Dark Pursuit

Darell felt the blood drain from his head. Everything he’d planned in the last hour rose before him in a new, tainted picture. “You telling me Craig’s the father?”

Kaitlan focused on the floor. Her chin rose and fell in a tiny nod.

No.

Darell’s fingers tightened on his cane. His head pulled back, eyes narrowed. “How far along are you?” Disdain coated his voice.

Kaitlan bit her lip. “About six weeks.”

“Good. You’ve got plenty of time to get rid of it.”

Kaitlan’s eyes rose to his face in shock. “I don’t want to get rid of it.”

“Of course you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Kaitlan.” His tone snapped and he didn’t care. “What are you thinking? We want the world and especially you rid of this man. How do you expect that to happen if he’s the father of your baby? Forever, Kaitlan, you’ll be tied to him, whether you want to be or not. You want to raise a child who came from that? Whose daddy is a convicted killer on death row?”

Kaitlan’s face flushed. She thrust two steps forward, an arm flinging out. “I don’t care who her father is! What I care is that I’m the mother.” She jabbed at her own chest. “I care about loving this baby the way my mother never loved me. I want to raise her and be there for her.”

“With what means? You haven’t got a penny to your name.”

“I’ll find a way! What’s it to you? You want me to kill my baby just because I’m not rich like you?” Tears sprang to her eyes. “I want a family, don’t you get that? It’s more important to me than anything.”

“But Craig is the father.”

A tear spilled down her cheek. “When he’s in jail he won’t have any part of my baby. I’ll go to court if I have to. Or maybe I won’t even tell him it’s his. I’ll say I was with someone else. She won’t tie me to him. My daughter will be mine.”

“You don’t know it’s a daughter,” Darell retorted inanely.

“Son then. Either way, I’m not having an abortion.”

Darell backed up and leaned against a counter. This was too much. He should sit down.

Margaret cleared her throat. “Could I just—”

“No,” Darell spat.

“Stop it!” Kaitlan’s tone shrilled. “Why are you so mean to her? Just because you never cared about family.”

The words bit deep. “Fine, then.” Darell hit the hardwood floor with his cane. “You two talk all you want. Apparently you don’t need me, and I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

“What, you can’t go to bed!” Margaret caught his arm. “You said you have a plan. This news doesn’t change anything for tonight; we can deal with it later. Right now we’ve got enough to think about.”

Darell yanked his arm away. “She said she doesn’t need me.”

“She never said that.”

Kaitlan bent over, hands hiding her face. Just folded like a rag doll. A sob pressed through her fingers.

Margaret shot Darell an accusing look. “See what you’ve done?”

The crying squeezed Darell’s heart. He gawked at Kaitlan. “I didn’t do anything. She brought it up.”

“D.” Margaret’s green eyes moistened. “Kaitlan could have died tonight. Craig came back before I got there, and she had to hide in the woods. She got hit by a car—”

“What! Hit by a—”

“On top of everything she’s pregnant and sick. Now you want to tell her what to do with her own baby?”

Kaitlan’s breathing shuddered then quieted. She lifted her head to gaze at him dully.

Darell buffed his forehead. “You got hit by a car?”

She tilted her head. “Actually, I hit it.”

His face scrunched.

Kaitlan waved a hand—doesn’t matter. Her gaze slid into the distance. Exhaustion and defeat trailed across her brow.

Margaret raised her eyebrows at Darell.

He scratched his ear, nonplussed. “Come into the library.” He turned to thump out of the kitchen with all the dignity he could muster. “Heaven knows I’ve waited for you long enough.”

Sudden music sounded. Darell halted. “What’s that?”

Kaitlan’s stunned gaze pulled toward the counter. Dreamlike, she crossed to her purse and opened it. The music turned louder.

“It’s my cell. He gave me back my cell.” Her hand slipped into a side pocket in the purse and withdrew a phone. “This is Craig’s ring tone.”

“Don’t answer,” Darell commanded.

They stared at the phone as if Craig himself might crawl from it.

After a moment the music stopped.

Kaitlan set the phone on the counter. “No message.”

“Evidence. He wouldn’t be so foolish.” Darell gestured with his chin. “Turn it off.” The location of a live cell phone could be traced.

She held down a button. Notes sounded, then the phone went silent.

“If he did that …” Kaitlan checked in her purse again. “Hah!” She pulled out a car key. “Look. He gave this back too. Why would he do that?”

Darell’s mind chugged. He frowned at the key.

Margaret shifted. “Maybe—”

“Quiet!” He massaged his jaw, frowning at the floor.

The answer surfaced.

Darell’s head came up. “He was afraid you’d gotten to someone for help and would tell what’s happened. The only thing he could do was make you look crazy. With no sign of the body you claimed to find, and your keys and phone in your purse where they should be …” Darell lifted his hand and shrugged.

Kaitlan’s eyes rounded as if she couldn’t believe Craig’s cunning. “What about the bruise on my face?”

“He’d claim to know nothing about how you got it.” Darell’s gaze roamed over her cheek. The scrapes were redder now. “Your fall hasn’t helped matters any. Now it would be hard to prove the bruise didn’t come from that.”

“Oh. Of course.” Kaitlan’s expression flattened. Shoulders slumped, she put the key back in her purse, then pressed her palms to her temples. She looked like an orphan, hollow-cheeked and lost.

Her gaze drifted to the cell phone. She scooped it up with a sigh and dropped it into her purse. Turning away, she did a double take. She leaned over the handbag. “What … ?”

Reaching deep inside, she pulled out two white rectangles. Kaitlan turned them over. Her skin blanched white. She cried out and shook the objects from her hands as if she’d been stung. They landed on the floor face up.

Photos.

Darell squinted. What were they of?

Margaret’s wide eyes locked on the pictures. She cut a glance at Kaitlan, then edged over to pick them up. As she bent down, her face registered horror. Air seeped up her throat. She hesitated.

“Give them to me!” Darell thrust out his arm.

Gingerly she picked up the photos by one corner and shoved them into his hand. He peered at them.

The victim’s body.

One was taken from the right, one from the left. Vivid color shots of her ghastly frozen features, the black and green fabric around her neck. Clear in the photos were the surroundings. A bed, a cheap wooden headboard, walls and furniture.

Kaitlan’s bedroom, no doubt.