Manhunt. Carla Cassidy

good right now.”

      The two men walked out of the police station together. “You’ll have to help me out here. Since I’ve been in town, the only place I’ve been is to Ruby’s Café and I didn’t notice beer on the menu.”

      Clay smiled. “No, but if you go in after six at night, you’ll probably smell it on her breath. The best place for a beer and a little quiet talk is Sanford’s. It’s just down the block. We can walk there.”

      For a moment the two men walked in silence. Nick had already sized Clay up as a highly intelligent man with a knack for finding evidence when none seemed to have been left behind. He had a feeling Clay still hadn’t made up his mind about what kind of man Nick might be.

      That was all right. Nick didn’t trust a man who jumped to conclusions too quickly. “Heard your family recently went through a pretty traumatic experience,” Nick said.

      Clay looked at him in surprise. “Where’d you hear that?”

      “When I spoke with Chief Cleburg initially he told me that he intended for you to work with me and he told me about your mother’s kidnapping. He also told me that if it hadn’t been for your stubborn diligence and work, she might have never been found.”

      “Thankfully, we found her before she suffered any physical harm,” Clay replied.

      “How’s she doing now?”

      Clay’s mouth curved up in a grin. “You’d have to know my mother to understand that she’s a survivor. She’s exactly like she was before the kidnapping…enjoying life and her family.”

      “That’s good to hear,” Nick said as they entered the darkened interior of Sanford’s. It was a typical small-town tavern, with pool tables in the back, a layer of thick smoke hanging in the air and a bar counter that had probably felt a thousand elbows resting on it.

      Clay motioned to the bar and the two men slid onto stools. They ordered their drinks from a burly bartender who appeared to double as bouncer, as well.

      “Are you staying out at the motel?” Clay asked.

      “No, I’m staying at the Redbud Bed-and-Breakfast here on the square,” Nick replied.

      “Ah, my cousin’s place.”

      Nick looked at him in surprise. “Alyssa Whitefeather is your cousin?”

      “A close cousin. My mother raised her from the time she was eleven. She’s more like another sister than a cousin.” Clay took a sip of his beer, then continued. “I want you to know I intend to put all my time and energy into finding the bastard who’s killing the men of our town,” Clay said. “But the first thing I need to do is request Saturday off duty. I’m getting married that day.”

      “Married? And you’re just asking for one day off?”

      “My fiancée, Tamara, knows how important this case is. I’ve promised her a real honeymoon when we catch this creep.” Clay wrapped his hands around his beer glass. “You know, most of the town is going to turn out for the wedding. Maybe you should come, see the town people at play.”

      “I wouldn’t want to intrude on such a personal ceremony,” Nick protested.

      “Trust me, it wouldn’t be an intrusion, but if you are uncomfortable coming alone, I’ll set it up with Alyssa and the two of you can come together.”

      Nick instantly felt a spike in his adrenaline, although he fought to keep his enthusiasm for the idea out of his voice. “Isn’t it possible she might already have an escort?”

      “Alyssa? Nah, she never dates. I’m sure she’s planning on going alone.”

      “Then that would be great. I could have a look at the folks there and won’t feel so out of place if I’m with a family member.”

      “Then consider it done. I’ll call Alyssa tonight and set it up with her.”

      “Alyssa…is she on medication for her epilepsy?” Nick asked.

      There was no mistaking the blank look in Clay’s dark eyes. “Epilepsy?” he repeated slowly, as if the word was utterly foreign to his vocabulary.

      “Yeah, I walked in on her last night and she was, like, in a trance. I asked her if she had epilepsy and was having some sort of seizure and she said yes.”

      “So, she told you she has epilepsy? No, she isn’t on any kind of medication.” Clay lifted the beer glass to his lips, his gaze focused away from Nick.

      And in that instant Nick suspected that Alyssa Whitefeather didn’t have epilepsy at all. She’d lied to him, and Clay was merely trying to cover her tracks. Interesting.

      If she didn’t have epilepsy…if she hadn’t been suffering a petit mal seizure when he’d seen her in his room the night before, then what had she been doing? Why had she appeared like a woman in a trance…a woman completely gone from the real world and its surroundings?

      The only answer could be she was hiding something from him. But why?

      Chapter 4

      Livid and a little bit afraid…it was the only way to describe the emotions that roared through Alyssa as she dressed for Clay and Tamara’s wedding early Saturday morning.

      She couldn’t believe that Clay had manipulated her into bringing Nick along. She didn’t want to go with him, didn’t want to spend any time in his company. She wanted nothing at all to do with the man.

      It was bad enough that for the last two mornings he’d been the first one up, forcing her to interact with him without buffers between them. She’d been pleasant but short, not encouraging small talk.

      However, that didn’t keep her from being intensely aware of his every movement when she served him in the mornings. Despite his initial claim not to be a breakfast eater, for the last two mornings he’d enjoyed a big serving of her biscuits and gravy. He was a neat eater, never leaving behind a mess.

      Neat eater or not, as far as she was concerned, it was vital that she keep as much distance from the man as possible. Her plan for the day was to escort him to the wedding, introduce him to people, then leave him to his own devices until the wedding celebration was over.

      As she brushed her hair, she realized that it was difficult to hang on to her foul mood. It was rare she took a day off and even more rare that she got to enjoy a traditional ceremony with friends and loved ones.

      Mary had agreed to come in this morning and take care of the breakfast preparations and run the business for the entire day, leaving Alyssa free to simply enjoy the wedding of her best friend, Tamara Greystone, and her cousin, Clay.

      She finished brushing her hair and stepped back from the mirror, eyeing her reflection critically. She had considered wearing a traditional Cherokee tear dress, but at the last minute had changed her mind.

      There would be plenty of people wearing traditional clothing today, but Alyssa had opted for a cool mint-green sundress. Dainty white hoops decorated her earlobes and white sandals completed the outfit.

      She looked at her watch. Almost eight. It was time to go. Nick had been surprised when she’d told him the night before that she would be leaving the house around eight in the morning.

      She had a feeling he had no idea what he was in for, had probably never experienced a traditional Cherokee wedding ceremony. As far as Alyssa was concerned, there was nothing more beautiful, more spiritual and filled with more community bonding than a Cherokee wedding.

      Looking at her watch again, she realized she couldn’t put it off any longer. It was time to leave her private quarters and take Nick to a wedding.

      He was waiting for her in the front foyer, looking cool and far too sexy in a beige, lightweight suit that complemented his blue eyes and dark hair. “Ready?” she asked briskly.

      His gaze swept her,