Mountain Murder Investigation Read online

  “I’m not here by mistake. You’re the person I came to see.”

  Raven flinched. That smooth, commanding voice... The memory of it had stalked her in the wee hours of the night.

  She unconsciously dug the gun barrel deeper into the taut flesh beneath his collarbone. He grunted.

  “Raven, it’s me. Put the gun away.”

  She shone her flashlight directly in his face and received a bone-jarring jolt.

  This couldn’t be.

  The serious, striking features belonged to Dr. Aiden Ferrer, esteemed architecture professor at Abbott-Craig University.

  High, intelligent brow, unwavering, molten brown gaze topped with jutting eyebrows, straight, thin nose and lips that were often pressed together. A full beard hid the planes of his face and contrasted with the ashen cast of his skin. His black curls were disheveled. A fresh bruise was visible at his temple.

  “You died. The car... The river...”

  “I’m going to get up now, all right?” Aiden took his time getting to his feet, his gaze fixed on hers.

  “Raven, listen to me. You’re in danger...”

  Karen Kirst was born and raised in East Tennessee near the Great Smoky Mountains. She’s a lifelong lover of books, but it wasn’t until after college that she had the grand idea to write one herself. Now she divides her time between being a wife, homeschooling mom and romance writer. Her favorite pastimes are reading, visiting tearooms and watching romantic comedies.

  Books by Karen Kirst

  Love Inspired Suspense

  Smoky Mountain Defenders

  Targeted for Revenge

  Smoky Mountain Ambush

  Mountain Murder Investigation

  Explosive Reunion

  Intensive Care Crisis

  Danger in the Deep

  Forgotten Secrets

  Visit the Author Profile page at LoveInspired.com for more titles.

  Mountain Murder Investigation

  Karen Kirst

  My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations; Knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience.

  —James 1:2–3

  To Jacob, Austin and Daniel. I’m blessed to be your mom and grateful for the years we’ve spent together during our homeschool journey. I’m proud of you.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from Canyon Survival by Connie Queen

  ONE

  Serenity, Tennessee

  Mounted Police Officer Raven Hart entered her dark, silent house and instinctively reached for her 9mm. The night-light near the sink window wasn’t on as usual. She hadn’t touched it, and her roommate, Lindsey, wouldn’t be home until late. The stove clock wasn’t flashing. Nothing was wrong with the electricity.

  She listened for unusual sounds. Her worn-out body longed for a soak in the tub and a full eight hours of sleep. Five was the most she’d managed at once since Aiden’s death thirteen months and ten days ago. She gritted her teeth. She had to stop counting the days. Had to stop feeling guilty. Raven had been in Serenity when his car had veered off that Morganton road and plunged into an icy river.

  Flicking on the overhead light, her fingers left the holster to whisper over the photo hanging on the fridge. It was a close-up of her and Aiden, taken on the university campus where he’d taught architecture. His face was pressed close to hers, and they were both grinning like fools. Her chest grew tight as she imagined the moments leading to his death.

  Trapped. Struggling to escape. To breathe.

  Somehow his body had never been found. He had to have gotten free of the car and been swept away by the swift current. The local authorities theorized he’d been pinned underwater by the thick network of vines and roots. Less likely, his body had drifted far downriver and into an isolated cove.

  Raven pressed her palm to her forehead, as if she could stop the images those theories created.

  Nothing good can be gained by fixating on the circumstances surrounding his passing. Naomi, a widow at church who’d become something of a mentor to Raven, had lost her husband to an unexpected tragedy. Naomi and Raven had spoken many times about grief and moving on from loss. But there was something Naomi didn’t know. Something no one did. People might not be so quick to extend compassion if they knew the truth.

  Raven unzipped her leather jacket and shrugged it off, the tension in her shoulders radiating into her neck and the base of her skull. A monster headache was brewing. Their mounted police unit’s monthly training sessions always took a toll on her. The sights and sounds meant to desensitize the horses wreaked havoc on her dyslexic brain. She had to pour every ounce of her energy into not losing focus and not distracting her equine partner, Thorn.

  The floorboards emitted a groaning shift somewhere near the guest bathroom. Raven was used to the sounds her riverside bungalow made—and this wasn’t one of them. Her scalp prickled. Various scenarios scrolled through her mind. Sliding her gun from her holster, she inched between the table and stove and paused beside the fridge. A distorted rectangle of light probed the navy-and-white living room, giving her an unobstructed view of the oak boards, muted rug and giant marshmallow ottoman. Beyond that, she could make out the shapes of her sofa, the built-in bookshelves flanking the fireplace and French doors leading to the backyard and languid river beyond.

  Holding her weapon with both hands, she inched around the corner. Another sound greeted her—a footstep and an audible exhale. There, in the juncture between the hallway and bathroom, was the unmistakable hulk of a man. Raven’s instincts took over.

  She rammed into him, knocking him into the wall. His breath escaped in a whoosh and he stumbled sideways. Picture frames hit the floor and splintered. She swiped her booted leg beneath his feet. He went down and didn’t come back up. Why wasn’t he fighting back or fleeing?

  Looming over him, one knee wedged on the floor beside his ribs, she pressed her gun against his chest. “You’ve chosen the wrong homeowner to mess with, buddy.”

  He didn’t respond. She couldn’t make out his features, but she could see the whites of his eyes. He was conscious. He lay there, breathing heavily, arms out at his sides.

  “I’m not here by mistake. You’re the person I came to see.”

  Raven flinched. That smooth, commanding voice... The memory of it had stalked her in the wee hours of the night when she longed for sleep to overtake her.

  She subconsciously dug the gun barrel deeper into the taut flesh beneath his collarbone. He grunted.

  “Raven, it’s me. Put the gun away.”

  Certain she’d fallen asleep in her bathtub and was having a strangely realistic dream, she slowly removed her flashlight from her utility belt. She shone the beam directly in his face and received a bone-jarring jolt.

  She scrambled off him,
holstered her weapon and punched the hall switch. The overhead light illuminated the man lying prostrate on her floor. Her gaze started with the stained sneakers, sliding up the faded jeans encasing his long legs and the olive green canvas jacket over a black hoodie. A tiny scar was visible on his throat, earned from a careless swipe of a modeling scalpel. Her pulse rumbled through her ears like the river after a heavy summer rain. This couldn’t be.

  The serious, striking features belonged to Dr. Aiden Ferrer, esteemed architecture professor at Abbott-Craig University.

  High, intelligent brow; unwavering, molten brown gaze topped with jutting eyebrows; straight, thin nose and lips that were often pressed together, indicating profound thought. A full beard hid the planes of his face and contrasted with the ashen cast of his skin. His black curls were disheveled and clearly hadn’t seen a barber’s scissors in quite some time. A fresh bruise was visible at his temple.

  “You died. The car—the river—”

  “I’m going to get up now, all right?” He took his time getting to his feet, his gaze fixed on hers. “Raven, listen to me. You’re in danger.”

  She closed the distance between them, unable to resist touching his cheek. His eyes widened, and his breath hitched.

  “I went to your memorial. I’ve been mourning you ever since that night...” Her knees went limp as noodles, and she put a hand flat against the wall to keep from falling.

  He drew closer to assist her. She warded him off with a glare. He lowered his hand, his expression sad. “I regret putting you through that.”

  “Regret?” she repeated, incredulous. “What’s going on, Aiden? Where have you been?”

  “I witnessed the murder of a young man. A former student. The men responsible want me dead. Now that they know I’m alive, they’ll come after you to get to me.”

  “What men?”

  He opened his mouth to respond, then stilled, cocking his head to the side. “Did you hear that?”

  Truth be told, she wouldn’t have heard a black bear rumbling through her kitchen right now.

  He brushed past her and, keeping to the shadows, went around to all of the windows checking for... She wasn’t sure who or what exactly.

  “How did you get in here?”

  “Picked the lock.” He surveyed the front yard, nervous energy radiating from him. That in itself was telling. Aiden had always been a steady, immovable presence. Not much ruffled him. “You should invest in an alarm system.”

  Raven intercepted him as he made to return to the French doors. “Aiden, stop. You need to tell me everything.”

  * * *

  Raven took his breath away, and not by tackling him or aiming her service weapon at him. The woman he’d given his heart to was right in front of him, a living, breathing, vibrant, beautiful being. His memories hadn’t done her justice. Long, rippling ebony hair framed her oval face and pleasant features. When on duty, she wove the strands into a tidy braid, highlighting her clear brow, straight nose and eyes the color of warm honey. Her lips were pink and inviting.

  He could gaze at her for hours, days, years—he’d unconsciously lifted his hand toward her, and she jerked back, her eyes wary. She had a right to be wary of him now.

  Frustration gripped him anew, along with the festering wound she’d inflicted. But no, now wasn’t the time to revisit their past. He was here solely to warn her.

  “In the weeks leading up to the crash, I discovered a cheating scheme involving students and the university registrar, Leonard Grunberg. He was accepting bribes—altering grades in exchange for cash. Because the registrar’s office creates and maintains student records, Leonard has complete access. These students are members of our athletic teams—football, basketball, track, baseball—the list goes on.”

  “The general educational policy is that student athletes don’t play if they can’t maintain a certain grade point average,” Raven interjected.

  “That’s right. As you know, our football and basketball teams generate millions for the university and the town. The students are pressured to perform well on and off the field. Their scholarships hang in the balance.”

  “The influx of fans for each game boosts the local economy,” she said slowly. “They patronize hotels, restaurants, shops.”

  “Successful seasons help woo future athletes to our university,” he added.

  “How did you learn of this?”

  “I had a student in my class who was really smart, but he didn’t put much effort into his work. Tim ignored the opportunities I gave him to bring up his grade, and he failed the class. The following semester, I noticed he was enrolled in the subsequent class. It would be like trying to tackle Algebra Two after failing Algebra One. The professor wasn’t sure how he’d gotten approved. I checked the grading system, and his grade wasn’t the one I’d submitted. It had been changed to a passing one. I went to Desmond with my concerns, and he reassured me he’d look into it.”

  “Desmond Whitlock, the architecture department head? The one who recommended you for the position?”

  He nodded, still reeling from the untenable truth exposed that very day. The man he’d respected and admired, the one he’d viewed as a mentor, had been a fake. A phony.

  “I realized he hadn’t done as promised when my path crossed with Tim’s again. The professor told me that Desmond was still sorting things out. I assumed he’d gotten distracted with other duties. I decided to review my records and search for students who’d failed my classes. Of the ten students that year, eight of them continued through the program. I wondered how it could’ve happened and why. When I took the evidence to Desmond, he acted genuinely surprised and promised to investigate.”

  “But he didn’t.”

  He shook his head. “I took it upon myself to approach one of my former students, Jay Crowell. Jay played on the football team his freshman and sophomore years. Between the practices and games, he couldn’t keep up with the coursework. He dropped out of school altogether and wasn’t sure if or when he’d return. Jay admitted that he’d gotten a tip from a teammate about Leonard. He said he paid Leonard on multiple occasions, and that he wasn’t the only one, not by a long shot.”

  Her brows shot up. “Bribery is a serious offense.”

  “I doubt Jay realized that. He wasn’t a student any longer, and he probably figured that made him immune.”

  She tilted her head to the side, her gaze troubled. “Where’s Jay now?”

  “He’s dead.” Jay had been nervous that last time they’d spoken. His apartment had been broken into, and he’d suspected someone was following him. “We were meeting to discuss taking our information to the chancellor’s office or even the university police. I heard a commotion in the backyard. I walked around the house and saw two men dragging his limp body toward the pool.”

  “Who?”

  “I recognized Leonard Grunberg. Both wore masks, but Leonard’s was askew. I saw the stag tattoo on his neck.” He fisted his hands. “I wasn’t sure if Jay was dead or not, so I confronted them. When I got closer, I realized I was too late.” He got sick to his stomach every time he relived that night. “Leonard had learned of my snooping and, just the day before, offered me a slice of the pie. When I refused, he made threats against you. He’d done his research about me and my life, but he didn’t know you’d ended our engagement.”

  Pain bloomed in her eyes. “I didn’t tell anyone.”

  “I didn’t, either.” Aiden had hoped that, after some time to reflect, she’d change her mind.

  He’d known Raven had lingering insecurities related to her dyslexia, and that his education and chosen profession were reminders of the trials she’d endured. He lived in the world of academia, a place of trauma and significant mental and emotional turmoil for her. She’d felt intimidated by his parents—both retired educators—and his stable childhood rooted in learning. She had been born and raise
d here in Serenity, a charming mountain town adjacent to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, by a widowed mother who was too busy supporting herself and her daughter to worry about grades. Raven’s mother had been dismissive of her difficulties, leaving her to deal with cruel classmates and teachers who assumed she was lazy.

  Aiden hadn’t realized the significance of her doubts. He’d been blindsided by her decision.

  “I told him you weren’t involved, but he didn’t believe me. At Jay’s house, Leonard lunged for me, threatening to strangle me like he had Jay. I escaped and reached my vehicle. He and his accomplice chased me through deserted streets.” He pressed his hand against his midsection, as if he could will away the queasiness. “It was dark, cold and rainy. The roads were slick. As we approached the bridge, Leonard nudged my bumper, and I lost control. There was no avoiding the river. I remembered to roll down the window, and I unbuckled as soon as the car slid into the water. I shimmied out, and the current buoyed me downstream. The rain was coming down in sheets by then. That, combined with the lack of moonlight, prevented him from seeing me. Once I found something to hang on to, I watched as they stared at where my car went under. A passing vehicle stopped, and the driver summoned the authorities.

  “I decided to lay low for a few days. Then the local news outlets reported that the authorities had searched the river and failed to locate my body. They assumed I was dead, and I saw an opportunity to buy more time.”

  She’d grown paler with each word out of his mouth. Her eyes, though, were a smoldering fire. “Thirteen months is a long time.”

  “Don’t you see? It wasn’t just my life on the line. Staying dead protected you.” He reached for her out of habit. She stepped back, beyond reach.

  “I’m an officer. You should’ve come to me.”

  The front door shuddered from a solid impact, and he pivoted on his heel, arms out to try to shield Raven from the unseen threat. Another blow followed the first. Raven pushed him between the ottoman and couch, crouched beside him and whipped out her weapon.