He wasn’t cut out to be a cop. All the damn rules-that was his problem. He could never obey blindly, not when a rule didn’t make any sense. But there had been one time when that tendency to disobey rules had caused the death of four people…
Daniel walked back to Cleo’s room, rapping on the open door before stepping inside. She was exactly as they’d left her, staring out the window at the expanse of sky.
“I knew nobody would believe me,” she said in the monotone she’d used before.
“Did he give you any reason for abducting you?” Daniel asked.
“I guess it’s all for the best,” she said, her mind apparently still caught up in Jo’s reaction. “Now I can just leave. No tedious questions. No statements to make.”
“Cleo, I believe you.”
She turned. There was no relief in her flat eyes. “Why? Why now?”
“I just do. Accept that so we can concentrate on putting together enough evidence to bring him in.”
She was silent a moment. Then, “He said I knew something about him. Something he didn’t want anybody to know.”
“What?”
“I have no idea. That’s what I told him. I don’t know anything. But he insisted I do, and that it will eventually come out.”
“Is there anything else you can think of? Anything at all?”
“He said something about not meaning to hurt somebody.”
Daniel approached the bed and checked the IV. It would be empty in a few hours. “The nurse said this is your last bag of fluid. When it’s finished, I want you out of here. It might not be safe.”
Her skin grew paler. “I can’t go back to that motel.”
“I want you to come home with me.”
At first he wasn’t sure she’d heard him.
“That’s ridiculous.”
He rushed on to explain. “I want to keep an eye on you. You can use my mother’s old room.”
From behind him came the soft-soled footsteps of a nurse. “Your brother’s on the phone,” she said. “Do you want us to transfer the call to your room, or tell him to call back later?”
“I’ll take it.” Cleo pressed her hands against the mattress, shoving herself higher. The nurse left, and Daniel picked up the receiver from the bedside table and handed it to Cleo.
“ Adrian.” There was a softness to Cleo’s voice Daniel had never heard before.
“I’m fine,” she said. There was a pause. “I swear.”
Daniel turned and walked slowly from the room, the murmur of her voice carrying into the hallway. Or maybe his ears were just tuned to her frequency.
“No, Adrian. Don’t do that. Please. I’m fine. You don’t need to come.” Another pause. “You must wonder if it’s always going to be like this,” she said sadly. “Do you wonder if I’ll always be a burden to you?”
He must have answered in the negative, because her voice grew soft again, less tense. “I love you.”
That was followed by a long silence on her part. Daniel could imagine her brother asking questions Adrian didn’t want to ask.
“Yes,” she said. “They know who did it. They’ll find him… No, not yet, but they’ll arrest him very soon. I’m not in any danger… Yes, people are watching out for me.”
Another question. “No.” Her voice dropped. “I wasn’t raped. I swear. And even if I had been, well, it wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it? Worse things have happened and I’ve gotten though them, haven’t I?” She was using a tone of voice Daniel was becoming familiar with-the bubbly bluff.
Then she told him again that she loved him and said goodbye.
Daniel left with a heaviness in his chest that he didn’t understand. The first thing he did when he got home was call Campbell ’s house. When no one answered, he called Campbell ’s office.
“Dr. Campbell is out of town,” the receptionist told him.
“Where’d he go?”
“He didn’t say.”
“Surely he left a number where he can be reached.”
“I’m sorry. The only number he left was his associate’s, in case of an emergency.”
“Isn’t that unusual?”
“No. They always take care of each other’s emergencies. It works out very well for both of them.”
Daniel hung up then put in a call to the state police.
“Crime scene was picked clean,” the head of investigations told him. “Nothing there.”
“Shit.” Daniel followed that with a few words of thanks then hung up. He left the station and headed for the hospital, stopping to pick up some clothes for Cleo on the way.
The IV monitor was beeping when Daniel appeared, two shopping bags in his hands.
“Clothes,” he said, dropping the bags on the bed. “No sign of your suitcase yet, so I figured the only stitch of clothing you have to your name is what you were wearing yesterday.”
“It wasn’t mine.”
“What do you mean?”
“The black slip. He gave it to me to put on.”
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
The nurse finally showed up to shut off the beeping machine. “We can take that needle out now,” she announced.
“Do you know what happened to her clothes?” Daniel asked.
“Her belongings should be in a bag in her closet.”
Daniel checked. “Are you sure this is where it would be?” he asked.
“Positive.”
The nurse loosened the tape on the back of Cleo’s hand then gently removed the needle. There were the customary release papers to sign, then the nurse bid Cleo a cheery farewell.
Alone with Daniel, Cleo picked up one of the bags he’d dropped on the bed. It felt weird to think of his going into a store and buying clothes for her.
Here they’d been as intimate as two people could be, yet his buying clothes seemed more familiar than the act of sex. Why? Was it because it would have required more thought on his part? Was it because he would have had to think about her, about her size, maybe even her likes and dislikes?
She hadn’t looked at his purchases yet, she told herself. For all she knew, he could have run into a store and grabbed the first thing he saw.
She pulled out a bundle of clothes. No pink polyester pantsuit, thank God. And nothing orange, which would have been even worse. And no Ozarks T-shirt. No, what he’d gotten was something she might have picked out herself. A skirt with a pattern of tiny flowers. A short-sleeved top with a V-neck. Panties. Plain bikinis of white cotton, with a bra to match. For her feet, sandals not unlike the ones she’d had.
She hadn’t cried, not once, during her entire ordeal. She hadn’t even begged for her life. But now she felt the pressure of tears against the back of her throat. She felt a stinging in her eyes. She blinked, her fingers curling tightly into the fabric of the top.
“Hey, if you don’t like them,” he said quickly, “I can get something else.”
He tried to take the clothes from her, but she wouldn’t let go.
“It’s okay.” His little show of panic got her past the danger point. She no longer felt like dissolving into a storm of weeping. “These are fine.”
“Right. Okay.” He dug into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a knife. He opened it and sliced the tags from the clothes. Finished, he threw the tags away and closed the knife blade against his leg before pocketing it. Then he stepped outside the door to give her privacy.
Cleo slipped on the panties, but couldn’t undo the knot in the gown. She ended up calling for Daniel’s help. She bent her head, chin to chest, while he fumbled at the back of her neck, untying the knot. Then he quickly disappeared again.
She let the gown fall to her waist, then went about trying to fasten the bra. Her arms were too weak, her fingers too stiff, and she had to give up. The top was easier. That was followed by the skirt, and finally the sandals, which she dropped to the floor, toed into position, and slipped on her feet. They were a half size too small, but it didn’t matter because of the open back. She stuck the bra in the bag.