style="font-size:15px;"> Inside the municipal building, Nick trekked up the last flight of stairs and stepped onto the fourth floor. As he wandered down the hall toward the police department, the sound of a woman’s anxious tone quickened his steps.
A few weeks ago, he’d left the military and vowed to leave his training behind, live a peaceful life and mind his own business.
Too late. His heart rate sped up and his thoughts churned into full investigative mode.
He rounded the corner, his rapid steps heavy against the wood floor as he entered the elevator lobby. To his surprise, Kylie stood in plain view in front of the elevator. Her glossy dark hair, tied in a ponytail, bounced against her slender neck as she pivoted to look at him.
“Nick.”
He wagged his brows. “We have to stop meeting like this.”
An uncertain smile quivered up at him. An unexpected heat filled his chest. She was getting to him, all right.
“Nick Bentley,” the tall, burly officer greeted him, redirecting his thoughts.
Nick shook Dave’s outstretched hand. “It’s been a while, Dave. Hope you’re doing well.”
“Just fine.” Dave canted his head toward Kylie. “I wish I could say the same for her.”
Nick met Kylie’s concerned gaze. “Still a little unnerved about last night?”
She half nodded and then shrugged. “You could say that. Add a heart-racing ride in a possessed elevator and, well...my nerves haven’t settled quite yet.”
“So you were the one stuck in the elevator?”
She bobbed her head, looking dismayed. “Yes, I was. And I wouldn’t recommend a ride like that to anyone.”
He gave a slight chuckle. “Are you okay?”
She pushed hair from her face. “A little frazzled, but fine.”
“I can understand you being on edge after last night’s events. I’ve had a tough time getting the murder off my mind. I came by this morning in hopes of gathering a few details. Apparently you did also.”
“Yes. Sorry to say.”
“Another article?”
Kylie answered his question with a tight smile.
Curiosity brightened Dave’s expression. “Nick, you’re in law enforcement, aren’t you? Part of the military police?”
“Something like that.”
“Delta Force. The army’s most elite top secret task force,” Kylie put in.
Nick still couldn’t believe Kylie had kept up with him. A wave of guilt tightened his chest. To think how hard he had worked to forget this town...and her.
Dave nodded. “You sound like a good resource to have around here. Small town or not, the department stays busy, but mostly due to being understaffed. I’m chief investigator, with only three on my staff. If you have time, any input would be appreciated. We’re not too well versed on murders of this caliber.”
“I don’t know about that.” Nick waved off the compliment. “I’m sure you guys are more than capable, but I’ll be happy to take a look at any evidence you have.”
Dave ushered them into a corner office under the speculative gazes of other law-enforcement personnel.
Nick took a seat beside Kylie. Dave shut the glass door and joined them at the table.
“So, what do you know so far about our John Doe?” Kylie started, flipping open her notepad.
Dave folded his thick fingers on the marred wooden table. “The forensics team is working on the details. What we do know is that robbery wasn’t the motive. The victim’s wallet was discovered in some bushes a block from the homeless shelter on Oakmont. There were eighty-eight dollars in it, along with his ID and Social Security card.”
Nick figured as much. “So who was this unlucky person?”
Dave adjusted his bulky frame in his seat and canted his head. “The victim was Robert Tucker. He lived at the shelter. Showed up here about a month ago. No one there knows much about him. He pretty much kept to himself.”
“Anyone see him the day of the murder?” Nick sorted through some pictures of the victim on the table.
“Actually, earlier in the day Tucker was in an altercation with another patron of the shelter and he was asked to leave.”
Kylie stopped writing and glanced up from her notes. “Do you consider the man Tucker had the altercation with a suspect?”
Dave gave a firm shake of his head. “No, we’ve already ruled him out. He ended up in the hospital with a broken arm and head fracture and is still there.”
“Nice guy, Tucker was.” Nick gave a low whistle.
“Did Tucker have any issues with anyone else at the shelter?” Kylie scratched her temple with the end of her pen.
Dave shrugged. “At the moment we don’t have those details.”
A lump formed in Nick’s throat. His hope for a quick resolution to this case slipped away. “Do you have any suspects at the moment?”
“No. That’s something we’re working on.” A flat coolness blanketed Dave’s tone.
If Nick hadn’t known Dave, he would have thought years on the force had made him callous. A coping strategy Nick had seen often. Hardened to the tragedies of others. One of the reasons he’d left.
“Does anyone at the shelter have information on Tucker’s family members, distant or local?” Kylie’s hopeful tone escalated a bit.
A shrug from Dave. “Not that I’m aware.”
Kylie noted a couple more details on her pad.
Nick’s mind raced with questions. But only one seemed pertinent. “The victim was bleeding from a wound on the neck, correct?”
When Dave nodded, Kylie finished his question. “Is that what he died from?”
“Seems to be. His throat was slit and he bled through his carotid artery.”
Several seconds passed. Nick waited for Dave to elaborate further. When he didn’t, Nick had to ask. “Slit from ear to ear?”
A hesitation, then Dave nodded.
Kylie stopped writing. Her gaze snagged Nick’s and her face paled. “Exactly like Conrad.”
“Afraid so.” Dave’s voice went low. “We’re already looking into a possible link to Conrad’s unsolved murder.”
Nick’s heart dropped like a piece of lead to his stomach.
That
