Chapter Six
They stopped at Liam’s hotel room only long enough to get the dogs settled.
He stashed his camera gear in the room safe.
Then they headed to the hotel bar. Nina looked exhausted, though she was fighting it.
He wanted nothing more than to gather her into his arms and hold her, to tell her she didn’t have to be so strong.
But maybe being strong was all that kept her going. Who was he to take that from her?
The snow was falling harder outside, so they settled into a cozy padded booth near the fire and ordered red wine and a cheese plate.
She sipped wine, then closed her eyes and leaned her head back.
“This is just what I needed,” she said. She opened her eyes.
“Tell me about Ukraine. How long were you there?”
“Three months. Both too long and not long enough.”
“You were filming for a children’s charity?”
“Yes. I was there to document the plight of children who had lost their homes to the bombings, or one or more of their parents in the fighting. And the families whose children had been kidnapped and taken to Russia.”
“Oh, Liam.” She looked stricken.
“Maybe we should talk about something more cheerful,” he said.
“No. I want to hear. I need to remember there are bigger things in the world to worry about.”
So he told her. About the families who mourned and the children who were lost. And the ones who carried on.
The children who still laughed and played among the rubble, the families who camped in blasted houses with no electricity or water and still celebrated birthdays and holidays and being together.
“I was struck by their resiliency,” he said.
“They had a beautiful country and so much of it has been wrecked. But they have faith it can be beautiful again. I tried to convey that hope in my videos.”
“That’s so inspiring,” she said.
“And overwhelming. I was sorry to leave, and yet I was glad to come home, and to see Angel again.”
“I thought she went everywhere with you.”
“She usually does, but I couldn’t take her to a war zone. She stayed with my ma and da, who spoiled her right rotten. She gained five pounds by the time I returned home and wasn’t happy at all when I put her on a diet.”
She laughed. A genuine laugh. “If you ask her, I’m sure she’ll tell you I’m starving her,” he said. “I was eating a sandwich the other day and she actually tried to snatch it out of my hand.”
“The poor baby,” she said, giggling.
“She’s small but fierce.”
“You do know that when we first met, your dog is the one I was really attracted to,” she said.
So she would admit her attraction. Well, it hadn’t been a big secret. “I figured that out pretty quickly.”
“You weren’t too upset?”
“Hey, at least she got you to give me a second look.”
“It didn’t take long for me to see your better qualities.” She looked away. Did he imagine the flush to her cheeks? Maybe it was that blush, or the wine, or being with her these past two days, but he was feeling reckless. “I’m still attracted to you,” he said, his voice rough.
She swallowed, the movement drawing attention to the silky white column of her throat. “I’m not the same person I was then,” she said.
“And I’m not the same man. None of us are the same. But there’s still a connection.”
She shook her head. “You’re in Ireland when you’re not traveling the world. I’m here. And now Nicholson is here, too. It’s too complicated.”
He covered her hand with his, and she fell silent. “I’m not asking you for anything,” he said. “I’m just being honest about what I’m feeling. I’ll never try to take advantage of you. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes.” The word was a whisper, but he felt it as much as if it had been a shout. She sipped more wine, and when she looked at him, her smile was bright, but forced. “You were very reckless this afternoon, going after that snowboarder. That part of you hasn’t changed, at least.”
“Says the woman who made a career out of screaming down steep, icy mountains.”
“I don’t do that anymore.”
“Do you miss it?” he asked.
“Sometimes.” Her expression grew pensive. “After the ordeal with Nicholson, racing wasn’t the same. I couldn’t stop wondering who was watching me. What were they thinking? Was what happened my fault because I put myself in the public eye?”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know that. Deep inside, I do. But I guess we humans always try to make sense of things, to find a reason why—even when something is senseless.”
The server stopped at their table. “Will there be anything else?”
Liam looked at Nina. She shook her head. “I need to go home now.”
They retrieved both dogs from his room. She didn’t object when he insisted on walking her to her car. He waited until they reached the parking lot behind ski patrol headquarters before he said, “I’m coming with you.”
“Liam, you don’t have to…”
“I have to. For my own peace of mind. You can drop me off at my car and I’ll follow you. If Nicholson is at your house, or if he left another note, do you really want to be alone?”
She looked down at the keys in her hand, then up at him again. “Thank you. I’d like it if you came with me.”
* * *
She drove carefully to her home, scanning the mirrors for any sign that someone was following her. Someone besides Liam, that is. Every time she glanced back, his rental SUV was there, his face indistinguishable in the darkness. But knowing he was there reassured her.
“I’ll feel better once we’re inside the house with the doors locked,” she said, pretending she was speaking to the dog in the back seat, as much as to herself.
Sky’s tail thumped against the seat, a comforting tattoo.
She pulled into the drive, headlights sweeping across the snow-covered front yard, then illuminating the garage door. She hit the brakes hard, throwing her body against the restraining seat belt and surprising a yelp from Sky.
Liam pulled in alongside her. Within seconds he was tugging at her passenger door. Still focused on the garage door, she fumbled to unlock her car. “I’m calling the sheriff right now,” he said.
She remained silent, staring, dimly aware of him making a phone call. Then he leaned over and gently hit the button to turn off the ignition. “Don’t look at that,” he said. When she didn’t respond, he touched her cheek and urged her to turn her head. “Look at me.”
She looked, but she still saw the horrible image splashed in red across her garage door—a stick figure woman lying down, hair in long braids on either side of her head, the way Nina had worn her hair in her racing days.
The figure’s arms held ski poles in the air, her legs on skis splayed at odd angles.
And where her eyes should be were only Xs.
* * *
Two sheriff’s department vehicles responded to Liam’s call.
The same deputy from the night before—Officer Dale—emerged from the first vehicle.
Sheriff Van Howard stepped out of the second.
He wasn’t a tall man, but he stood very straight and walked with a swagger.
His face was bronzed, deep lines on either side of his mouth, furrows around his eyes, like a visage weathered from granite by time and weather.
He approached the driver’s side of Nina’s car.
Sky barked, and Angel joined in. She and Liam hushed the dogs, then she lowered the window and turned toward the sheriff.
She was feeling stronger now. Less shocked.
“It was like this when you got home just now?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He glanced toward the garage, and she couldn’t help but follow his gaze. A cartoon. Graffiti. Yet horrible because of what it implied. “Is that paint or blood?” he asked.
Blood? She gaped at him.
“We haven’t stepped out of this car,” Liam said. “We haven’t touched it.”
The sheriff turned away. He and the deputy walked up to the garage door. While the deputy took photographs, the sheriff studied the drawing. He touched a lower corner of the drawing, then sniffed his finger.
Then he returned to Nina’s car. “It’s paint,” he said. “Not quite dry, but it takes a while in these cold temperatures. What time did you get home?”
“All of a minute before I called you,” Liam said.
The sheriff frowned at him. “Let Ms. Rose answer the questions.”
“I pulled into the driveway, saw the garage door, then Liam got into the passenger seat and called you from there,” she said. “That couldn’t have been more than a minute after we pulled in.”
The sheriff glanced over at the black SUV. “That your car?” he asked Liam.
“Yes.”
Nina pulled her coat more tightly around her. She was getting cold, sitting out here with the window open. The sheriff directed his attention back to her. “You work at the resort, right? SkyCrest.”
“Yes.” She wanted to tell him he knew perfectly well where she worked, but she held her tongue.
“The resort closes at four. It’s almost seven o’clock. What were you doing between quitting time and now?”
“We went to the bar in the Sheraton and had some wine and cheese and talked,” she said. “Then we came here.”
“And you came with her?” he asked Liam. “Why was that?”
“I knew about the notes Nina received from a stalker last night and this morning,” Liam said. “I wanted to be with her if there was another note.”
“You didn’t by any chance plant those notes yourself, did you?”
The sheriff’s question startled a gasp from Nina. “Why would you think that?” she asked.
The sheriff’s expression remained impassive. “He wouldn’t be the first man who tried to frighten a woman into turning to him for comfort.”
“I didn’t write those notes, and I didn’t paint that obscenity.” Liam jerked his head toward the garage door. “Yesterday and today I was at SkyCrest all day, working. I’m sure you can verify that with a dozen people at least.”
The sheriff regarded the drawing again. “And you think your stalker—this Aaron Nicholson—did this?” he asked.
“Yes,” Nina said.
“Why is that?”
“Because it’s the kind of thing he would do.” She inhaled deeply and added, “Because the two notes I received sounded like the notes he left when he stalked me before.”