Stolen(26)

A pang of pity assailed her—for Inga. “Is that what you followed me in here to say?”

“Yes. Your behavior’s been strange, and I just wanted to make sure you didn’t have the idea I still . . .”

Caitlin hadn’t really had time to process the news of Inga’s death. Though they hadn’t been close, she’d always liked her. She remembered Inga compassionately reaching out to touch a patient’s hand during rounds. She remembered the lively way Inga debated the merits of Freud versus Skinner with her fellow residents. She remembered Inga humming as she worked on her progress notes. She remembered Inga alive. The pressure of unshed tears rose behind Caitlin’s eyes, and her shoulders softened as the anger she felt for Grady slowly drained from her heart.

He’d lost his wife.

“I’m truly sorry for your loss.” She met his eyes, her own moist. “I thought the world of Inga. And I want you to know, that even though you could’ve chosen a better way of getting my ear, I am glad we had this talk. I’d like to put the past behind us. I’d like to move forward without animosity—as colleagues.” She took a breath. She felt compelled to add, “Colleagues and nothing more. We’re going to have to stay in touch regarding this case, so I’d like to keep a good working relationship.”

“Colleagues only. We’re on the same page. What a relief.” He extended his hand, and she gladly shook it. “You go ahead,” he said, as though she were a maiden with her reputation in danger. “I’ll wait here for a minute, and then I’ll leave the same way I came in.”

She felt relieved, too, but not for long. As she exited the room, she caught Grady’s reflection in the mirror, and the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Grady didn’t notice her watching him watching her . . . because his lascivious gaze was glued to her bottom.





Chapter 13





Late afternoon

Near Frank’s Cabin

Eagles Nest Wilderness

Colorado



Another dead end.

Like the others she’d taken before it, this turned out not to be a trail at all.

Laura’s muscles strained eagerly, propelling her body into a ready crouch as she peered down over the edge of a precipice. How perverse that just a couple of hours after the burning will to live sent her running out of Frank’s Cabin, she found herself battling a powerful urge to jump off a cliff.

Instead of hurtling from the ledge, she scooped up a stone and tossed it over. Her gaze jealously followed its arc for as long as she could make out its path. It tumbled down, down, down. That lucky rock easily found its way off the mountain. A task that was proving difficult for her. When she’d gone tearing out of the cabin, sheer adrenaline had fueled her flight, blocking out all awareness of physical discomfort. It wasn’t until later that she’d noticed the shooting pains in her side and the watery ache in her legs. The places where her ill-fitting borrowed boots abraded her feet.

She didn’t think she’d been followed, but that didn’t mean she was safe. Whether those were her monster’s footsteps she’d heard outside the cabin or someone else’s, he would be looking for her.

Hunting her.

If not now, then soon—the very moment he learned her dead body wasn’t lying on that cabin floor.

She indulged in one last glance at the gaping chasm below, then walked to a less tempting distance from the ledge. The trudge up the mountain had exhausted her almost as quickly as the sun had begun to sink in the sky. And no matter how hard she’d studied her topo map, she simply hadn’t been able to find her way. A half-dozen false trails had led her farther and farther up the mountain.

She was badly lost.

According to the map, Frank’s Cabin was only a few miles from Dillon, but once the sun went down, she’d be surrounded by the darkest kind of night—the kind without city lights. She couldn’t risk trying to make it to town tonight—and when she did get there, to whom would she turn?

Shading her eyes with her hand, she surveyed the area. That group of boulders over there would make a good enough spot to camp. She could spread a blanket at the base, and the weathered rocks would shield her not only from view, but from the wind and cold. It would be a long night, but she had warm clothing and supplies, and there was no way she’d ever find the road in the dark.

Huddling in the shelter of the boulders, she settled in. Despite her fatigue, she felt mentally stronger. The air was clean, and the shadow of evil that hung over the cabin was nowhere to be found. It was another world out here, a beautiful, wondrous place where lodge pole pines and quaking aspen gave way to ground-hugging grasses, knee timber, and eventually alpine meadows. A world so unlike the prison of a home she’d grown up in.