Run, River, Run Page 7

  “You got it.”

  “Thanks.”

  After he placed the order for dinner, he’d been tempted to check on River. She’d had a hell of a day and it wasn’t over yet. The team would do their best to make her feel comfortable, but there would be questions. Lots of questions.

  Rick had inspected the condo yesterday, but he hadn’t been searching for a reptile or a means by which one could enter. Kevin noted the security system, but it was simple and basic. It needed some beefing up. The sliding glass doors bothered Kevin, but an intruder would have to be a mountain climber willing to take on the thorny bougainvillea which ran up the side of the building in order to reach the small balconies on the second level.

  Silently, Kevin passed the door to River’s workroom. At the end of the hall was a linen closet. To his left was a guest bathroom where they’d found their visitor. Based on the items he spotted earlier, it was apparently the bathroom she used on a daily basis.

  The bath was directly across from her workroom—which had originally been designed as the master bedroom with a private bath. He had used the attached bath while she’d worked on her mask. Other than hand soap and towel, it was sterile. An opaque window was set high above the combination tub and shower. The window was fixed and didn’t open. Still, he’d give the rooms a closer inspection later.

  He returned to the living area noting the stark difference between the workroom and the rest of the condo. While the other rooms in her unit screamed minimalist—simple furniture, bare walls and no personal items—her workroom was her home.

  Pictures of the family she had lost surrounded her as she worked. One gut-wrenching photograph would be locked in his memory. Void of all human presence it hung above her workbench in a rough-hewn frame. In the center of the shot was a birdbath which rose above a bed of colorful flowers. The wood carving was exquisitely done, but the subject of the art tore at his heart. The base of the pedestal consisted of three distinct pairs of arms which appeared to rise from the earth. One pair was masculine and strong, his muscles defined. The second pair was sleek, feminine, and intertwined with the man’s arms. Together their palms held a basin aloft where birds and other creatures of the woods could come to sip the gift of life they offered. The third pair of arms stretched to reach the basin but came up short. After all, they were the arms of an eight-year-old boy. Kevin didn’t have to walk her property to know where she’d lost her family. She’d managed to turn the ugly sight into something beautiful—a homage to her loved ones.

  River’s soul was captured within the room’s four walls. Her art, her creativity and her heart, came alive there. The jeweled mask she’d worked on today was an intricate design of colored stones—all bright and cheerful until you noticed the small tear shaped pearls beneath each eye. They told a different story—an underlying sadness was hiding beneath the joyful rainbow of crystals.

  Kevin knew better than to get caught up in someone else’s pain. He’d seen too much on the battlefield. Too much suffering. It hadn’t been possible to shield himself entirely from it, but he should be able to maintain an emotional distance from one small woman.

  Resisting the urge to check in on River, Kevin settled down at the small dining room table and began to delve into her past.

  After almost fifteen years, it still wasn’t difficult to find multiple news articles regarding the Engleharts and the carnage they’d left in their wake. Wikipedia had a page dedicated to them, which is where Kevin found more fact than sensationalism.

  As River had told them earlier, her family was the Engleharts’ last victims. The Chandlers had arrived at their cabin for a summer vacation. River had taken off to explore with her sketch pad, leaving her family to unpack their belongings. She hadn’t known serial killers had been holed-up at the cabin after their recent killing spree. She’d returned to find the bloody, lifeless bodies of her mother, father and little brother on the ground. Her screams drew the Engleharts out of the barnlike structure where her father had parked the car. River managed to lose her pursuers in the forest. There was no reference as to how the authorities were alerted to the crime, but the Engleharts were picked up a day later, driving the Chandler’s vehicle.

  Kevin glanced toward the hallway then dug into some of the other stories on the killings. The Engleharts hadn’t simply killed, they’d butchered their victims—gagging them, then using knives freely on each victim before finally slicing their throats. Massaging his temples, he tried to erase the image of a young River kneeling over the gruesome remains of her family. How does a fourteen-year-old deal with that? Hell, how did anyone deal with it?

  He’d seen the worst of humankind on the battlefield. While he never got used to it, he’d learned to expect it. It was war. How many soldier’s hands had he held as they’d slipped from this world to the next? How many times had he been burdened with the request to carry a message to their loved ones? He was a trained medic—and a trained soldier. He’d taken his share of lives. There were days he had trouble reconciling the two.

  He remembered the day Troy had run toward certain death trying to stop a suicide bomber. Something in Kevin had changed while he’d battled to save Troy’s life. Something he had yet to understand—but he was different. Kevin knew he was different. He’d lost something that day, but damned if he could figure out what it was.

  How had the slaughter of her family changed River? Had she ever been playful? Outgoing? Had her massive loss turned her into an introvert? Is that why she ran an online business, which would allow her to minimize her interaction with others? He was certain his presence bothered her. She was a loner although she was confident—not to mention stubborn. Recalling her practiced facial expression at the beach, he’d known she’d been scared, but she projected the appearance of someone collected. Some people became extremely adept at hiding the effects of stress.

  He was curious about her. Too curious. He had no damn business doing anything other than tending to her wounds and keeping her safe…and wasn’t that presumptive of him? His life was in flux. He’d joined the service with every intention of retiring after twenty years. He hadn’t planned on leaving before his twenty was up, but his visits to see his friends here—all thriving—had him questioning that commitment.

  12

  With the information she’d been able to obtain from the local businesses that specialized in shells, River had a good idea of where she was going with the mask and the changes that would have to be made to her design. The acquisitions from vendors would cut into her profits, but she’d have the mask done in time. She spent the afternoon meticulously refining her earlier design, completely immersed in the project.

  A knock on the door startled her. The door opened a hair, allowing a visitor to poke her head through the opening.

  “Excuse me. Can I come in?” The woman with short, brown hair smiled at her. “Hi,” she said, slipping in the door without waiting for the requested invitation. “I’m Shayne. Kevin asked me to check on you.”

  River was skilled at compartmentalizing. She had fallen back into her work, blocking out the plans for the night. Now, they were front and center. Her palms became slick with sweat.

  Laying her mechanical pencil on the table, she stood and studied her visitor. Between the two of them, they almost made a whole person. Shayne was short—about the same size as River, but with a few less curves.

  “I got caught up in my work,” River apologized.

  “Oh my God!” Shayne started toward the desk where the jeweled mask sat. “Kevin said you made masks, but this is art. It’s stunning.”

  “Thank you. I’ve got a little ways to go yet.” River had set aside the singer’s mask to concentrate on shelling and the new project. She’d get back to it. She had to in spite of the fact it now gave her the creeps.

  Her guest leaned over the worktable. River didn’t have to warn her not to touch. Shayne’s hands were firmly grasped behind her back.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept you all waitin
g.”

  “Don’t be silly. We’ve invaded your space.”

  Shayne’s soft smile and casual attitude was putting River at ease. It was as if she’d come to talk her off a ledge. Her presence alone was doing the trick.

  “You’re used to your own company,” Shayne continued. “It took me awhile to get used to the crowd. Now, they’re all family.”

  “A crowd?” River inched back toward that edge.

  “Friends. Think of them as friends,” Shayne added, quickly. “They will be if you give them a chance. After the bombing, I kept to myself, but they slowly drew me out and then I met Troy.”

  “A bombing?” River’s head was starting to spin.

  “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you the tale some other time. Come on,” Shayne said, reaching for River’s hand. “I’ll run interference.”

  For the first time since she’d moved into the condo, her living room and kitchen were teeming with people—most of them tall, large men. Her stomach flipped. Shayne gave her hand a squeeze. “They’re all pussycats. I swear,” her companion said.

  More like mountain lions, River thought as she entered the room with Shayne. Each of the men matched Kevin in stature, yet each was distinctively different.

  “This handsome pirate,” Shayne said, reaching out for the man with a patch over one eye, “is my husband, Troy.”

  He placed a kiss on the crown of his wife’s head. McKenzie was stunningly handsome despite the obvious injury.

  “I hear you had a bit of trouble,” he commented, wrapping his arm around Shayne’s waist.

  “Some,” River admitted.

  “You’ve handled it well,” Rick told her.

  “I’m not so sure about that.” She made an attempt to smile, but the F1 tornado twisting inside her made it difficult. She hadn’t been the focus of this many people since the sentencing of the Engleharts.

  “I’m Colt.” An extremely tall man with shaggy, black hair and bright blue eyes introduced himself. A partially buttoned Hawaiian style shirt showed off his tanned, toned chest. He was their former commander, if River remembered their backgrounds correctly. “That pixie making herself at home in your kitchen is my wife, Cat.”

  A short, smiling woman with sable hair waived an oven mitt in her direction. The height difference between the two was, frankly, astonishing.

  “And I’m Gib.” The man with a thick, blond mane, slid in front of Colt, essentially demanding her attention. He took her hand, bent over it, and laid a soft kiss on her knuckles. Holy shit! The man was sex on legs. When he raised his head, his gray eyes sparkled at her as much as the ruby stud in his left ear.

  “Knock it off, Gib,” Kevin growled.

  “Why?”

  “Because she’s had a tough day and doesn’t need to be fighting you off.”

  River glanced from one man to the other. Gib’s impish grin meant something, but she was so out of her element, she didn’t know how to respond to the interaction. Did Gib tease every woman he met? Was Kevin always surly around him. He’d said they were friends.

  “Chow’s on,” the lone man in the kitchen shouted, redirecting everyone’s attention. He sported dark brown hair with wisps of silver at the temples. A dish towel was slung over his shoulder, reminding River of her aunt’s habit of doing the same.

  “Steve, this isn’t the base chow hall.” A tall, raven-haired woman, hands filled with dishes, elbowed him in the ribs. “My apologies,” she said, addressing River. “I’m Josie and this loudmouth is my husband, Steve.”

  Her husband responded by clasping her jaw and planting a long, hard kiss on her lips. She was beaming when Steve stepped back, taking the plates from her hands.

  “You have to excuse those two. They don’t get much time alone,” Gib explained.

  “You call this ‘alone’?” Steve laughed.

  The chattering and bantering continued as the group lined up cafeteria style to fill their plates. River hung back. Their voices combined until they became a singular roar in her ears. The twister in her stomach notched up to an F2. She made a quick retreat to her workroom, pushing the door closed behind her. Then repeated the process as she entered the bath she rarely used. The sour taste of bile rose in her throat as she lost the contents of her stomach.

  Kevin had been keeping a discreet eye on River. She wasn’t comfortable in crowds. She’d been clear on that point but had still agreed to the get-together all the same. He’d regretted pushing as he watched her color slowly pale. Her hand rested on her stomach, as if trying to quell it. Suddenly, her other hand covered her mouth and she rushed toward her studio. Kevin intercepted Shayne who had started down the hall.

  “Let me handle it.”

  “We overwhelmed her.”

  Kevin didn’t doubt Shayne was right as he opened the door to her workroom. She preferred a solitary life and after today’s events, shoving a room full of strangers had tipped the scale. These were his friends, but she didn’t know them. Despite her agreement for the gathering, he should have known better.

  He passed through the empty workroom and tapped lightly on the bathroom door. “River? Are you all right?” He twisted the knob and opened the door a crack. He wanted to be certain it wasn’t locked and if it wasn’t, that it remained that way.

  “Can you please go away?” Her voice was shaky.

  “I’m afraid that’s not in my DNA. I’m coming in.”

  Her sigh was so deep, he could easily hear it, but she didn’t voice any objection. Her legs were curled on the bathroom floor. One arm was resting on the closed toilet seat with her head cradled in the crook of her arm. Her left arm lay draped in her lap.

  She didn’t fight him when he took the wrist from her lap and checked her pulse. It was fast, which didn’t surprise him. Her skin was clammy, but not feverish. Those stunning ice-blue eyes were a little bloodshot but, otherwise, clear.

  Kevin left her to get some mouthwash from the other bathroom.

  Shayne popped into the hallway as he passed through. “Do you need one of us to help or would it be better if we all bugged out of here?” she quietly asked.

  “Go ahead and eat. I’ll let you know if we have to clear out.”

  “Here,” he said, returning to River and handing her a glass. “This will help.” She didn’t have to tell him that she’d been sick.

  River took the glass in silence, rinsed her mouth then wilted onto the closed toilet seat. “Sorry.”

  “No reason to be. You went through hell these last two days. Dealing with that rowdy bunch added to your stress. I owe you a big apology. Do you want me to send them home?” He ran a washcloth under cold water, wrung it out and handed to her.

  “No,” she didn’t hesitate. “They were kind enough to offer to help. Chasing them away would be rude. I have some issues I need to get past. Might as well start now.” She wiped her face and neck with the cool cloth. Once again, he found himself mesmerized by the divot at the base of her throat. Stupid.

  “Do you have something to take for your nerves?” he asked.

  “When I need it. I don’t need it now.” She rose to her feet, standing ramrod straight. “I made a hell of an impression on your friends.”

  “You’d be surprised how much in common you have with the group out there,” Kevin said. “They understand more than most.”

  “Okay, then,” she said, running her fingers through her hair. “Let’s see if I can keep from embarrassing myself a second time. I’m going to pass on the food, though.”

  “No one will be offended,” he assured her, leading her out of the workroom.

  Shayne was waiting in the hallway. “I’m sorry. I didn’t do a very good job of running interference.”

  “It wasn’t your job and it’s not your fault,” River told her.

  Kevin’s friends must have rushed through their meal or skipped it all together, because the kitchen had been cleared with the exception of a small pot which remained on the stove.

  “We put some soup on war
m,” Cat answered her unspoken question.

  The knot in Kevin’s shoulder disappeared when River gave her a small smile.

  “Thanks. Maybe later.”

  “Are you up to answering some questions?” Kevin asked.

  She nodded. “I was just getting used to not looking over my shoulder. I guess that was a mistake.”

  “Can I check out your workroom?” Troy headed for the hallway.

  “We’ve been trying to figure out if your reptilian visitor made its way in here on its own,” Kevin explained. “So far, no luck. We still need to look at your office.”

  “Yes, please. Go ahead.” River visibly shivered.

  Shayne popped up, almost bouncing out of her shoes. “Can I show Josie and Cat your work? We won’t touch it, I promise.”

  “Sure.” River sank to the couch as if the air had been let out of her. Kevin grabbed one of the dining room chairs and seated himself at the end of the sectional, next to River.

  “Do you think someone intentionally put the snake in here? How?” she asked, turning toward him.

  “At this point, we don’t know. I’ve seen them in lanais and garages,” Rick said, “but never inside a house. It’s even more suspect with this being a second-floor unit.”

  “Shit,” River swore. “I’d rather deal with a decapitated snake than one slithering around my bathroom.”

  “You said Dan is the only one with a duplicate key?” Rick questioned her.

  “Yes, and I trust Dan implicitly.”

  “People have been known to get their hands on keys and make copies,” Steve suggested. “Where do you keep yours?”

  “In my purse, and Dan wouldn’t be that careless.”

  “Does your aunt have a key?” Colt asked.

  “No. I gave the duplicate key to Dan because he’d be the one I’d call in an emergency.”

  “You wouldn’t call your aunt?” Kevin cocked his head. Why her aunt wouldn’t be first on her list of calls? Odd.

  “If I was sick or something like that, but I’m talking about the shit that keeps hitting the fan.”