Читать книгу Rocky Mountain Manhunt - Cassie Miles - Страница 13

While Kate showered, Liam threw together a sandwich. His mood was pensive and concerned. He’d dragged Kate halfway back to civilization. Now he had to figure out what came next.

The problem was Wayne Silverman. He was still missing, and Kate was, most likely, the last person who had seen him. She was a witness. As such, Liam should have turned her over to the authorities for questioning.

But she was also a victim who was scared to death. She needed protection. His protection.

Her need was enough reason for him to bend the rules and keep her safely hidden away at his cabin. She wouldn’t be much use as a witness, anyway. Not while she couldn’t remember what had happened.

Her memory loss was the second big problem. Amnesia wasn’t much of an alibi; the police would be skeptical. And when the media got hold of her story, all hell would break loose. Might as well call the tabloids right now.

Things would go a lot easier for Kate if she could remember. Last night, when he’d talked about her family, she seemed to have recall, and it stood to reason that more data might jog her memory. Photos and articles. The kind of information that Colorado Crime Consultants might have on file.

On the kitchen phone, he punched in the number for CCC. The office manager, Molly Griffith, greeted him warmly. Though they’d only met once, she remembered him. “You’re the pilot from Grand Lake. What’s up?”

“Is Adam there?”

“He’s out on a case. I can help.”

To tell the truth, Liam was relieved to be talking to Molly instead of her boss. Briggs was a stickler for following the letter of the law. No way would he approve of Kate staying at Liam’s cabin.

“I found Kate Carradine,” he said.

“Dead or alive?” Molly was blunt and straightforward. He suspected that she was all too accustomed to hearing the worst about missing persons.

“Very much alive,” he assured her. “Kate’s in good physical condition.”

“Un-freaking-believable!” Molly enthused. “She’s been missing for nearly a month. It’s amazing that she survived. Where are you?”

“My cabin.”

“How long will it take you to get here? I’ll call her mother right away and—”

“Hold up,” Liam said. “I want you to wait before making the notifications. Kate’s scared and confused. She can’t remember what happened to her.”

“Amnesia?”

“Exactly,” he said. “I need a day or two to calm her down.”

“You know we don’t work like that,” Molly said. “CCC always cooperates with the cops.”

“It’s not the police that worry me,” he said. “There’s going to be a media frenzy. Kate needs time to prepare herself.”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone while Molly considered. Then she said, “One more day can’t hurt.”

“Thanks, Molly.”

“Adam won’t be happy about this plan, but I’ll convince him.” Molly had a lot of brass. She needed a strong personality to deal with her boss. “What can I do to help?”

“Like I said, she has amnesia. It’d be useful if Kate could see more information on the Carradine family. Fax me anything you have. Photographs would be good.”

“I put together a file when her mother contacted us,” Molly said. “Consider it faxed.”

He disconnected the call, finished off his sandwich and made himself another. After only one night on Kate’s regimen of weeds and bitter tea, he was starving.

Sandwich in hand, he went outside and stood on the front porch to eat. The view always gave him pleasure. He owned eight acres, but the surrounding national forest made his location seem vast. His nearest neighbors were 2.7 miles down the road, and they weren’t often home. Still, he was able to drive into Grand Lake in about half an hour, and he had all the comforts. His solitude was nothing compared to Kate’s experience.

With the second sandwich devoured, he went back into the house and headed toward his office to pick up the faxes from Molly. As he passed the closed bathroom door, he didn’t hear noise from the shower. “Kate? How are you doing in there?”

“You wouldn’t happen to have a blow-dryer?”

“No.”

“Mousse?”

“Sorry.”

She opened the door. “I’m sure mascara is out of the question.”

She looked damn cute in his nephew’s jeans and T-shirt. Though she was skinny, her curves were unmistakably feminine. Her waist was tiny, and her butt filled out the denim quite nicely. Though her hair was still spiky from being wet, her overall appearance was more tamed. “You look good.”

“Not hardly,” she said. “I don’t care what the Duchess of Windsor said about how you can’t be too thin or too rich. This is too much.”

“Too much thin? Or too much rich?”

“I don’t know about the rich part. You seem to think my family is loaded.”

He remembered his initial destination: the fax machine in his office. “We’ll find out.”

She leaned toward him. Her nose crinkled as she inhaled. “You smell like a ham sandwich. I want one.”

Stepping inside his office, he scooped a handful of pages from the fax. He wasn’t surprised by the speedy response; Molly was efficient.

Then, he led the way to the kitchen. “There’s the fridge. Help yourself.”

She stood with the refrigerator door wide open. “Everything. I want everything.”

Moving at warp speed, she grabbed bread, mayo and lunch meat. Before she put together a sandwich, she was distracted by an orange which she juggled from hand to hand before biting into the rind. In seconds, she had it peeled. Two sections popped into her mouth. The cheese didn’t reach the countertop. Kate folded the slice and devoured it.

“Potato chips!” She snatched the bag from the counter and ripped it open. A couple of chips followed the cheese.

Liam stepped back to avoid being accidentally consumed by this human eating machine. He sat at the kitchen table and watched with amusement as Kate sampled bites of everything she touched. Like a kid given free rein in a candy store, she was tempted by each item, and she ate with blissful abandon.

But it only took a few minutes before she stopped. She placed her hand on her flat stomach and said, “I’m already full.”

Her eyes were so mournful that he chuckled.

“All this great food,” she said, “and I can’t fit more than a couple of bites inside me.”

“There’s plenty of time,” he said. “Take a break. You can eat more later.”

“True.” She brought a can of soda to the kitchen table, popped the tab and took a sip. “I love fizzy things. Soda. Seltzer. Champagne.”

“You’re a little fizzy yourself,” he said.

Her smile of pure satisfaction gratified him. He’d never seen a woman so pleased by so little. He wished they could have more time together. Just the two of them.

As she licked the salt off a potato chip, she circled the table to stand before him. “I’m glad you convinced me to leave the mountains.”

When she leaned toward him and patted his cheek, he inhaled the clean fragrance of soap and shampoo. The electric blue of her eyes sent a jolt through his body. He wanted to pull her closer, to taste her mouth, to discover if she kissed with the same appetite she showed for food.

“Thank you, Liam.” Her voice was soft and a little breathless. “You rescued me.”

“You were doing okay on your own.”

“But you came along at exactly the right moment.” Her smile was honest, warm and fresh as…Rain.

When she had been Rain, she’d belonged solely to him. He was the man who had discovered her, the only person who had seen her mountain cave. He wanted to keep her for himself. In Rain, he had met a woman who matched, even surpassed, his need for quiet and solitude. A woman who embraced the mountain life. A wild woman who was tough, gutsy and not afraid to be alone.

For now, Liam needed to deal with her other identity.

“All right, Kate.” He handed her the faxes. “I contacted CCC, and they sent some photos to help you remember.”

She sat at the table and looked at the photograph on top. “A wedding picture.”

Kate recognized herself in that gorgeous, lacy gown. Then she looked at the face of the groom. “Jonathan Proctor,” she murmured. “We’re divorced.”

“Sorry,” Liam said.

“Don’t be. It wasn’t a good marriage. We did a lot of fighting.”

Unpleasant memories flowed like a river across the parched surface of her mind. She and Jonathan had seldom seen eye to eye. He’d coped by shutting down and refusing to speak, except to criticize.

She had a very clear image of herself and Jonathan sitting at opposite ends of a long, ornate table. Neither of them said a word.

“The divorce,” she said, “was practically the only thing we agreed about. He still works at RMS. In fact, he’s the CEO.”

Liam gave her a disbelieving look. “Are you telling me that your ex-husband runs the Carradine family business?”

“He’s good at his job, and I hardly ever see him. Jonathan handles the business and development projects. My work is on the charitable side.”

As she focused on a photograph of herself and a Little League baseball team, a pleasant warmth rose inside her. She enjoyed working on fund-raising events, many of which were athletic in nature since Rocky Mountain Suppliers was, essentially, a sporting-goods company.

Pointing to a group photo, she picked out a face. “This is Rachel Robertson.”

“You mentioned her before,” Liam said.

“She runs a homeless shelter, and she’s helping me with plans to set up a mountain camp for disadvantaged kids. Some of the money from the RMS summer gala was going to finance it.”

“The summer gala?”

“It should be happening in a couple of weeks.” If the plans for the gala had been derailed by her absence, Kate would never forgive herself. Several charities depended on contributions raised by the formal dinner, dance and silent auction. “It’s a black-tie event.”

“Not my style,” he said.

“Maybe it should be. You’d look great in a tux.”

Actually, he’d look great in almost anything. As Liam gazed down at the faxed pages, she studied his profile. Dark stubble outlined his firm jaw. Beneath his rugged brow, his deep-set, hazel eyes glowed with health.

He pointed to a picture. “Are these the Williams sisters, from tennis?”

“Venus and Serena,” she said. “Right.”

“And you’re standing between them. You were in good shape.”

The photo showed her as a sunshine blonde in a white tennis dress. Her teeth were perfect. Her skin was perfect. She wondered if she’d ever be so carefree again.

With Liam, she sorted through other photos of celebrity golf tournaments and tennis matches. For nearly an hour, she stared at picture after picture, waiting for a memory revelation that simply wouldn’t come. “It’s no use,” she said. “I can’t remember why I needed to stay in hiding.”

“Maybe more food.”

“Always a good solution.”

They took a break and made hamburgers. Liam took his turn in the shower.

Then, it was back to the photos. Kate picked up another wedding photo. It was her mother with her husband of two years, Peter Rowe.

Liam said, “It might help you remember if you talk your way through these pictures.”

She nodded. “This is my mother, Elizabeth. She remarried two years ago. His name is Peter.”

“And?”

“He’s a handsome guy, kind of reminds me of Robert Wagner. He seems to make my mother happy, but I never really liked him. Probably, I resent him because nobody could ever take the place of my father. Especially not Peter.”

“Why not?”

“Dad was totally into the outdoors. Peter is all about designer shoes and monogrammed shirts. He’s happiest with a crystal champagne flute in his hand. He used to call me The Brat.”

“You don’t seem bratty to me,” Liam said.

“I have a temper,” she admitted. “A legendary bad temper.”

“Like when you took a shot at me?”

“I wasn’t angry then,” she informed him. “Shooting trespassers is practical.”

His grin was ironic but also charming. And she was comfortable enough to respond with a smile of her own. Comfortable. Peaceful.

She glided a fingertip across the smooth maple of the tabletop. She liked being here. His cabin was cozy and quiet. She’d forgotten how pleasant it was to be inside a warm house, sitting on a padded chair, drinking soda pop. Nice and normal.

She exhaled a sigh. “Before you came along, I had convinced myself that I’d never leave the forest. Now, here I am. In a cabin. With you.”

He reached across the table. His large hand rested atop hers. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Though she suspected that Liam was only being kind and reassuring, she couldn’t help wondering if a deeper relationship was possible. She wouldn’t mind if he pulled her close in an embrace. It wouldn’t hurt her feelings if he kissed her.

Oh, good grief! Was she falling for the man who had rescued her? Wasn’t that the biggest cliché in the world?

“I still can’t believe it,” she said. “Yesterday, the most important thing was to catch a fish.”

“Tomorrow will be harder,” he said. “You’ll have to face the media.”

“And my family.”

“You don’t sound happy about that.” His eyes were curious. “Does meeting your family worry you?”

“I feel terribly guilty. They’re going to be angry and…” Her voice faded as a prickle of fear teased the edge of her consciousness. Why would she be scared of her own family?

“Back to the memories,” she said, picking up a picture of herself with her stepbrother. “This is Tom. Peter’s son. He’s gotten interested in the family business, attends board meetings and usually is on my side.”

“Does the board have a lot of disagreements?”

“Of course we do. RMS has a lot of money.”

“Tell me about Tom. Is he athletic like you?”

“There’s only one sport he excels at. Tom is an expert marksman.”

Staring at the slightly blurred fax, she remembered a site trip with Tom. They had been looking at several mountain acres proposed for development. Her stepbrother had insisted on bringing his rifle, a Remington. In her mind, she saw him bracing the stock against his shoulder. Peering intently through his shaggy, dark brown bangs, he’d aimed and…

Gunfire rattled through the forest behind her. The shooters came nearer and nearer, but she couldn’t see them. An oppressive weight pressed down upon her. Her arms were heavy. She couldn’t carry on. Not one more step. Her legs ached. She sank to the earth, beaten. Sweat poured down her forehead. She couldn’t move but she had to go forward. Into the flames. Into the searing fire.

“Kate, what is it? What do you remember?”

“A forest fire.” Her memory faded. “It seemed like I was in the middle of it.”

“Go on,” Liam encouraged.

“I was carrying something.”

“Your backpack?” he suggested.

“Heavier.” She shook her head. “I can’t see it. This is more like a feeling.”

“What else?”

“The hunters,” she said. “I don’t know why they’re after me. Damn it, why? What did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything,” Liam said.

But her backpack held stacks of hundred-dollar bills and a pouch of jewelry. She remembered a man being shot. In her mind, she saw his blood. “What if I did? What if I’m a criminal?”

“I’d be surprised,” he said. “You don’t fit the typical profile for a perp.”

“A perp? How do you know about perps?”

“Remember, Kate, before I moved to Grand Lake, I worked for the Denver D.A.’s office.”

He’d been a prosecutor—not the best person to tell about possible criminal activities. Nervously, she asked, “What’s the perp profile?”

“Not you,” he said. “You’re from an upper-class background, haven’t been in trouble with the law before and you’re socially active.”

She took a potato chip from the bag on the table and studied it before nibbling at the edge. “None of those things are a guarantee that I wouldn’t do something I might regret.”

“Everybody is capable of lapses in judgment.” He tipped back in his chair. His arms folded across his chest. Those sexy hazel eyes steadily regarded her. “You’ve brought up the topic of criminal behavior a couple of times. Why?”

Because I might be a thief. Or a murderer. She looked away; it wasn’t easy to withhold information from him. “I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“Both,” she said. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

“I can’t answer that question until you tell me the whole truth.”

She wasn’t ready. Not yet. Not until she was certain that she hadn’t shot Wayne Silverman or stolen the loot that was now buried in her cave. “I’m not lying to you.”

“But you’re holding back.”

His scrutiny made her nervous. She got up from the table, walked a few paces, then turned toward the front windows. “I need to go outside. I’m feeling cooped up.”

“Holding back information will do that to you.”

Liam shoved back his chair and rose from the table. Her refusal to come clean was beginning to tick him off. What was she hiding? He wanted to help her, to believe her. But he didn’t have the patience to play evasive games.

On the front porch, he leaned against the railing and looked out on his land. Lazy clouds drifted across the afternoon skies. At the end of the day, the pace of life slowed to a crawl. Even in the mountains, where there were no time clocks, the squirrels took a recess from their constant foraging and the birds returned to their nests.

Liam glanced toward his Super Cub, gleaming white in the sunlight. Probably, he ought to move it inside the shed. But it didn’t look like rain. The Cub would be okay for the night.

Besides, they’d be taking off early tomorrow, heading back to Denver. Kate had to return to her family. He’d probably never see her again. In the life she’d been describing, there was no place for a man like him.

“It’s odd,” she said. “We’ve only known each other for twenty-four hours, but it feels like a lot longer.”

“A lifetime.” Long enough for him to be annoyed with her.

Her sharp chin lifted as she stared straight ahead, concentrating on an unknown future beyond the horizon. Her short hair ruffled in the breeze, and the corner of her mouth pulled into an adorable little frown.

His irritation faded. He’d known her long enough to forgive, to accept her shifts in attitude. Long enough to know that he liked this woman.

“Can I ask you a favor, Liam?”

He nodded.

“When we get to Denver,” she said, “promise me that you won’t leave me alone.”

“You don’t need me to hold your hand.”

“I’d feel safer if you stayed with me.”

He couldn’t deny her request. If she truly was in danger—a possibility that he was beginning to doubt—he would protect her. Grudgingly, he promised, “I’ll stay at your side. For a while.”

But not for long. His place was here, in the mountains. Once they got to town, she’d slide back into her upper-class life. Kate Carradine would be fine. Just fine.

Suddenly, her back stiffened. Her thin neck craned. “Someone’s coming.”

He glanced toward the road. “I don’t think so.”

“Listen. They’re getting closer.”

“Kate, you’re mistaken.”

She grasped his arm and tugged at his sleeve. “Can’t you hear the birds? We need to get out of here. We’ve got to run.”