He went to the closet and got the components of her cell phone from one of his coat pockets. He restored it and checked to make sure it had a signal, then pitched it onto the bed directly in front of her.
“Call a car service,” he said. “Call that woman with the wild hair and orange glasses and ask her to come get you. Or, if you’d rather, take that ugly car Carson borrowed from his brother-in-law. Keys are there on the table. You can let Carson know when and where to reclaim it.”
Kerra searched his eyes for a flicker of the passion and heat that had been in them earlier when he was wooing her. But there was no emotion whatsoever in the implacable eyes that stared back at her now.
She picked up her phone.
Gracie answered on the first ring. “Kerra?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Thank God! Are you all right? Do you know how frantic I’ve been? This is about the fourth heart attack you’ve caused me this week. Where are you?”
“I apologize for not calling sooner. I didn’t mean to bring on a heart attack.”
“Just tell me you’re all right.”
“I’m all right.”
In an undertone, Gracie asked, “Are you saying that under duress?”
“Duress? No.”
“It’s been rumored that John Trapper abducted you from the hospital parking lot.”
“That’s ridiculous. I bumped into him at the hospital. It was getting a little claustrophobic. Guards on me. Media clamoring for a sound bite from him. We each felt the need for some space.”
“He had better get used to small spaces. The truck he was driving was stolen.”
“He didn’t know that. There was some confusion.”
“I’ll say. The cops who tried to chase him down were damn sure confused. Where did you go?”
Kerra sighed. “It’s a long story, Gracie, and I’m too weary to tell it. The upshot is that we got waylaid by the storm and wound up at a motel on the interstate. I don’t even know the name of it.”
Gracie realized she was getting a heavily edited version. “I can read between the lines. I hope you had fun with the hunk. In your place, I would have been all over him.”
“It wasn’t much fun, actually. I … He and I parted company. I’m at home.”
“You’re at home? That’s great! I can leave Podunk Town and hurry back. We’ll do tonight’s interview from the studio.”
“I’m not going to do the interview.”
Gracie sputtered, “But the police, or sheriffs, or whatever they are up here, have given their permission.”
“I’m still uncomfortable with it.”
“Not to worry. I’ll call the station. We’ll have plenty of protection for you, a whole lot better than—”
“I’m not concerned for my safety. It’s … it’s everything, Gracie.”
“What’s that mean? Everything such as what?”
Kerra took a deep breath. “That’s all I’m going to say right now except that I won’t be appearing on tonight’s newscast. From the start I had reservations about it.”
“But there’s good news. The Major is off the critical list. He’s improving by the hour.”
“I know. I talked to him earlier today.”
“You did?”
“By phone. Each of us had been worried about the other. Talking alleviated some of our concerns.”
“Fantastic! The sensitivity issue no longer applies.”
“It applies to me. The Major is no longer critical, but he sounds weak. He’s fretful. Worried about my safety because the suspects who tried to kill us are still at large.”
“Regarding that,” Gracie said, “you’re not helping to capture them. You’re impeding the investigation. Or so the sheriff said.”
“He did? When?”
“Little while ago. Came pounding on my motel room door, demanding to know if I’d heard from you. Glowering. Red in the face and using Law and Order jargon about you being a hostile material witness.”
“I cooperated fully and told him everything I know.”
“The FBI will probably want to question you, though.”
“FBI?”
“Addison—is that his name?—said that the feds have taken over center ring, and he’s chalking that up to your disappearing act. He’s pissed, and that’s putting it mildly.”
Kerra said nothing for a moment, then, “If I’m questioned again, I’m going to have a lawyer with me. But for right now, I’m going to unplug. I’ve already emailed the news director telling him that I need to use some sick days.”
“This story is still hot, Kerra. He’ll have a conniption.”
“Too bad.”
“Where is John Trapper?”
“I don’t know. As I said, we parted ways. I’m going to hang up now. I’m exhausted.”
“Kerra, wait! You can take sick days after tonight’s broadcast. Whatever you need to perk you up, I’ll provide. Massage. Martini. A shot of vitamin B-twelve. You name it.”
“That’s generous, but no thank you.”
“For all the reasons we’ve discussed, I implore you to reconsider.”
“Sorry, Gracie. My decision is final.”
Shifting away from her cajoling tone, she said, “Well, your decision doesn’t affect just you, you know. Have you thought of that? It’s my career, too. Think of the crew.”
“Their careers will survive, and so will yours.”
“What about yours?”
“Goodbye.”
The line went dead.
Gracie huffed out a breath and clicked off. “I kept her on for as long as I could.”
Sheriff Glenn Addison was standing over her. “Why would she want to have a lawyer?”
“Because she’s no fool,” Gracie retorted. “You, on the other hand …”
“You could have pressed her harder about Trapper’s whereabouts.”
“Isn’t that your job, sheriff? You lost track of your key witness, so you hauled me down here and coerced me into sitting all day in this swell office of yours, waiting for her to call, so you could find her.” With scorn, she added, “No wonder the FBI has taken over your investigation.”
“It’s a coordinated effort involving several agencies.”
Gracie harrumphed. “Good sound bite, and, like most sound bites, it’s ass-covering.” She enjoyed watching him turn livid.
“We appreciate your cooperation, Ms. Lambert,” he said stiffly. “You’re free to go.”
She picked up her handbag and walked toward the door. “I hated what I just did. It felt wrong and deceptive, but at least I know that Kerra is safe at home.”
“If she is.” The sheriff turned to address the phone techie sitting at a desk across the room. “Get it?”
“Got it. She’s in downtown Dallas.”
He recited the address that Gracie knew to be Kerra’s condo. She gave Glenn Addison a smug smile as she went out.
When Kerra exited her building, Trapper flashed the car’s headlights so she could see where he was parallel parked a block away. She jogged down the sidewalk and got into the passenger seat. He asked if anybody had seen her leaving her building.
“The concierge—not your concierge, a male one—was on the phone. We didn’t acknowledge each other. If he saw me, it wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. I frequently walk to work and back.”
“Go okay?” he asked.
“I told the truth.”
“That rarely gets me anywhere.” He wheeled out onto the street. “Could you tell if anyone was listening in?”
“No.”
“Doesn’t mean they weren’t. You forwarded your calls to this blocked number?”
“As instructed, and left my phone on the kitchen island.”
“Okay. Tell me everything she said.”
She recounted her conversation with Gracie, and when she finished he looked over at her. “You didn’t tell the truth about knowing where I was.”