The Secret of Cherokee Cove - Paula Graves 3 стр.


Just briefly when he came in.

Any idea what caused the accident?

Nix wasnt sure he was authorized to comment on what was now an ongoing investigation.

Apparently his poker face needed more work than he realized, for Natalies brow furrowed. It wasnt an accident, was it?

Nix cleared his throat. I cant really comment.

Natalie and her husband exchanged looks. Well just ask Doyle and hell tell us.

That may be, Nix agreed. But thats between the chief and you.

Natalies eyes flashed with irritation, but her husband put a hand on her arm. His touch seemed to settle her. Fair enough, she said finally. How did he look when you saw him?

Kind of a bloody mess, Nix admitted. Had a gash on the side of his head that needed stitches, but Doyle said he hadnt lost consciousness, so it looks like the worst of his injuries will be a broken leg. The chiefs condition was really more than Nix should have shared with the Coopers, but given his reticence on the nature of the accident, he decided it wouldnt hurt to share a little news that they could get with a phone call to Dana Massey. She hadnt told them about the brake tampering on her way out, however, so hed keep that information to himself.

Hes a good guy. A good cop, Natalie said, her tone a little defensive.

Yes, maam, Nix agreed.

Her eyes narrowed at his polite tone, but if she thought he was patronizing her, she didnt say so. He wasnt, really. The chief was a good guy and, despite his jovial, laid-back management style, hed already proved himself to be a good cop.

Whether being a good guy and a good cop would be enough to unravel decades of bad practices, indifference and systematic corruption at the Bitterwood P.D. was a question that had yet to be answered.

* * *

DOYLES NEW HOME turned out to be a two-story log cabin nestled in a small, wooded hollow at the end of Laurel Road. It looked like one of those fancy tourists cabins you could find a dime a dozen in the Smokies, with names like Eagles Nest, Black Bear Lodge and Creekview. A large gravel parking area in front of the house suggested that at one time, at least, the cabin had been used for that very purpose.

A wide wooden porch with rustic log rails spanned the front of the house. After retrieving her suitcase and overnight bag from the trunk of her Chevy, she climbed the three shallow steps to the porch and pulled the keys Doyle had given her from the pocket of her jacket.

Seconds from sliding the key into the lock, she heard a noise from inside the cabin.

She fumbled behind her back for her Glock 17 and remembered, with frustration, that shed packed it in her overnight bag, not wanting to be armed at her brothers engagement party. Setting the bag down as quietly as she could, she crouched and worked open the side zipper, where shed put her empty Glock and a pair of loaded magazines. Sliding the magazine into the Glock, she chambered a round and tried the door.

Unlocked.

Suddenly, the door flew open. With her hand still on the knob, she overbalanced and staggered through the opening, slamming face-first into something hard and alive.

Whoever hit her kept moving, shoving backward. Wheeling her arms to regain her balance bought her only enough time to hit the log rail with her shoulders instead of the back of her head, not that it saved her much in the way of pain. The crack of bone against wood sent painful tingles shooting down both arms, and the Glock bounced away from her suddenly nerveless fingers, skittering across the porch. The back of her head scraped against the second rail as she hit her tailbone with a jarring thud.

She scrambled for the dropped weapon, but by the time she closed her hands around the grip, the two dark figures running away across the front yard entered the woods and disappeared almost immediately into the gloom.

Grimacing with pain, she sat up and assessed her condition. Shed have a big bruise across her shoulders in the morning and a lump on the back of her head. Plus, shed broken a heel on a brand-new pair of shoes. But it could have been much worse.

She could have been dead.

She entered the cabin with care, finding the light switch next to the door and flicking it on. To her surprise, the living room seemed virtually untouched by the intruders shed just startled.

The same could not be said for the next room she checked. It was a corner room with big windows looking out on the dark woods. In the daytime, she supposed, the windows would probably let in a lot of light, which was probably why Doyle had chosen this particular space as his home office.

Here the intruders had concentrated their efforts. All of the drawers had been pulled out of the walnut desk against the wall, their contents lying scattered across the hardwood floor. File cabinets stood open, spilling papers and files haphazardly from their metal depths. A framed photograph lay torn in its broken frame, a jigsaw puzzle of glass covering the floor in front of it. On the wall above, there was a combination safe. It remained safely shut, though clearly someone had tried to crack the code.

Dana backed out of the study and checked the rest of the house. The kitchen drawers had all been opened and searched, some of their contents now lying in a jumble on the counter and floor. Likewise, Doyles bedroom had been tossed, an explosion of clothes covering every available surface, thrown aside to assist a thorough search of the chest of drawers by the bed. A second bedroom had received similar treatment, although the mess there was limited because all the drawers and the closet were empty.

Back in Doyles bedroom, Dana moved aside a faded Lynyrd Skynyrd T-shirt and sank on the end of the bed, pulling out her phone to dial 911. But before she pressed the first number, she changed her mind and called another number instead.

Natalie Cooper answered on the second ring. Dana. Hi.

Hi. Are you still at the hospital?

Yeah. The doctor just stopped in to reassure us that Doyle was doing fine. Theyre letting him wake up a little more from the reduction and then theyll put him in a regular room.

Good, she said, genuinely relieved. Her little brother was strong and tough, but things could still go wrong during any medical procedure. By any chance is Walker Nix still there?

Tall, dark and silent? Natalie asked, lowering her voice a little.

Thats the one.

Hes across the room staring stoically out the window, Natalie answered in a wry tone. Why?

I need him to call me as soon as possible. Give him my cell number.

Is something wrong?

Dana didnt know how to answer that question without potentially sucking Doyles old friend and former partner into a procedural mess, so she hedged. Nothing big. I just need to ask Detective Nix something about an ongoing investigation Doyles been involved with. Can you give him my message?

Sure. Natalie hung up and Dana ended the call from her own end, trying not to be immediately impatient for the callback.

It came before she started chewing her nails. Natalie Cooper said you wanted me to call you? Nixs gravelly voice rumbled like distant thunder across the telephone line.

I know youre there to guard Doyle and Laney, Dana said, already beginning to second-guess her decision to bypass emergency response. Never mind. Ill figure out something else.

Wait, Nix said before she could end the call. Somethings wrong.

Yeah, she admitted, looking at the chaos surrounding her in Doyles bedroom. Somethings very wrong.

* * *

DESPITE THE CHAOTIC condition of the chiefs study, it was the bloody mass of hair at the back of Dana Masseys head that drew Nixs immediate attention. Your head is bleeding.

Dana turned away from the mess and lifted her hand to the back of her head, looking surprised to find blood on her fingers. I didnt realize.

She looked a little stunned all the way around, Nix thought. She might be a tough lady, but nobody could walk in on a burglary in progress and not be affected. That shed had the presence of mind to snap a bunch of photos with her cell phone was notable enough. That shed done it with a goose egg on the back of her head was damned near amazing.

Am I dripping blood all over the crime scene? she asked.

No, seems to be oozing, mostly. Its in your hair and on your shirt.

Damn it! This blouse is silk.

Ive called a TBI unit in to process the place. The Tennessee Bureau of Investigation offered crime scene investigation for small departments that didnt have the manpower or need for a full-time evidence-retrieval staff.

She frowned. At this time of night?

Its not their usual procedure on a nonviolent case, but with your brothers crash and the possible connection to Merritt Cortland

Yeah, she said with a nod. I guess that might light a fire under them.

Why dont we clear out and go somewhere until they can come in and do their work?

The burglars might come back.

So well wait for the TBI on the front porch and Ill see what I can do about that bump on your head.

She gave him a look of frustration that he interpreted as irritation that she hadnt caught the intruders single-handedly when she had the chance. He stifled a smile and led her out to the front porch, settling her on the steps while he went to his car to retrieve a first aid kit. When he came back, she had unzipped her bag and was trading out her pumps for a pair of tennis shoes. She waved one of the pumps at him, displaying a broken heel, before she shoved it into her bag.

She sighed and turned the back of her head toward him to give him better access. How bad is it?

Not too bad, really, he said after hed used some antiseptic to clean the abraded area on the back of her head. Did they hit you with something?

She waved her hand toward the porch railing. They knocked me back into the railing. I hit my head on the bottom rail on the way down. I thought it was just a little bump.

It is. Its just a bloody one. He applied some antibiotic ointment to the scrape, trying to ignore the way her lightly floral perfume was making his blood run hot. Her hair was thick but soft, sliding over his fingers with the same sensuous texture as warm silk. Her skin was velvety and fragrant, tempting him to bury his face in the curve of her neck and just breathe.

Hed never been a man prone to indulging his every sexual whim, but this particular dose of desire was taking a toll on his legendary self-control, and she wasnt even showing that much skin or giving him any indication that she found him equally attractive.

He backed away, giving himself room to breathe. I think the bleedings stopped now. But that shirt may be beyond hope.

She turned on the porch step to face him. Thanks.

Something intriguing glittered in her eyes, pale and mysterious in the moonlight trickling through the trees. Nix knew it would be folly to speculate what that intriguing something might be. But hed never been any good at turning his back on a puzzle. Especially one that smelled like wildflowers.

The TBI van came rumbling down the road and parked behind Danas dark green Chevy Malibu. Nix recognized one of the evidence techs as a man hed known during his time in the marine corps. He dug in his memory and came up with PFC Brady Moreland. He and Moreland had been at Stone Bay, Camp Lejeune, at the same time about eight years earlier. He and the private had played pool together a few times at Maggies Drawers, the rec center at Stone Bay.

Private Moreland, he said aloud as the younger man approached.

Moreland, to his amusement, came close to snapping to attention before his expression shifted with recognition, and a grin spread over his face. Sarge!

They shook hands with pleasure; then Nix got down to business, introducing Dana and letting her explain what shed walked in on.

It happened too quickly for me to get much of a look at the intruders, she said with regret. I think they were wearing gloves, but I cant be sure.

Its okay, the other evidence technician, who introduced himself as Blalock, assured her. If theres anything here to find, well find it.

Dana watched them enter the house, looking as if she wanted to tag along for the search. Nix distracted her by picking up her suitcase, which still lay on its side on the porch.

I can get that, Dana said, but Nix waved her off.

Ive got it.

You seem awfully interested in getting me away from here, she said in a tone that was just short of suspicious. He supposed he couldnt blame her for being wary of someone shed met only a couple of hours earlier under less-than-pleasant circumstances.

Mostly, Im interested in getting us both somewhere a little warmer.

She looked as if she wanted to argue, but headlights appeared in the dark, moving toward them on the narrow, dead-end road. The unmistakable shape of a Ford Mustang finally came into view. Laney Hanvey, Nix thought as the black Mustang squeezed into the narrow space between the TBI van and Nixs truck.

The lady herself got out of the Mustang and hurried to where he and Dana stood on the porch, her gaze widening as she took in Danas bloodied condition. My God, did they attack you?

Not on purpose, Dana assured her, though Nix thought she was probably glossing over the violence of what had happened to her. I just got bowled over and hit the porch rail.

I should take you to the hospital, get you checked out.

No, Dana said quickly. Im fine, really. It looks worse than it is.

Hows the chief? Nix asked.

Groggy. The doctor wants him to stay a day or two, maybe get some rehab for the leg. You can imagine his delight. Laney made a face, but Nix could tell that she was relieved that her fiancé was feeling well enough to complain. The break-in just gave me an excuse to make him obey his doctors orders. She glanced at the front door, which the technicians had finally shut, probably to keep out the cold. How bad is it?

A big mess in some rooms, Dana answered. Not so bad in the others.

Was anything missing?

Im not sure. Dana looked apologetic. Youd probably know better than I would.

I think Ill stick around, then, see what the technicians come up with. Dana, if youd like to stay at my place tonight, youre welcome. Its over in Barrowville, but thats actually closer to the hospital.

I dont want to put you out

Ill be going back to the hospital when Im through here, Laney said with a shrug. Youre welcome to my guest room. The beds already made up. You can help yourself to anything you can find in the kitchen.

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