Murder in the Smokies - By Paula Graves Page 0,12
in the world at tailing a vehicle. And piling on the bad news, there wasn’t a decent turnoff for the next few miles, which meant she would have even that much farther to go before she could crawl beneath her covers for a few hours of humiliated sleep.
Around a tight curve, a side road finally came into view. Ivy flashed her right-turn indicator and eased the Jeep onto the side road. The surface of the smaller road was pocked and pitted, the ride immediately rougher. Ivy tightened her grip on the steering wheel as she slowed to pull a U-turn.
Suddenly, a pair of bright lights filled her windshield, blinding her for a moment. Startled, she jammed on her brakes, even though the lights were still some distance away. Her tires squealed in protest, the back end of the Jeep fishtailing just long enough to set her heart racing.
The lights went out again, leaving her blinded for a moment, even with the Jeep’s headlights cutting through the deepening darkness. She saw a brief flash of movement, shadowy and quick. It was gone before she blinked. Swallowing hard, she turned the steering wheel hard to finish the U-turn.
And there in her headlights, impossibly close, stood Sutton Calhoun, aiming the barrel of a large black Glock right at her.
He moved toward the Jeep carefully, the barrel of the pistol staying fixed on her. She cautiously lowered the driver’s side window. “Sutton, it’s me. Ivy Hawkins.”
He didn’t lower the pistol. “Why are you following me?”
She decided the truth was the least humiliating answer. “To see where you were going.”
He stopped beside her car door, gazing at her through the open window. Though his expression was stern, the corner of his mouth twitched. Her own lips curved in response. He lowered the Glock and slid it into a holster beneath his black leather jacket.
“So,” she prodded when he remained silent, “where are you going? And why did you just pull your weapon on me?”
He released a long, slow breath and reached into the front pocket of his jeans, withdrawing a crumpled slip of paper. He handed it to her through the window and took a step back, folding his arms across his chest.
A chilling wind, damp with the promise of rain, swirled through the open window, fluttering the piece of notepaper as she clicked on the dome light to see what was written there.
“Clingmans Dome observation tower, 7 p.m. Come alone.”
She read it twice, then flipped it over for any sign of a signature. There was nothing.
She turned off the dome light and looked up at Sutton. He was little more than a silhouette against a stormy, darkening sky. “Who sent this?”
“I don’t know.” His voice rumbled like thunder in the dark.
“You don’t know?” A shiver skated down her spine. “Are you crazy, coming out here alone to meet someone who sent you an anonymous note? Haven’t you ever heard of an ambush?”
She could see just enough of his face to make out a wry grin curving Sutton’s lips. “You’re one to talk, Ivy Hawkins, following a heavily armed man deep into the heart of the Smoky Mountains.”
A flush spread over the back of her neck. “Fair enough. And you’re not the only one heavily armed, by the way.”
Silence fell between them, brief but tense. Sutton was the one to break it. “How’d you come to follow me, anyway?”
“I dropped by the Stay and Save to talk to you, but you weren’t there. Then I saw you drive past and—”
“You decided to traipse along behind me?”
She shot him a glare. “I’m pretty sure I’ve never traipsed in my life.”
His lips twitched again. “Didn’t your boss tell you to keep clear of me?”
“Yeah, well, it’s not like I sent him my itinerary.”
He lifted his hand to his face. She heard the soft rasp of his palm against his beard stubble as he fell silent for a long beat. Then, just as she was searching for something else to say to break the taut silence, he dropped his hand to his side. His shoulders squared and he bent toward her, his face filling her window. He was so close, she felt his soft exhalation on her cheek, and her heart rate skittered a notch higher.
“I’m going to Clingmans Dome tonight,” he said quietly. “I need to know who sent me that note and why. And I won’t think any less of you if you turn around right now and head back home.”
“But?”
“But I’d rather have backup as