Stolen(86)

“Did she tell you otherwise?”

Asta blew her nose. “Not exactly. And I know he loved her, but in a very possessive way. The day before she died, she called me from Paris and said something was very wrong.”

“She didn’t tell you what?” Spense set his drink on the coffee table atop an old newspaper. Thus far, he hadn’t imbibed.

“No, but she did say this was the last time she’d be part of the Chaucers’ entourage, and that Grady was furious with her when she told him so.”

“That doesn’t seem like the strongest motive. It doesn’t make him a murderer.”

“It sure doesn’t make him a considerate husband. And did you know he was accused of raping a girl in college?”

Caitlin gripped the rails of her chair.

The room seemed to be shrinking. The musty odor of newsprint and the sickly-sweet smell of whiskey and stale cigarette smoke made Caitlin want to bolt from the room for a breath of clean air.

“Grady was here on Sunday,” Asta continued. “He won’t leave me alone because he says Inga would want him to check on me. He says I’m stuck in the anger phase of grief, and I’m taking it out on him.”

“Don’t you hate it when shrinks interpret your feelings to their own advantage?”

Spense addressed Asta but sent Caitlin a look as though checking to see if she was okay.

She was. Now that she’d had a minute to process the bomb Asta had dropped.

“Let me ask you a question.” Asta’s voice turned slightly singsong from drink—this likely wasn’t her first of the morning. “If Grady has such a great alibi, and I’m the only one in creation who doesn’t believe Inga’s fall was an accident, what the hell are you two doing here?”

Caitlin rose and walked over to Asta. “Is there room for me beside you on the couch?”

Asta didn’t object so Caitlin folded down beside her and met her eyes. “I came to offer my condolences for your loss. Inga was a good person. I liked her very much. And the truth is, I want to know what happened to her, and I don’t trust Grady either. Can you tell us more about this alleged rape in college?”

Asta wiped her dripping nose with the back of her hand. “All the charges were dropped.”

“Do you know the name of the woman who accused him?” Spense asked.

“Her name is Lisa Blake.”

“I don’t suppose you know where she is now? I’d like to talk to her,” Caitlin said softly. Asta’s resigned, helpless demeanor was cracking her heart open.

“Not really. I do know that after she recanted the rape accusation, she dropped out of college and moved back in with her parents. They’ve both passed since, but she stayed put. Inga went to see her one time, just before the trip to Paris. Inga said Lisa was living in a spooky old two-story house at the top of a road that leads into the Gore Mountains.”

“Not outside Dillon? At the edge of the Eagles Nest Wilderness?” Caitlin remembered a spooky two-story house set back from the road they’d taken up to Frank’s Cabin. She’d wondered how the owners got in and out in bad weather.

“I think so. But like I said, that was a couple of years ago. I got no idea if she’s still up there.”





Chapter 46





Tuesday, October 29

1:00 P.M.

Frank’s Cabin

Eagles Nest Wilderness



Laura had nowhere else to go.

For three days now, she’d been living in the wilderness. She still had a little food and her jacket to keep her warm, but her water was gone, and she didn’t think she could survive the elements even one day without it. She was too spent.

Time to make another decision.

She’d been getting a lot of practice at that, and she was beginning to make better choices. With her heart in her throat, she stared at the map she held.

X marks the spot: Frank’s Cabin.

She closed her eyes and tried to wipe away the images of blood and feces on the floor. The silk scarves that had bound her to the chair. The knife at her throat.

Her monster.

Surely the crime scene people would’ve cleaned and cleared the cabin by now. The road was closed to the public. The hut wouldn’t reopen for the season for at least another month. There was fresh water and a cabin full of supplies.

Shelter.

This was no longer her nightmare.

This was the place where she’d found the will to survive.

Here, she wasn’t a fugitive on the run from both the law and her monster. She was a free spirit. A wanderer. Come to the cabin for rest and renewal. And like her fellow travelers, she had good in her heart. She not only wanted to live, she believed, for the first time, that she deserved to be on this planet.