Catherine kept the conversation at the thrift shop as brief as possible. Small-town curiosity was a real phenomenon and she knew the few patrons thumbing through the racks were tracking her every move. Merely observing a newcomer, or were they on edge from the alert of Stone’s escape? She studiously avoided eye contact, pulled down her cap and slid on her glasses, hoping they would not decide to start up a friendly chat. You’re Molly, remember? Painful though it was, she would hold on to her fake identity a little while longer.
As she handed over her payment for the garments she’d selected, she caught a snatch of conversation from the two women sifting through used paperbacks.
“...how Bill Stone must feel. He lost his wife, one son a fugitive, and the one he’s got left milking him for everything.”
How Porter’s dad must feel? Anger warmed her belly as she strode out. Whatever Bill Stone had lost had been the fault of his own kin, his son’s murderous actions. Her father was a complete innocent. As far as “the one he’s got left,” she could only assume that meant Wyatt. She’d heard bits and pieces from Antonia that the brothers had been close before the murder, sharing an interest in metal detecting and following the same college basketball team.
How did it feel to Wyatt now, to know what his brother had become? The Stones had once been a seemingly functional family of four, living not far from her uncle. Antonia had actually met Porter when he was working his second job as a pizza delivery guy in Durnsville.
The area was quiet outside. A sporadically traveled main street with an auto repair place, a tiny post office and a coffee shop. There was a trickle of people visiting a business where they could rent gear for river rafting and fishing poles, or snag trail maps of Mt. Shasta. The Klamath River and the area’s many lakes provided plenty of fishing opportunities. The region was an adventurer’s playground, especially in spring and summer.
Her Uber app showed no available drivers in the vicinity. Not much business in such a rural location. A cab maybe? Yes, there was a company she could call.
She was about to dial her phone when a car pulled up at the curb and a familiar saggy-eared dog shoved his head out the rear window to greet her, slinging a trail of saliva in his excitement. The passenger glass slid down.
“We were in the neighborhood,” Garrett called out. “Thought I could give you a lift back to the hospital.”
She didn’t want to be in the car with him again, but two ladies, their arms laden with shopping bags, were exiting the store, whispering to each other. It felt as though the shoppers, the people on the other side of the street and even those driving by were staring. She found herself reaching for the door and sliding in.
Pinkerton let loose with a throaty yowl of joy that made her chuckle.
Garrett’s smile was wide, as if there wasn’t a strange and twisted history between them.
“Uh, thank you,” she said stiffly.
“My pleasure.”
He sounded so sincere, but that was part of his act, she decided. Smooth, funny, self-deprecating Garrett Wolfe. It probably made young women fall in love with him all the time. That husky voice and the crooked smile would surely have snagged her interest too ten years ago, when they’d met, if she hadn’t been in shock over her father’s murder. The clean scent of his soap made her inhale a little deeper until she corrected herself.
He reached behind the seat and pulled out a cardboard tray holding two steaming cups.
“I owe you a coffee, since we never got around to drinking one at the business meeting.”
The meeting from which she’d been abducted and probably would be dead if Garrett hadn’t followed her. With gratitude, she accepted one, letting the warm steam soothe her senses. For the second time that day she thanked him. It felt both wrong and right at the same time. After a deep breath she added, “And I should also thank you for following me and intervening at the bridge. I—” She cleared her throat to add more, but he cut her off.
“God put me in the right spot, is all.”
His humility, his faith, felt soothing, like the steam rising to warm her cheeks. But she shouldn’t feel soothed, not here and now, and especially not with him. He wasn’t a cop and he wouldn’t be involved in the case going forward. “I’m sorry for what I said, about you letting Stone escape.” She couldn’t quite look at him while she said it, but she felt his gaze on her.
“I can see how it might have looked like that.” His tone was subdued, pained. “If it makes you feel any better, the department put me on leave and investigated.”
She did look at him now and the shame on his face was clear before he covered it up with a half smile. “Anyway...if you need to hear me say it again, I didn’t let him go, and if I had that two minutes back, I would never have allowed it to happen.”
His sorrow struck a chord and she reached out and took his hand. “I believe that.” His fingers gripped hers and the powerful connection she felt shocked her into letting go. This would not do. Take the ride. Then you’ll never see him again. Remember that your uncle’s been abducted.
“Are you all right, Catherine?”
She realized the cup was quivering in her unsteady fingers and Pinkerton was snuffling her hair.
“Yes,” she said, managing to get out the single word as she reached up to touch Pinkerton’s satin ears. He licked her cheek, and the side of her coffee cup for good measure, before she moved it out of range. “Just eager to get back to my sister.”
He put his own coffee in the holder. As he prepared to turn out, his phone rang. After checking the caller ID, he put it on speaker. “I’m here with Catherine, Officer Hagerty. Go ahead.”
“An update, and it isn’t much,” Hagerty said. “Stone didn’t turn up at his family’s place that we can confirm. Witness saw the vehicle headed north, away from town.”
She held the cup tighter to stop the trembling. There were miles of open space to the north, wild rock formations and trees so thick they concealed vast secret canyons. How would they be able to find Uncle Orson? She bit back a groan.
“Going to double back with Antonia with more questions,” Hagerty said. “We’ve sent out BOLOs to the neighboring counties in case Stone slipped by us.”
If he had, would she ever see her uncle alive again?
“I’m giving Catherine a ride to the hospital now. We’ll meet you there.”
“Check in with me. I’m going to make a statement to the press about what went down and I want to try and keep Catherine’s name out of it as best I can. We’re going to have to get creative and you’re the most creative guy I know.”
“Thanks... I think.”
“You’re welcome,” Hagerty said, then ended the call.
They drove in silence for a couple of blocks. There was a distinct pink flush to Garrett’s cheeks. “I, uh, I was wondering if you and your sister had decided where to stay, or anything.”
In fact she’d been wrestling with that very problem. Sticking to her fake name was probably the best way to stay safe, but occupying Uncle Orson’s home wasn’t. The hotel might be an option, but she’d have to show ID and that would mean handing over her information to a nosy desk clerk.
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Maybe—”
“We’ll figure it out,” she said, cutting him off and drinking too fast from her coffee. Whatever he’d meant to say, she didn’t want to hear, especially if it was his offer of help. She and her sister had been going it alone for a decade and that’s the way she meant to keep things. “How’s your mother?”
He looked surprised. “Nice of you to remember in light of everything that’s happened. She’s prepared for the surgery, probably nervous, but she’d never let on.”
“And you’re worried.”
“Nah. Not me.”
She pointed. “That little groove in your forehead? That’s a worry groove.”
He laughed. “Is it? I thought it was a distinguished mark of studious thought.” He shrugged. “I will admit to a little concern about Mom. It’s a complicated surgery and the outcome isn’t guaranteed. She’s needed it for a long while—her pain escalates every year, but she’s always found reasons to put her health on hold to take care of us.”
“Beth seems stubborn, like my sister.”
Garrett grinned. “Maybe ‘determined’ is a better word. She has an iron will and a velvet heart.”
A return smile crept out of nowhere. She could not help but envy Garrett a little. The center of his world was his family—a loving mother and devoted siblings. There was something so right about that and so rare.
He sighed. “Dad would have been able to convince her to do it.”
“How old were you when he died?”
“Fifteen.”
Even younger than she’d been when her father was murdered. The sad echo in his words resonated in the empty space her father’s death had left inside. She had the strange urge to take his hand again and show him she understood, experience a shared connection with him one more time.
But he has a parent left and you have no one.
Thanks to him.
The thought didn’t land right. Why not? She’d blamed Garrett for ten years for letting Stone escape.
But Garrett hadn’t taken her father’s life. He was simply the one left on whom she’d hung her burden of anger. Him and God. The surprising thought welled up from way down in her spirit and along with it a little extra space to take a deeper breath. It wasn’t enough to blow away the resentment and pain, but a sufficient quantity that her ribs expanded for what felt like the first time in years and she felt as if she could look at Garrett and see him better. There was pain in him, and gentleness. Strange, she thought, to notice that.
Now she was practically guzzling the coffee, sifting through the barrage that hit her as they approached the hospital. Emotions she should be feeling, and those she shouldn’t. What a muddled mess. After Garrett found a space in the parking structure, he slipped a gray vest with the Security Hounds logo around Pinkerton.
“He’s allowed in?”
Garrett clipped a leash to the harness. “Pinky is, and Steph’s dog, Chloe. Mom’s dog, Arthur, would be welcome anytime as well. Wally, Roman’s bloodhound, on the other hand, has been permanently barred from hospital visitations. The charge nurse said if he ever set a paw in the place again, she’d personally take after him with a broom.”
“Not well behaved?”
“An unrepentant food scoundrel through and through. I believe there are even wanted posters with his picture in the hospital cafeteria after an unfortunate meat-loaf incident.”
She giggled. They made their way to the main building where she saw two police officers talking to the charge nurse. Her stomach knotted. Had they found Uncle Orson? Would it be better to know the truth? Or to live in the uncertain hope that her uncle was okay and Stone had not harmed him?
She was startled when Garrett put a palm on her lower back and urged her forward. “Keep going,” he whispered in her ear, and she felt breath-teasing prickles on her neck. Confused, pulse accelerating, she passed him and didn’t stop until she joined the people mingling in the lobby.
When she risked a look, she saw Garrett break stride inside the sliding doors as a man appeared with his cell phone outstretched. Pinkerton waggled his bottom in happy greeting and Garrett maintained his warm smile, but she noted the tension in his shoulders.
The man angled his phone toward Garrett.
“Mr. Wolfe, I’m from WKR News.”
Her spirit sank. The press. She should have expected it.
“We understand Orson Hart has been abducted from his home.”
Garrett nodded. “I heard the same. I’m sure law enforcement is doing all they can.”
“An eyewitness saw you at the scene.”
She saw Garrett offer a bland smile, appearing totally at ease. “What eyewitness was that?”
“Tom Rudden, an employee for a security company. He also said there were two women there too. Can you confirm that? Were they Orson Hart’s nieces? Antonia? Catherine?”
Catherine held her breath as Garrett waved a careless hand. “Sorry. The hound and I are here to visit a friend. You’ll have to ask Officer Hagerty about the details.”
The reporter was scanning the lobby. “Who was that woman you walked in with?”
Catherine shrank behind a patient shuffling by with her walker.
“A woman?” Garrett said, smile never waning. “Who knows? It’s a hospital, right? Lots of people coming and going.”
Garrett strode away from the reporter, who hustled to the desk, likely in search of more information. She hoped the staff had been well-trained in privacy matters. Garrett caught her eye as he paused at the drinking fountain and pointed to the elevator, concealing his gesture with his body.
He wanted her to go up to Antonia’s floor first, in case the reporter was still watching.
As casually as she could, she entered behind two chatting nurses and pressed the third-floor button. Her tension escalated when the elevator stopped as she expected to see another reporter ready to shove a camera in her face. They’d had enough of that when their father had been killed. All those media hounds, hungry for a story. She had to think of somewhere for her and her sister to go while they awaited word, a place where they’d be out of the public eye.
When she stepped off the elevator, she was startled to see Garrett already there with a panting Pinkerton, who immediately glued his nose to her knee and licked a friendly greeting.
“We took the stairs,” Garrett said. “Good exercise.”
Pinkerton’s tongue lolled from his mouth like an enormous pink ribbon. “I’m not sure your dog agrees.”
“Gotta stay in shape to chase those pesky squirrels, buddy.” He patted the rust-colored fur.
The nurse behind the desk glanced at Catherine. “Your sister’s been asking for you. She got the doctor’s all clear. We’re working on the discharge papers.”
At least that was good news. “Thank you. Can I see her now? I brought her some clothes.”
“Sure. She was eating a late lunch. Asked for an extra fruit cup, so that’s a good sign.”
Catherine pushed through the door. The bed was unoccupied, the sheets tousled, and there was a tray with a crumpled napkin. The bathroom door was closed. Catherine waited a few moments before she tapped. “Hey, sis. It’s me. Ready to bust you out of here.”
There was no reply so she tapped again, louder, and reached for the handle. The door swung open.
It was empty.
“Garrett,” she called.
He and Pinkerton were at her side in seconds.
Catherine looked around helplessly. “She’s gone.”
He was already on his phone. “Texting Hagerty.”
She clutched the bag of clothes, turning in slow circles, trying to imagine what had happened. A deep cold seeped into her. “Stone must have taken her.”
“I don’t think so.”
She jerked a look at him. “How do you know?”
The nurse poked her head in. “Something wrong?”
“Antonia’s gone. Do you know where?”
“Not a clue. I didn’t see her leave but I was busy with another patient.”
Garrett eyed the bedside tray. “What was delivered for her lunch?”
The nurse appeared puzzled.
He pointed. “What was on the tray?”
“Ham sandwich, a fruit cup and container of chicken noodle soup, a chocolate pudding. She requested bottled water, so we found one of those too.”
Catherine understood now. There were no empty containers left. What’s more, the top bed blanket was missing, as was one of the two pillows from the bed along with Antonia’s dirty jeans. “She packed the food and took it along with the water bottle. And she sent me on an errand to get me out of the way.”
The nurse frowned. “Why would she do that?”
It’s my fault. I’m going to fix it. Catherine’s pulse hammered.
Garrett bent to look directly at her. “Catherine?”
“She blames herself for what happened to Uncle Orson.”
He let out a long slow breath. “She’s gone to find Stone herself, hasn’t she?”
Catherine could only nod and hold back the tears.