“I’m so sorry. There’s so much I wanted to say. Good-bye, Caitlin. I love you.”
“Scott?”
Pity. They had so much to look forward to.
Then...nothing.
CHAPTER 3
“Scott?”
Caitlin could hear rushing wind, an engine racing, then there came the briefest sound of rending metal, and the line died. “Scott? Oh, God. Scott?”
Caitlin lowered the telephone and stared at it. The display indicated she had lost the signal.
What happened? It sounded like he had an accident, but why had it become so quiet before the crash? The calm lasted for several seconds. Long enough for Scott to say good-bye. My God. He said good-bye. But he wasn’t hanging up the telephone. Oh, my God. He was assuming he’d never see her again. Why else would he say he loved her when their divorce would be final in another week? Why else would he say good-bye?
“Oh God. Oh God.”
Caitlin felt her pulse racing. Her throat tightened until she couldn’t talk. She had to calm down, relax, and get a grip on her emotions.
What to do? She should call someone. The highway patrol. Yes, that’s it. Scott might still be alive. If they found him in time. Where was he? Leaving Los Alamos?
Caitlin called information. A computer-generated voice answered. “Your request, please.”
“Los Alamos, New Mexico, emergency number.”
“One moment, please.”
The number came almost immediately and Caitlin auto-dialed it.
The telephone rang twice before a woman’s voice answered. “Los Alamos dispatch.”
Caitlin tried to control her voice, but it still broke as she said, “This is Caitlin Maxwell in San Francisco. I believe my husband has just had an accident between Los Alamos and Santa Fe.”
The woman asked for particulars. What distance was he from Los Alamos? What kind of car he was driving? Did she know the license number?
Caitlin answered each question in turn, and finally, the woman told her that a patrol car would search the route and look for any sign of an accident. Caitlin gave the woman her telephone number and broke the connection.
Closing the phone, she dropped it into her purse.
“Caitlin? Are you all right?”
She looked up to see Dean standing next to her. He held two glasses of champagne. Some kind of film covered her eyes, blurring her vision, but she could see his concern. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hands and nodded once.
He set the glasses down on the railing and put an arm around her shoulders.
Caitlin pushed gently away from him. Her gut tightened. She felt sick. Control, she had to get control.
Facing the ocean, Caitlin deeply inhaled the thick air. She took a handkerchief from her purse and wiped her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Dean. I’ve got to go.”
“Wait a minute. What did Scott say to you?”
She shook her head and returned the handkerchief to her purse. “It wasn’t what he said. He ... I think Scott is dead.”
Dean leaned back and stared at her face. His features reflected his incredulity.
“Scott is dead,” Caitlin repeated.
“I ... I don’t understand. You were just talking to him.”
“I know. He was driving, in the mountains; he had some kind of accident.”
“Dear Lord, I’m sorry Caitlin. But how can you be sure he’s dead?”
She fought back the rush that hit her as she thought of Scott and the long span of time with just the sound of wind and the racing engine in the telephone. “A car accident. Icy road. He must have skidded off the road. Something like that.”
But, that wasn’t all of it. He’d said something about a truck, and she heard screeching metal before he’d left the road. What had happened?
“But still you can’t be sure. Do you know where he called from?”
Caitlin nodded.
“Then call the highway patrol. They ought to be able to locate him.”
“I did already, but it won’t do any good. I know he’s dead. I can feel it. He even said goodbye before the crash.”
Dean shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, Caitlin.”
His eyes darkened as he looked away from her toward the setting sun and she realized he wanted to say something else. “What is it?”
“You’re going to think me cold, but I have to ask.”
“What?”
“Is this going to affect your company’s ability to fulfill our contract?”
For a moment, Caitlin just stared at him. How could he? What kind of an asshole would even think– “Our contract? No. We live up to our agreements, no matter what.”
He nodded. A moment later, he frowned. “Look, I’m sorry, but business is business. I had to know.”
“I understand.”
“Can I walk you to your room?” He asked as though trying to recover his good manners.
“No. Thank you. Really, I need to be alone. I’ll contact you later.”
Caitlin slid her purse strap back on her shoulder. Her posture stiff, she stood and walked toward the door. The wind had lost its bite. Her heart held a cold stronger than the ocean air. She opened the door and marched across the crowded bar, hardly conscious of the crush of people watching the sunset. Then, in a rush, the anger left her to be replaced by a deep sadness.
She reached the elevator and summoned it.
Scott was dead. She knew it as well as she knew her own name. My God, to be talking with someone and the next second they’re dead.
She felt like her life had just taken a left turn into the twilight zone.
The elevator doors parted with a chime.
“Floor thirty-one,” Caitlin said
