His Deception

by Patricia Rosemoor

  As he closed the door, Katelyn walked straight to the window overlooking the lake and stared out at the rain.

  “I can make us breakfast,” he offered.

  “No, thanks.”

  “A sandwich? One of those meals from your freezer?”

  “Not hungry.”

  “You need to eat something.”

  She whipped around, her expression fierce. “Stop telling me what to do! You’re not in charge of me anymore!”

  That made him take a step back. “I never thought of it as being in charge of you. Your father might have hired me to protect you, but my seeing to your welfare went far beyond that when it became personal between us.”

  She gaped at him for a moment, looking as if she didn’t know how to respond. Then she said, “Well, your job is over. I guess that means you can leave now.”

  Her voice was as flat as her expression. Nothing in it to make him think she wanted him to stay. Was she dismissing him? It certainly seemed so. Thorne longed to tell her how he really felt about her, how much she had come to mean to him. How much he loved her. But under the circumstances, what good would it do, other than make things even more awkward between them?

  “All right, then. I’ll leave you be if that’s what you want.” She didn’t say anything in return. Taking that as her assent, he backed off, withdrew her cellphone from his pocket, and reinserted the battery. “Yours.” After holding it up so she could see it, he set her phone down on a side table.

  Then he turned and started to leave, still hoping that she would say something—say anything—that would stop him. Hand on the doorknob, he glanced at her, hoping her resolve had weakened. She was staring out at the rain again, her ramrod-straight back to him, as if he didn’t exist.

  She had nothing for him, then.

  Never having felt emptier, Thorne left, knowing he would never see her again.

  —

  Katelyn turned just as Thorne crossed the threshold and slammed the door shut behind him. Thunder rumbled overhead, nearly drowning out the sound of his footsteps on the stairs. He was going up to his room, undoubtedly to get his things before he walked out of her life forever.

  Split by a bolt of lightning striking somewhere on the other side of the lake, the sky lit up and sent shock waves of light into the room.

  Swallowing hard, Katelyn fought the sting in her eyes. That Thorne could leave so easily crushed her. But what had she expected? That he would suddenly want to call someplace home?

  Overwhelmed by all the unwanted attention awaiting her here, in addition to the fear that she’d experienced on the run, she’d been less than warm and welcoming to him. Not that she’d meant to push him out completely. But she had.

  And it was over….

  Now what? Could she really stay in Lake Geneva and run Lakeside like nothing had happened? Turning the guest house into a dream destination and the café into the most popular eatery in town had been her dream. She’d put everything into this business. But now she felt disconnected.

  Such horrible things had happened here….Could she ever feel the way she had a mere week ago?

  Maybe she needed to get away for a while. Take a break. See what she thought about coming back and starting over. Or maybe she needed to explore other options. Thanks to Thorne’s having pushed her to delegate some of her responsibilities, she could rely on Natalie and Tansy to run the place without her while she made up her mind.

  She wished she had told him that. Told him that, if he wanted her, they could have found a way to work something out—

  No! She wasn’t going there.

  Too late. Thorne was gone.

  She already felt empty.

  Not wanting to dwell on the loss looming before her, she aimed her thoughts toward the investigation of Sam’s murder. She still had so many questions. Had Aaron actually committed that crime? Had he really killed a man he didn’t even know? Apparently, anything was possible, considering that she hadn’t really known the man with whom she’d thought she might have a future. Why did that seem to be the theme of her love life?

  Wondering why she hadn’t gotten a call from Cole or Weaver about the investigation into Sam’s murder, she remembered that Thorne had taken the battery out of her cell so they couldn’t be tracked. Perhaps one or both of them had called with more information. Fetching the cellphone from where he’d left it, battery now in place, she turned it on. No calls. She checked her home phone and found a myriad of messages, mostly from reporters, which she quickly erased. But, indeed, Detective Cole had left a message as well, confirming what her father had told her. Nothing about Sam’s murder, however, other than they had yet to find the scene of the crime.

  Despite the rain now coming down steadily and beating against the building, she recognized Thorne’s tread as he descended the stairs from his room. The footsteps stopped before her door. Her heart thundered as she waited for his knock…but seconds later, his footsteps retreated and faded as he crossed the lobby.

  And then he was gone for good.

  Fighting tears, she turned on the television to distract herself. She might as well check out the local news and prepare herself for the next onslaught of reporters. Needing to see what the media was saying about the shooting and arrests, she tuned in a station that was showing an image of people lowering wet umbrellas as they crowded into a church.

  “Despite the rain, hundreds have shown up for the memorial service for the slain Bascom College students.”

  The shot switched to close-ups of people trying to console one another, making Katelyn’s throat tighten. Then photographs of the slain students began to flash across the screen, the reporter’s voice identifying each of them.

  “We are here to remember Jay Chandra…Susan Barr…Jori Hill and Rebecca Hill…”

  Seeing their faces made their deaths all too real for her, especially the siblings, distant cousins of Gerard Eklund.

  “Zachary Hicks…Reiner Ohlson…Nicole Dyer…”

  She stared at the last image, of a pretty young girl with spiked dark hair, smiling blue eyes, and a dimple creasing her cheek. The girl looked eerily familiar, though Katelyn couldn’t quite place her.

  The image faded to black and the scene switched to the weeping loved ones filling the church. That was too much for Katelyn to bear. She turned off the television. She needed to find work to do to keep her mind occupied with something other than the tragedy.

  Something other than Thorne.

  Dare she go out to the lobby to check in with Natalie?

  Cracking open her door, she was relieved to find the lobby empty of anyone other than her assistant manager.

  Natalie looked up from arranging some magazines on an end table. “They’re gone. It’s safe to come out now.”

  Sighing, Katelyn crossed to the desk. “I imagine the unexpected attention has been exhausting.”

  “And invigorating in a strange way. You could have told me, you know,” Natalie added, joining Katelyn at the desk. “About your father.”

  “I’ve never particularly liked being in the public eye. It just seemed more comfortable to keep my own counsel.”

  “Now that the media has hold of the information, you can’t close that door again.”

  “No, I guess not.” Undoubtedly, reporters would keep after her until the shooting became old news. “Anything else go wrong around here while I was gone?”

  “Just complaints about the rain spoiling tourists’ plans. It’ll be clear through the weekend, though.”

  A flash of lightning was followed by a long, low rumble of thunder. Rain continued to drill the building, the sound of the streaming water creating a kind of music. Lots and lots of rain.

  “Hmm, I’m wondering if we’re taking in water,” Katelyn said. “Has Radtke been around to check on the sump pump?”

  “The handyman? I don’t remember the last time I saw him.”

  “He should have been around last night to help close the café.”

  “He co
uld have been at the café, but he wasn’t here. You’d have to ask Tansy.”

  “I will. But I’ll see if I can get ahold of Radtke myself.”

  She fetchied her cell from her pocket, and the call she made immediately went to voicemail.

  “This is Katelyn Wade. I’m wondering if you’re here at Lakeside.” As he should be by now. “Please call me when you get this message.” She clicked off and told Natalie, “In the meantime, I’m going to go downstairs and have a look at the sump pump to make sure we don’t have a problem.”

  The desk phone rang. As Natalie answered it, Katelyn went straight for the basement. The staircase down was on the same wall of the building as the door to her apartment. Flicking on the lights, she carefully descended the stairs, which were solid, but steep and had no risers. Not fond of deep, dank basements in the first place, she’d more than once feared her foot was going to get caught in the open spaces between the steps. But with Radtke not to be found, she didn’t really have any choice but to check things out herself, so she steeled herself and went all the way down.

  A quick look around assured her there was no water puddling on the concrete floor, and she could hear the pump running. She crossed to the sump basin to take a closer look. A water stain around the opening indicated that there had been a problem, but it seemed that it had been repaired. Well, who knew what had been wrong with it. Whatever Radtke had done to fix it had obviously worked—one less worry for her.

  About to head back up to the lobby, she paused by the staircase when she saw light glinting off something shiny underneath it. Kneeling at the bottom, she reached between the lowest two steps. The second her fingers touched the object, she knew what she had found.

  Her pulse ticking faster, she pulled the familiar item free.

  Sam’s sunglasses!

  She instantly recognized them. How had they ended up here, behind the stairs?

  Weaver had said that Sam had taken a fall days before receiving the head injury that had killed him. He could have fallen down these stairs….

  But Sam had been here just to get these sunglasses. Why would he have been coming down to the basement in the first place?

  Or had he been? What if it hadn’t been his choice? What if someone had forced him down here?

  Could this be the crime scene Cole’s people had been trying to find?

  Who would have pushed him down these steps, and why? The current suspect, Aaron, hadn’t even known about the basement. As far as she knew, he’d never been to Lakeside before the day he’d come to see her.

  Which meant the killer was likely someone else.

  What if she and Thorne had been correct? That the person threatening her father and coming after her, killing Sam in the process, really was one of the parents of a slain student? They’d narrowed it down to Jori and Rebecca Hill’s mother or father, or to Nicole Dyer’s unnamed father.

  Which one?

  Her mind spun, taking her back to the coverage of the memorial. She’d just seen photos of all the victims. That last one, Nicole Dyer, had looked familiar. Spiked dark hair. Big blue eyes. Dimpled cheek. Now it hit her. The shooting victim very much resembled her prep cook, Sophie Miller. And the day she’d seen Radtke cornering Sophie, the girl had said Radtke thought she looked like someone….

  Nicole Dyer, the girl whose birth father hadn’t been named.

  Donald Radtke?

  She had to talk to someone about this. The first person she thought of was Thorne, of course. He’d been hired to protect her, and if the authorities had gotten it wrong when they’d assumed Aaron had tried to kill her, he’d have to come back—a thought that sped up her pulse.

  About to head up to her apartment to call him, she stopped when a creak behind her told her the door leading from the side yard had just been opened. Pulse surging, her head went light as she whipped around and faced the man who’d been intent upon killing her all along.

  —

  Okay, so he was an idiot.

  Thorne made that determination about twenty miles outside of Lake Geneva. How could he have left without at least trying to convince Katelyn that they were right for each other? What had he been thinking? He’d been trying to respect her wishes, but screw that. Now all he could hope was that it wasn’t too late to change her mind.

  His cell rang and he glanced at the screen, then tapped his Bluetooth on. “Justus. I meant to call you now that the arrests have been made.”

  “They got it wrong, Thorne. The part about who’s been after Hamilton and his daughter. Not Starkman.”

  Thorne’s gut clenched. “What the hell did you find out?”

  “We tracked down Faye Robinson, Nicole Dyer’s birth mother. She kept the father from knowing she was pregnant and disappeared when she realized he was deranged. And violent. About a year ago, she ran into him. Even though she’d given up their daughter two decades ago, she’d kept track of Nicole and had some photos of her in her purse. One was of baby Nicole; her birth date was on the back. He figured it out and got Faye to admit Nicole was his child, though she wouldn’t tell him where to find her. But he did it somehow. He must have been keeping track of her since then.”

  “Who did? Did you get a name?”

  “Donald Radtke.”

  The surly handyman? “Jesus Christ. I have to get back there! Thanks, Justus. I owe you.”

  Cursing, Thorne scored a U-turn and headed back the way he’d come. He had to talk some sense into Katelyn, get her someplace safe until this thing was finished the way it should be. On top of convincing her of how much he really cared about her.

  Katelyn was worth everything to him.

  He’d spent his whole life alone, pretty much without anyone who cared whether he lived or died. Until her. He was convinced she’d come to care about him. If she hadn’t, when she’d learned he was her secret bodyguard, she wouldn’t have been so angry. Or so prickly. Or so impossible.

  Impossible was suddenly sounding seductive to him. As he drove, he began working up several arguments to win Katelyn over. By the time he got back to Lakeside’s parking lot, he was so distracted that he almost ran into another vehicle on its way out. Pulling himself together, he gave the sedan with tinted windows a single quick glance as it turned right, heading west along the lake’s southern shore.

  At least the parking lot was now nearly empty. As he stopped in front of the guest house, Tansy popped out from behind a parked car and waved him down with a hand holding her cellphone.

  “What’s up?” He had a bad feeling as he swung open his door.

  “You didn’t see Katelyn? She was in the vehicle you almost hit. I was coming up from the café to get something from my car when I saw Donald Radtke shove her into his.”

  “Fuck!” His fault. He never should have left in the first place.

  “I’m pretty sure he was holding a gun on her,” Tansy said. “I was just about to call the police.” She held up the cellphone.

  Still in the driver’s seat, he pulled his door shut. “Go ahead and do that while I try to catch up to them.” He was already rolling when he said, “Get that information to Detective Cole.”

  He zoomed out of the lot and headed west. The other vehicle wasn’t in sight now—too big a head start. Or it could have turned off onto one of the small intersecting roads. Thinking he would check this road first, he floored his accelerator and went around a curve too fast. Just missing a delivery truck, he released his death grip on the wheel and lightened his foot. A few seconds later, he pulled into an apartment complex’s lot, where he grabbed his cellphone.

  Why hadn’t he thought of using tech in the first place?

  Assuming Katelyn had her cellphone with her…

  He selected the GPS real-time tracker app and tapped in Katelyn’s number. A flashing red pinpoint on the map that came up told him exactly where to find her.

  Then he pulled out his gun and stuck it in the waistband at his back. Once again, he vowed to do whatever it took to protect the woman he lov
ed.

  If that’s what it took to save her, he would kill the killer.

  Chapter 16

  As they whipped toward the road that would take them west around the lake, a disbelieving Katelyn struggled with the tape binding her wrists together behind her.

  “Won’t do you any good,” Radtke said. “That duct tape’s gonna hold unless you have something sharp to cut it. Which I know you don’t. So you might as well sit still.”

  “Sit still for how long?” How far from Lakeside was he planning on taking her?

  “Until it’s your time.”

  “For what?”

  He hesitated only a second before he said, “To die.”

  Her gut clenched and she had trouble taking a deep breath as they whipped along the tree-lined road. Exactly what she’d been afraid of. As far as she knew, no one had seen the man force her from the basement to the side yard and out to his car. No one was going to save her this time. She’d made sure of that by being so irritable with Thorne that he’d up and left. Now Radtke intended to kill her unless she could figure out some way to make him listen to reason.

  “Why me?” she asked.

  “Because my little girl is dead!”

  “I don’t get it, Radtke. Do you actually think you’re honoring your daughter’s memory this way?”

  “You don’t know anything about my Nicole.”

  “Then tell me about her.”

  Anything to buy herself some time. There would be no escaping from him here, what with no businesses or homes fronting on the road. No one to shout to for help. Her cellphone was in her pocket, but unless she could pull a hand free, she couldn’t get to it to call for help.

  “Nicole was pretty and sweet and as smart as they come. I know because I was watching her for months. Memorizing everything she did. Waiting for my opportunity. I would have made her love me if given the chance.”

  Given the chance…

  That meant he still hadn’t had a real relationship with her.

  Trying to appease him with some sympathy, she said, “It sounds like you were left out of the equation.”

  “Her bitch of a mother saw to that.”