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“There were times during the past few days when I was afraid I’d never hold you like this again. I’ve missed it…missed this…missed you.” He kissed her temple, then her cheek, and then her lips, softly and chastely. Lowering her back onto the pillow, he said, “Now rest.”
“I will.”
“If you change your mind about wanting something to eat, wanting anything, promise you’ll call me.”
“I promise. Rest well. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Bright and early. I can’t wait to quit this town.” He blew her a kiss at the door.
After he left, despair descended on her like some dark, malevolent bird, its wings widespread, covering her completely. Would she always feel this miserable with guilt over the lies she had told and continued to tell?
Throwing off the light blanket, she got out of bed. Pulling the IV pole along with her, she went over to the closet and took out the plastic bag that contained her belongings. She pulled from it her left running shoe, and from beneath the inner sole of it, she took out the map.
Knight had forgotten to get it from her before he left. As soon as she was alone in the room, she had retrieved the map from her jacket pocket and put it in her shoe, the only place she could think of to hide it until she was away from the hospital where she could safely throw it away.
She wasn’t really concealing anything. She’d been truthful about the name of the trail she’d taken, if not specific about the narrower paths she’d branched off onto, some of which deviated from the trail she’d marked.
All the same, she would hang onto the map, not wishing to make it easier for investigators to retrace her exact route and possibly find something left behind, a clue as to her rescuer’s identity or the location of his cabin.
Sam Knight, despite his “aw shucks” manner, was still a lawman. Unanswered questions and missing details nagged him. He’d l
ed her to believe the case was as good as closed. But if that were true, why was he interested in seeing the map? Why were investigators still searching the trail?
The detective remained curious about her Good Samaritan.
Chapter 26
The phone deep inside his coat pocket vibrated.
He took it out, read the LED: BLOCKED CALL.
He answered but didn’t say anything.
“It’s me,” Rebecca said.
He’d lied to Emory about not having a cell phone. He had dozens, off-brands he bought in the supermarket, the kind that sold for practically a dime a dozen, disposable. They were used only to communicate with his sister.
Each time he called her, he gave her the number for the next phone, then destroyed the one he’d just used. That way, she always had an untraceable number to call if she needed to reach him in an emergency.
He braced himself to receive bad news. “What’s happened?”
“Special Agent Jack Connell came to call.”
He hadn’t seen that coming, and for a moment he was speechless. Then, in a stage whisper, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I wish.”
“When was this?”
“Today.”
After four years, Connell had showed up today. The day Emory was returned to her husband, when she’d been surrounded by law enforcement officers and media. Coincidence? The two events had occurred three thousand miles apart. What possible link could they have to each other? Only one. Him.
“What did he want?”
“What do you think? You.”
“Son of a bitch.”
