Midnight Fear

by Leslie Tentler

  “She’s worse sometimes?” he asked.

  “She was talking today. Sometimes she doesn’t respond at all. She just stares right through you like she’s a million miles away.”

  “Does she ever remember who you are?”

  Caitlyn shook her head. “No.”

  He stopped walking. Reid touched her arm through the sling. “I’m sorry, Caitlyn. I know I had a hand in what happened to her.”

  She said with honesty, “You’re not to blame. You were doing your job.”

  The afternoon wind was brisk, and Caitlyn shivered a little. Reid took off his leather jacket and placed it around her shoulders. The heat from his body was still inside the garment, and she allowed herself to take comfort in its warmth. The visits with her mother always left her feeling blue. She stared out over the facility’s grounds, focusing on the rustle of leaves in the fall wind and the slightly overcast afternoon sky.

  “How are you feeling?” Reid asked, apparently attuned to her mood.

  “Sore. My head still hurts a little.”

  Caitlyn knew the hospital security tape hadn’t been able to reveal much about her attacker—at least no more than she’d been able to make out herself in the darkness. He was still a faceless but menacing threat. It had all happened so fast and she had done everything wrong. She hadn’t fought back well enough, hadn’t made a grab to unmask him.

  She was lucky to be alive.

  “Are you taking me back to my car?” Caitlyn asked as Reid helped her into his SUV—an awkward process due to her injured hand. He had driven her to the Vinings Care Facility to visit her mother, so her car remained in the parking garage at the medical center. Her stomach knotted at the thought of returning to the place where the attack had occurred.

  “Actually, we’re going to my apartment.”

  The announcement was not entirely unexpected. Reid had made it clear he didn’t think she should return home until he had some kind of security worked out.

  “What am I going to do? Spend the night there?”

  “One night. Maybe two. And it’s not the first time we’ve slept under the same roof.”

  “I could get a hotel room.”

  He peered at her. “You’re not in great shape, Caitlyn. I’m still trying to figure out how you coerced the doctor into signing your discharge papers so soon. I doubt you can even drive a car right now with your hand, not to mention dress or bathe yourself.”

  As he reached across her lap, pulling the shoulder belt across her chest and fastening it, he was undeniably close. Reid smelled clean, like a masculine soap, and Caitlyn was aware of her own rumpled appearance. He straightened, standing outside the car with his right hand on the SUV’s roof.

  “I’d go back with you to Middleburg tonight, but I have firearms recertification tomorrow. It makes more sense for you to stay with me instead of the other way around.”

  Caitlyn remained silent, unable to find a point for argument. Manny wasn’t even at the Rambling Rose, since she had insisted he take the week to go visit his daughter, Maria. Other than the day workers, she would be completely alone. She could call the Treadwells, but after the strange incident with Rob in the hallway outside her bedroom, she wasn’t sure that she would feel comfortable staying in their home. She had seen Rob’s number come up, three times on her cell phone since then, although he had failed to leave any message when she hadn’t answered. She wondered again if she had misconstrued his overture. Maybe he was just genuinely trying to be helpful, and he’d suggested calling his cell instead of the house so as to not worry Sophie with all the things going on. Caitlyn knew how high-strung Sophie could be.

  She chewed her lip thoughtfully as Reid closed her door. I’ll only stay today and tonight, she conceded silently. Manny’s out of town and I need to get back to the stables. Once they reached Reid’s apartment, she would call out there and make sure things were running okay with just the therapy instructors and stable hands.

  “I’m going to need a change of clothes,” she said as Reid got into the driver’s side.

  He started the engine. “We’ll stop at the mall.”

  What the hell had happened to her?

  Hal Feingold hunkered in his new Lexus coupe, his eyes on the SUV that had just pulled away from the curb. He’d been sitting across the street from the adult care facility as Reid Novak escorted Caitlyn Cahill along the sidewalk. The FBI agent had taken every excuse he could to touch her, Hal noted cynically. Her arm had been in a sling and even from a distance he could see the bruise shadowing her right temple.

  Was it a car accident? Something else? Activating his digital recorder, he spoke into it, preparing a note for his assistant. “Run a check to see if Caitlyn Cahill comes up in any police reports over the past forty-eight hours.”

  Tossing the recorder onto a copy of the Washington Post that lay on the passenger seat, he drummed his pudgy fingers on the car’s leather steering wheel in thought. A worker at the Vinings facility had tipped him off, letting him know Caitlyn was there visiting her mother. His intention, plain and simple, had been to ambush her outside the place and get her to agree to an interview. Even more, he wanted to gain her cooperation, win her blessing over his book. His publisher was insisting that her involvement would bring in greater sales. Hal’s mouth twisted. Apparently, what a pretty, former socialite had to say held more interest for readers than a veteran crime journalist.

  But he reminded himself that Caitlyn wasn’t just any former socialite. She’d been at the center of the Capital Killer case, her family dethroned by the revelation of her brother’s dirty little secret. In many ways, she’d been the tipping point in bringing Joshua Cahill down.

  His publisher was right, Hal admitted to himself. Her story was the one readers would want.

  But his plans had been bushwhacked by Novak’s unanticipated presence. The way he’d helped her into his car, carefully buckling her seat belt for her—well, it had been downright tender. And it suggested more than a professional acquaintance. Hal remembered his recent confrontation with Novak in the bar.

  The plot thickens, he thought with a contemplative grunt. His curiosity was piqued. He pondered again how Caitlyn Cahill had ended up looking like she’d come off the losing end of a bar fight. Maybe one of her horses had thrown her, but Hal had a feeling it was something more. Was Novak with her as some sort of bodyguard? And how well did they know each other?

  His paunch pressing against the steering wheel column, Hal leaned forward to start the coupe’s engine. It purred like a cat. He’d bought the car with part of his advance on the book. The Post’s headline on the seat next to him briefly caught his attention, causing his lips to tug upward in a grin: FBI Fears D.C. May Have Capital Killer Copycat on Its Hands.

  He knew one thing—the timing couldn’t have been better.

  26

  Caitlyn held her cell phone as she sat on the couch in Reid’s apartment. She’d checked her voice mail at the stables to find several messages from the D.C. press, all requesting a statement about the emergence of a second Capital Killer. The reporters wanted a sound bite from her about someone emulating Joshua’s crimes. If they knew she had very nearly been a victim of the copycat herself, they’d no doubt be camped out at the Rambling Rose gates. Publicity like that could shut down her program, she realized. Caitlyn sighed inwardly. Even without Hal Feingold’s book, it was starting all over again.

  She looked around the small yet well-furnished apartment. At least here she had a safe haven. But Caitlyn knew she would have to go back soon. Without Manny there, the stables needed her, and she needed to put some distance between herself and Reid. Being near him like this made it too easy to depend on him—something that would only cause them both trouble and hurt.

  “How was your nap?” he called from the kitchen over a clatter of pots and pans.

  “Refreshing,” Caitlyn replied, deciding not to tell him about the messages just yet. She stood, stretching briefly to test the soreness of her muscles.
After they’d stopped at a Target so Caitlyn could purchase a few necessities, a toothbrush and underwear among them, she’d fallen asleep on the couch. She came into the kitchen, enticed by the aroma of something on the stove. Her stomach growled and she realized that she hadn’t eaten in hours.

  Reid wore faded jeans and a long-sleeved, white T-shirt. He stood at the stove, stirring a large pot with a wooden spoon.

  “Chicken chili,” he announced. “Nothing fancy, but it’s pretty good.”

  “It smells great.”

  He held the wooden spoon to his lips, gently blowing on its contents, then offered it to Caitlyn for a taste. It was reminiscent of him feeding her dessert that night at Agava.

  “Delicious,” she said around the spicy mouthful. She fanned her mouth. “And hot.”

  “It’ll be ready soon. We’re just waiting on the bread.” Reid wiped his hands on a dishtowel as his gaze traveled over her. “The sweats are a little big, but they’ll do.”

  Caitlyn wore a pair of Reid’s sweatpants and a gray sweat jacket with the University of Virginia printed across its front in bold maroon letters. The sleeves had been turned up to accommodate her smaller frame. She had managed to dress herself, although it had taken close to a half hour and Reid’s help in zipping up the jacket. She blushed, recalling that he had briefly seen her bare stomach and bra as he provided assistance.

  “Reid,” she began hesitantly. “I want to thank you for…everything. For letting me stay here tonight, and for taking me to visit Mom today.”

  He lifted a beer from the counter and took a sip. “We’re hoping to have some kind of security in place at your home soon. I’m waiting to hear.”

  Caitlyn nodded, wondering if he would be glad to have her off his hands. He looked handsome—sexy—in the comforts of his own kitchen, cooking a meal. Even with his job, it seemed odd he wasn’t in a serious relationship. For all I know, maybe he is, she thought. Maybe there was a girlfriend he had failed to mention—one who’d be unhappy about Caitlyn even being here. If that were the case, she’d be even less pleased about their heated kiss at her farm. She did her best to push away the mental image of herself in Reid’s arms. His kiss had broken through the wall she’d built around herself and the numbness she’d existed in for too long. But its aftermath had also wedged a tension between them. They had both taken a step back and realized the inappropriateness of their attraction to one another.

  Things had simply gone too far.

  Caitlyn walked to the desk where Reid apparently paid his bills and handled other housekeeping tasks. Above it, a window provided a view of the lively Adams Morgan neighborhood. Small, white lights decorated trees lining the sidewalk and an ethnic restaurant—a place cleverly and suggestively called Thai Me Up—was located across the street. Its name flashed on the glass of its storefront in neon letters. Next to it, a dark-windowed establishment appeared to be a bar. A man and woman stood to the left of the door, entangled in a heated make-out session under the shadow of the building’s awning. Caitlyn watched guiltily for several seconds before moving her gaze back to the desktop with its neat stacks of bills and mail. Reid’s cell phone lay next to a notepad bearing his handwriting.

  Dr. Isrelsen, test results.

  There was a number to call.

  Caitlyn frowned. Reid was tumor-free, he’d told her that himself. She wondered if it had simply been a follow-up visit, a final pronouncement of his good health. But physicians usually just left news like that in a voice mail message, didn’t they? It was news of the other variety they wanted to discuss in person.

  “Dinner’s ready.”

  Caitlyn turned as Reid set two earthenware bowls on the table next to a basket of bread.

  “I’d offer you a beer but with the medication you’re taking…”

  “Water’s good,” she murmured, studying his face. His even features gave no indication of anything wrong. He pulled out a chair for her and helped her settle into it with her sling.

  “How long do you have to wear that?” he asked, sitting at the other side of the table once he’d filled a glass with ice water and placed it in front of her.

  “A couple of days, to keep me from jarring it. Then I can just wear the brace the hospital gave me.” Caitlyn lifted the spoon to her mouth, grateful again the injured hand wasn’t her right one. “Regardless, it’s going to be difficult mucking out stalls for a while.”

  She chewed and swallowed. “This really is delicious.”

  “Good,” he said. “You need to eat, Caitlyn. You’ve lost weight.”

  Caitlyn gathered her courage. “Reid, are you sure you’re all right? I mean, the stress of all this must be weighing on you, too, and I know you’re recovering—”

  “I’m fine.” He moved the chili in his bowl around with his spoon. “I’m recertifying on firearms at 8:00 a.m. tomorrow. And I start back to work officially on Monday.”

  Caitlyn wanted to ask about the note she had seen but didn’t want him to think she’d been snooping. She let the matter drop for now.

  They were clearing away the dishes when a knock sounded at the door.

  “Are you expecting anyone?” Caitlyn asked.

  “No. Wait here.” Moving to the desk, Reid extracted a gun box from one of the lower drawers. He removed his firearm and then peered carefully between the window blinds. Caitlyn saw his shoulders visibly relax.

  “Who is it?”

  “My sister.” He opened the door and an attractive woman with dark hair the same color and texture as Reid’s bustled inside, bringing in with her the noise from the busy street below.

  “Megan. What are you doing here?”

  “Nice greeting,” she said, eyeing the gun in his hand with an arched eyebrow. “Cooper and the kids are in the car. We’re going to that Mexican restaurant the girls like, the one with the mariachi band? I thought you might want to join us.”

  “Why didn’t you call?”

  “I did and got your voice mail. Maybe you should try answering once in—” She stopped, spotting Caitlyn who stood behind the island that separated the kitchen from the living area. “Oh…you’ve got company.”

  Reid scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Megan, this is Caitlyn Cahill.”

  “I know who she is.” Although she wasn’t rude, her voice held a distinct coolness. Not that Caitlyn could blame her, not after what her father had done to Reid in order to waylay the investigation into Joshua. Caitlyn detected an instant protectiveness in Megan’s eyes.

  “Hello,” Caitlyn said quietly. She walked closer, joining them.

  “We just ate, actually.” Reid laid the gun on the desk and indicated the kitchen where dishes were still being rinsed and placed in the dishwasher.

  “God. What happened to you?” Megan’s gaze swept over Caitlyn’s sling and the ugly bruise on her right temple. Caitlyn looked at Reid, who rubbed his forehead with the index finger of his right hand.

  “Megan…”

  “I was attacked in a parking garage two mornings ago,” Caitlyn answered truthfully. “I just got out of the hospital.”

  Megan turned to Reid. “This is tied to the copycat, isn’t it? It’s been all over the news, which is exactly why I came over here.”

  “And the truth comes out.” Reid released an exasperated breath. “Now it makes sense why you drove all the way from Silver Spring on a Wednesday night for fish tacos. You were checking up on me.”

  “Don’t you think someone should?” She lowered her voice, although Caitlyn could still hear her clearly. “That case nearly destroyed you, and it’s all coming back again. Dad said he left you a message, too.”

  “Give me a break, Megan. Dad understands the job. You should, too.”

  Caitlyn bit her lip in silence. She could tell Reid was irritated with his sister, but what she also saw was a close, caring sibling relationship, one that made her yearn for a normal family.

  Reid placed his hands on his sister’s shoulders, gently turning her around and guiding her tow
ard the door. “Go have dinner. Tell the girls I said hello. Cooper, too.”

  His cell phone rang. He walked over to check its screen. “It’s Mitch. I need to take this. Good night, Megan.”

  He went into the bedroom, leaving Caitlyn and Megan alone. Reid’s sister remained at the door, her hand on the knob, although she hadn’t yet opened it. Caitlyn didn’t look away from her evaluating gaze.

  “The media doesn’t know about the attack on me,” Caitlyn said hesitantly, breaking the tense silence. “Reid…the FBI…they’re hoping to keep it out of the news.”

  “They’re protecting you. Don’t you find that a little ironic?”

  Caitlyn’s reply was soft. “I do.”

  The two women continued staring at each other until Reid emerged from the bedroom. He picked up his jacket from the arm of the couch. “Megan, what are the chances of you, Cooper and the girls staying here for about forty-five minutes? I need to take care of something—”

  “That’s not necessary,” Caitlyn interrupted. “I’m perfectly fine by myself.”

  “Megan?” Reid asked again. He’d moved to the security box to place his weapon inside it, then locked it and returned it to the drawer. “If you guys can’t wait for dinner, there’s about a half ton of chicken chili leftovers in the fridge.”

  Megan sighed and pulled her cell phone from her purse. “I’ll tell Cooper to look for a parking spot.”

  “Tell him he can have mine.” His eyes met Caitlyn’s briefly, and then he disappeared through the door.

  Where was he going? Caitlyn carefully shifted her hand in the sling and wondered how she would get through the next forty-five minutes.

  “Reid’s taken a personal interest in you,” Megan acknowledged, her gray eyes narrowing fractionally. Caitlyn had seen Reid use that same tactic before to express his disbelief over something. The family resemblance between them was remarkable.