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Smoky Mountain Investigation. Annslee UrbanЧитать онлайн книгу.

Smoky Mountain Investigation - Annslee Urban


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when my parents retired and moved to Charlotte to care for my grandfather.”

      “That’s right. I heard Steven had been in an accident.”

      “Yep. Fell off a bicycle. He rode off a trail trying to impress some new girlfriend with his agile riding skills. Tumbled about twenty feet before briar bushes cushioned his fall.”

      Kylie winced. “Not much of a cushion.”

      Nick shook his head. “No, not hardly. He broke his left femur and ankle, dislocated his shoulder, and worst of all, the girlfriend ditched him.”

      “So sorry.”

      “Kind of ironic.” He chuckled. “I’ve dodged bullets in the heaviest war zones in the world and he almost kills himself falling off a bike.”

      “I’m sure you’re not going to let him forget that.”

      Another chuckle. “No way.”

      She hated to ask, but she did. “Any special someone in your life?”

      When Nick paused, her heart gave an irrational thump. Her rotten day took another nosedive. Kylie picked up her drink and took a sip, feigning nonchalance. She wanted to be apathetic about Nick, distanced from the pain of a teenager’s broken heart. Whatever infatuation they’d shared had died along with Conrad. It was time to grow up and move—

      “No one special,” he finally blurted.

      Her heart danced in her chest. She looked up and caught him staring at her. His firm mouth twitched into a smile, deepening the glint in his rich dark eyes.

      Heat rose up Kylie’s neck. She hoped he couldn’t read her mind. She managed a stiff smile. “Well, there’s still time. You’re not over-the-hill yet, either.” Crazy to even care.

      Silence stretched between them.

      She set down her cup and leaned a fraction closer, ready to change the conversation to something less personal. “Tell me about the army.”

      “The army.” Nick smiled slightly. Settling back in his seat, he linked his hands behind his head. “Let’s see. I served ten years. During that time, I witnessed too much war, too much destruction and too much death.”

      Images of recent news-broadcast footage assembled in Kylie’s mind. Her heartbeat stumbled. She couldn’t believe Nick had been in the middle of that. “Delta Forces, I hear. Pretty intense?”

      He nodded his head. “Could be. Even brutal at times. But good came out of it. Lives were saved.”

      Admiration for his commitment filled her chest. “Will you be going back?”

      “Nope. I’ve done my time.”

      Kylie smiled; she couldn’t help it. “Well, you’re quite the hero around here.”

      “Hero.” Nick straightened in his chair. His jovial expression turned stormy. “Hero is the last thing I’ll ever be around here.”

      * * *

      “The story is yours, Kylie.” Max shifted his stance and pulled open the file drawer.

      “But Doug Landers is ready to jump in.” Kylie fought off a sigh. “At the moment, I can’t even differentiate between facts and emotions.”

      Max pulled several folders from the cabinet and shut the drawer with a clink. “Use it to your advantage. Make the story real. Passion, pain, every emotion will bleed through the pages and grip the readers.”

      Great. Kylie exhaled, blowing out slowly. “Reporters are supposed to be objective, Max, not part of the story. I’ll be happy to consult, edit Doug’s draft and even give an interview.”

      “It’s yours, Kylie.” Max tossed the files on his desk. “Keep it real. Keep it fresh. Keep it coming. Hopefully, the madman will call again.”

      “Uh, thanks. But once was plenty.”

      “By the way, I contacted the Asheville police this morning. They’ve got some newsworthy facts waiting for you.”

      “Wonderful.” Kylie turned and plodded out the door, praying for patience and a speedy resolution to this murder.

      She headed outside and into the bright afternoon sunshine. Max was even crazier than usual. Hoping the killer would call again. She shivered at the thought.

      Kylie was still wrestling with annoyance when she parked in front of the municipal building. She pulled her notepad from her satchel and got out of the car. Taking a deep breath, she hiked up her chin and squared her shoulders. Okay. She could do this. She segued into reporter mode, forcing her attention from all discomforting thoughts. If she had to do this assignment, she’d give it her best. She hiked her purse higher on her shoulder and walked into the building.

      In the main lobby, she checked in with the clerk and wound her way down the first-floor hall, which teemed with attorneys and their clients, catching snatches of agitated conversation on her way to the elevator. She stepped in and punched the button to the fourth floor. The elevator started to rise, lurched, then ground to a halt. The lights blinked off.

      Blackness filled Kylie’s view. Okay. She ordered herself to stay calm. She dug into her purse and captured her phone. With the touch of her finger the cell fired up. She used it as a light to locate the panel of buttons on the wall. She punched four. Nothing. Then she flipped the emergency switch. Same.

      Drumming her fingers against the side of her thigh, she waited. Auxiliary power should kick on any moment. Several long moments passed.

      She punched the floor button again. Gears screeched, the car rattled, no other movement.

      If maintenance was affected by the recent city budget cuts, she was quickly becoming a proponent for higher taxes.

      Kylie inhaled, the air already stuffy. She fumbled to punch 911 on her phone and held it to her ear. Silence. No service.

      With all the people in the building, maintenance had to have been notified by now. Reasonable thoughts, which rapidly deteriorated with each passing second.

      “Anytime now.” She spoke to the emptiness around her.

      Lights blinked on.

      “Thank you.” She drew in a breath of relief.

      The elevator edged up one floor before slamming to a halt, knocking Kylie off-balance. With arms flailing, she reached for the handrail to steady herself, but the car lurched again, the force so great that her feet went out from under her. She went down hard, her bare knees smashing into the floor. Darkness blinded her again.

      Lord, I’m getting nervous here. Kylie picked herself up. Clenching the handrail with one hand, she used the other to smooth her skirt.

      Pain searing through her, she grabbed for a calming breath.

      Music trickled into the car and broke the silence. Eerie and empty as the air around her.

      Her heartbeat picked up. For a breathless second, the horror of the previous night suffocated all logic. Never more than a heartbeat away...

      The caller’s words ripped through her mind. Panic bottled in her chest, making it hard to breathe. Was he close by? Could he be watching her?

      Calm down. She forced her breathing to slow. She’d watched too many old episodes of The Twilight Zone with her sister.

      A jolt, then emergency lights flickered on, casting a dull glow around her. The elevator started to rise, steadily ascending, passing the third floor, then the fourth. Kylie stared at the glowing numbers, willing the car to stop. It didn’t matter where, she was getting off.

      Halfway between the fifth and sixth floors, the elevator stalled.

      Patience evaporated, Kylie slammed her fingers into the buttons on the panel. The elevator inched upward.

      Please, Lord, help me get out of here.

      She


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