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Authors: Annslee Urban
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over again. Unfortunately, I keep coming up with the same thing.”
He quirked a brow.
“Nothing.”
His thick, bushy brows dropped flat like a slash over his eyes. “Okay, then make me a list of old boyfriends. Long relationships, short, it doesn’t matter.”
That was an easy assignment. Kylie gestured with her cup toward Nick. “There you go.”
Nick straightened from his slouch at the counter, his brows lifted. “I’m not sure how to take that. Was I that bad of a boyfriend that you were afraid to try again, or have I just been too hard to replace?” A chuckle underscored his words and Kylie wasn’t about to go there.
At least not today.
She set her cup down with a clink and shrugged. “College kept me busy. And now, between work and church activities, I don’t have time for a relationship.”
Kylie fought not to cringe. That sounded lame even to her own ears.
“Right,” Dave grunted. He eyed her for a split second, then tossed a notepad and pen on the table. “Make me a list of the men that have showed some interest in you. Maybe you brushed one of them off, offended them somehow. Consider your circle of friends, neighbors, online buddies, even coworkers.”
“Men that I’ve known for the last ten years?”
“Time frame doesn’t matter. Criminals like this can be resourceful when something intrigues them.”
Kylie brushed hair from her face. “You’re asking me to remember everyone who ever made a pass at me?” As a journalist, she had met and mingled with men in all lines of work all over the area. Flirting wasn’t unusual, nor was an invitation to meet them for dinner or a drink. “No, thanks” was her common reply. She never mixed business with pleasure.
Nick whistled softly between his teeth. “Must be a bunch.” He leaned a shoulder against the side of the kitchen cupboards and crossed his arms.
The smirk on his face brought a warm flush to her cheeks. This man was too cute for his own good—and hers. She took the last swig of cold tea, hoping he couldn’t read her mind or her heart.
She needed to get a grip, plain and simple. But having Nick around triggered a host of emotions. At the moment those feelings overrode logic.
“Do your best, Kylie. We have to start somewhere.” Dave gave the table a firm slap before he pushed back his chair and stood.
“I’ll try, Dave. Thanks for all your—”
The brisk ring of a cell phone stopped Kylie midsentence. Her heart lurched. Irrational fear coursed through every vessel.
Dave retrieved his phone from his belt clip and pressed it to his ear. “Detective Dave Michelson here.”
A short conversation ensued, the gist of which eluded Kylie.
“Thanks, I appreciate the information.” Dave snapped his phone off. A frown drifted across his features.
“That was Tom Walden at the coroner’s office. Preliminary autopsy reports are in on the first victim.”
“And what did they find?” Kylie straightened.
Dave shifted his weight and slid his cell into his phone holster. “It seems that on the night of Tucker’s murder, he was quite intoxicated. In fact, his blood-alcohol level was five times the legal limit.”
“Five times?” Kylie echoed. “How would he even function?”
“Good question,” Nick piped up. “In fact, he probably couldn’t. He may not have even been conscious when he was killed. Isn’t that correct, Detective?”
Dave tilted his head, gave a shrug. “That’s possible.”
“An easy target.” Nick shook his head. “This kind of creep preys on the helpless.”
“Helpless? I hope that’s not what he thinks I am,” Kylie muttered, more to herself than to anyone else, trying to make sense of it all.
A grimace took hold of Nick’s lips. “No. It’s more personal than that. You’ve somehow captured his attention.”
“Wonderful.” She sighed.
She’d only ever wanted one man’s attention. And right now his dark liquid eyes held hers. A prickly heat rose up her neck. Shaking it off, she
He quirked a brow.
“Nothing.”
His thick, bushy brows dropped flat like a slash over his eyes. “Okay, then make me a list of old boyfriends. Long relationships, short, it doesn’t matter.”
That was an easy assignment. Kylie gestured with her cup toward Nick. “There you go.”
Nick straightened from his slouch at the counter, his brows lifted. “I’m not sure how to take that. Was I that bad of a boyfriend that you were afraid to try again, or have I just been too hard to replace?” A chuckle underscored his words and Kylie wasn’t about to go there.
At least not today.
She set her cup down with a clink and shrugged. “College kept me busy. And now, between work and church activities, I don’t have time for a relationship.”
Kylie fought not to cringe. That sounded lame even to her own ears.
“Right,” Dave grunted. He eyed her for a split second, then tossed a notepad and pen on the table. “Make me a list of the men that have showed some interest in you. Maybe you brushed one of them off, offended them somehow. Consider your circle of friends, neighbors, online buddies, even coworkers.”
“Men that I’ve known for the last ten years?”
“Time frame doesn’t matter. Criminals like this can be resourceful when something intrigues them.”
Kylie brushed hair from her face. “You’re asking me to remember everyone who ever made a pass at me?” As a journalist, she had met and mingled with men in all lines of work all over the area. Flirting wasn’t unusual, nor was an invitation to meet them for dinner or a drink. “No, thanks” was her common reply. She never mixed business with pleasure.
Nick whistled softly between his teeth. “Must be a bunch.” He leaned a shoulder against the side of the kitchen cupboards and crossed his arms.
The smirk on his face brought a warm flush to her cheeks. This man was too cute for his own good—and hers. She took the last swig of cold tea, hoping he couldn’t read her mind or her heart.
She needed to get a grip, plain and simple. But having Nick around triggered a host of emotions. At the moment those feelings overrode logic.
“Do your best, Kylie. We have to start somewhere.” Dave gave the table a firm slap before he pushed back his chair and stood.
“I’ll try, Dave. Thanks for all your—”
The brisk ring of a cell phone stopped Kylie midsentence. Her heart lurched. Irrational fear coursed through every vessel.
Dave retrieved his phone from his belt clip and pressed it to his ear. “Detective Dave Michelson here.”
A short conversation ensued, the gist of which eluded Kylie.
“Thanks, I appreciate the information.” Dave snapped his phone off. A frown drifted across his features.
“That was Tom Walden at the coroner’s office. Preliminary autopsy reports are in on the first victim.”
“And what did they find?” Kylie straightened.
Dave shifted his weight and slid his cell into his phone holster. “It seems that on the night of Tucker’s murder, he was quite intoxicated. In fact, his blood-alcohol level was five times the legal limit.”
“Five times?” Kylie echoed. “How would he even function?”
“Good question,” Nick piped up. “In fact, he probably couldn’t. He may not have even been conscious when he was killed. Isn’t that correct, Detective?”
Dave tilted his head, gave a shrug. “That’s possible.”
“An easy target.” Nick shook his head. “This kind of creep preys on the helpless.”
“Helpless? I hope that’s not what he thinks I am,” Kylie muttered, more to herself than to anyone else, trying to make sense of it all.
A grimace took hold of Nick’s lips. “No. It’s more personal than that. You’ve somehow captured his attention.”
“Wonderful.” She sighed.
She’d only ever wanted one man’s attention. And right now his dark liquid eyes held hers. A prickly heat rose up her neck. Shaking it off, she
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