrapped in his arms until the light of day had pulled her fully from her slumber.

Sitting up, she wiped her hand over her face and then startled, realizing her dream had been a repeat of what had really happened last night.

She threw her legs over the side of the bed and sighed with regret. The kiss had been better than she had ever imagined. No wonder she wanted to slip back to sleep and reenact the special moment of closeness.

She shook her head. They’d both been too tired and not thinking rationally last night. Today they’d be back to a very proper relationship of CID agent and suspect.

Person of interest, she corrected herself.

Padding to the guest bathroom, she quickly showered and changed into a fleece top and jeans. The fresh outfit did wonders for her morale, as did her washed hair that she quickly blow-dried. After adding a bit of lipstick and blush, she smiled at her reflection in the mirror before she made the bed and returned all her items to the overnight tote.

She thought of Uncle Harry as she opened the curtains and took in the beauty of the mountain scenery. One window faced the manicured yard behind the house. Another opened to the valley that stretched out below them, aglow with autumn colors. She understood how his wife would have loved living on top of the world. Perhaps they were close to God, after all.

I’ve never given You much thought, Lord, but Everett has a deep faith, as does his uncle. Maybe I have everything wrong. Forgive me for being so shortsighted, and if You can hear me, let all things come together for good.

Opening the door, she smiled, inhaling the smell of bacon and coffee. The sound of two male voices greeted her as she hurried down the stairs.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Everett teased as she entered the kitchen.

Uncle Harry pulled a mug from the cabinet. “I hope you slept well, Natalie. Care for some coffee?”

She smiled and accepted the mug he offered. “Coffee’s just what I need, and I slept like a log.” Laughing at the phrase she hadn’t used since she was a kid, she pulled a carton of milk from the refrigerator and poured a hefty dollop into her cup.

“Breakfast smells delicious,” she said, lifting the cup of hearty brew to her lips.

“That’s Everett’s doing,” Uncle Harry said with pride. “He told me to stand back and let him play short-order cook.”

“What would you like, ma’am?” Everett asked with a bow, making her feel special in a fun, lighthearted way. “Eggs, bacon, toast, grits? Or all of the above?”

“Yes, yes, yes and yes. All of the above.” She pulled open the silverware drawer. “Since you’ve done all the cooking, the least I can do is set the table.”

Everett divided the food onto three plates and settled across from Natalie at the table. Uncle Harry again offered a blessing before they all ate hungrily.

“You’ve done the family proud,” Uncle Harry said with a nod of his head as he finished the last of his eggs and swallowed them down with the rest of his coffee.

Returning his cup to the table, he glanced at Natalie. “Everett said you two are taking a hike into the mountains today.”

She raised her brow at the playful cook. “Is that what you told your uncle?”

He winked, which sent a zap of warmth to her midsection. “Isn’t that what we talked about last night?”

His eyes held a mischievousness that tingled her toes and made her return his innocent gaze with laughter. “We talked about a lot of things. I remember mentioning my fear of heights.”

“Take the back canyon trail, Everett. You’ll be away from the cliffs. The trail’s well marked and easy hiking.” He glanced at Natalie. “You’ve got walking boots?”

“Just tennis shoes, but I don’t plan to go far.”

“That’s not what Everett told me.”

Seeing her confusion, Everett laughed and threw up his hands. “It’s a plot to get me in trouble. Uncle Harry, you’re spreading stories about me.”

“You’re a fine young man, Rett. No need to apologize for wanting to spend time with Natalie. If I were your age, I’d give you a run for your money.”

She laughed. “I’d only have eyes for you, Uncle Harry.”

“Hey.” Everett acted hurt. “Where’s that leave me?”

“In the dust,” Harry said, poking his nephew’s arm playfully.

Working together, they quickly rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher.

Everett took a few water bottles from the fridge and shoved them into a backpack, along with two protein bars.

“I’ll grab a sweater.” She raced back upstairs and returned to find Everett in the living room, his cell to his ear.

The tight expression on his face made her pause at the foot of the stairs. She didn’t want to eavesdrop, but she also wanted to know who had called. Was it the CID from Germany or Special Agent Frank Gallagher?

“Did you notify anyone at Fort Rickman?” Everett asked, turning to nod in her direction. “You’re sure about that?”

He held the cell close to his ear. “Anything turn up on a dark sedan?” He paused, listening. “If I’d gotten the license, we would have tracked him down by now.”

Another pause. “That’s right. Contact me if anything else develops.”

He disconnected and shoved his phone into his pocket. “Vernon Ingalls did not commit suicide.”

“The autopsy confirmed his death was a homicide?” she asked.

“That’s right. The toxicology screen came back positive. More definitive testing will be done. The results will take longer.”

“And the iced tea?”

“Positive, as well. A date-rape drug. Easy to acquire, especially in the city, and effective.”

“What about the suicide note?” Natalie asked.

“The key type didn’t match any of the printers at Vernon’s office. They’re searching other sources. If they locate the printer, they’ll also locate the killer.”

“Frank needs to check Mason Yates’s home and the printers at the CID office.”

Everett nodded. “That’s being done. They’re also checking Wanda’s printer.”

“Did she give them permission?”

“She did.”

Natalie swallowed the bile that filled her throat. “Frank wasn’t concerned about Wanda. He was questioning whether I was involved. Did they check the printer in Denise’s apartment?”

Everett nodded. “And the printers at the restaurant where Denise worked.”

“All of them were ruled out?”

“That’s exactly right.”

“So who wrote the note?”

Everett shook his head. “No clue at this point. The police officer said he’d notify me if anything else comes to light.”

“And Frank. What’s he say?”

“He was in a meeting when I called earlier this morning. The special agent I spoke to said they’re no closer now to knowing who was involved than at the very beginning.”

“And Mason?”

“He’s hasn’t been taken into custody.”

“Has he remained on post?”

“I won’t know until I talk to Frank.”

“Why haven’t they questioned Mason?”

“There’s not enough concrete evidence, Natalie.”

“Except everything I told you.” She tapped her foot and clenched her jaw. “Frank doesn’t want to admit that Mason could be a murderer.” She stared at Everett. “What do you think? Is Mason guilty?”

“You’ve provided enough information.”

“But you’re ignoring what I said.”

Everett shook his head. “I’m waiting to hear back from Frank.”

She threw up her hands. “How long do we have to wait?”

“I’ll call him now.”

He punched in the number. Natalie’s stomach dropped. Had she pushed Everett too far? Everything had started out good this morning. For a short time, she had escaped the ominousness that had surrounded her since she’d heard the argument at Fort Rickman.

She turned to glance out the window. The weather had changed. Dark clouds hung over the valley and warned of inclement weather and a possible storm. In addition, a storm was brewing within her.

“Frank, this is Everett.”

Natalie rubbed her hands, wondering what the conversation would reveal. So much had happened. Too much.

* * *

Everett quickly filled Frank in on what Janet Queen had shared last night. Although the CID agent was interested, he had even more important information to share with Everett. Information Everett didn’t like hearing.

After disconnecting, he pocketed his cell and walked past Natalie on his way to the porch.

She followed him outside. “What did he say?”

Everett stared at the dark clouds in the distance. They wouldn’t be able to take that hike. No telling what would have happened if the storm had hit with them far from his uncle’s house.

“What’s wrong, Everett?” Natalie asked when he failed to respond. “Is there something you don’t want me to know?”

“You told me your relationship with your mother wasn’t good, but you failed to mention what happened the night you graduated high school.”

Pain slashed across her face. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the night you pushed her down the stairs.”

She shook her head. “I did no such thing.”

“According to a police officer who Frank happens to know—a guy who worked in Detroit and remembered being called to an inner-city home in the projects.”

She shook her head. “Cops rarely came to my area of the city.”

He raised his brow and stared at her. “They did when your mother said her daughter had tried to kill her.”

Natalie’s eyes sparked fire. “How did Frank find this cop? Seems a bit suspect to me since he won’t even question Mason.”

“He knew the guy’s brother, who was in the army.”

“Does he always believe everything other people tell him?”

“Of course not. What’s the real story?”

“I told you I grew up in a dysfunctional home. My mother pushed my father around. The night of my graduation, my mother slapped me. Usually alcohol made him docile. This time it had an opposite effect. He shoved her away from me. She was standing on a small rug by the door to the basement. She turned abruptly, and her foot caught on the rug. She fell down the stairs.”

“Who called the police?”

Natalie pointed a finger back at her chest. “I called for help. Only when they arrived, my mother claimed I had pushed her.”

“And your father?”

“He went along with her.”

“Did they press charges?”

“My mother wanted to. My father eventually admitted it had been accidental.”

“Evidently, the call that night made an impression on the police officer. Frank said he was a rookie, new on the job. The first time anything happens you tend to remember.”

He thought of his own first case of sexual harassment, involving the female soldier and the sergeant major. He hadn’t looked hard enough or deep enough.

He glanced at Natalie. Was he making another mistake in this case?

* * *

Natalie hurried back into the house. Her morale was at low ebb. She’d thought Everett believed in her, but the phone call from Frank made her realize how mistaken she’d been.

She’d left Detroit as a young girl and had enlisted as soon as she turned eighteen. The army had been good for her and provided a way out of the inner city. She’d flourished under the rules and regulations and taken pride in her ability to move up the enlisted ranks.