Linked (2 page)

She nodded. “I’m okay. I think.”

“Go on into the store and wait
for me, alright? I’m going to go see if he’s still around.”

He gave her a hang-in-there smile
and a pat on the arm before running in the direction from which she’d come. He
didn’t expect to find the guy, but if he could figure out which way he went or
where he came from, it might give the cops a place to start.

If she wanted to call the cops.

The thought made him cringe. He
hated dealing with the cops. They were the bane of his existence. They didn’t
like dealing with him, even though he was a private investigator and one of the
good guys. Well, too bad for them. He was involved—whether the cops, or the
pretty little thing at the store, liked it or not.

The edge of the woods and the
area he’d seen the woman running in showed no recent sign of foot traffic,
other than his own.

It had rained the day before, and
if anyone had been there, he should have found tracks in the mud. As it stood,
the only tracks he found belonged to the woman at the convenience store.

Damn, what’d the bastard do?
Disappear into thin air? He frowned. There wouldn’t be anything to show the
cops.

If he had the time, he would have
shape shifted, but she was still waiting for him at the store and likely
terrified.

How did the guy just seem to
vanish off the face of the earth in a matter of seconds? He couldn’t explain
that one. Yet.

Another niggling feeling pricked
at him as he performed one more walk-by of the area, looking for clues he might
have missed. Something was missing. At the moment, he didn’t know what exactly,
but he wouldn’t drop it until he had some answers.

She might not know it, but she
would have a shadow until he found them. He wasn’t one to leave a puzzle
unsolved.

“Did you find anything?” she
asked as soon as he walked back to the store. Her tone was still anxious, but
stronger than before.

He shook his head and frowned.
“Nothing at all.”

A sigh escaped her lips. “I
appreciate you looking, Mr…?”

Cole extended his hand. “My
name’s Cole Thomas, ma’am.”

“Thank you. I’m Lana. Lana
Summers.” She shook his hand, her grip surprisingly strong. “I suppose I should
go see if anything is missing.”

Well, that told him that it
wasn’t likely a domestic problem, and since it was an apartment building, he
was guessing someone had broken in.

Part of him was glad she didn’t
look too happy about it going to check on her own. He was going to help, and
the look on her face said she didn’t really want to go look by herself. “Would
you mind if I went along with you, just to make sure there’s no one around?”

She studied him for a moment,
wariness clear in her eyes. He didn’t mind, though. Had someone just broken
into his house and chased him down, he’d probably be a tad suspicious of
strangers, too.

After a moment of silence, he
almost bet her answer would be no.

“No, I would appreciate that,
thank you.”

Cole gestured for her to lead the
way and took hold of her elbow. “How bad is the ankle?”

“It’s not bad. I can walk on it,
so it’s not broken.” She attempted a smile, but it fell short. “Some ice and
aspirin and it’ll be good as new. I just landed on it wrong.”

He didn’t agree or disagree, but
decided he’d check the damage for himself at the first opportunity.

“Mr. Thomas—”

“Cole. Please, call me Cole,” he
said.

This time she managed to smile
and it almost reached her eyes. “Cole,” she repeated, “I really appreciate your
help. I could be polite and say that you don’t have to go with me, but I
won’t.”

He laughed. “That’s quite
alright. I’m just glad I can help, ma’am.”

Lana stopped and gave him a look.
“If I’m going to call you Cole, then the least you could do is call me Lana.
‘Ma’am’ makes me sound old.”

“Lana it is, then,” he said with
a chuckle. “You’ve got some sense of humor, considering the circumstances.” He
glanced over, noticed she’d crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you cold?”

She turned her head in his
direction, startled. “What? Oh, no. I’m fine, it’s just….”

He nodded. He’d begun to wonder
how a woman could act so nonchalant about having her house broken into and
having a man chase her down. Hell, most men would have either panicked or done
something stupid and ended up hurt—and he wasn’t being sexist. She’d gotten her
butt in gear and escaped. Which posed another good question….

“Just how did you get out of your
apartment?”

She turned to face him. “I woke
up a minute before I heard footsteps, and then I realized someone was in my
apartment, so I jumped out of the window.”

He whistled. “Out of the window?
No wonder you hurt your ankle. Quick thinking, I might add.”

“Thanks.” She paused in front of
a door. “This is my apartment.”

“Bet you’re glad you picked a
ground floor apartment.”

It was her turn to laugh. “Yes, I
am. And it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact carrying furniture up
flights of stairs is a pain.”

Lana grabbed the doorknob and
turned. “Crap,” she hissed under her breath and swung back around, a look of absolute
disgust on her face. “I don’t have my keys. If you could give me a boost to get
back in through my window, I’d appreciate it.”

She started to walk past him, but
he placed his hand on her arm. “I’ll go. You don’t need to walk on that ankle
any more than necessary and we’re not sure it’s safe.” It was an order, one
he’d make sure she followed, but she didn’t need to know that.

He saw the hesitation in her eyes
as she thought over what he said. Finally, she sighed. “You’re probably right.”

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,”
he said and jogged his way to the back of the building.

Why did her window have to be so
high? He could shift, but that was always dicey out in the open, and he didn’t
take unnecessary risks unless he absolutely had to.

As he studied the wall, he
noticed a small space where a brick had been broken or fallen out. Using that
for a foothold, he boosted himself up and climbed in through the open window.

Since she didn’t have her keys,
there would be no way for her to get in until he let her in. Knowing he may not
get another opportunity, he took a deep breath and imagined the animal he
needed to become. Ignoring the pain, he shifted quickly into his tiger.

Somehow, the intruder had hidden
his tracks, but it wasn’t as easy to hide his scent.

He didn’t have long before she
would expect him to let her in, so he moved fast, sniffing around the room.
He’d been inside less than a minute and knew, without question, that the only
human scent belonged to Lana. Lavender, soap—nothing else.

Quickly, he checked the rest of
her apartment, going room-by-room, still puzzling over the fact that the only
smells he came across in the entire place belonged to her. Someone had been in
her apartment, she’d said. Considering he’d seen the person chasing after her,
he really didn’t think she had lied.

This was wrong, dreadfully wrong.
There must’ve been something more sinister going on than a bungled burglary or
attempted rape. This was getting deeper and deeper by the minute. He should
have smelled some other scent—anything. So why hadn’t he?

Trying one last time, he held
still, his back completely rigid. His nose moved from side to side as his
nostrils flared, his ears taut, listening for sounds that didn’t belong.

Nothing.

Did she know more than she let
on? If she didn’t, should he keep it that way and investigate it quietly on the
side, or should he question her more and find out if she was hiding anything?

On a frustrated growl, he changed
back into human form. He still had no answers, just a stockpile of new questions.

“I was afraid someone might have
still been inside,” Lana commented when he opened the door. The corner of her
mouth twitched. “Well, that or you just weren’t going to let me in.”

“No, just being cautious.” He
grinned widely. “Why? Did you miss me?”

Lana tilted her chin up in a
silent challenge. “Maybe.”

He threw his head back and
laughed. “You know, Lana, I do believe I like your style and sense of humor.”

She chuckled. “Who said I was
joking?”

Without thinking, he reached out
and brushed a hand slowly down her cheek. “I do like you,” he decided. It was
the truth, but he still had a nagging feeling that he was missing something
important. He’d be damned if he wasn’t going to figure it out.

“I like you, too.” She paused, a
serious look on her face. “Did you find anything?”

“Do you think I could get a
drink?” he asked, evading her question.

“Oh, of course. We can go sit in
the kitchen.” She walked into the kitchen. “Is coffee okay, or would you prefer
something else?”

He followed and leaned against
the doorjamb. “Coffee sounds great.”

CHAPTER TWO

What exactly was she thinking
inviting a stranger into her house? Well, inviting him could be taken as a bit
of an overstatement. He pretty much handled that himself, but she probably
would have asked him anyway.

His eyes were… she couldn’t
describe it. They were intriguing, she admitted, unique. The way the green and
blue swirled together like the edge of a storm over the ocean.

Still, there was more, too.
Something that called to her, pulled at her, screamed that she should trust
him.

She sighed as she retrieved
coffee cups from the cupboard, and after sitting them on the counter, she
started the coffee. The last thing she needed in her life right now was another
complication. Especially one in the form of tall, dark and dreamy. She started
to pick up the cups on the counter again to bring them to the table.

“Need some help?”

“What?” She turned fast and
rapped her head against the open cupboard door. “Ouch!”

“I’m sorry.” Cole took the cups
from her hand and set them on the counter. His hand brushed against her sore
temple. Instinctively, she held her breath. The touch was smooth, electrifying.
Unexpected.

After taking a small step back,
she picked up the coffee mug he’d taken from her and held it between her palms.
There had to be a barrier between them—anything.

She retreated to the fridge and
cleared her throat. “Do you need milk? Sugar? Cream?”

“Black is fine,” he replied.

He watched her intently as she
filled the cups and brought them to the table, then sat back down. His look
could only be called pondering. “What?” she asked, a little flustered.

“Do you have any idea what’s
going on here?” he asked at length.

Resigned, she sighed. There was
no point in asking what he meant. She smiled and tried to keep her voice light.
“Probably nothing you would believe.”

Cole’s eyebrow rose in silent
inquiry. He gave her a steady look when she didn’t elaborate. “Try me.”

Her spine stiffened at his
commanding tone. “I don’t know the first thing about you,” she said pointedly.

“That’s true, you don’t, and you
have no reason to trust me or take my word for anything. But if it helps, I’m a
private investigator, and I’ll help you. If you give me the chance to.” He
paused for a moment. “Will you let me look at that ankle?”

The refusal sat on the tip of her
tongue, but she changed her mind. She lifted the bottom of her pajama pants,
revealing her slightly swollen ankle.

Cole lifted her foot, careful not
to jar it, and lay it on his leg. He rubbed the side of her ankle with gentle hands,
softly caressing. “You’re right; I don’t think anything’s broken. It’s likely
sprained, but I don’t think there’s enough swelling for a break. Some ice would
be good,” he told her, carefully moving her foot from his lap and setting it on
the ground. Without a word, he got up, grabbed a bag of corn out of her freezer
and wrapped it in the dishtowel from the edge of the counter.

He sat back down, pulled her
ankle back into his lap and rested the makeshift icepack against her ankle.

The frozen bag of corn molded
around her ankle and helped the pain, but his hand on her ankle felt better.

His actions went far beyond the
work of Good Samaritan. He’d actually gone looking for the guy with no regard
for his own safety. For something to do, she picked up her coffee and was
amazed to find her hands shook. She took a deep breath, hoping to calm her
nerves. “It started two months ago with my mother’s death.”

His eyes softened. “I’m sorry,”
he said quietly. “Do you mind if I ask what happened?”

“She was murdered.” Her voice and
eyes held a flame of bitterness that she didn’t try to extinguish. “But the
coroner ruled it a suicide.”

“How did she die?”

“They thought it might have been
a heart attack originally, but during the autopsy they found a lethal level of
potassium…something.”

“Was it from a prescribed
medication?”

“Yes. Her doctor told her to take
it because her potassium had been low at one of her checkups.”

“You don’t believe it was a
suicide.” It wasn’t a question.

“No,” she answered fiercely. “My
mother would not have killed herself. She loved life.” She gave him a hard
look, daring him to argue with her. “You said you wanted to help. You can’t do
that if you don’t believe me.”

“Tell me what you think
happened.”

“It’s not even that I have
another theory. I just know—knew my mother, and she would not have killed
herself. I don’t care what the cops believe, or the coroner’s report, she just
wouldn’t have done that.”

“And tonight’s break-in? Do you
think they’re connected?”

“I don’t see how they could be,
but at the same time, I don’t really believe in coincidence.”