The Butterfly Connection

By Sandra S. Kerns

Emma Simms is running for her life and she doesn't even know why. Ever since a cryptic email from her step-brother Eric her quiet life has been thrown into chaos. She goes to their cabin in Upstate New York to find him near death. He sends her on a cross-country trip to Colorado to find Artemis Jones and a mysterious flash drive that will explain everything. While on the road to Colorado, she discovers Eric died and not only do the authorities consider her a "person of interest", her parents believe she is responsible for her step-brother's death. In order to get her life back she must find Artemis Jones and hope he has the answers that will end this nightmare.

Artemis Jones has turned his back on civilization since the death of his wife, two years ago. He has kept in touch with one person from his former life, Eric Barron. On his way to their monthly meeting, he stops to help a woman along the road. An action he regrets immediately. When he learns she’s the step-sister of his partner the regret grows. If anyone knows his need to keep his distance, it’s his partner. So why did he send his sister to him for help?

Will Emma be able to trust this reclusive stranger to help her? Will Artemis, a loner because of past personal problems find it possible to trust Emma? Can the two of them work together to find Eric's killer?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandra S. Kerns
• Release date: Nov 12, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301205684

Sandra S. Kerns

Sandra writes romantic suspense. She enjoys speaking to writer's groups as well as libraries and reader groups. An award-winning author, she has no time to rest on her laurels. To keep her readers happy she tries to publish at least 4 novels each year and usually another Christmas novella at the end of the year. For inspiration she looks out at the Rocky Mountains from her back patio or watches the waves when she visits Cocoa Beach, Florida.

Book preview

The Butterfly Connection

Colorado Skies Series

by Sandra S. Kerns

~~~~

Published by Sandra S. Kerns, LLC at Smashwords

Editor: Joy Clintsman of Big Sister Edits

Copyright 2013 Sandra S. Kerns

Cover design by: Itsy Designs

Background Photo by: Stephen S. Kerns

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Dear Reader,

Even in thoroughly proofed and meticulously edited books, errors and typos can slip through. If you find an error in my book, please feel free to send me a personal note at [e-mail]. I endeavor to give you the best book and am always interested in your comments.

Happy reading,

Sandra

Dedication

To Colorado dreamers everywhere.

Chapter One

Emma gripped the steering wheel of the old VW bug tightly as she drove between the high, claustrophobic walls of Big Thompson canyon in the Colorado Rockies. Then the walls gave way allowing autumn sunlight to pour through the windshield. As quickly as relief pulsed through her veins, fear clutched its frigid fingers around her throat. The car went off the road and headed for a cliff.

The wheel spun uselessly when Emma tried to turn it. She pumped the brake pedal then yanked on the emergency brake. Nothing. The car sped over the gravel and dirt on the side of the road.

No. I can’t die now.

In desperation, she threw the gearshift into park. Her body slammed forward as the car came to a jarring halt. Her forehead smacked the steering wheel and bounced back. Reflex stiffened her grasp on the wheel to keep from hitting it again.

It took a few moments for the adrenaline rushing through her ears to quiet enough for Emma to realize she was still alive. With shaking fingers, she released the seatbelt and rubbed her aching shoulder. Pinpricks of light danced on the back of her eyelids as she touched the goose egg forming on her head. She wondered about her impulse to dump her Honda Civic and buy the sad little car. But, if whoever killed Eric knew where she lived, she figured they knew what kind of car she owned.

Next get-away car definitely has an air-bag, she mumbled.

Looking for the bag of snacks she’d bought at her last pit stop, she found it on the floor and pulled a soda can out. She lifted the cold can to the bump on her head and winced. Tears of pain spiced with frustration filled her eyes. It would be easy to give in and give up. A computer nerd and city girl to boot, she had no business playing private eye.

Then Eric’s last words filled her mind and a single tear trailed down her cheek.

Damn you, Eric! You promised, she screamed into the silence. Her palm slammed the steering wheel then quickly brushed away the rest of the unshed tears.

A cool breeze pulled her gaze to the open window where she came face to bark with a pine tree. Sighing in resignation, she climbed over the gearshift and out the rusty, stiff-hinged passenger door. When she straightened, the full force of the Colorado sun hit her sending another shock of pain through her head. Still shaky, she held onto the door while she snagged her sunglasses from the floorboard. Not caring whether the cliff she had avoided was two or twenty feet high, Emma didn’t bother looking. She continued to use the car for support while she assessed the situation.

Well, with no brakes and a steering wheel that had suddenly found a mind of its own, the car wouldn’t take her anywhere soon. Getting upset about something she couldn’t change would only waste energy and time she couldn’t afford. She grabbed her purse and jacket from the floor and the backpack Eric had given her off the front seat. Her eyes scanned the rest of the interior to be sure she hadn’t left anything necessary. A map caught her eye and she grabbed it.

Emma looked at her surroundings. All she saw were rock walls behind her and tall scraggly pine trees interspersed with Aspens and empty asphalt ahead. She spread the map on the hood of the car to see how far she had to go. Tongue clamped between her teeth she forced herself to focus though the squiggly lines made it difficult. It appeared about a finger’s joint distance to Aspen Ridge, the town she was looking for. That equaled about three miles she figured.

Emma pulled the backpack over her shoulders. She turned her face into the breeze and felt somewhat prepared to continue on the mission that had brought her halfway across the United States.

This Artemis Jones better be as good as you said or I swear, Eric, I’ll . . .

The ridiculous comment snagged in her throat. Bad enough you’re talking to the dead. Threatening to kill him means you’re heading off the deep end. The irony that she had almost driven off the deep end caused her to chuckle. Emma forced herself to start walking.

Forever an optimist, despite her present predicament, Emma tried to enjoy the Rocky Mountain landscape. Eric had often raved about it. Each step, however, produced a corresponding throb in her head. She told herself the fresh air and exercise would do her mind and body good after days stuck in an old car without air conditioning. Her pounding head disagreed. Ignoring it, she focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Determination is what she needed to help her in her search for the man that Eric had pleaded with her to find.

Emma still didn’t understand what had happened to her quiet orderly life except it had taken a drastic turn. It started with a cryptic email from Eric to meet him at their cabin north of Kingston, in what many people consider upstate New York. It ended four days later, with her in Colorado, trying to learn the truth of his death before the police or whoever killed him found her.

When she’d seen a newscast with her employee ID picture plastered on the screen she’d thought they believed her abducted. Shock filled her when they announced the Kingston, New York police considered her the lead suspect in Eric’s murder.

The newscast had served a purpose. It caused her to stop at a thrift store and purchase the ridiculous sandals, obnoxiously colored hippy outfit that hindered her step more than helped and why she’d let her normally braided hair fly loose and tangle in her backpack.

She hitched the skirt up tucked it around her belt and renewed her determination to find the town and the man her brother had mentioned. The sledgehammer in her head faded with her concentration.

You are going to pay for this, Eric. I like concrete under my feet when I walk, Emma grumbled as she continued hiking beside the mountain road. Lack of response did not stop her griping. What could a man in Colorado possibly have to do with my safety in New York?

A car sped around the curve halting her questions. The gust of wind blew the gauze fabric of her dress into a frenzy and dust into her eyes. Reflex had her hands covering her face while she blinked rapidly. When her eyes stopped stinging, she looked up the road. At least another mile stood between her and Aspen Ridge. An uphill mile. Why couldn’t he live in Denver? That’s a city. You know I do cities better than country, Eric. Why did he have to live in the mountains?

This time the silence irritated her. Why the hell am I asking you now? You never answered my questions when you were alive. I guess it’s too much to expect you to send me some kind of cosmic message now that you’ve gone upstairs. Aughhh. Shaking her fist at the sky, she adjusted the backpack and bag she carried and continued her hike.

Concern that someone would recognize her as she made her way across the country to Colorado had dogged her every mile. She might be thousands of miles away from home but she wouldn’t chance asking for help. Not yet. Eric had warned her to trust no one but Artemis Jones. The note she’d found stuffed in the backpack told her she could find him in Aspen Ridge.

Lost in her thoughts the blare of a horn snapped her back to the side of the road just in time. Hey. She jumped sideways dropping her bag and stumbling a few steps as a car took the turn too sharply and almost hit her.

Jerk, she yelled shaking her fist as it drove on without even slowing down. Emma turned at the sound of another vehicle slowing and pulling up behind her as several others kept going. She shielded her eyes from the glare of sun as she waited for the driver to get out.

She tried but couldn’t see through the windshield from where she stood. The glare on it added to the obvious tinting made it appear black. Why the hell was the guy taking so long, she wondered. Then the driver’s door finally opened.

Emma watched a hiking boot appear under the door. As it finally reached the ground, she calculated how tall its owner must be by the fact the truck had oversized wheels and she could still see dark hair above the door. About six four, she thought and a shiver ran through her as another booted foot joined the first then stepped back. The man closed the door.

A jolt of lightning wouldn’t have sent as much electricity through her as his gaze did. They were at least twenty feet apart and he had sunglasses on, but Emma could feel the intensity in him. An uncharacteristic fear followed the shock of awareness. She wondered if her Good Samaritan could be more dangerous than the person who had almost hit her. Even with self-defense classes, a man this big would definitely have the upper hand. He took a step toward her.

Emma stepped back. The man stopped.

Are you all right? he asked. He reached up removing the sunglasses from his face.

Emma wished he hadn’t. His gaze was even more intense as it scanned her from head to toe and back. When again it met her own, she felt like she had attached jumper cables wrong and someone had started the car. F-f, she cleared her throat. Fine, thanks for stopping. Geez, Louise. You’d think you’d never seen a man before, Emma.

For a moment, they remained that way. Emma assessing him and him, well hell, she didn’t know what he was doing. His eyes had narrowed and he looked displeased.

Big surprise, Emma. Turned another man off. She closed her eyes trying to tamp down the ridiculous disappointment the realization brought. Even the boring bank manager she’d dated had found someone better. Why should a man’s man like this be interested? Her eyes popped open when she heard his truck door open again. Relief filled her knowing she wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. Unfortunately, he didn’t leave. He seemed to be wrestling with something behind the seat. Then he closed the door and started walking toward her again.

Drink this.

He held out a bottle of water. Thirst won out over her brain debating the stupidity of drinking something offered by a stranger. She did, however, note the unbroken seal of the cap. Twisting it, she opened the bottle and drank deeply.

Warm but wet the water felt like life’s essence itself as she gulped it down. Knowing she shouldn’t drink it all too fast she lowered the bottle. Thank you.

You shouldn’t be hiking without water.

Emma glanced down at her dress and the stupid rope sandals on her feet. She raised her arms causing the bright pink flowing sleeves of the hippy dress she’d bought, to blow in the light breeze like wings. Do I look like I’m hiking? A raised eyebrow was his response. Okay, so being sarcastic to your rescuer probably wasn’t the most polite way to act but, geez. I apologize. It’s been a helluva day. And no, I’m not hiking. My car broke down a couple of miles down the road.

She took another drink while he seemed to be deciding what to do next. I’m just going to Aspen Ridge. It isn’t much farther, is it? she asked.

No.

Wouldn’t want him to waste words by telling me how far it is, Emma thought. Deciding Eric had been wrong and people here weren’t any friendlier to strangers than in New York, she forced a smile. Well, thanks for stopping and the water, she said holding up the bottle like a salute. She bent to pick up her bag and lost her balance when she straightened. Whoa, she said as the world started to spin.

Shit, her rescuer cursed as he caught her by the arm.

Emma grasped his other arm with her free hand as she tried to steady herself. Corded muscle tensed under her fingers. She concentrated on its strength while waiting for hers to return. Needing help was a new experience for her and one she didn’t think she liked. Releasing her hold, she lifted her head and offered the man an awkward smile.

Guess I shouldn’t have moved so fast. Thanks, again. I’ll--

I’ll take you, he interrupted and took a step toward the truck without releasing his hold.

Emma dug in her heals causing him to stop. That isn’t necessary.

He looked down at her. You can’t even take two steps without falling over.

That yanked her out of his stare’s hold. She pulled her arm from his hand. Haven’t you ever stood up too fast? That’s all it is.

He met her gaze. Holding up one hand, he started to pull down fingers with the other as he began to speak. You were in an accident and--

Accident? The guy missed me.

Your head, he said, pointing a finger at her.

In her frustration, Emma had forgotten about the bump from earlier. Oh, it wasn’t an accident. The brakes went out on my car, then, believe it or not, the worm gear snapped, and when I threw it into park to stop, I banged my head on the steering wheel. No accident.

She could tell her explanation didn’t change his mind by the way he shook his head but she really didn’t want a lecture. She also had to admit, she didn’t want to walk anymore. The ridiculous sandals had caused blisters on her toes as well as her ankles.

Never mind. I’ll take the ride. Thank you.

Following him the last few steps to the truck, she really looked at him. His six four frame towered over her and his shoulders were as wide as a door. She remembered the strength in his arm when she’d held onto him. He could have overpowered her but hadn’t. That and his reluctant Good Samaritan actions put her at ease.

He opened the passenger door, reached inside and pushed something off the seat. Turning he offered his hand to help her up to the high seat.

Placing one foot on the step by the door, she placed her hand in his. Emma exerted little effort as his strength propelled her into the seat. She shrugged off her backpack letting it join the camping gear she found on the floorboard as he closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. She noticed him glance at his watch. That had her looking at her own and realizing she was late for the meeting Eric had mentioned in his note and wanted her to make in his place.

How much farther is it to Aspen Ridge? she asked when he climbed in the truck.

We’ll be there in less than five minutes, he said and put the truck in gear. There’s not a garage in Aspen Ridge, but you can call Carson’s in the next town.

Emma hoped the person she was supposed to meet wouldn’t leave before she got there. She prayed the Ridge Diner wasn’t hard to find. She had the answer to her prayer when she realized he had pulled up in front of the very diner she was looking for and parked.

They have a pay phone here, he said. Then I suggest you get something to eat and drink some more. You don’t want to get altitude sickness. He opened his door and climbed out.

Before he made it around the hood of the truck, Emma got out herself. As she reached for the backpack, he reached over her and lifted it out then stepped back. She did the same and he closed the door and locked the truck.

Pay phone’s back there, he said pointing to one end of the diner as they walked inside. He set down her pack and walked in the other direction before Emma could reply or even say thank you.

Deciding not to waste time on the frustrating dismissal, Emma picked up her pack and walked toward the dining room, too. The call to the garage could wait. She was already late to the meeting. She had to see if the guy was still here. Eric’s note had told her the man would be in the last booth on the left in the back of the dining area. The lighting in this room was much dimmer than the front where windows allowed the sunshine to pour in. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. When they did, she shook her head and walked toward the booth.

He sat with his head bent, rubbing his temples. The waitress had set two glasses of water on the table. Obviously, he was expecting someone. If this was the right guy, he was waiting for Eric. Emma wondered if he would be as surprised as she at this turn of events.

Excuse me, she said when she reached the table and he didn’t look up. When he met her gaze, she saw the wariness in his eyes.

Yes?

Emma heard the slight irritation in his voice. He probably thought she was going to ask for more help. Okay, she was, but not because she wanted to.

You’re Artemis Jones? Emma watched his eyes and wasn’t surprised when the wariness turned to a blank, unreadable, stare.

# # #

Artemis quickly went through his memory searching for a time, other than ten minutes ago, when he’d met this woman. He found none.

Artemis Jones? he asked.

He didn’t have to pretend to be confused; he was, for two reasons. One, he knew she hadn’t asked anyone his name so how did she know it. Two, glancing around the room he found no one who appeared interested in their exchange. That was the real kicker. People here expected him to eat alone or with Eric. Not this siren.

Her abundant, curly, red hair had caught his attention on the road before he noticed the car aiming for her. It now cascaded over her shoulders like the waves in the Big Thompson River behind the diner. Not auburn or strawberry blonde, but an uncommonly vibrant red. Her clothes were equally flamboyant. The tie-dyed, primarily hot pink fabric flowed around her, continuing the river. Artemis couldn’t have chosen someone more likely to draw attention to him if he wanted to.

And he certainly didn’t.

Habit and repetition made a person invisible. For that reason, he always sat at the same table in the darkest corner of the room, on the same day of the month, at the same time of day, ordered the same thing, and rarely had company. He preferred being invisible. It suited him and his purpose.

Never mind. It couldn’t be that easy. She started to turn away.

What couldn’t be that easy? Why the hell did he have to ask, Artemis berated himself. Why had he picked her up in the first place? He knew rescuing women was not his forte.

Finding Artemis Jones, she said turning back and offering a small smile.

That small smile held more light than he’d seen in years. He preferred darkness. Light cast shadows, and shadows usually meant trouble. Better to let her go and take her light with her. Why do you need to find him? Shit, man. What the hell are you doing?

It was my brother’s last request. Eric said to find him and--

Eric? Artemis interrupted, almost choking on the name. She nodded. It couldn’t be, but he had to ask. Eric Barron? Her nodded reply sent his blood pressure skyrocketing. His heartbeat pounded in his chest.

Eric’s dead?

~~~~

Chapter Two

Artemis stared at her. Mechanically he reached for his wallet and threw some bills on the table to pay for the meal he and Eric would never eat. Because Eric’s, dead. The words reverberated in his mind like an old album scratched on the one line of a song you didn’t like.

While his brain tried to digest the information on a personal level, years of training allowed him to function on another. Let’s go, he said. It was a relief when she didn’t question him but just nodded. Artemis needed to get away from prying eyes to deal with this news, but he dare not leave her behind.

His hand firmly wrapped around her elbow, he guided her from the restaurant back to his truck. He stopped. Where’s your car?

A few miles down the road.

He’d have to check the car out later; right now, he needed more information. He climbed into the truck, glanced at her, and noticed she had already buckled her seatbelt. Without a word, he started the engine and pulled out.

The moment she had said Eric’s name Artemis understood the dark emotions that had followed him the past several days. Eric’s last e-mail had been short and cryptic. That in itself wasn’t unusual. The unsettling part had been the lack of follow-up. Now Artemis knew why.

Eric Barron, his partner and closest thing to a friend he had, was dead.

To push aside the emotions crowding him, Artemis turned to his training. Before asking the woman any questions, he searched his own memory of Eric and his family. They didn’t speak about personal life much so it took a few minutes before he remembered Eric’s sister.

You’re Emma? Eric’s stepsister?

Yes.

Great, she was going to hold things as close to the vest as he did. This could take some time. Time being something he doubted they had a lot of.

How did Eric die? And why did he send you looking for me? When silence greeted his question, he looked at Emma. Her hands twisted on her lap and she remained silent. Her lips, once a tempting shade of pink, were now drawn in a tight pale line. He tightened his grip on the wheel even more.

How? he asked again. Briefly, her head turned and he caught a quick glimpse of pain in her eyes.

Shot. Murdered. And . . . I--I’m the prime suspect.

You? She nodded. He couldn’t imagine it but asked. Why?

The police found my bloody hand print at the cabin when they found his body.

You found his body?

No, God. He was still alive when I left. I swear.

Artemis felt her gaze focus on him, imploring him to believe her. He needed more information before giving that kind of reassurance. How did the hand print get there?

Eric sent me a note to meet him at the cabin. When I arrived, I found him propped against the counter, pointing a gun at me with blood flowing from his shoulder. I didn’t think, just pressed my hand to the wound. Later I must have rested it on the floor when he almost passed out.

Why did you leave if he was in such bad shape? Why not wait for help? You did call for help. He glanced over at her suddenly still figure.

He wouldn’t let me. He told me help was on the way, he’d called. He was acting crazy. He said I had to leave. That I was in danger and needed to come find you. You would have a flash-drive that would sort everything out. I didn’t want to upset him more so I waited and called 911 when I got to my car.

Her explanation rang true. Eric could be very persuasive, especially when in a bad situation. At least she had called. He continued his interrogation. What kind of danger? What flash-drive? What else do the police have on you?

I don’t know.

Her quiet response, compared to her previous heated reply made him doubt her words. Tell me, I’ll find out one way or another.

She turned her head toward the window. Whatever she was keeping to herself was either serious or embarrassing. Artemis voted for serious considering the circumstances.

I honestly don’t know what kind of danger, or what flash-drive. Eric said he sent that to you. As far as the police having anything on me, I can’t think of any evidence they could have.

But?

"But Eric’s dad, Senator Barron, told them I was estranged