Dark Pursuit

street. It’s longer to the freeway, but Craig could be circling back.”

“Circling back?”

“He was here. About two minutes before you came. I hid in the woods. He drove right by me with a spotlight.”

“Are you kidding? And you had me bring you back here?”

Kaitlan felt the car turn onto the road. “See any other headlights?”

“No.”

Cautiously she raised her head. “Go left at the next road, then the second left after that. After about a mile you’ll see a sign to the freeway.”

Kaitlan whipped around toward the rear window. Only blackness.

Come on, come on.

She collapsed against the seat, utterly spent.

The car turned … turned again.

Kaitlan lifted her chin. “See the freeway sign?

Margaret hesitated. “There it is.”

In another minute they hit 280. They’d done it.

Kaitlan sank her cheek against the seat and closed her eyes. For the first time since barreling into that woman’s car she realized how much her body hurt.

forty

Nothing but panic and fury were left in Craig’s veins. They ate at him like acid, bubbling and gurgling all reason away.

If he’d just done what was needed. If he hadn’t been so stupid.

But no, this was not his fault. She hadn’t listened.

Craig cruised the dark rural streets, recklessly panning the woods with his spotlight. He didn’t even care who saw, who might ask questions. He just needed Kaitlan silenced.

Long, long, he looked. Way past when he knew it was hopeless. Where had she gone?

Defeat hurled fire in his belly.

Fingers curled into the steering wheel, lungs like stone, he smacked off the searchlight and threw it on the passenger seat. He screeched around in the middle of the road and aimed toward Kaitlan’s apartment for one more search—even though he knew she wasn’t there.

On the way he gulped oxygen, forcing his head to clear.

Minutes later he swerved into Kaitlan’s driveway.

All right. Okay. All wasn’t lost yet.

Craig Barlow was a policeman. He could contain this. He would contain it. He just had to think what to do. Reason through things.

He pulled up behind Kaitlan’s car.

Tomorrow was another day. For now he’d scared her sufficiently. Just because she’d fled didn’t mean she’d told someone. What was there to tell? There was no evidence of a murder. None. That woman would be reported missing. But without a body …

And nearly twenty people had seen him and Kaitlan at a party tonight, acting just fine.

Slowly he tapped the steering wheel.

He could only hope she’d be scared enough to show up at work tomorrow, like he’d warned her to do. The longer she acted like nothing was wrong, the harder time she’d have trying to prove anything had happened.

Besides, if she tried that, his irate father would shut her down in a hurry.

If she’d already told someone, and that person believed her … Craig closed his eyes. He had to keep his father out of this.

Containment. At any cost.

Jaw set with determination, Craig got out of the car to search Kaitlan’s apartment one more time.

forty-one

“Where’s Kaitlan, what took you so long?” Darell pounded his cane against the kitchen floor, his cheeks heating with anger born of relief.

“She’s right behind me, just getting her things.” Margaret looked flustered and shaky. She dropped her purse on the counter, hands fluttering about. “I got lost. Couldn’t see the street signs in the dark—the lamp posts are so far apart out there. I thought I’d have a heart attack. And then—there she was. On the street.”

“On the—”

“Grandfather!” Kaitlan drew out the greeting, as if she’d thought never to see him again. She dragged in from the hallway, threw some plastic bags and a purse beside Margaret’s, and came at him, arms out. Before he could say a word, she wrapped him in a hug.

Kaitlan hung on. He could feel the shiver of her body. Or maybe it was his own. How many years had it been since a family member had hugged him like that?

Darell’s left hand lifted and found its way around her back. He patted her gently.

She drew away, hands sliding to his shoulders. Her eyes glistened.

Her face.

Darell’s jaw sagged open. He touched her left cheek. It was purple red with multiple small abrasions. Streaks of dirt ran down to her chin. Pieces of leaf and twig were stuck in her hair. “This where he hit you?” His voice was gruff. Rage popped around in his chest like oil in a wet pan.

Kaitlan winced. “Does it look bad?”

“Oh, my.” Margaret looked sick. “I hadn’t noticed in the dark.” She plucked a broken leaf from Kaitlan’s scalp.

Kaitlan backed up, rubbing her arms. Exhaustion pulled at her mouth. “I fell. And I had to hide in the forest so …”

Darell stared at her, searching for words. What on earth had happened? His rage spattered higher, its heat turned up. He would trap Craig Barlow if it was the last thing he did. If he had to die in the process.

He inhaled deeply. “Let’s sit down in the library so I can hear what happened. And I will lay out our plan.”

Margaret’s eyes rounded as though she was shocked he could come up with anything. He threw her a look.

Kaitlan’s gaze cruised the cabinets as if she’d only half heard his words. “I need some water.”

“I’ll get it.” Margaret fetched a glass and started to fill it from the refrigerator.

“No, just tap.” Kaitlan ran a distracted hand through her hair, picking at the debris.

“Okay.” Margaret stepped to the sink.

Kaitlan murmured “thank you” and guzzled the water. She set down the glass and swayed against the counter. Margaret reached out a hand to steady her.

“I’m okay.” Kaitlan waved her away. “I’m just …”

“Exhausted.” Margaret huffed. “And I’ll bet you’ve hardly eaten.”

Kaitlan shook her head. “I couldn’t. That dinner with Chief Barlow threatening me—no way. Not knowing what Craig was going to do when we left. And the smell of the food …” She scrunched her nose. “I’ve felt sick all day.”

Her eyelids flickered, as if she’d let something slip. She firmed her mouth.

A warning bell sounded in Darell’s head. Was there something she wasn’t telling him? An illness? “Why, what’s wrong with you?”

Kaitlan’s tired eyes fixed on his. She swallowed, defensiveness falling across her face in pale shadow. The moment stretched, as if she considered what to say.

A sigh escaped her. Both shoulders sank. “I’m pregnant.” She closed her eyes. “There. I’ve said it.”

“Oh.” Margaret’s fingers lifted to her lips.