The emergency room doctor took some X rays and examined Colt so thoroughly, even Mrs. Hilbert was satisfied that there was no need to admit him to the hospital.
It was after midnight when they finally arrived back at the lodge, too late to phone Paula. Mrs. Hilbert helped Colt to bed and fetched his laptop for him before letting herself out.
With each day that had passed, Colt’s hopes of hearing from Monique had grown a little dimmer. Therefore, he was thunderstruck to find her e-mail waiting.
Dear Jig-Saw,
I’m sorry you got hurt, but my intentions were noble. Friends help friends, and I thought you were my friend. Once I learned what had happened, I came to the hospital to see you, but you were sleeping. Things got a little hairy, and with Simon on the rampage, it was too risky to wait around. My friend Patrick says nothing’s impossible with God, and that I should trust Him. I’m trying, but it isn’t easy after living by my own wits all this time. I for give you for deceiving me, and wish you a speedy recovery.
Monique.
Despite the lateness of the hour, Colt phoned Walt with the news. On Walt’s advice, he called police headquarters and spoke with Detective Browning.
In so doing, Colt learned that Lefty Banks had signed a confession stating he was driving the car that struck Colt. Banks also claimed that he and his partner Hunter Cates had gone to Monique’s house with orders from Simon Burwell to retrieve the incriminating postcard, and if possible, collect Monique as well. They now had an arrest warrant for Simon Burwell.
“I notified the Wyoming authorities right away. They are reopening their files on Myrtle Byron’s death and are very anxious to talk with Monique. Give her my number. Wherever she is, we’ll pick her up. Full police protection,” he emphasized.
Colt drafted an e-mail to that effect and reread Monique’s missive. Patrick Delaney’s name stuck out like a sore thumb. All at once, something Paula said in connection to Delaney and Shelby’s intended honeymoon destination leaped to the foreground. Wildwood! It was such a long shot, Colt decided to sleep on it.
The possibility, though slim, still seemed feasible in the morning. Colt knew that he’d be pursuing it at his own peril where his future with Paula was concerned—Monique’s name continued to be a hot button with her. Hearing water running next door, he picked up the phone and dialed Paula’s number.
“Good morning! I thought I heard you stirring over there.”
“Yes. Joy’s going to walk to the church garden with me this morning if you’d like to come along,” she invited. “Or are you up to it, after your fall?”
“I’m up to it. But I’m running a little behind, so I think I’ll pass.”
“If you called to talk to Joy, she’s in the shower. I’ll have her call you back,” offered Paula.
“Or we could just chat until she’s free,” said Colt.
“Fine with me,” Paula said. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Anything. Pick a subject. Any subject.”
Paula’s morning voice conveyed a smile. “I haven’t had my coffee yet. How about I let you pick?” she accommodated him nicely.
“Very well, then. Tell me about Wildwood.”
“Outside Liberty Flats? That Wildwood?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a nice place with a lovely view. Part farm, part timber, part campground. Why do you ask?” said Paula.
“Filler conversation, remember.”
“Right.” Paula chuckled.
“So tell me, who operates the place?” asked Colt.
“Trace and Thomasina Austin. They cater to church groups and at-risk children, though not to the exclusion of the general public. There are private cabins, a bed-and-breakfast, and dorm-style cabins for church camps,” Paula said.
“If I were to make reservations, how far in advance would I have to do so?” Colt circumvented all mention of Monique.
“It’s off-season. I doubt very much that you’d need reservations.”
“That’s good to know. In the event of a second honeymoon, for instance.” He couldn’t resist trying the idea out on her.
“Anyone I know?” she countered.
He chuckled. “You.”
“I’ll pass for now. But I would agree to pick up where we left off last evening,” she said.
“Talking?”
“Yes, talking,” she replied with emphasis. “What did you think?”
“I’d rather tell you in person,” he said. “Will you have breakfast with me?”
“If you don’t mind waiting a bit,” said Paula.
“That’s fine. Bring Joy with you.” Colt named a restaurant that boasted round-the-clock down-home cooking and bluegrass music. “I’ll have Mrs. Hilbert drop me by.”
“She’s there now?”
“No. But I expect her any time. I’ll call you if I’m running late. Oh, by the way, I have some good news. The police have the hit-and-run driver in custody.”
Paula gave a glad cry of relief. “Why didn’t you say so?”
“I hated to start the morning off on that note,” claimed Colt.
“But they’ve got the right guy?”
“He signed a confession.” Briefly, Colt filled her in on what Detective Browning had related to him by phone.
“What about the hospital scare? With Joy, I mean. Is Banks the one?” asked Paula.
“I’m afraid not. He was in court at the time.” Colt related what he had learned from Walt.
“Who, then?” asked Paula.
“I don’t know. Simon Burwell could have sent another thug or gone to the hospital himself, I guess,” said Colt, though privately he couldn’t feature Burwell involving himself in such foolhardy melodramatics as Joy described.
“To cover the tracks of those he hired,” said Paula. “That could get to be an endless job. The more men he involves in his dirty work, the higher the odds someone’s going to snitch on him.”
“Exactly. I’m still working through that one.” Colt kept his growing doubts concerning Joy’s story to himself.
A small silence followed. When Paula spoke, it was to say, “I’d very much like to go home. Do you think it’s safe?”
“Might be a good idea to wait until Burwell is in custody first.”
“Do they know where he is?”
“No.” Colt again decided against bringing up Monique’s name, and Browning’s hope that she could provide information concerning her ex-husband’s whereabouts.
But in her next breath, Paula pursued a similar thread, asking, “Has Walt heard from that fellow Delaney?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, Delaney did return his call to say he and Monique had shared a seat on the church bus coming home from the retreat.” Colt related what Walt had told him.
“So she was telling the truth about the retreat!” said Paula. “Go figure.”
“Caught me by surprise, too,” admitted Colt.
“Does Delaney know where she is now?”
“He says he hasn’t seen her since the retreat,” said Colt.
“Would he lie to protect her?” asked Paula.
“I have no idea,” said Colt.
“Are they an item?” she asked.
“Just friends, I think. Why?”
“I just wondered.”
Colt feared she might view it presumptuous of him, should he once again underscore the fact that his interest in Monique was purely business. He was spared a response, because Paula spoke into his hesitation, saying, “Joy’s out of the shower now. Hold on, I’ll call her to the phone.”
Colt tested the waters to see if Joy was still feeling bruised over his advice concerning Shelby’s book. Apparently her annoyance had dissipated in the night. She wanted to know if he was able to take the tram ride up the mountainside. Or would that be too strenuous for him on his crutches?
Mrs. Hilbert arrived to kick-start Colt’s day just as he got off the phone. It took her awhile to check his healing wounds and make him presentable. She agreed to drop him by the restaurant.
Colt thanked her and didn’t object when she suggested he use the wheelchair. “I need to make one last call first, if you’ll excuse me.”
Mrs. Hilbert tactfully withdrew, giving Colt the privacy he needed in able to be forthright in sharing his hunch with Detective Browning.
“Wildwood? Never heard of it,” responded Detective Browning.
“Delaney has. He once planned to honeymoon there.”
“Cue me on this Delaney,” said Browning.
“He’s a corporate attorney. People seem to think well of him. He volunteers at the Can-Do Mission, which is where he met Monique. He’s tried to help her back on her feet, finding her affordable housing, that sort of thing. He even lined her up with a computer so she could work on another book. It’s possible he mentioned Wildwood to her. Maybe in passing, or—”
“You think he’s tucked her away there?” Browning was quick to the point.
“It’s a long shot,” said Colt. “But there’d be no harm in checking.”
Browning warned Colt not to tell anyone that he had heard from Monique, or mention his notion about Wildwood.
“Then you’re going to follow through?”
“You bet,” said Browning.
If Monique proved to be in Wildwood, the whole thing could come down quickly. Profile Magazine could be first with the in-depth story. To that end, Colt said, “Call and let me know what you learn. If this pans out, I’d like to cover it ahead of the pack.”
“I understand. By the way, I’ve hit a lot of dead ends, looking for whoever it was who threatened your daughter. I’m stumped on motivation, too,” added Browning.
It jarred Colt to hear his own doubts echoed by a professional. He said nothing.
“Is your girl capable of making up a story like that?” pressed Browning.
Torn over the possibility and reluctant to discuss it, particularly with the police, Colt said, “You’re asking the wrong person.”
“What’s her mother say about it?”
“It hasn’t come up,” said Colt.
“It’s time it did. Take it up with Mrs. Blake,” said Browning.
And say what? wondered Colt. By the way, babe, Detective Browning has some serious doubts about Joy’s truthfulness.
Colt braced himself for fireworks and tried Paula on the phone. There was no answer. Was she out walking? Or at the restaurant, waiting?
Running out of time, Colt rolled himself out to the parking lot. The lift on Mrs. Hilbert’s van expedited matters. She anchored his wheelchair securely, and was about to pull away when Colt’s cell phone chirped.
“Browning here. Thanks for the hot tip.”
Startled, Colt motioned for Mrs. Hilbert to wait. “That didn’t take long,” he said to Browning.
“Accomplished it by phone.”
“And?”
“Bingo!” said Browning.
“Does she know you’re coming?” Colt followed the detective’s cautious suit and didn’t mention Monique’s name.
“No. I don’t want to spook her. How’s your rapport with her?”
“Not bad,” said Colt. “I’d be willing to tag along and break the ice for you.”
“I was hoping you’d say that. How soon can you catch a flight back to the city?” asked Browning.
“I’ll get right on it.”
“Good. We’ll work on the details once you get here.”
At Colt’s request, Mrs. Hilbert went inside and fetched his laptop and his crutches while he checked with the airlines. There was a flight to Chicago scheduled to leave just before noon. Unwilling to wait that long, Colt phoned a charter service. As luck would have it, he was able to make arrangements to fly out immediately.
En route to the airport, Colt tried to reach Paula to cancel their breakfast date. But she didn’t answer her cell phone, nor did she answer his page at the restaurant. At a loss, he penned a note which Mrs. Hilbert agreed to deliver to the lodge.
“You’re a jewel, Mrs. Hilbert,” he said, and tipped her generously for her trouble.