Darell hung up the phone—and exhaled. His hands trembled.
“What happened?” Margaret blurted.
Darell started. Turning stiffly he threw Margaret a look. “I left a message, all right? That’s all I can do at the moment. Now stop gnashing your teeth and fix my breakfast.”
He hoped he could eat.
Margaret’s hand rose to her chest, all argument beaten out of her. Besides, it was too late. Events had been put in motion.
“I … Okay.” She gave Kaitlan’s shoulder a harried pat as she drifted away.
Kaitlan sidled over the threshold, her arms still clutched and brows knitted. She leaned against the wall, eyes begging Darell to tell her all would be well.
He firmed his expression into that of a poker player sure to win. “Trap set.” One side of his mouth tugged upward. “Now for the prey to come along.”
forty-seven
Craig smacked his cell phone shut and hurled it into the passenger seat.
Linda at the station’s front desk had been so excited about Darell Brooke’s call. One day ago, he would have been too.
This “research” meeting was a sure setup.
What in the world did the old man think he could do?
Blood simmering, Craig stared out the windshield of his patrol car at Kaitlan’s garage apartment. Morning sun filtered through the trees, spotting the front stoop, the gray-painted wood. Birds chirped in the forest, and a squirrel scampered by, cheeks bulging. The sun went down, the sun came up, forest creatures slept and woke. How perfectly the world continued to turn.
Nature taunted him. His containment had failed.
Sudden rage drove his flattened palm against the steering wheel. Again and again he hit, cursing with each blow, pulse pounding in his head and heels dug into the floor. His life was unraveling. Fate threatened to swallow him whole, and he
Spent, he threw himself back against the seat, chest puffing.
His police radio crackled. Dispatch was calling an officer out on a domestic disturbance. The exchange brought Craig back to focus. He closed his eyes. He had to pull himself together.
Clamping down his breathing, he listened to the skid of his heart.
It was bad enough that Kaitlan had escaped last night. Even worse when he’d returned to find she’d sneaked back and snatched her purse and toiletries. He should have known then she wouldn’t show at work this morning. But he’d clung to hope.
Now this.
Craig pressed his knuckles against his forehead. Now the containment would be harder. Messier. He could get caught.
No. He would never be caught.
Their bodies must not be found.
Craig hadn’t thought Kaitlan would go to her grandfather. Clearly, they were estranged. He’d talked about Darell Brooke numerous times, trying to draw her out, but she’d never admitted their relation. And Craig hadn’t wanted to admit how thoroughly he’d checked up on her when they first started dating. Computers could do a lot these days. He’d been amazed to discover her connection to Darell Brooke. But Kaitlan had stuck to her story—she had no family. Her only living relatives, including her mother, had thrown her out of their lives.
Recently, when Craig’s father had run Kaitlan Sering through the system, he hadn’t dug past her mother’s name change to discover Kaitlan’s connection to Brooke. Craig had kept the knowledge to himself, afraid that his father or Hallie would let it slip to Kaitlan.
How glad he was of that.
More chatter from dispatch. Craig’s unit was being summoned for back-up to the domestic disturbance call. He radioed that he was on his way. How normal his voice sounded.
Officer Craig Barlow performed a perfect two-point turn in Kaitlan’s driveway and took off. As he rounded the curve, the idea dawned. What he must do this afternoon—for containment.
A humorless smile bent his mouth.
How ironic.
forty-eight
Eleven o’clock. Kaitlan hunched at the breakfast table, nibbling saltine crackers and drinking mint tea— Margaret’s suggestion for her icky stomach. Her eyes felt gritty and her chest made of stone. Not to mention every muscle in her body hurt. She must have hit that car last night at sixty miles an hour. And her side where Craig had kicked her throbbed.
She hoped the baby was all right.
Margaret was furiously sponging down the already spotless refrigerator.
The crackers sat like sawdust in Kaitlan’s mouth. All the same her nausea was beginning to settle.
Before she collapsed into bed at 2:30 a.m., Kaitlan had left a message at the salon. She was sick and throwing up. She wouldn’t be in the following morning—please reschedule her appointments.
It wasn’t far from the truth.
She picked up another cracker.
Craig hadn’t called yet. Dread lolled in the pit of Kaitlan’s stomach.
They’d counted on him to return the call quickly. As soon as the meeting was confirmed they had to call the computer technician, the private investigator, and the reporter. Those people had to travel here and meet with them over details. The tech had to run his diagnostics and leave. The entire setup could take hours.
Why hadn’t Craig phoned?
Maybe he was out on a call right now. As soon as he was done and could check his cell for the message …
He had to be incensed at her disappearance. He’d probably checked her apartment a half dozen times —
The phone rang. Kaitlan jumped.
Margaret’s back stiffened, her sponge poised in the air. “D. has to answer.”
Kaitlan’s eyes riveted to the receiver, her skin tingling. The mere thought that Craig could be on the other end of the line made her want to run and hide.
No second ring.
Her head snapped around. “I have to hear what’s happening.”
“Don’t let your grandfather see you!”
Kaitlan was already scurrying out of the kitchen.
On cat feet she crept down the hall toward the office. The door stood open, her grandfather’s voice drifting from the room. At the edge of the threshold she flattened herself against the wall, pulse fluttering. She closed her eyes and steeled herself. If she was this bad now, what would it be like with Craig in the house?
“Yes,” her grandfather said. “It shouldn’t take too long. But I’d like to sit down with you and lay out my scenario.”
A pause.
“Yes, I know he’s the chief of police. But you’re the one I want. To tell the truth, I’m killing two birds with one stone. Some time ago a friend of yours on the force emailed me saying what a fan you are of my books. He asked on your behalf if you’d be able to meet me. My memory is vague but I think it was around the time of your birthday, and your friend was holding out wild hope to set it up as your present. I know I’m a little late, and granted now I need
“I’m sorry, I can’t remember his name.”
Kaitlan held her breath.
