Deadly Dreams Read online

  “Well, it’s been unseasonably warm. No one wants to work in the heat.”

  “Yeah, but now it’s the end of October, and he’s still slowing down. He talks about getting too old for this shit, and today he told me he’s thinking of limiting the number of cases he takes on. And he’s just…I don’t know. Giving off weird vibes.”

  “Weird vibes?”

  “Yeah. Retirement vibes. Like he may be thinking of closing up shop.”

  Linc gave her a sympathetic look. He knew how much she loved the job. And he also knew she was still at least a year off from getting her official PI license. But he knew exactly what she’d have said to him in this situation.

  “Hey. What is it you’re always telling me? Don’t worry until there’s something to worry about?”

  She twirled her fork in the pasta. “You’re right. It’s stupid to get all worked up about it.”

  He waited for her to say more, but it was clear she’d forgotten where she’d been headed when she’d said she had something to tell him. “So…this case?” he prompted, nudging her back on track as he often did.

  “Oh! Right! It’s for one of his friends from high school. Poor guy. I really feel sorry for him, so I want to help, but it’s down in Georgia. We have no idea how long the case will take, so if we’re staying there, it might be difficult for us to get all the planning done for the wedding in two months. I checked it on the map, and it’s about two hours away, and even if we were driving back and forth that would be four hours a day, and—”

  She was rambling, leaving him no choice but to cut her off. “What kind of case? I’m curious…why’s he giving it to us? Where do I come in?”

  “Sorry.” Her face went a pretty pink. “The man is Ollie Crosby. His wife is search and rescue in Georgia and was conducting a search for a missing hiker when she and her dog just vanished. They’ve been missing since yesterday, but the husband thinks something is suspicious.”

  Linc searched his brain for a Crosby, cursing himself for taking a pain pill earlier as it slowed his thinking more than he liked. As one of the state’s most experienced rescuers, Linc was pretty well-known along the SAR circuit and had given dog obedience and SAR classes throughout the east. He’d also worked with dozens of SAR people over the years, and the community wasn’t all that big. The name Crosby definitely struck a bell.

  At once, it came to him. An older woman with sandy hair. He’d first met her at a conference down in Atlanta. Since then, they’d been on a few cases together, whenever he got called to that neck of the woods. She’d had more experience than most everyone. A lot more. Hell, she was a fixture in the close-knit SAR community. “You mean Beez?”

  When Kylie’s jaw dropped, he knew he’d hit the nail on the head. “Yes! You know her?”

  “Yeah. Not well, but I first met her at a conference in Atlanta. We’ve been on a few searches before because it’s not uncommon for them to call in neighboring SAR teams for large-area searches. She’s missing?”

  Kylie nodded. “Her husband is Greg’s friend, and he seems convinced that there’s foul play involved.”

  Linc rubbed his jaw. “Being missing for only a day isn’t rare in that neck of the woods, but Beez was definitely experienced. I’m not sure how suspicious it is, but it is very concerning that someone like her hasn’t been found. She knows her shit, especially concerning the parks in Northeastern Georgia. Whereabouts was she lost?”

  “Um…” Kylie thought for a second. “I can’t remember. A gorge, I think, on the South Carolina/Georgia border.”

  “Tallulah Gorge,” he said, leaning back in his seat. That was Beez’s old haunt, if he remembered correctly. He’d been there before, years before, right when he’d gotten out of the service. He recalled the waterfalls and the steep drop-offs. Most of the pathways weren’t difficult while some of the trails were bitches.

  One thing that Linc remembered from their time together was Beez telling him that she was queen around those parts. She’d boasted that no one knew that gorge better than she did. He’d liked her confidence and spunk.

  Foul play? Could be. Could be not. The weather in Georgia had sucked the past couple weeks.

  “Her dog is missing too?”

  Kylie reached down and put her hand on Vader’s big head. “He could’ve just run off or something.”

  “Not a SAR dog. SAR dogs know better than to just go off. They’re trained to find their way back to civilization if their handler’s in danger. To summon help. For him to disappear too…it’s not good for either of them.”

  Kylie’s brow knitted. “That’s what I’m afraid of. But I really do want to help Greg…and Ollie. He must be at his wit’s end.”

  “Yeah. We should get down there tomorrow.”

  She seemed relieved. “Are you sure it’s a good idea, considering your shoul—?”

  “Storm’s the best search and cadaver dog around. She’ll come in real handy during this job. And my shoulder’s fine. I just need to keep icing it and take it easy now and then.”

  “Yes, but…” She gnawed on her bottom lip.

  What? First, she’d seemed gung-ho about this job, and now she was holding back? It didn’t make sense. As he studied her, a thought struck him, and he understood what her reluctance was about. If it wasn’t the shoulder, it had to be his PTSD.

  Not that he could blame her for being worried about that.

  He’d scared the shit out of her enough with that. Last month, when he’d been having unchecked memories resurfacing from his harrowing days in Syria, he’d gone into a garage collapse and had a panic attack when he’d uncovered a dead woman. Since then, therapy had helped him come to terms with his anxiety upon seeing dead bodies, but there were still bumps in the road. The gunshot hadn’t helped things, but it was good to see Kylie worried about something instead of diving headfirst without looking, which she’d been prone to do.

  He stood up and wrapped his good arm around her. “I get it. But this is what Storm is good at.”

  “I’m not worried about Storm so much as you.” She didn’t meet his eyes.

  “Well, it’s what I’m good at too, you know. Or at least I used to be, and I hope to be again. I’m getting better, Kylie. Honestly, I am.”

  She exhaled deeply. “But with your arm? You usually control her with your right arm. You’ll need someone to help with her, won’t you?”

  He bristled. “I can handle it.”

  “No, you can’t…yet.” She placed a hand on his arm. “I can, though. Storm trusts me too. And I’ve been around you two enough to know how you handle her.”

  Linc knew enough not to argue with his fiancée. When it came to these things, she carried on until she got her way. “Fine. I’ll let you tag along.”

  She returned his smug smile and slapped his good shoulder lightly. “Ha-ha. You’d better. Since it’s my case, buster, you’d do well not to forget that. But…” the worried expression returned, “are you sure you’ll be okay? She is a friend, not a complete stranger, after all. And the dog…”

  He knew that look in her eyes too. He hadn’t gone on many cadaver searches since the one at the collapsed parking garage, when he’d thought his heart was giving out. Since then, he hadn’t had much contact with dead bodies. But he was good. Mentally, he felt stronger than he had in a long time.

  “The counseling has helped, sweetheart. And I’ve been strict about taking the meds too. I’m good.”

  She nodded, and her eyes lit up like they did whenever she had a juicy lead to follow. She was pleased. “Okay. Then…tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. Sounds good.”

  She finished up her plate, stacked it on top of his, and took it to the sink. “I’ll make a deal with you. You get the dishes, and I’ll handle planting the bulbs?”

  He shook her hand. “Deal. And then…screwing?” He gave her a hopeful look.

  She smacked his good arm. “Absolutely.”

  He reached for the dish soap and saw her staring at the wedding br
ochure. On the cover was an elegantly dressed couple, staring into each other’s eyes. It was a nice sight, one that would make even the most hardened non-romantic smile.

  But Kylie was frowning.

  Frowning like she wanted to kill that happy couple.

  That was interesting.

  “It looks like our wedding planning will have to be put on hold, I guess,” he added, opening up the dishwasher.

  She clicked her tongue in what he thought was probably fake disappointment. “I suppose. But that’s okay. We have time.”

  He couldn’t be sure, but as she turned away, he thought he might have seen the smile come back.

  4

  In the midmorning, in a driving rain, Kylie and Linc took off in Linc’s truck toward the little town the Crosbys called home. As they drove, with Storm and Vader in the back seat, Kylie kept trying to feed Linc his breakfast—handfuls of Cheerios— without the dogs getting there first.

  “We probably should’ve eaten breakfast before we left,” she said as the dogs snapped at her hands. Mostly Vader, since Storm was too dignified and well-behaved for that, but Kylie had the distinct feeling that being around her unruly pup had changed Storm’s normally ladylike ways.

  Vader—her rescue pup and the reason she’d met Linc in the first place—had always been the wild one, as much as she loved him. Storm had always been militantly precise, just like her handler, but one had to be so in order to work for the Army’s Military Police in Syria. Once so different, they were now like two peas in a pod.

  Just like their owners, Kylie thought with a smile, holding out another handful to him, dodging the heads of her pups.

  He took it and shoved them into his mouth. “Nah. I like you feeding me. Have any grapes?”

  “Har-dee-ha-ha. You’re funny,” she deadpanned, looking at the raindrops marching across her window. “It’s been raining every other day for the past three weeks. I think we’re going to wash away one of these days.”

  Linc shrugged. “What’ve you got against rain?”

  Sure, he didn’t care. He was the manly man, the type who loved tromping around in the great outdoors no matter how cold or miserable it was, no matter how much mud he sunk into. She imagined him on the side of a mountain, beating his chest. Oh, the great outdoors! How glorious! Meh.

  Kylie much preferred indoor activities. But whenever “foul play” was at hand, she found it within herself to deal with even the things she loathed. Still, she would’ve preferred dryness, especially knowing they’d probably walk the trails in the gorge later that day. Everything felt so damp and dreary.

  And mud? She hated mud. She looked down at her hiking boots and grimaced. She might have been dressed the part, but that was about it. “I despise it. And the dampness. And mud. And cold.”

  “And everything about nature in general. I got it.”

  “Why do you like the rain so much?” She was genuinely curious, hoping that his outlook about bad weather might change hers.

  He looked up at it, considering. “Rain makes things new again. If you didn’t have rainy days, you’d never appreciate the sun.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “What, are you auditioning for a job at Hallmark?”

  He laughed. “Life is short. Smile while you still have teeth.”

  She couldn’t help it, she giggled. “You’re like a Sharpie. Super fine.”

  “We’ve found our new career move if investigations and SAR don’t pan out,” Linc said, a big smile still on his face. She could look at that smile all day. “But back to the rain…one thing that does suck is that it’ll make finding any traces of Beez a lot harder.”

  The smile slid from Kylie’s face as it did his. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

  Not to mention, the damp weather was obviously seeping into Linc’s limbs. She watched as he massaged his shoulder, wincing. “How’s the arm?”

  He put both hands back on the wheel. “Fine. Like I told you the first twelve times you asked today.”

  “Would you rather me be a total bitch and not care?” she asked, tilting her phone to look at the display. “Oh, you’re supposed to take this exit.” She pointed, raising her voice. “Now!”

  He veered off onto the striped V separating the highway from the exit road, tires squealing, gritting his teeth.

  He’d asked her why she didn’t just plug the address into the truck’s navigation system, but she hated that disembodied voice breaking into their conversation, so she’d kept her phone on mute and was giving him the directions. The problem was, she kept forgetting that he had no clue where he was going. Which wasn’t exactly making this easy for him, she realized.

  “Sorry,” she said when she realized his knuckles, wrapped around the steering wheel, were white. He was all about preparing, planning, and she…simply wasn’t.

  “It’s okay,” he said, letting out a breath. “Just next time…give me a little bit of notice, okay? Last thing we need out here is to be driving into a tree. We’re the rescuers. Don’t want to have to be the rescued.”

  She sighed. “Notice” always kind of ruined the fun where she was concerned. She loved flying by the seat of her pants, letting life take her wherever it wanted to go. Sometimes she’d ask him to go for a drive, hoping to find a romantic spot, someplace neither of them had ever visited. When she had, he’d brought his maps and his emergency car kit and even a flame-retardant blanket, should the truck spontaneously burst into flames. He was famously prepared for every what-if.

  He should be the one planning the wedding, she thought as they found themselves on a narrow country road. He’d make sure every angle was covered. Heck, he’d probably even have a contingency plan for an alien invasion. If she did it, it would probably be a disaster.

  Pines crowded in on them, and trees provided a canopy overhead, making it even darker, almost like night. They’d been in the middle of nowhere for the past hour, and now, they really were. It felt suffocating, ominous, like they were headed toward certain doom.

  Or maybe that was just the rain. If it’d been sunny and she had the rays of light to warm her, she probably would’ve felt fine.

  She looked up at the sky—it was clouds on top of clouds, no sign of a break. Then she studied the map closely. “Just five more miles on this road, I guess,” she said, moving the display a little so she could anticipate the next move for him.

  “You guess?” He gave her a doubtful look.

  “Whatever. We’ll get there,” she said, reaching over to massage his arm. She tapped his shoulder lightly in the places she knew grew too tight. “What are you worried about? What could possibly happen to us out here?”

  He snorted. “You haven’t seen Deliverance, have you?”

  “No,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “What’s it about?”

  He shook his head and looked out the window, into the woods. “It was filmed around here, I think.”

  She looked at him, waiting for more. “And? What’s it about?”

  “Some city morons who go out into the wilderness like this and get their asses handed to them by the locals.”

  She picked a lone Cheerio off her shirt, unsure as to how the dogs hadn’t noticed it. Popping it into her mouth, she looked into the dark woods. “And so you’re saying I’m the city moron in this scenario?”

  His thumbs tapped on the steering wheel as he grinned. “If you don’t pay attention to the directions your GPS is telling you and end up leading us into the gorge, you are.”

  She frowned but kept an extra-close eye on her phone from then on out, to make sure she didn’t prove him right. Within ten minutes, they’d pulled down a long driveway with a rusty mailbox out front that said CROSBY.

  “See?” she said triumphantly as they emerged from the thick pine trees and a small, tiny ranch came into view. “No problem. We shall not meet our deliverance today, Mr. Coulter.”

  At least, she hoped not.

  Though, as she looked at the place, half-swallowed by overgrown landscapin
g, its roof bleeding with brown stains, windows covered with dusty screens, she had to admit it looked like the scene of a horror movie. Was Deliverance a horror movie? She couldn’t be sure from Linc’s description.

  There was a long dog run alongside the drive, and an empty garbage can was overturned near the house. Linc wouldn’t be so inconsiderate as to drive on someone’s lawn, no matter how unkempt it was, so they stopped there, still far from the door.

  That meant walking a long way in the rain, without an umbrella. She pulled her jacket’s hood up over her head and slid out of the truck as Linc cracked the windows. “Stay, boy,” she said to Vader, who was already trying to poke his head out. He whimpered and laid beside Storm, looking beaten.

  She walked closer to the house, noticing different things buried in the greenery; a ceramic toad by a toadstool, a couple of gnomes, a one-eyed copper bunny with a carrot. She had a strange feeling, the same kind she got whenever something in one of her cases was about to go awry. Her spidey sense, she called it.

  She glanced at Linc, who was eyeing the place warily. He felt it too. As she expected, he rushed ahead of her on the path to the front porch, as if to put himself between her and the danger. She nudged him aside. He was a gentleman, but sometimes he took his “duty” of protecting her a little too far.

  Before she could climb the crumbling step and ring the old doorbell, the door opened just a crack. First, a suspicious eye, then a wide, doughy face appeared.

  Standing behind the dirty screen was a semi-bald man. What hair he did have was pure white and stood up like a koala’s. He was wearing thick glasses but still squinted down the end of his nose to look at them. “You selling something?” he muttered.

  “No,” Kylie said, proudly producing a business card and holding it up to him. With the dirty screen, he probably couldn’t read it, so she added, “I’m Kylie Hatfield from Starr Investigations.”

  “Who?”

  Oh no, Kylie thought. This is starting off just great.