She had come to terms with not being married to Scott, but a world without Scott was another matter entirely. Alone in the elevator and without the eyes of strangers on her she no longer held back her grief. She sobbed into her handkerchief until the door opened at her floor. Then she wiped at her cheeks, removing some of the external marks of Scott’s death, but she couldn’t begin to touch the ache in her heart.
Half blinded in agony, Caitlin eased along the wide, cheerfully lit, corridor. From the outer pocket of her computer case, she removed a rod-shaped, electronic key. At 3142, she put the tip of the key into the receptacle. The door swung open, and Caitlin stepped across the threshold while dropping the key back into her case.
“Lights.”
The LED lights lit the suite with a warm glow.
She crossed the small sitting room and entered the bedroom.
Two steps into the room Caitlin stopped in surprise. Empty dresser drawers hung open, and her clothes were neatly stacked on top of the dresser. The suitcase she’d left in the corner of the closet lay splayed wide on the bed.
For a moment, she couldn’t understand what had happened, and then a fresh chill flooded through her. Somebody had gone through her personal belongings.
She took another step into the room and froze. What if they were still here? Her left hand dipped back into her case, searching for the room key.
The lights dimmed to almost pitch black.
Someone grabbed her shoulder and tried to turn her around.
Caitlin spun away from the grip and stumbled against the bed. She swayed, trying to catch her balance, but fell backward onto the bedspread.
The silhouette of a large man filled the doorway.
“Who the hell are you?” Caitlin asked.
He didn’t answer.
Her voice rose. “What do you want?”
He came toward her.
Caitlin rolled to put the bed between them, but a hand closed around her ankle. She clutched uselessly at the covers while he pulled her toward him. Realizing she had little time to react, she twisted onto her back and cocked her free foot back. Before he could react, she kicked out, catching him in the forehead.
He grunted and staggered, but held tight to her ankle and tried to grab her other leg.
Caitlin kicked at his face again and heard a loud crunch. His grip weakened, and she jerked hastily away. She rolled off the far side of the bed and scrambled to her feet.
“Stay away from me, damn you!”
Still silent, he came around the corner of the bed.
Her case had slipped off her shoulder, but she had held onto its strap. When he came at her again, she stepped back and swung the case upward. It passed between his outstretched hands and slammed into his chin.
He staggered back, tripped, and fell into the closet.
Without waiting to see if he would recover, Caitlin dashed past him into the other room. She saw the telephone on the wet bar, but she could already hear movement in the bedroom. No, her cell phone would be safer, but first, she had to get out of there. Rushing toward the door, Caitlin pulled her room key from her case and fumbled for the distress button. She put her thumb on the end and pressed. It refused to budge.
She yanked open the door, lurched into an empty hallway, and turned toward the elevators. She considered screaming for help and pounding on doors, but until she put distance between her and her attacker, she didn’t dare stop.
Reaching the elevators, she bent over, gasping for air and stabbing at the down button. She turned her head to look back up the hall and saw her attacker coming out of her room. He held something long and slender.
A gun. He had a gun.
A fresh surge of adrenaline coursed through her. She spun away from the elevator and slammed into the stairwell door across the hall.
Leaping down the stairs two at a time, she made two landings before stumbling, swearing frantically as the heel of her right shoe broke. She grabbed the handrail to keep from falling. Her hands slid against the metal. She stumbled, and thought she would fall, but then got her feet under her again.
The shoe was useless; both shoes were useless for running. Kicking off first one shoe and then the other, Caitlin continued her hurried descent in stocking feet.
Footsteps pounded above her.
She descended another floor. The pounding of his steps was closer. Her feet already hurt from running on the hard concrete stairs. If she couldn’t outrun him, she had to outthink him.
She glanced upwards as she used the railing to pull her around the next turn.
Good God! He was aiming at her.
She heard a soft coughing sound and a bullet whined off the metal handrail.
Caitlin reflexively ducked. She stumbled to her knees, smashing them painfully into the stairwell before she caught herself and lurched back to her feet.
At the next landing, she pulled open the door and slammed it back against the wall. Before it closed, she moved down the stairs again. This time she hugged the wall, moved silently, and didn’t breathe as she prayed her trick would work.
One floor below, she heard the door she’d opened, open again. Had she fooled him?
Caitlin kept moving, afraid to stop. She descended another floor before hearing a door open. Heavy male footsteps pounded the stairs.
It hadn’t worked.
Caitlin opened the next door. Squeezing through it, she carefully, silently, pulled it shut behind her. She came out in a long hallway as empty her own had been. She ran to the elevator doors and pressed the down button. Panting, she listened, for an indication that the elevator was coming. Nothing. She
