Literally Stalked Read online

  All heat left my face.

  “That Frank?” Alex asked, focused. “Where does he say to go?”

  I swallowed, willing my throat to unclench and allow words, breath, anything, through.

  After a quick glance at me, Alex pulled onto the shoulder of the road. “What is it, Pepper?”

  Trying again to speak, I only managed a squeak, and then shoved the phone in Alex’s direction, so he could read for himself.

  He swore under his breath, the light from his phone illuminating the worry etched on his face.

  “The Woodcrest mansion?” His voice was tight. “As in…?”

  I nodded, the tumult in my stomach only worsening. “Cole.”

  Alex repositioned his hands like he was getting ready to pull a U-turn. “I’m taking you home.”

  “No,” I said, reaching out to grab the wheel. With my free hand I pointed ahead to the street sign visible in the headlights. “That’s the turn. We’re right here. You’ll lose too much time if you drive back into town. I’ll be… fine.”

  My stomach flipped. I needed to know what happened, and the best way to do that was to stay with Alex, as much as dread pushed down on my shoulders.

  He passed a hand over his face, shaking his head as his thoughts seemed to wrestle with themselves. “Okay, but—”

  “Got it.” I interrupted. “Stay in the truck.”

  We sat in silence for a moment, watching the snow fall. Alex pulled back onto the road and took the next right, up the hill toward Woodcrest. His fingers gripped the steering wheel in a way I suspected had nothing to do with the snow sticking on the winding road.

  My heart traveled farther up my throat as we climbed our way up the foothill. Finally the huge, gothic mansion came into view. The first things noticeable were the many chimneys, rising out of the gabled roof. I’d always marveled at that as a child, unsure why anyone might need more than one fireplace. Anytime one of us kids mentioned them, Mr. Williams had jumped into a prepared-sounding speech about olden times and how each room used to need its own fireplace before heaters and central air were invented.

  The brick façade appeared cold and ominous, reminding me I hadn’t been here in years. Sure, the place was always visible from downtown, looming over the valley like a sentinel. But you got used to things like that and stopped looking up.

  My lungs burned from the lack of air, and I gulped in another breath as we pulled up to the circular driveway, joining the other officer vehicles. I recognized Alex’s father’s SUV, and I wondered if it had been Frank or Detective Valdez to message Alex during our dinner.

  Alex’s hand landed on mine, making me jump. He squeezed tight, his eyes holding me just as palpably.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  I nodded as he turned up the heat, leaving the truck running as he stepped outside. Alex pulled his sweatshirt over his head and grabbed a spare uniform, button-up shirt from a hanger in the small back seat. Like I said, the man was always prepared. He pulled a winter jacket over the top and gave me a wave as he closed the door.

  Alex strode over to where Frank and his father stood behind a line of police tape. Other officers were putting up a few pop-up coverings to keep the falling snow from compromising the scene. Frank appeared to be wearing a spare uniform as well, but unlike Alex’s, his had obviously been in a ball in the back of his car judging from its wrinkled state. Detective Valdez wore a long, winter overcoat, keeping with his usual look of a 1920s detective. As Alex ducked underneath the yellow tape, the two turned to meet him. When Alex gestured back toward the truck, his father peered over in question.

  I would’ve bet anything the next words out of his mouth were along the lines of, “Pepper’s in there? How’d you manage to keep her inside the truck?”

  Since the very first time we’d met years earlier, I’d been getting mixed up in the detective’s investigations, so I couldn’t really blame him.

  And as he raised his hand in a wave, my feet itched to take me out of the truck and over to join them. I needed to figure out who the victim was, needed to find out what had happened. But I knew my days following Alex to crime scenes would be long gone if I did that, so I stayed put.

  The silently falling snow accumulated on the windshield, creating a thickening layer to block my view. I could’ve turned on the wipers, but that would’ve made my snooping super evident.

  Luckily, I was a bookstore owner and an English major through and through, so I never went anywhere without a book or two. Pulling my copy of Jane Eyre from my bag, I clicked on the interior light and read hoping to distract myself. While I’d read the classic many times before—it being one of my favorites—I’d been combing through it again, this time searching for quotes to support my thesis. Our big Brontë sisters paper was in full swing for Dr. Ferguson.

  Opening to my current place, near the beginning of the novel, I read:

  … the black frost reigned, unbroken by sun or breeze, through the grounds…

  As poor young Jane was contemplating her empty life at Gateshead, I couldn’t help but find parallels in the bleak scenery we shared.

  The door to the truck opened, making me jump.

  Alex’s features were tight with an apology as he climbed in, putting his hands up to the heat pouring out of the vents. I closed my book, setting it in my lap, unable to ask the question.

  “I’m so sorry. It is Cole.” The words hung in the air between us like frozen breath, as if the heater wasn’t blasting and everything inside had become covered in ice. “I told them I would come back, but I need to get you home.”

  I almost protested, telling him there was no way I would get any sleep tonight knowing he was out here, knowing Cole was…

  “I just saw him, though,” I blurted out as Alex put the truck in reverse and turned on the wipers to clear off the snowy windshield. I glanced over at the crime scene. Patches of snow were covered in red, littering the ground like discarded laundry on a duvet. The back of my neck went cold. “How did this happen so fast? He must’ve just gotten home from class.”

  “One of his maids found him.”

  “What happened?” I asked, staring down at my hands.

  Alex swallowed, his jaw tight. “Peps, are you sure?”

  I nodded.

  He pulled the truck to a stop at the bottom of the hill. His dark eyes found mine. “He was stabbed. In the back.”

  Wincing, I studied Alex. By this point in our relationship, I could read the man like the worn copy of Jane Eyre sitting in my lap. The way he tap, tap, tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel meant more than nerves, more than excessive energy.

  “But something doesn’t make sense to you.” I whispered.

  His fingers stilled. “The stab wound was low, in the middle of his back, but the boot prints around the body were at least size eleven.”

  “How are you sure they’re the killer’s?” I asked. “They could’ve been from earlier today or they could’ve been Cole’s.”

  Alex rubbed the back of his neck. “Pepper, they were definitely from the killer, trust me.”

  I thought back to the vast amount of red I’d seen mixed in with the snow. Nausea rose in my throat as I realized what he was saying. The footprints were bloody.

  Taking my silence as a cue to keep driving, Alex turned on his blinker and pulled onto the old valley highway. But my emotional hiccup didn’t last long, and in the quiet of the truck, I put the pieces together.

  “A stab wound lower on the back would signify a shorter person,” I said, drumming my fingertips on my thighs as I thought out loud. “This would be especially true if it were a downward stroke, as that would give a smaller person more power.” I glanced over at Alex. “Which, by the way, since your eye just twitched, I’m guessing it was.”

  Alex cleared his throat, but didn’t offer up any confirmations of these points.

  I continued. “And if that is true, it would’ve been an odd angle for a taller person who wore size eleven or bigger b
oots.”

  The way Alex pressed his lips together as I finished my conjectures told me I was right.

  “Since when did you become such an expert on stabbing?” Alex sent me a side smile.

  “Psh. Literature is way more stabby than people realize.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll give you that,” he said, then paused. “Any thoughts on who could’ve done this to Cole?”

  “No. Absolutely not. Like I told everyone in class today, the guy is the nicest.” I sighed.

  “Could anyone be going after his money? What about this angry brother you were telling me about?”

  My breath caught in my throat. “I hate to say it, but he might be someone to investigate. The guy was always odd, shut out most people, even Cole. He always hated the fact that he had to follow in Cole’s perfect footsteps.”

  Alex pulled the truck into my apartment complex and turned off the engine. “Sibling rivalry sounds almost literary.”

  “Yeah…”

  As I stepped out of the warm truck, snowflakes gathered on my jacket and stuck to my eyelashes. Alex walked around, wrapped his arm around me and walked me to my front door. I never minded a chance to get close to him, but tonight when he pulled me into a hug, it felt especially good to have his weight pressed around me.

  Stepping back, Alex shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “So, last night in the apartment. How’s it feel?”

  “Weird.” I grimaced. “I’m so excited for Liv and Carson, but it’s definitely bittersweet.”

  He nodded. “Well, try to get some sleep. Snuggle Hammy.”

  At the mention of my dog, my mood brightened.

  “I’ll come by and help with the mattresses tomorrow,” he said before leaning over to kiss me. After a moment, he leaned his forehead against mine. “Sorry about Cole, Peps.”

  “Me too.” I moved back, staring deep into Alex’s eyes. Like I said, the perfect combination of intense and honorable. “Find out who did this to him.”

  He dipped his head. “I will.”

  As I unlocked the apartment door and bustled inside, Alex jogged back to his truck. I waited until he was inside to wave goodbye and shut the door behind me. The sight of Hamburger, my Boston terrier, running over to greet me made me smile.

  “Hi, girl.” I knelt to scratch under her chin.

  The momentary happiness my dog brought was quickly quelled by the stacks of boxes leaning up against the far wall. Tonight had been emotional and downright awful, and I didn't have high hopes for tomorrow.

  I picked up Hammy and held her tight, trying to ignore the terrible feeling sitting in my gut that if I’d known Cole my whole life, I knew the killer too.

  3

  Hamburger and I settled onto the couch with a bowl of popcorn for me and a squeaky toy for her when Liv came home.

  Her eyes narrowed at the sight of me. “Uh oh. What happened?” she asked, dropping her purse to the floor.

  I cringed. “Well, you know how I joked this morning about how I might pull out a pen and stab anyone who tried to interfere with my date tonight?”

  Liv cocked an eyebrow.

  “Don’t worry. I didn’t stab anyone. But someone did. And definitely not with a pen.” I cringed. “Alex is at the crime scene.”

  Her curious expression darkened. “That’s awful.”

  “Yeah, and even more so because I grew up with the victim, Cole Williams.”

  Recognition lit up her features. “Isn’t he in your cohort?”

  I nodded, the reality of it hitting me all over again in hot waves.

  “Crap. Sorry, Peps.”

  “Alex will figure it out.” I chewed on my lip and scratched Hammy’s ears.

  Liv chuckled. “With a little help from you, if I’m reading that look on your face correctly.”

  Having lived with me for the past six years, my best friend could read me a little too well. She toed off her boots and settled next to me on the couch, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

  “Well, maybe you’re right. I can’t stop wondering who could’ve done this. And Alex mentioned a few things about the crime scene that don’t quite add up.”

  Used to being my hot Watson as she often called herself, Liv asked, “Like what?”

  So I explained the discrepancies between the shoe size and the height of the stab wound. “Not to mention the fact that I can’t think of anyone who would want to hurt the guy,” I said, finishing with a shake of my head.

  Liv’s gaze wandered off. “Sometimes we don’t know people as well as we think,” she said, her tone tight.

  “True. I mean, he did say this weird thing tonight about how I painted him out to be a nice guy, as if there was a side of him I didn’t know about.” My fingertips tapped along my lips as I thought.

  Glancing over at Liv, I realized she wasn’t listening. A frown had taken over her still distracted features.

  “What’s up with you?” I asked, rewinding back to what she’d said before adopting that expression. Sometimes we don’t know people as well as we think. “Is everything okay?”

  She and her long-time boyfriend, Carson, were moving in together, having bought a house together down the street. Ecstatic as I was about the house—and the fact that my big-city-born best friend would really stick around this small town—it was hard to accept we wouldn't be living together anymore.

  Liv blinked, refocusing on me. She heaved out a long breath. “Moving is bringing out the worst in us. We’ve had three fights in the past two days. Do you want to know what the last one was about? Whether or not we should put magnets on the fridge. It lasted for an hour, Pepper.”

  I almost giggled at the silliness, but the exhaustion and depression clear in my friend’s posture made me keep it to myself.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, reaching out to give her hand a quick squeeze. “You two aren’t fighters. You’re annoyingly happy, actually. I’m sure this is because of moving stress.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” She wrapped Hammy up in her arms and hugged the dog tight. “I’m probably projecting my sadness on him about not living with these adorable little puppy paws anymore.” She showered the dog with kisses. Hammy snorted and wriggled happily, licking Liv’s face in response.

  “Any time you want to take her for Auntie Olivia time, she’s yours,” I reminded her.

  Liv scooted closer and wrapped an arm around me. Then she stuck Hammy in between us. “Thanks. Oh, before I forget.” She pulled something out of her pocket.

  It was a key.

  “To the new house,” she said.

  Unlike Liv, who could keep her emotions under control enough to speak, I found myself choked up. Leaning over, I grabbed the key and pulled my friend into a tight hug.

  We let our heads rest together.

  “The end of an era,” I said.

  “End of an era,” Liv said in agreement. “Is it weird I’m getting my dream house, and yet I’m a little jealous of you getting to move into the apartment above the store?”

  “Psh. Not weird at all. I will basically be fulfilling most little girls’ dreams by living above a bunch of books.”

  “It’s such a funky, cool space.”

  “Complete with creaky wood floors and an old skeleton key.” I laughed. “So much better than this boring place.”

  We looked around the plain, two bedroom, cookie-cutter, college-town apartment.

  “Yeah, good thing we’re getting out of this dump,” Liv said. The slight wobble in her voice made me feel better about the tears crowding at the edges of my eyes.

  Swiping them away, I turned to her and asked, “One last movie night?”

  Our gazes turned to the empty place on the wall where our TV used to stand. We'd already moved it into my new apartment.

  I tugged my laptop out of my schoolbag, sitting on the floor next to the couch. “Small screen?”

  Liv nodded. “I’ll make more popcorn.”

  The next morning, when Alex and Carson came to help move the bigger items, th
ey found us snoozing on the couch with Hammy. As far as I could remember, we’d fallen asleep somewhere in the middle of our third movie.

  Liv, a morning person who prided herself on waking up earlier than she needed to so she could get things done, jumped up and scurried off into the bathroom to get ready. I, however, completely embraced my sleep-in tendencies and stretched as Hammy jumped down off the couch to greet Alex. Carson muttered something about coffee on his way into the kitchen.

  “I’m glad you got some sleep,” Alex said, settling next to me on the couch and planting a kiss on my forehead.

  I nodded. “What about you?”

  “Some. They’d pretty much finished by the time I got back. What’s going to take the longest is wrapping our heads around some of the things we found.” Alex clenched his jaw as if he didn’t want to remember.

  Before I could ask what he meant, Liv bounded into the room, looking way too awake from where I sat.

  “Okay, I’m ready. Are we doing the couch first?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” Alex stood. “But it’ll be a lot easier if Pepper moves first.”

  “Ha. Ha.” I rolled my eyes and stood. “I’ll go change.”

  Alex winked at me and removed the cushions. By the time I’d changed and packed the last of my stuff, the guys had taken the couch to Liv and Carson’s, dropped off a load of boxes at the bookstore, and left Hammy there with Jess, so she wasn’t in the way.

  I padded past the space where the couch used to sit and joined Liv over by the window where she was standing watching them move our mattresses into the back of Alex’s truck.

  “Holy biceps,” Liv said, mouth parted. I almost expected to see a little drool.

  My first instinct was to laugh, but I got a flash of a taut arm muscle, and the laugh came out as a squeak. “I could watch this all day.”

  Liv nodded.

  “Who needs movie heroes when we’ve got this.” Liv sighed as Carson vaulted himself into the truck bed and tied down the mattress.