A fair enough assumption.
“So, we’re going to hit up grocery stores in Irvine?”
“There aren’t that many, but no, I just got a better idea. Most of the gas stations are on the north side of town. There’s only one at the south end, right before we cross the train tracks.”
“That’s where Cassandra said to turn left along the river.”
“Bingo,” he says, grinning sideways at me. “The only thing he’ll likely get himself is gas, and that Marathon station would be the last one before he hits the hills…”
“And the first one heading home,” I finish his thought before concluding, “Sounds like you’re familiar with Irvine.”
“Drive through there whenever my daughter and I go camping,” he answers. “I live only twenty or so miles up the road in Richmond.”
Then he turns to me.
“I’m no stranger to the area.”
My stomach does a little flip at the sight of his hazel eyes lit up with excitement.
The thrill of the chase, I’m sure.
It’s a damn good look on him.
THIRTEEN
Mitch
When I drive into the Marathon gas station, I notice they have a full-service pump on the other side.
A young kid, maybe eighteen or nineteen, comes to the car when I pull up. I roll down the window.
“Fill’er up?” he says.
“Sure.”
I wait for him to fix the nozzle in my tank but when he reaches for the squeegee to clean my windows, I call him back.
“Maybe you can help us. We’re supposed to have dinner at a friend’s house and I must’ve written the instructions down wrong. It said left on Miller Creek Road, take the first left, and then about five miles up the road, turn right onto a dirt road.” I shrug and try to look sheepish. “I can’t seem to find the dirt road and keep looping back into town.”
“Who’s the friend? I reckon I know most all the folks livin’ up in those hills.”
“Yeah, I don’t know if I should. My friend values his privacy. He’s a bit of a public figure, you see.”
I glance over at Kate, as if I’m getting her input, when she reaches over and puts her hand on my arm.
“Don’t be silly, honey, I’m sure Paul won’t mind,” she says, playing right along.
Then she smiles and leans over the center console, shaking her head at the kid.
“My husband is being overly cautious. We’re looking for Paul Krebs. You wouldn’t happen to know him, would you?”
“Mr. Krebs? I sure do,” he grins back. “Saw him this mornin’ when I got to work. He was my first customer of the day.”
“Well, isn’t that just perfect,” she beams before she sits back, patting my knee. “See, honey? I’m sure this nice young man can tell us how to get there.”
“It ain’t hard,” the kid says, falling for her performance hook, line, and sinker. “You got the first part right, heading east on Miller Creek Road, but you’ve gotta keep goin’ for about five miles ’til you hit a T in the road. Turn left, and then you take the first right. No more ’n a dirt road is right, but it’ll get you right up the hill to the house.”
When my tank is full, I thank him, hand him thirty bucks, and tell him to keep the change.
“Husband? A little fast, don’t you think? It was only one kiss,” I tease, grinning as I pull away from the station.
“Hey, I was just playing along,” she says defensively, but when I glance over I catch her smiling.
Good.
Spending a couple of hours on the road in very close proximity to this woman I could feel the tension build, and before I did something stupid—like kiss her again—I tried to defuse the situation.
Joking about that kiss takes some of the tension off.
Getting Kate to smile is a bonus.
Except now I want to kiss her even more.
The dirt road isn’t easy to spot and I almost drive past it. Luckily, there’s no traffic on the road so I’m able to back up a bit and turn in. Despite being largely obscured from the road, the path heading up the hill is somewhat maintained with gravel filling the worst of the ruts.
We make slow progress, my vehicle not exactly made for the rough terrain, until I notice the driveway narrowing even farther ahead.
“We’ll have to walk up from here.”
I don’t like going in blind, and up ahead the trees are thick, crowding in on either side of what is no more than a trail. Safer to leave the vehicle down here, where I can pull in behind the brush and still have room to back out when we leave.
Kate gets out on her side and I inch up a little more to be completely out of view of the dirt road before exiting as well.
“Are you carrying?” I ask when I catch up with her.
She pats the pocket of her coat as she keeps moving, staying off the trail and trudging through the undergrowth just inside the tree line. A path I would’ve chosen myself.
For now I’m quite content letting her take the lead—the view is enjoyable from back here—since I already know she can hold her own. But when I notice the tree cover getting sparser, I hustle to the front.
Up ahead the ground levels off to a clearing, revealing a substantial, rustic house nestled in the trees on the far side. The two-car garage is separate from the main building, partially obscured from view.
Holding up my hand, I stop Kate from moving ahead.
“No vehicles,” she says in a soft voice beside me.
“Doesn’t necessarily mean there’s no one here,” I return.
“Only one way to find out.”
Before I have a chance to react, she’s already walking into the clearing, aiming straight for the house.
“You could get shot at,” I hiss when I catch up to her.
She turns her face and pointedly rolls her eyes.
“Give me a break. Unless he has a sniper rifle handy and is a highly-skilled shot, he’d have a hard time getting near me,” she states while swiftly traversing the clearing. “And that’s assuming he’s here and trigger happy.”
Then she points to the stone chimney emerging from the steel roof.
“No heat on and it’s been chilly at night. Colder up here. I’m guessing if he was here at all, he’s probably gone already.”
She makes a good point, but I still don’t like she turned herself into a potential target. If he was the one driving last night and got even the slightest glimpse of her, catching sight of that strawberry-blond mane heading toward his house could’ve panicked him.
Nothing like a man who feels trapped to ramp up the body count.
A shiver runs down my spine at the thought and I find myself darting past her up the steps to the front door. I knock, keeping an eye on the narrow pane of glass next to the front door to see if anything’s moving.
Nothing. Not a sound either, so I try again with the same lack of result.
“I’m gonna have a look around,” Kate announces, heading back down the steps.
I try the door—it’s locked—before moving around to the side of the house, pressing my face up to windows to have a peek inside. The place looks like a hunting lodge full of leather, hides, and more than a few mounted animal heads on the white-washed walls.