Alaskan Mountain Pursuit Elizabeth Goddard (best short novels .TXT) 📖

“So we’re at another dead end for now though.” Summer didn’t sugarcoat things, did she? While he wished he could soften the blow of what she’d already realized, Clay appreciated that about her.

“At the moment. But I think we’re close.”

“Why do you think so?”

He shifted his weight to face her and waited until he was sure he had her attention. “I think he is afraid you can identify him.”

She stood. Paced. “Why do you think that?”

He stayed seated on the couch but watched her carefully, tensing every time she walked in front of a window. That might be an overreaction on his part—no one else involved in the investigation would agree with his tension there...but then again, no one else had seen how well the guy after them could shoot.

“He’s changed how he’s coming after you. That’s unexpected. I think you have him rattled.”

“But you saw the sketch APD did. He wore a mask, Clay, I don’t know who he is.”

“So maybe it’s his voice that he thinks you could identify. But he wouldn’t go to this much trouble to kill you if you hadn’t become a threat.”

“Isn’t that the very definition of a serial killer? Someone who tries to kill other people?”

“Sure, but think about it. He killed those other women with a knife, the same way he initially tried to kill you.”

She nodded slowly. “Okay. But he’s not doing that anymore. And you think that’s significant?”

“I’m sure it is. Serial killers fit a profile, they play by their own set of rules. Even though they obviously have extreme issues, what they do makes sense to them. They tend to follow patterns even more so than other criminals. He has broken his. It must be for a reason.”

“I did notice things had escalated. Tracking me down to my home, almost being run off the road, being shot at multiple different times...”

“It’s not about his usual motives anymore. Now he just wants you dead.”

“Wow, don’t beat around the bush at all, Clay.”

“You can take it.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because you’re the strongest woman I know.”

Summer didn’t know how to react, not to Clay’s words or his nearness. Sometime in the span of a few minutes he’d ended up shifting over to where she sat on the couch and now she was leaning in his direction. Eight more inches and she could kiss him.

Six.

Four. She held there, met his eyes and swallowed hard as she tried to decide what she wanted, what he wanted, what she was doing.

Clay lowered his chin, just slightly. But enough for Summer to tell that her unspoken “kiss me” invitation might be getting an answer.

She jerked backward. “We should go down to the station and tell Noah what we came up with.”

Clay hadn’t moved, hadn’t backed up or apologized for his part in the almost kiss. Not that she wanted him to. Not that she wanted him to acknowledge it, either.

Summer stood, brushed her hair, which had fallen in her face as she’d leaned toward Clay, behind her ear and straightened her shoulders. “We’ll drive your truck, then, right? Since my car is...”

“Yes.”

She hurried outside, even more flustered by the calmness in Clay’s voice. Did nothing rattle him?

Maybe not, and not that many things rattled her. But the way she still felt drawn to Clay, the way he still seemed like he might share those feelings even after she’d told him all she had...

Neither of them said much on the way into town, but much to Summer’s surprise the silence wasn’t awkward. Just full. Like there was so much to say and neither of them wanted to say it. Summer knew they’d eventually have to finish the conversation she’d started in the woods if there was ever going to be anything between them. Not that Clay had said there was, and besides, wasn’t he leaving?

Summer walked with Clay into the building and took a deep breath. Reliving this over and over was getting a little easier, but that didn’t mean it was objectively easy. The fact was she couldn’t stop looking over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching, if anyone was waiting to attack. Because this was actually her real life. Where someone wanted her dead.

“Summer. Clay.” Noah was walking past the door as soon as they walked in and immediately turned to face them. “Did you come to talk to me? I was just on the phone with the troopers and was about to call you. They recovered Summer’s car. No indication it’s been messed with since you left it.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe that meant they didn’t have to process the car’s contents and no one would notice the notebook?

Noah frowned. “They wanted me to ask you why you have so much information about the case in a notebook?”

Summer looked at Clay. They both looked back at Noah but neither said anything.

“We’d better go to my office.”

They followed him there. Summer ran her hand over her forehead, trying to do anything to ease the tension that had developed when Noah said they had the notebook. How did they explain that?

“Don’t be mad, Noah,” Summer said as soon as he’d shut the door behind them, before either she or Clay had even had the chance to sit down.

“I don’t know what exactly I’d be mad about. I just don’t understand why the two of you seem to be conducting some kind of unofficial investigation.”

There wasn’t much worse than getting caught doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing. Especially by Noah. Because when he wasn’t working, wasn’t worried about a serial killer terrorizing his town, he was laid-back and funny. But the sense of humor all but disappeared under the pressure of the job.

“I’ll explain,” Clay started. Summer was more than willing to let him do so. She leaned back a little in the chair.

“We’re not interfering,” he continued, “and we haven’t done anything illegal or unethical.”

“Not telling me what you were up to dances close to both of those.”

“Maybe