The Spring At Moss Hill. Carla Neggers
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He hadn’t been wearing a coat and tie. A denim jacket, khakis. That didn’t tell her much.
If he decided to come after her, she needed to get moving, because he’d be fast.
She pulled off her running jacket and crossed the grassy strip to the driveway that led to the garage under her building. When she reached the pedestrian entrance, she stopped, keys in hand, and groaned.
She had the wrong man. Russ Colton wasn’t the investigator she’d seen last summer. He was the man up in the meeting room.
Had to be.
“How to draw attention to yourself when you don’t want attention,” Kylie muttered to herself. “Run like a lunatic.”
What now? Go up to her apartment, lock herself in and hope for the best? Buck up and introduce herself to her new neighbor, act as if she hadn’t seen him and bolted?
Take a long bike ride?
Fly to Paris?
The bike ride won.
She went inside and took the stairs up to the main level and headed out to the breezeway and the bike rack. She wore a thigh-length dark purple sweater, black leggings and sneakers with highly visible bright orange laces.
The man from the meeting room was standing by a blue sedan in the parking lot.
No avoiding him now.
“You must be Russ Colton,” Kylie said, leaning against her bike. “Ruby O’Dunn mentioned you’d be arriving today from California. Kylie Shaw. I live here.”
“You’re my new neighbor, then. Sorry if I startled you.”
He walked toward her. He’d put on sunglasses, which had a way of making him look even more humorless.
She decided not to deny he’d startled her. He probably wouldn’t believe her, anyway. “No problem.” She grabbed her bike helmet off the handlebars where she’d left it yesterday. “Did you just get here?”
“Here to Moss Hill. I arrived in Boston a few hours ago.”
“Ah. You took the red-eye. It has an appropriate name, doesn’t it”
He smiled. “It does, but it’s not the reason I’m wearing sunglasses.” He pointed a thick finger at the blue sky. “The sun is.”
A sense of humor. Kylie was encouraged. “I work at home. Feel free to knock on my door if you need anything.”
“I will, thank you. What kind of work do you do?”
“I’m a freelance illustrator.”
“You’re not registered for Daphne Stewart’s class next Saturday.”
“I only just learned about it. I’ve been busy with work the past few months and haven’t paid attention.”
“Do you know Ava and Ruby O’Dunn well?”
Kylie shook her head. “Not well. Do you?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting them yet. I’m here on behalf of Daphne Stewart.”
“So Ruby said. Fantastic she’s taking the time to give a lecture in little Knights Bridge. It’s very generous of her.” Kylie tried to look nonchalant. She wanted to keep the focus away from herself. “When I saw you—”
“Deer in the headlights.” He gave her an easy smile. “You froze for a split second, and then you bolted. I sometimes have that effect on people. Again, sorry.”
She returned his smile. “I didn’t freeze. I just bolted. Do people tend to run when they see you?”
“Not always. Sometimes I wish they’d run, and they don’t.”
“Comes with the job, I imagine. I had a different Russ Colton in mind. I thought you’d be the man who accompanied Miss Stewart last time she was in town. I didn’t meet either of them, but I saw him.”
“You were expecting Julius Hartley?” Russ grinned. “That’s awesome. I can’t wait to tell him.”
“Sounds as if that one will keep you two laughing over your beers for a while.” Kylie couldn’t wait to get out of there. “Well, it’s a beautiful day. I love springtime in New England. I’ll be off on my bike ride now. Good to meet you, Mr. Colton. Enjoy your stay.”
“Thanks. Enjoy your bike ride.”
He returned to his car as she climbed onto her bike. As she rode across the parking lot to the exit, she was positive he was watching her, but she didn’t look back to make sure.
She turned up the road, away from the village, welcoming the cool air and the sounds of the river tumbling toward the dam.
Russ Colton wasn’t what she expected on a Sunday morning at Moss Hill.
Any morning at Moss Hill.
As she rounded a curve, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and remembered she hadn’t called her sister back. She stopped next to the guardrail and checked her messages. A text, but not from Lila.
It’s Ruby. Join us for lunch at Smith’s at 12:30.
Kylie blinked at the text. Lunch? In the ten months she’d lived in Knights Bridge, no one in town had ever invited her to lunch, nor had she invited anyone to lunch. She hadn’t even realized Ruby had her phone number.
Something was up.
Thanks but...
Kylie hesitated, then deleted the but.
Thanks I’d love to join you.
Great.
And that was that. She was joining Ruby O’Dunn for lunch.
Russ got his bag out of the back of his rented car. He’d watched Kylie Shaw until she disappeared around a bend on the winding country road in cute little Nowhere, Massachusetts. She was blonde, pretty and quick. He hadn’t expected her to get the jump on him outside the meeting room.
And she was cagey.
“Now, why is that, I wonder?”
An interesting development, his Moss Hill neighbor.
He took the covered breezeway to the residential entrance. Ruby O’Dunn had left keys to the two buildings in a flowerpot. First place Russ would look without instructions. Basic security at the renovated hat factory—his home for the next few days—was rudimentary but could easily be improved should the need or desire arise.
He’d had no trouble finding Knights Bridge or Moss Hill, even without GPS. When he’d pulled into the mill’s parking lot, he’d noticed the mud-encrusted bike, unlocked, leaning crookedly on a stand. Now it was occupied by his neighbor.
She obviously wasn’t thrilled to have him bunking across the hall, but she’d been expecting Julius Hartley. Probably would take a while to sort that one out in her mind. Russ had that effect sometimes. Maybe it was his scary eyes.
He could always unzip his jacket and show more of the palm-tree shirt Marty had given him.
Russ located his apartment and went inside, dropping his bag on the floor by the front door. He liked the industrial loft feel and modern furnishings of the place. Late morning sunlight streamed through the huge arched windows overlooking the dam and river. The design allowed residents privacy and solitude while also not being too isolated, at least by Knights Bridge standards.
Nice.
It’d do for his short stay. He’d done worse in his day. Much worse.
Did Kylie Shaw like being isolated? Was that what he was sensing with her caginess—it had more to do with his intrusion into her space? Moss