Deadly Dreams Read online

  The skeletal branches of smaller brush clawed at her red L.L.Bean jacket as she took another few steps into the woods, toward the ledge. She crunched over a blanket of newly fallen leaves, pushing aside branches that threatened to poke her eyes. When she reached the ledge, she looked over but saw nothing but some scrubby pine. No flashes of orange. Nothing that she was looking for.

  Although…

  Wait. There was something.

  Nothing obvious, but still, something that didn’t quite fit in.

  It looked like there was a bit of something glinting on the side of a faraway ridge just a bit below them, across the gorge. She craned her neck, unable to make it out, and pissed that she’d left her binoculars back in her pack with Tiger.

  Beez grabbed instinctively for her St. Anthony medal, praying for some sign.

  Whatever the sound was, it hadn’t come from there. That was too far away. The sound was probably just a child having fun on the trail. Sounds always seemed to echo around this gorge. It was all the rocks surrounding them. It was impossible to tell what noise came from where.

  Shaking her head, she’d just begun to turn when Tiger barked, the sound like a bullet in the quiet environment.

  Tiger was a good watchdog. Almost too good. He barked whenever he saw another human anywhere. Ones he disliked. Ones he liked. Mailmen. Babies. Old men with canes. Birds. Squirrels. And he had a sharp, ear-splitting bark that clawed at her nerves. It was his only flaw.

  A gust of wind blew the hood off her head, just as the sun slid behind a fat, gray cloud. Cold raindrops struck her face, and she quickly pulled her hood back up, tightening the drawstrings under her chin.

  Tiger barked again. Louder. Sharper. More urgent.

  “What is it, boy?” she called, then startled as a form appeared among the dark branches, adorned in a thick cover of sunshine-yellow leaves.

  She squinted, blinking away the rain caught in her lashes. Her eyes certainly weren’t what they were. “Jaxon? Is that you?”

  No answer.

  As the figure drew closer, she recognized the jacket. She’d poured compliments on it back at headquarters, because her L.L.Bean jobbie was fraying at the sleeves and she needed a new one. She’d asked where she could get herself some fancy duds like that. It was from the newest line by North Face.

  She had to remember that. She had a birthday coming up, and Ollie, bless his poor, shopping-challenged heart, was always wondering what to get her.

  Money was tight, though, with him on disability. She could probably stick with her L.L.Bean jacket for another season or two. She hated to be a fuss.

  “Hey, North Face,” she said, pointing over toward the thing glistening in the sunlight across the ridge. “What do you think that is?”

  She was joined at the edge. “Where?”

  She squinted again, but with the sun behind the cloud, the reflection had disappeared. She shook her head. “I don’t see it now. Looked like a reflection, swinging back and forth like a pendulum.”

  Then it hit her, and she actually laughed out loud.

  “What are you laughing about?”

  “I think what I saw was a wristwatch on a hiker or something like that. My eyes just aren’t what they—”

  She never had a chance to finish her sentence as strong hands pressed against her back and pushed.

  Beatrice Crosby tried to right herself, tried to reach out and grab something…anything.

  But her hands closed around nothing but air as she fell, face-first, into the gorge she’d practically been raised in. She didn’t have time to fight, but she had time to scream.

  And scream she did. For as long as it took to fall hundreds of feet to the shallow Tallulah River below.

  2

  Kylie Hatfield turned the radio up loud and danced around the office of Starr Investigations. As she did, she opened the “A” drawer and dropped a paper into a file folder under the October tab.

  Goodbye, October. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass, she thought, even though there were a couple days still left in the month. She might be leaving for Georgia soon, so October and all its Halloween fun would probably be gone before she walked into this building again.

  Lifting her long brown hair up off her shoulders and gathering it into a messy bun on top of her head, she started to pump her legs as she shuffled to the next pile of papers, most of them boring surveillance bills for Starr Investigations’ biggest client, Impact Insurance. They might have been snooze worthy, but they made up a good portion of her paycheck.

  It had been starting to get cooler, so she’d broken out a cardigan for the first time since spring. Bad choice. Thanks to Mother Nature’s bipolar personality, today was hotter than previous days. The soft cashmere fabric clung to her body with sweat, so she pulled it off and threw it on her chair, then did a series of squats.

  As she transitioned to lunges, Greg walked in and grimaced at her.

  He didn’t say a word.

  “Hey you,” she said, turning to lunge in his direction. “I’m just a steel town mountain girl. On a Saturday night.”

  He harrumphed and stalked to his desk. “I bet you are.”

  She sashayed up to him, taking his hand, doing a twirl. “What up, boss?” she sang in time with the music.

  He stared at her, then flipped on his computer. “Someone’s happy,” he grumbled. “I hate happy.”

  Ah, Greg Starr, the owner of Starr Investigations, the place where Kylie had been working since spring. He had the most successful private investigations firm in the whole city, and he acted like it was a noose around his neck. Kylie had to wonder, if she had been in the private investigations business for that long, would she be just as bitter?

  “I’m not happy,” she said, doing a Kick ball change dance move back to the file cabinets. “I’m exercising.”

  He looked over his monitor at her. “And…you can’t go to a gym, why?”

  She deposited another paper in the proper place and gave him jazz hands. “Because I have so much filing to do,” she sang, drawing out every syllable in as close to a Celine Dion version as she could manage. “I’ve been putting it off for weeks. And not only that, I have a wedding dress to fit into…someday.” She drew the last part out long and loud, channeling the singer’s performance at the climax of “My Heart Will Go On.”

  Greg covered his ears. “Fine. Whatever it takes to get it done, but can you dial it down a bit? My ears and eyes are bleeding. I’d give anything to unsee and unhear right now.”

  Kylie grinned, genuine affection for the grump making the smile grow wider. They’d been working together so long that, by now, he had to know that she ranked filing and straightening the office, two of the things she’d originally been hired for, somewhere among root canal work. She knew he’d be okay with anything she did to spice up the monotonous grind of her daily grunt work. He just lived to grumble. About pretty much everything.

  Plus, this was killing two birds with one stone. She didn’t exercise, but one of these days she and her mom were going to go out dress shopping. They had to. Her fiancé—she held up her left hand, admiring the sparks of light coming off the beautiful diamond Linc Coulter put on her hand not long ago—had hinted about them setting a date for Christmas, which was only a couple short months away. The last thing she wanted to do when she put on her dress was look like a ghost whale.

  That took her happiness down a notch or two. The dress. Even the thought of finding the outfit for the day when she was supposed to look her absolute best…gave her hives.

  Talk about pressure.

  Actually, everything about planning a wedding made her want to go bury her head in the sand somewhere, ostrich-style.

  She’d much rather just flashdance her woes away.

  “Did they ever call you with more info on the missing SAR woman?” she asked, bumping the filing cabinet closed with her hip. Greg had gotten a call earlier that day, telling her that he had a new case for her, but wanted to sort through addit
ional details before he sent her packing to Georgia. That had been hours ago, and she was itching to know more.

  “Yeah,” he said, lacing his hands in front of him. “That’s what I need to talk to you about, kid. I’m sorry for putting this case in your lap so soon after your…adventure.”

  She sat down, breathing hard, wiping sweat from her brow. It was so unusually warm for the end of October that it felt like summer, and they didn’t have the AC on. It’d have been a little sticky, even without the dance break.

  “Are you kidding me? Bring it,” she said excitedly, grabbing her trusty notepad and pencil. “I’m on the case, boss!”

  Kylie never backed down from a challenge. Even though she’d just gotten done with an “adventure,” as Greg called it, that involved learning who her real father was and dealing with a mafia madwoman he’d married after disappearing on Kylie’s mother, she was up for anything. She hated sitting around, waiting for work to fall in her lap. She loved action, loved being in the thick of things.

  He lifted a paper from his beaten old briefcase and stared at it, and Kylie’s bit of patience snapped. She turned the music down and leaned forward. “Come on, spill.”

  He stared at her through his bifocals, the crotchety look back on his face. “What are you, three?”

  “I’m excited! Enthusiasm is a good thing, boss. You should try it.” She stared at the back of the paper he was reading, trying to make out the words. “Come on. I need to get the details to Linc. He’s been doing an online seminar all day, so I haven’t been able to talk about going to Georgia with him yet.”

  Linc Coulter, her fiancé.

  She never got tired of hearing the word, even as that same word still scared her more than just a little. But she was getting used to it, having someone to lean on, someone she could trust. Someone besides her mother to have her back and love her unconditionally, zany personality and all.

  Not only that, she thrilled at the prospect that the two of them could work together, solving missing persons crimes. Since she was training to be a private investigator, and he was a search and rescue guy, they complimented each other so well. In many other ways too.

  Where she was a risk-taker, he was the voice of reason. Where she had the brains—when she deigned to use them—he had the brawn. She invited trouble, he deflected it. They’d kick ass together as a team of crime-fighters, like Batman and Batgirl, if only given the chance.

  Greg nodded. “Yeah. It’s for a friend of mine from high school.”

  She stared at him, her mouth an O of mock-surprise. He hadn’t told her about the close connection when he mentioned the missing SAR woman earlier that day. “Wait. Really? They had high schools when you were young?”

  “Haha,” he said, studying the paper. “Most of my classmates are dinosaurs, but Ollie is an actual human being. And he’s in trouble. I think you can help him, you and that ever-so-dreamy fiancé of yours.”

  Kylie felt bad for joking about it, even though with Greg, it was just too easy. They could usually go back and forth, mildly insulting each other all day. It made the boring days a lot more interesting, trying to think of ways to get Greg’s proverbial goat since the seasoned PI didn’t get upset by much. But with this, she thought she detected more than a bit of concern in Greg’s voice.

  “What do you need us to do?”

  Greg let out a breath that smelled of the cigarettes he smoked whenever he wasn’t in the office. “Well, as I told you, he called me, very distraught after his wife went missing in Tallulah Gorge. They still haven’t found her. You know the gorge?”

  She shook her head. When it came to state parks, Linc was the expert. “I don’t.”

  “Well, it’s on the border between Georgia and South Carolina, only a hundred miles or so from Asheville. Nice scenery, so I hear.”

  In Kylie’s mind, anything called a gorge couldn’t be very beautiful at all, but she didn’t say a word. As much as she wasn’t a fan of any outdoor activity, she knew it was right up Linc’s alley. He was the best search and rescue guy in the state, and Linc and his German Shepherd, Storm, made a really unstoppable duo. They’d handled thousands of cases in the area. But this was North Carolina. That was Georgia. A little out of his jurisdiction. “Why us? Why isn’t the Georgia SAR looking for her?”

  Greg snorted. “Beez was SAR. She and her dog were on the trails looking for a missing hiker. They found the hiker at the bottom of the gorge, dead from an apparent fall. But Ollie’s wife and her dog just disappeared during the search. Ollie’s heartbroken. Been married over thirty years. He sounds like he doesn’t know what to do, he’s so beside himself.”

  “That’s terrible,” Kylie murmured.

  “I was going to take a ride down there, just to pay him a visit, but you two would be more help than I could be.”

  Kylie nodded. So what if the case involved tromping around in the wilderness? So what if she didn’t know Ollie? She already felt terrible for the poor man and wanted to help. And Greg looked so distraught…

  “Yes. Of course.”

  The relief that flooded Greg’s features made Kylie even more intent on helping her boss, no matter how much of her comfort zone got destroyed out in the wilderness.

  “Woman’s name is Beatrice Crosby, known as Beez to her friends, and the dog is a pit bull named Tiger. She radioed in from the North Rim Trail to tell headquarters that she hadn’t found anything of the missing hiker. That was the last anyone ever heard from her.” Greg looked like he was aging right in front of her eyes. “It’s been raining like hell, slowing everything down, and because of the uptick in visitors wanting to see the fall leaves, there has also been an uptick in missing persons, so the local SAR is being stretched thin.”

  “That’s awful,” Kylie said. She couldn’t imagine what Ollie was going through, waiting and wondering for news of his spouse like that. She could only imagine he must be frantic. “Poor guy. And this happened yesterday? Does he think she’ll be found alive?”

  He shook his head. “Let’s just say that he’s very worried. Ollie knows that if Beez could have made it out, she would be out by now. Or she would have radioed for help. Something. Ollie’s a good guy. Pretty easygoing. And he’s not quite right with the way things have been playing out, or so he tells me.”

  Kylie’s ears perked up. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, he thinks that the local authorities aren’t doing enough. He told me he thinks there might be something shady going on. That’s why he was really hoping someone outside of the force would come in and give him an outside assessment.”

  There was nothing she liked better than shady goings-on. “Something shady…like what?”

  Greg wagged a finger in her direction. “That’s what you’re going to find out.”

  Kylie nodded solemnly. “I will do my best.”

  Greg rolled his eyes. “Yeah. He tells me his wife was brought up on that mountain and that she can find her way around there in the dark. And she’s had decades of experience as a tracker and outdoorswoman, so it just doesn’t add up in his book. He suspects foul play. Plus, her body not being found is more than a little suspicious.”

  “Hmm,” Kylie said, unsure of how quickly a body should be found under those circumstances. “Does seem a little suspicious.”

  “Right. So, you on it?”

  “Yes!” Kylie shuffled to the edge of her seat. As if there was any other answer.

  Then she looked at the last pile of paper on her desk and frowned. The case of her father hadn’t been an official case, but Greg had wanted her to do all the paperwork as if it was. She’d been avoiding it, some because she’d taken time off to tend to the gunshot wound Linc had sustained during the struggle with her father’s crazy mafia-princess wife. But mostly, she just didn’t want to relive how disappointed she was in the man who’d abandoned her as a baby.

  “But…can I?” She waved a hand at the folder titled William Adam Hatfield. “You’re okay with me leaving you alone?”

/>   He snorted. “You think I can’t handle this place without you?”

  Well, he’d managed this as a one-person office for thirty years, so she suspected he’d be fine. But upon her recommendation, he’d begun some sorely needed technological upgrades. He’d recently gotten them used computers, and she’d switched out the old fire hazard of a coffee maker for a Keurig. But after she’d brought in all this new-ish technology—it wasn’t really new, considering that most people had been using the things for decades—she realized precisely why Greg was averse to it. Technology hated him. And he hated it right back. If it had more than one button, he wasn’t interested.

  She motioned to the Keurig. “You and that coffee maker have daily fights. If it weren’t for me, you probably would’ve died from caffeine deprivation.”

  “True, the thing is ridiculous. But there’s a coffee shop down the street, and I kept the old one under the sink, just in case. I’ll live.”

  “And the computers?”

  “I have that help desk you fixed me up with. I’ll handle it.” He shrugged. “Besides, you’re the one who uses the computer. Most of what I do is still manual. Except email. And what can happen with email?”

  She gnawed on her lip doubtfully. “But you’re barely ever around this place to begin with. You’re always so busy.” Though she wasn’t sure about that. Most of the time when he was gone, she wasn’t sure if he was out on a case or just gallivanting. “Don’t you need me to help with—”

  He waved his hand toward the door. “Get out of here. I’ve been thinking about reducing my caseload anyway.”

  She blinked. Thinking about reducing his caseload? She’d noticed that the paperwork had been growing slimmer, and she wondered if he’d started that reduction already. “Why?”

  “I’m too old for a lot of this shit, kid. What can I say? I’m not a Hardy Boy anymore. The thrill is gone.”