Freezing Point (4 page)

C
asey's ear-splitting scream sliced through Jesse's mind.

He'd already jumped in his Jeep to drive over and change her tire, and now he peeled from the parking lot, through a red light, ignoring the honks and a near-collision with a mini-van, and onto Shoreline Road.

“Casey, can you hear me? Are you there?” The connection was lost. He slung the phone into the seat next to him.

“God, if you can hear me, please, protect her.”
Please, let her be okay.

Guilt wrangled through him—why did it take a crisis situation for him to cry out to God, to actually ask for help?

He already knew the answer to that—he still wasn't sure God was listening. Jesse carried a lot of baggage, all due to his career. That's why it was more than critical for him to get it right this time.

A red Toyota Camry—someone out for a joy ride—drove like a rickshaw in front of him. Jesse laid on his horn as if he believed they would pull over for him—which they didn't—then passed when he had the chance.

Not far up the road he spotted the green thing she called her car. From this distance, it appeared unharmed, but he couldn't be sure. And where was she? Had someone taken her?

His pulse ringing in his ears, he feared from the begin
ning that her simple stumble onto the loading dock, coupled with her background, might put her in a potentially explosive situation. If someone considered her a threat, the stakes were too high to allow Casey to simply walk away.

He intended to find out if Carlos and Miguel had plans to hurt her or worse, kill her.

But how could he find out? And if that were the case, how could he stop it?

Nearing her car, he slammed on the brakes, sending the Jeep sliding across the graveled shoulder. Jesse jumped out. Casey was nowhere to be seen.

He jogged from the VW to stand at the edge of the rocky face that tapered into a grass-covered knoll before morphing into sand. Cupping his hands, he shouted. “Casey!”

“You don't have to yell.”

Jesse looked down. There she sat, at the bottom of a short drop, next to a moss-covered boulder.

“Casey!”

Relief washed over him like a twenty-foot wave. He almost couldn't believe his eyes. He leaped down and closed the distance between them. Upon his approach, Casey stood, brushing off her slacks.

He'd honestly thought the worst. Overwhelmed to see her alive, he pulled her into his arms. She melted into him as he brushed his hand down her long, silky hair.

“I'm so glad you're all right,” he said, a mere whisper against her ear. “What are you doing down here?”

Was she hiding? No, if someone wanted her they could easily have found her.

“After what happened, I needed to sit down. I found this spot.”

Sensing it was time to let her go, he held her at arm's length. “You want to tell me why I heard you scream again? Because this is becoming a habit.”

“Sorry. I certainly wouldn't want your coming to my rescue to be a habit.” Her sea-green eyes pierced his.

Regretting his words, he asked again. “Casey, what happened?”

Her eyes shone with tears as she looked away.

He thought she was crying, except the hint of a smile touched her lips when her gaze returned to him. She'd had a scare, but she was rallying, at least he hoped.

He liked that.

But he had more important things to think about. Jesse hated considering that Casey had possibly become a target. She hadn't exactly done anything to deserve drawing the crime ring's attention. At least, not yet.

And if she had, then why was she still alive? Things weren't adding up.

“Tell me exactly what happened.” He needed facts.

A warm breeze wafted over him, carrying her perfume with it.

“You already know half of it,” she said. “I had a blowout then stopped to change it and that's when I called you. I was on the phone with you when I saw an SUV barreling toward the car and me.”

“Are you sure it was barreling toward you, or simply gunning up the hill? It obviously didn't hit your car. Why would anyone want to hurt you? Could you be mistaken about the driver's intent?” Jesse cringed at his questions, knowing all the possibilities. But would she know? That's what he really needed to find out. Had she done something at the ice company that he knew nothing about?

Something to seriously stir things up?

“I don't know, Jesse. Another car came around the corner and the SUV corrected its course. You're probably right. It was nothing. I overreacted, and feel like an idiot now. But
for a moment there, I really thought the driver intended…” She swallowed hard.

Noticing a slight tremble in her hands, Jesse hated to see her distressed yet again. Still, his shoulders relaxed, if only a little. Maybe it was a fluke, a result of Casey's nerves. He couldn't be certain that she was a target, at least not yet. He took a measure of relief from that.

“Did you get the license plate?”

Casey shook her head. “By the time they passed me, I had run out of the way. I don't think they even saw me. I'm not sure of the make or model, but I could probably figure it out if I looked at pictures.”

If they hadn't seen her then it wasn't an attempt on her life. Did someone want to damage her car to send her a warning? Jesse wasn't sure her claims made any sense.

Jesse squeezed her arm and smiled—a meager attempt to help her recover. “The important thing is that you're all right. I'm going to change your tire now.”

The limp smile she gave him in return told him she remained uncertain about what had happened. He would check for tampering when he examined the tire, and even if he found none, he'd make sure to get an expert opinion. Though Casey seemed on edge, she hadn't considered it a setup—a flat tire, then a hit-and-run.

His senses on alert, Jesse worked to change the tire while remaining acutely aware of his surroundings. For all he knew, if someone were trying to harm Casey, they would come back.

After replacing the blown tire with the spare, Jesse stood and wiped the sweat from his forehead. The sun was beginning to climb high in the sky. Though temperatures in this region were usually a steady seventy degrees, no matter the season, Jesse felt the heat of his labor. He hadn't seen any obvious tampering, but that didn't mean anything.

“I'll get this replaced for you,” he said, and carried the tire over to the back of his Jeep. He'd pass it to someone who could get it to Paul Scott in forensics.

Casey trotted behind him. “Really, that's not necessary. You've done so much already. I feel bad enough as it is for bothering you.”

Jesse ignored her and shoved the tire in the back then shut the hatch. He leaned against the Jeep and crossed his arms. “Casey, relax. You're not bothering me. In fact, far from it.”

He gave her an easy smile because he knew he needed to watch out for her, keep her near. He needed her to like him, even if it were based on a lie. For that, he hated himself.

Hated his job. But that didn't matter right now.

The problem was, he really did like her, was attracted to her, and that made things much more dangerous. An emotional connection could distract him.

“I hope you're still up for that interview,” he said, and winked.

She frowned, sending a shard of disappointment through him. Maybe he was pouring it on too thick.

“Sure, but I haven't had my coffee yet this morning. I'm starting to feel the effects already.”

“I've got just what the doctor ordered in my studio. Working with ice can chill a guy to the bone. I've got a fancy coffeemaker and all the fixin's.”

Casey's smile coiled heat through his insides. He didn't think he'd need coffee with her around. A silence grew between them—both awkward and uncomfortable. He wanted to hold her again, but this time he had no clear reason other than wanting to feel her in his arms. The thought was ill-timed and inappropriate, and Jesse inwardly groused at himself.

The rumble of a vehicle drew his attention and through
the Jeep windows, he spotted what looked like a navy blue SUV making its way up and around the incline.

Now
he had a reason. He tugged her behind him as though he could hide her and if not, he could protect her with nothing more than his body. Yeah, right. “Casey, what color was the SUV you saw?”

At the first sign of trouble, he'd get her out of the way, but he didn't want to scare her anymore if it wasn't necessary. “Silver.”

Regardless of it not being the same vehicle, Jesse held her for a moment more, letting the vehicle pass. He almost wished it were the same one so he could get the license plate and find out what really happened, if there was a connection to the vehicle and the crime ring.

The fact that she'd had two close calls—though they both appeared to be innocent misunderstandings—made his gut churn.

 

Casey followed Jesse in her car, grateful for his assistance. If only he could help her, really help her.

She hadn't told him the whole of it—she had a madman after her and that's why she was suspicious beyond reason. But why should she tell Jesse? Would he believe her? Or would he just think she was crazy because she'd been unable to prove anything? Nor had the police, bringing Casey to decide they had grown calloused to her accusations.

That's why, when Tannin explained how he would kill her—and she was surprised he had not done the deed right then and there—Casey didn't even consider calling the police. She'd simply fled town. Maybe that's all Tannin had wanted. As things stood, he'd lost everything and so had she.

The question still nagged her, though. Had Tannin found her in Orange Crossings? Had he been driving the SUV or was it, as Jesse suggested, a misunderstanding?

Translated, I'm paranoid.

Even if she wasn't overly suspicious, she could go crazy trying to figure things out.

Should she leave town? Where else could she go with no money and no place to stay?

Her sixth sense told her to stay right where she was. Jesse had done a pretty good job of keeping her safe since she'd arrived, and he didn't even have a clue she was in trouble.

Did that mean she was using the guy for protection? She allowed a chuckle. Not exactly something to be proud of.

She turned into the ice company's parking lot, following right behind Jesse, and parked next to him. Her emotions and heart were more than vulnerable right now. Desperate and on edge, she needed to tread carefully where one Jesse Dufour was concerned.

She'd known him for all of a day, but just being near him did funny things to her. Getting involved with him romantically would be nuts. He had no clue what he was getting into, and besides, at any moment she might have to run again. Nor did she know Jesse—he could be hiding dark secrets, as well.

Lost in her thoughts, Casey absently sat in her car and before she realized it, Jessie was opening the door for her. He offered his hand and she accepted, stepping from the car.

“Thanks.” She tossed him a smile, but knew it was feeble.

“What's the matter? Changed your mind already?”

“No, just need the coffee. I'll be a hundred percent in no time,” she said, unsure of her words.

She stood behind him as he jiggled his keys and found the right one to unlock a door.

“This is the side entrance to my studio,” he said. “Much quicker access to the parking lot.”

He shoved the door open and allowed her to enter before him.

She shuffled into the darkness, Jesse right behind her. He flipped the light switch and fluorescents began the familiar
flickering hum and pop then lit the entire room—with a concrete floor, it looked more like part of the warehouse than an office. But then again, it was supposed to be a studio for sculpting ice.

Jesse swept his arm around. “This is where it's done.”

“Really?”

“No.” He laughed. “I usually sculpt the ice inside a refrigerated room where the temperature is a steady twenty degrees.”

Casey shivered. “It feels cold enough in here for ice. I should have brought a jacket. What was I thinking?”

“That's my fault. I should have mentioned that to you. But, no problem. I've got that covered.” He grabbed a jacket from a peg on the wall and handed it to her.

She slipped into what he offered, though it was three sizes too big. She'd roll up the sleeves if she weren't so cold. It would do.

“Have a seat, and I'll make a fresh pot of coffee.” He motioned for her to sit in a plush-looking, contemporary-style chair. That was a surprise, considering the work benches and various tools and equipment scattering the room.

Was there a woman in Jesse's life already? Disappointment pressed down on her at the thought, although it wasn't her business.

She could ask that as part of the interview.

Casey did as he asked, recognizing that she was beginning to feel the strain of the past week—maybe she had survived this long on adrenaline alone—and she admitted she should have taken a few days to rest. But when she had first arrived in Orange Crossings, she'd wanted something to take her mind off almost becoming a murder victim, so she'd tackled the sculptor article.

Initially, she had believed herself to be safe here, and she desperately wanted to continue to believe that.

Connecting with Jesse appeared to have been beneficial, as well, and for now, she would play it safe and stick close to him. He hadn't said a word to her about calling the police on the near-miss today.

Probably thought she was crazy. And that was a real bummer. Casey frowned. She had to pull herself from these depressing thoughts.

Standing at the counter, he had his back to her as he fiddled with the coffeemaker. She took the opportunity to press her cheek against the collar of his jacket and she drew in a breath.

Jesse.
His scent filled her head.