“It was the only thing in my pocket. I must have lost my cell phone when I fell.”
If this was Kaitlyn’s cell phone, then it proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that she’d been at the lodge. She’d stood at that very window and perhaps witnessed something inside that had sent her fleeing blindly through the woods. Whether her fall had been accidental or the result of foul play was yet another question.
Clark said his name over the radio, and Aidan automatically turned his head to his shoulder to respond. “Go ahead.”
“You’d better come see this.”
“I’m on my way.”
Pocketing the cell phone, Aidan straightened and hurried around to the back of the lodge. When he didn’t see Clark, he called out his name.
“Over here!” the other man shouted.
Aidan followed his voice into the woods. About twenty yards in, he spotted Clark standing with his back to him, staring at the ground. When Clark heard him approach, he stepped back so that Aidan could see what he’d found.
The body had been buried in a shallow grave, but the heavy rains had left the head and upper torso partially exposed. He was a Caucasian male, but that was about the only thing Aidan could tell about him. Scavengers had already been at his face.
It was strange how suddenly quiet everything seemed. No birds in the trees. No rustle of leaves. There was nothing in the wind but the smell of death.
“This is the county boys’ jurisdiction,” Clark said after a moment. “We’d better notify the sheriff.”
Aidan didn’t respond. His mind was still on that cell phone in his pocket and the possibility that Kaitlyn had witnessed a murder. That she might even have somehow been a party to it.
He didn’t really believe that, though. What he did believe was that she was in a world of trouble. If the killer hadn’t known about her before, he would soon enough.
Once the investigation got under way, questions would be asked, leads would be followed, and Kaitlyn might as well paint a big bull’s-eye on her forehead once the cops came knocking on her door.
Chapter Eight
Saturday, 0900 hours
Kaitlyn didn’t rest at all well her first night at home. She’d so looked forward to being in her own apartment and sleeping in her own bed that she hadn’t stopped to think how the silence of her own company might wear on her.
Even at night the hospital had been so full of sounds that—until her hallucination—Kaitlyn had pretty much been able to tune everything out. But at home, the individual sounds were what kept her awake—the rattle of pipes, the creaking of old floorboards, even the subtle hum of her refrigerator. Every time she closed her eyes, some new noise would startle her awake.
She must have gotten up a dozen times to check her doors and windows, and once, when she’d glanced out at the street, she could have sworn she felt someone watching her from the dark.
She’d never been the nervous type, so she wondered if her new paranoia was another manifestation of post-traumatic stress. How else to explain this awful feeling that she was somehow in danger?
For goodness’ sakes, who would want to hurt her? Other than Allen Cudlow, she had no enemies. None that she was aware of at least. And as for Allen, Kaitlyn had never been afraid of him, even when he was at his nastiest. He was sneaky and underhanded and even ruthless at times, but somehow she just couldn’t picture him creeping through the darkness in his Dockers to do her in.
Could the paranoia be a side effect of the pain medication she’d been given at the hospital? Kaitlyn wondered. After she’d stopped taking it, she hadn’t experienced any more hallucinations, but the residue in her system might be enough to cause a vague sense of unease.
There had to be some logical explanation for the personality change, because this sudden fearfulness, this awful sense of urgency made about as much sense as Boone Fowler coming into her hospital room in the middle of the night to smother her with a pillow.
Kaitlyn hated feeling so vulnerable. She’d never been afraid of being alone. In fact, she’d been living on her own for years now, and she’d always reveled in her independence. She knew her neighbors, but she wasn’t overly cozy with any of them and that was the way she preferred it. Her garage apartment afforded her all the privacy she could want. She rarely even saw her landlady, Mrs. Morgan, except at the first of the month when she paid her rent.
Mrs. Morgan’s house was at the end of a quiet street with only one neighbor to the right of her. Denny Vandermeer was a single man who liked to party, and his late-night antics could sometimes be a nuisance when Kaitlyn had to get up early for work the next day.
But on her first night home from the hospital, the laughter and music drifting up from his backyard became something of a comfort to Kaitlyn. Made her feel less alone. With so many people coming and going at all hours, she was perfectly safe, she kept reminding herself. And finally, just after dawn, she managed to drift off to sleep.
Sunlight streaming in through her bedroom window woke her up just after nine, and in spite of her exhaustion and the fact that it was a Saturday morning, Kaitlyn dragged herself out of bed, showered and dressed for work. The newspaper business knew no weekends, but Ken had encouraged her to take a few days off to fully recuperate. However, Kaitlyn had learned a long time ago that it was never a good idea to test her indispensability.
Both the prison break and Nikolai Petrov stories had the potential for huge national exposure, and if Kaitlyn could get her byline picked up by one of the wire ser vices, it would be a tremendous leap forward in her career.
But it wouldn’t be easy. Reporters from all the major news outlets were pouring into the area. Kaitlyn’s only hope was to find a new angle, something no one else could bring to either story.
That was why an interview with Petrov was so important. As much as the prince seemed to enjoy the limelight, he rarely sat down with reporters. A one-on-one would catapult Kaitlyn to the big leagues. Aidan had been right about that. If she could get Petrov, then she’d be able to write her own ticket. But even with Eden in her corner, a Petrov exclusive was still a long shot.
And as for the prison break, she’d toyed with a number of ideas during her sleepless night, but only one held much appeal for her. She’d love to tell the story from a bounty hunter’s perspective, but that would entail Aidan’s cooperation, and despite his apology, he’d made his opinion of her profession crystal clear. Kaitlyn didn’t think it too likely that he’d change his mind anytime soon.
Which was unfortunate. Because that would have been one hell of a story.
WHEN KAITLYN WALKED into the office a little while later, the receptionist, Sherry Jackson, jumped up from her desk with a loud squeal and hurried around to give Kaitlyn a big hug.
A tall, big-busted redhead, Sherry had the typical fair complexion and freckles that came with her hair color, but had somehow managed to escape the stereotypical fiery disposition. Kaitlyn had never known anyone as easygoing as Sherry. The woman was never in a bad mood and that was quite an accomplishment, considering how tempers often flared at deadline time.
Still beaming, Sherry held Kaitlyn at arm’s length as she gave her a thorough once-over. “Well, honey, I have to say, you look pretty damn good for a woman who just knocked on death’s door. But I hear you fell on your head, so that probably saved you.”
Kaitlyn made a face. “Ha-ha, very funny.”
Sherry’s expression sobered. “You are okay, though, right? You know you scared us half to death, don’t you, when you didn’t show up for work on Wednesday morning. We knew something had to be wrong, so Ken and I called the county sheriff’s office and told them you were missing.”
“It’s a good thing you did,” Kaitlyn said, “or else I might still be out there on that ledge.”
“You must have been so scared. I like to kid around with you and all, but I’m dead serious about this. Don’t ever go off like that on your own again, okay? My heart couldn’t take it. And besides, this place just wouldn’t be the same with
out you.”
Kaitlyn was touched by the woman’s concern. “Oh, come on, you can’t get rid of me that easily. You know what they say about a bad penny.”
“Speaking of bad pennies…” Sherry cut her eyes toward the newsroom. “Cudlow has been in Ken’s office all morning.”
“What’s going on?” Kaitlyn asked anxiously. “Anything I should know about?”
Sherry bit her lip. “Yeah, probably, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
Kaitlyn had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “What is it?”
“Cudlow covered Craig Green’s press conference on Monday. He drove up to the prison instead of going to Helena for Petrov’s arrival.”
Kaitlyn’s mouth dropped in astonishment. “What? How did that happen?”
Sherry shrugged. “It seems there was a decoy plane. Petrov landed sometime earlier in the day, and Cudlow managed to get wind of it. He decided there wasn’t any point in driving all the way up to Helena just to camp out in front of Petrov’s hotel, so he took the long way around to the prison and missed all the flooding.”
“But why would he do that?” Kaitlyn asked in outrage. “He couldn’t have known that I would get stranded. There’s no way in hell he could have foreseen something like that.”
“He said he heard about the road closings on the radio and anticipated that you might not be able to get through.” Sherry gave Kaitlyn a sympathetic look. “I guess Ken was pretty impressed by his initiative because he’s pulled Allen off Petrov and put him on the fugitive story.”
“But that’s my story,” Kaitlyn said through clenched teeth. She could feel her blood starting to boil at the thought of Cudlow moving in on yet another one of her assignments.
It was like history repeating itself. Back when the previous editor in chief had been in charge, Cudlow had been given his choice of assignments while Kaitlyn had been reduced to nothing more than a glorified errand girl. She’d worked her butt off on story after story only to have Cudlow get the byline. She’d thought those days were behind her, but apparently not.
“We’ll just see about that,” she muttered as she spun toward the newsroom.
“Hold on, honey. I’ve got something else I want to tell you.” Sherry glanced past Kaitlyn into the newsroom as if to make sure the coast was clear. Then she head-gestured for Kaitlyn to come back over to her desk.
“What is it?”
“I may know a way you can get back in Ken’s good graces and stick it to Cudlow at the same time. You interested?”
“Is the Pope Catholic? Tell me more.”
Sherry nodded, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “I’ve got wind of something that no one else here knows about yet. Not even Cudlow. You could probably blow him right out of the water with it.”
Kaitlyn’s enthusiasm waned. “Wait a minute. Your aunt hasn’t had another premonition, has she?”
“No, but I’m telling you, you should go talk to her. Aunt Phyllis knows what she’s talking about. She predicted the flood, you know. And five years ago, she knew something bad was going to happen before the federal building exploded. She could probably help the cops find Boone Fowler if they’d listen to her, but people around here are so narrow-minded—”
“Sherry. Get to the point.”
“Okay.” She motioned for Kaitlyn to come even closer, and when Kaitlyn was standing right beside her desk, Sherry said in a low voice, “How does murder grab you, honey?”
“Murder?”
“Shush.” Sherry glanced back into the newsroom. “Keep your voice down. I’m not supposed to know anything about this.”
“About what? Sherry, what are you talking about?”
“You remember my cousin, Abbey, right? The one who works at the hospital? She had to take some papers down to the morgue last night, and she said someone from the county coroner’s office brought in a body while she was there. Everyone was acting all hush-hush about it, but she overheard just enough to know that the guy had been murdered. She said one of the younger deputies that accompanied the body looked pretty green around the gills, so she figured it must have been real gruesome.”
“Do you know who the victim was?”
“They weren’t able to make an ID, but an autopsy is scheduled for sometime this afternoon. You’re still friends with Dr. Lake, right?”
Dr. Andrea Lake was a pathologist on staff at Ponderosa Memorial, but in addition to her duties at the hospital, she also served as an associate medical examiner for the state of Montana.
She and Kaitlyn went way back. Years ago, Andrea’s family had lived next door to Kaitlyn and her mother, and although she was several years older than Kaitlyn, they’d always got on well. Both in their thirties now, they’d reached the age where a few years hardly mattered, and when Kaitlyn had moved back to Montana, she’d looked Andrea up and the two of them had become friends.
“Why don’t you give her a call?” Sherry suggested. “Or better yet, go over to the hospital and talk to her.”
Kaitlyn’s gaze narrowed. “You’re not trying to get rid of me, are you?”
“Oh, honey, don’t be silly. We just got you back. But I think it might be a good idea if you cool down a little before you talk to Ken. And besides, this is a good lead, right?”
“Yeah, it is a good lead. Thanks, Sherry.”
She perked up. “So you’ll talk to her?”
“I’m on my way.”
Because no matter what else was going on, murder was always big news in Ponderosa.
“THEY FOUND THE BODY, boss.”
Boone Fowler glanced up from the maps he’d been studying and frowned. “The feds are getting sharper, it seems.”
“The feds didn’t have anything to do with it.” Fowler’s second in command hesitated, as if dreading to give him the rest of the information. “My contact says two of Cameron Murphy’s men found him.”
“Murphy.” Fowler growled the name, personifying the sound with all the pent-up fury he’d been suppressing for the past five years. His rage terrified most people, but not Lyle Nelson. The two of them were like brothers. They’d been to hell and back together, and no one knew better than Nelson how deeply Fowler’s hatred for Murphy ran, because he felt it, too. He wanted revenge just as badly as Fowler, and one day soon, they’d have it.
“I’ll take care of him. Just say the word.” Nelson’s blue eyes gleamed at the prospect. He was proficient with guns and explosives, but like Fowler, he had a preference for knives. He could slice a man up in a thousand different ways and never break a sweat.
Suppressing his anger, Fowler clapped the man’s shoulder. “Take it easy. It won’t be long before Cameron Murphy and his men find out exactly what they’re up against. But this time, we’ll pick the time and place for the final battle, and they won’t even know what hit them. Until then, we have a job to do. A new boss to pacify.”
Nelson’s eyes turned hard. “You know where my loyalty lies. To the Cause.”
“As does mine. But to accomplish everything we’ve set out to do takes money, weapons, contacts. We need our new benefactor as much as he needs us.”
“And you trust him?”
“I don’t trust anyone. But if he isn’t a man of his word, he’ll live to regret it, just as Cameron Murphy will live to regret his interference. For now, though, we have a more pressing concern.”
Nelson nodded. “You’re talking about that reporter. She saw me kill him, didn’t she?”
“She saw and heard too much, that’s for damn sure, and if she puts it all together she could ruin everything.” Fowler’s grip tightened on Lyle’s shoulder. “But don’t you worry, my friend. We’ll take care of Kaitlyn Wilson. All we need is a little help from one of our own.”
CROSSING THE HOSPITAL lobby a little while later, Kaitlyn heard someone call out her name. Turning, she saw Phillip Becker striding toward her. She’d been heading for the elevators, but now she paused and waited for him to catch up to her.
“I th
ought that was you,” he said, when he drew even with her.
Today he looked more like the guy she remembered from high school, Kaitlyn decided. No more leather jacket or five-o’clock shadow. He wore a lab coat over his street clothes and his dark-rimmed glasses, along with his rumpled hair, gave him a bit of an absentminded-professor look.
Phillip wasn’t a bad-looking guy. He was tall and thin with dark hair and nice features. But with Phillip, there was a fine line between handsome and repulsive.
Kaitlyn didn’t like feeling that way about him, and she tried not to let her reaction show on her face as she smiled. “Hello, Phillip.”
“Is everything okay?” he asked anxiously.
“I’m fine. Practically as good as new. I’m not here as a patient. I…came to see a friend.”
“Oh, anyone I know?”
“No, I don’t think so,” she evaded. Glancing at her watch, she said, “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I only have a few minutes before I have to get back to the paper.”
“I understand.” But something flickered in his dark eyes. Disapproval? Anger? Kaitlyn couldn’t quite tell. “I won’t keep you. Before I let you go, though, I’d like to ask you something…” He paused, as if suddenly at a loss for words. Then shrugging, he said, “I don’t know that many people in town anymore. I haven’t had much time to renew old acquaintances since I moved back here. I was wondering…if we could have dinner sometime.”
Now it was Kaitlyn who was at a loss for words. He’d taken her completely by surprise, and she didn’t know what to say. The last thing she wanted to do was spend an evening with Phillip Becker, and yet she couldn’t just turn him down. How rude would that be? Besides, one dinner wouldn’t kill her.
She smiled and nodded. “Sure. I’d like that. But…I’m swamped at work right now. Give me a few days to catch up.”
“I understand. I’ll give you a call next week.”
He smiled then, and Kaitlyn was mildly shocked by the transformation. He was full-out handsome when he smiled, and yet there was still something about him that made her want to recoil when he reached out and touched her arm. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
Going to Extremes Page 9
