Officer Nelson, from the State Police. He also carried a cell phone — on vibrate. Police radios were too loud.
“Where is . . . she?” Kaycee didn’t want to say too much. What if they’d rigged her house and were listening right now?
If Mark caught her paranoia, he didn’t let on. “Upstairs in her bedroom. The chief asked her to stay up there.”
Anger flashed through Kaycee. Maybe by now the old woman finally believed Hannah was in trouble. “She’s actually doing what she’s told?”
“Ah, she’s not so bad. Just set in her ways. I got a great aunt like that.”
“Aunt Battery Acid?”
He chuckled.
“I was in her living room once,” Kaycee said. “She’s got so many colors in there it probably glows in the dark.”
“Close to it.”
Silence. She could hear him breathing.
“How you doing, Kaycee?”
“Fabulous. I’m thinking about taking up espionage for a living.”
“No room for fear in that.”
“Hey, after tonight, I could do anything.”
“Stand in a hive of bumblebees?”
“Walk across High Bridge?”
A railroad bridge not too far outside Wilmore, stretching across the Kentucky River Palisades — once the highest of its kind in the world. People told horror stories of getting caught up there when a train went by — mere feet from the railing. The thought of that bridge’s dizzying height, train or no train, sent Kaycee’s stomach dropping. “Going up there hasn’t been allowed for years, Mr. Policeman.”
“It’s the willingness that counts.”
“I thought you were supposed to be watching out for me, not trying to make me panic.”
“You don’t sound panicked.”
“Easy for you to say.”
They fell silent again.
“Everybody’s got fears, you know,” Mark said. “You’re just more honest about yours. Most people don’t have the courage to be that honest.”
Kaycee blinked. It was one of the nicest things anyone could say to her. She’d never thought of her honesty as courage. She’d never thought of a single bone in her body as courageous.
“Thank you for saying that.”
“You’re welcome.”
Kaycee stared at the kitchen table where the camera had sat. “Why’d the chief want you to bring . . . that certain thing with you?”
“Uh, my laptop?”
“Yeah.”
“You know those cameras around town? We can review any film from our own computers.”
Kaycee processed the information. “Oh.”
Another pause. Kaycee floundered for something to say. She didn’t want to hang up. Never had she realized how good Mark’s voice sounded.
“Kaycee, when this is all over, I’m taking you out. To celebrate.”
She blinked in surprise as her heart did a little dance. Had he even had one date since his fiancee left him three years ago? Rumor had it the answer was no. “Let’s hope we have something to celebrate.”
“We will.”
“Where will we go?”
“Kings Island. I’m taking you on the biggest rollercoaster they’ve got.”
Kaycee’s eyes closed. “You rat.”
“Okay, maybe I’ll think of something else.”
Mark cleared his throat. “I should go. You got me on speed dial, right?”
“Yeah, but only if I need you. I’ve got Tricia standing by. She’s promised to talk on the phone all night if I want.”
“That’s what a friend’s for.”
Long after they hung up, Kaycee’s thoughts hovered on the conversation. “
If she survived the night.
Time ticked on. The tingle of the conversation faded, and Kaycee was left alone with her fear. Every minute seemed a lifetime.
Where was Hannah on this dark night? Was she even alive?
Kaycee had called Tricia and tried to talk but couldn’t find much to say. The last thing she wanted to discuss was her terror, and spilling the beans on her date with Mark just might jinx it. Who knew, maybe it would never happen.
Now hours later Kaycee hunched on her couch, limbs atremble, and watched the crime drama, barely registering.
A loud creak sounded in the office.
Kaycee whipped her head around. She froze, muscles tight, eyes probing the visible part of the room. Her desk and computer, the arm chair, the door to the hallway off her kitchen. Some detective on the TV was droning on about mitochondrial DNA. She punched the mute button on the remote, then listened. She heard nothing but the whoosh-whoosh of her own pulse in her ears.
It was nothing. Her old house always creaked.
Kaycee’s fingers curled around her cell phone. She slipped off the couch and straightened, head cocked. Slowly she approached the arched office doorway, neck craned to gaze around it to the left.
Empty.
She walked to her desk and stared at the black screen of her monitor. Biting her cheek, she surveyed what she could see of the hall. They couldn’t possibly be in here. For all her paranoia, she knew that. Two officers had all four sides and every entrance to her house covered.
She sidled into the hallway. Peeked in the laundry room and bathroom. Then forced herself into the kitchen. The dining area. Living room. Back to the den.
Kaycee sat back down on the couch. On the TV a dark-haired actress in a white lab coat was silently positioning a thread on a microscope slide. Kaycee put her phone down on the table and picked up the remote.
Her skin prickled from the heat of unseen eyes.
“No one is here,” she said aloud.
She checked her watch. Not even twelve-thirty. This night would last an eternity.
Her nerves writhed.
The silence would swallow her. Kaycee pressed the mute button again, and TV voices kicked to life. Feverishly, she channel-surfed, looking for something light to occupy her mind. She blipped through the History Channel, a cell phone commercial, cable news, a car ad, an
And a full-screen shot of the dead man in vivid color, his eyes half open, lying on the dark yellow floor.
