It was time for her to go.
Not daring to face the desk clerk, she threw her things into her pack, and left three twenty-dollar bills on the bed to cover her tab. Then she sat down on the floor, drew her knees to her chest, and stared at the wall.
She had to get out of this place, but she had no idea where to go.
There was a bounty on her head . . . call it a reward if you liked. There was nowhere she wouldn’t be recognized. She tugged at the sleeves of her jacket and adjusted the pressure of the straps on her pack. Then she looked down at her boots and thought of the code of the hikers:
Take what you need and leave what you can for others.
From her side pocket, she pulled out the map of the Eagles Nest Wilderness. If she caught a bus to Dillon, she could slowly make her way up the road on foot. She could practically hear the mountains calling out to her to come home—to return to the place where she’d been abused, yet still survived. A place where there was evil, but where there was also the promise of good.
And it was that glimpse of the good in others that gave her hope.
Decided now, she stood up and opened the door to her room.
She peeked into the hallway, and noting the coast was clear, hurried out the back door.
Chapter 41
Monday, October 28
8:00 A.M.
Boulder, Colorado
Caity raised the blinds in the study letting in a small burst of light. Even in the morning the room was dim.
Over a sip of coffee, Spense nodded at her.
She took a drink of hers and sent back her usual sunny smile.
Just like he hadn’t proposed to her last night, and she hadn’t turned him down, and afterward they hadn’t had the most awkward family dinner ever.
Okay.
If that was how she wanted to play it, he’d go along. If he tried to force a discussion now, it would only give her tinder to fire up that old our relationship is interfering with our work argument anyway.
Nope. He had nothing else to say on the matter.
Last night he’d opened up to her, unzipped himself like a winter coat, and she’d just stood there with her arms crossed, unwilling to accept the warmth and protection he’d offered her. And the things she’d said about his father had been like a knife to the gut, which she’d then plunged deeper by her rejection.
One hand tightened at his side, as bile rose in his throat.
Then he looked at her, and regret made his head dip down to his chest. That knife-to-the-gut comparison was unfair of him—he’d taken her by surprise, and she’d had questions. That wasn’t exactly unreasonable. He could see the dark circles painted around her eyes, the pale tinge to her skin. She hadn’t slept well.
But the bile in his mouth tasted bitter.
He, too, had not slept well—if at all.
After dinner, the moms had pulled him aside and let him know he needed to give Caity space. They were sure she’d come around in time. But as far as he was concerned, she’d already had plenty of both—time and space.
Ball was in her court.
Until she came to her senses and figured out what she was missing, he was all business.
Screw this stupid ache in his heart.
“So what if . . .” Spense drained his coffee cup and tossed his cube in the air. He caught it, solved it, put it in his pocket.
Business as usual.
“Awesome, we’re playing the what if game.” Caity finished her coffee and set the cup on the desk, then settled into an easy chair and pulled her bare feet up, hugging her knees to her chest. She had on a white scoop-neck T-shirt and jeans. Luckily, her bent knees covered most of her cleavage, making it easier for him to think about something other than grabbing her and kissing her.
“What if the dates in Cayman’s passport put him in a certain city at the same time our mystery woman went missing—assuming she did, that is?” he asked.
“Then it doesn’t look good for Cayman, but it does look good for our predator theory. Let’s cross-reference his passport dates with local newspaper articles. For example, this stamp puts him in Wiesbaden in March, twelve years ago.”
They each opened their respective laptops.
Before the proposal fiasco last night, Spense had loaded his up with facial recognition software.
The sound of fingers flying over keyboards filled the silence. A few minutes later, he began to breathe normally again.
He could do this.
In fact he needed to do this to prove to Caity that no matter how weird things got between them, they could still take care of business—because their business was really important.
People’s lives depended on it.
“I got nothing. No missing or dead women in Wiesbaden in March, twelve years ago,” she said.
“If we found her on the first try, we’d miss the thrill of the chase.”