Hunted in Conard County

by Rachel Lee

  He saw nothing to alarm him as he rode past the park. The operation seemed to be winding down. Fewer cops. Maybe later he’d be able to ride down the paths and get another look at where he’d done it.

  But he mustn’t slow down, he reminded himself. A glance or two, no more.

  He looked toward the street and saw a sheriff’s SUV drive by. What the hell was that teacher doing inside it, that new one from the college?

  Crap. He’d wondered when he’d seen her hanging with that old crone, Edith Jasper. Did she have something to do with this? Some role?

  He needed to find out. He needed to know where all the pieces were in case he had to do something.

  Like playing chess, he told himself. Move pieces on the board, find a way to neutralize threats.

  He was a decent chess player. He’d keep outsmarting them all.

  * * *

  Sarah was still sitting in May’s hospital room, looking weary.

  “You stayed all night? You should have called me, Sarah.”

  “I’ve pulled all-nighters before,” Sarah answered. “May is starting to wake some, for longer periods. She hasn’t said anything except to ask about her parents. I told her they were caught in a snowstorm. She fell asleep again so fast I’m not even sure that registered.”

  “Thanks so much for everything.”

  Sarah smiled wanly. “At least you look better. Anyway, it got me out of patrol, so I’m not complaining. We might have to work out some shifts, somehow. Gage said you were worried about the nights.”

  “Yeah, I am. The dark may be too much for her to handle for a while.”

  “Well, if someone’s there, she’ll probably be able to sleep. After a few days, at any rate. We’ll find a way.”

  Then Kerri was alone with May again. At least Deputy Beauregard had been in favor of stopping at Maude’s for her to get a large latte. She imagined she’d be wanting them all day long, and no way to get one.

  She resumed her post near the bed, waiting for May to wake enough to talk. Nurses came and went, checking on her, but none of that disturbed her.

  She was hiding, Kerri thought. She’d done a bit of that herself, making use of the post-op morphine to stay drowsy and slip away. There were times when a person just needed to escape reality and was reluctant to return to it again.

  Around noon, however, a staff member appeared carrying a tray of what appeared to be soft foods for May. She was shortly followed by a nurse who gently woke her.

  “Ms. Broadwyn. Ms. Broadwyn, you need to wake up and eat. If you can’t, the doctor will reduce your pain medication. Would you like me to raise the head of your bed for you?”

  A groan answered her, but May’s eyes opened. “I don’t know,” she said, her words slurring a bit.

  “I know you’d like to sleep,” the nurse continued. “I know it hurts to move, but it’s not good for you to hold still for so long. Like it or not, you have to at least sit up.”

  May winced as the woman raised the head of her bed and Kerri winced right along with her. She had no idea of the extent of May’s injuries, but she remembered how badly her own head had ached and burned, and how a change of position could cause her brain to pound.

  The woman smiled and put the tray table in front of May so she could easily reach it. “Your friend here will help, I’m sure.”

  “Friend?”

  For the first time May seemed to see Kerri. Kerri had discarded her jacket so her badge was plainly visible. Snowy was visible, too, because he sat up giving the dog version of a smile.

  “A dog? Isn’t this a hospital?”

  “He’s my service dog. Does he bother you?” What she would do if May had an aversion to dogs, she couldn’t imagine. Clearly she’d be unable to stay and someone else would have to take the job. The thought made her heart sink. She wanted to do this.

  “No. He doesn’t bother me.” She looked at the tray in front of her. “I don’t want to eat.”

  “The morphine they have you on can depress the appetite. Are you sure there’s nothing there that you couldn’t even take a bite of?”

  After a minute or so of staring at the food, May raised an arm, wincing, and took the bowl of red gelatin. “I hope it’s not cherry,” she said. Then she lifted a spoon, wincing again.

  “God, what did that freak do to me?”

  “You’ll have to ask your doctor that. Because I don’t have the details.”

  May sighed and managed to get a spoonful into her mouth. “Raspberry, thank goodness.” Her eyes were growing clearer and her gaze settled on Kerri. “Why are you here? You think he might come after me again?”

  “No, we don’t expect that. I’m here to give you whatever support you need, and to be someone you can talk to.”

  “I can talk to my mother when she gets here.”

  “Sure. All the details?”

  At that May stopped moving for a few seconds. “Maybe not,” she said finally. The gelatin seemed to have wakened her appetite because she next dived into a fruit-and-syrup-covered cake. “The calories,” she muttered.

  “You need them right now, so enjoy them.”

  After a few more mouthfuls, May reached for the carton of milk. “Can you help?”

  “Sure.” Kerri turned the glass upright, opened the container and poured half of it into the glass. Then she opened the bendy straw, put it in the glass and passed it to May.

  “Okay,” May said when she finished the milk. “You’re not here to protect me so are you my watchdog?”

  “I doubt you need one right now,” Kerri said drily. “No, I’m here to keep you company among other things. I’ve worked with quite a few women who had experiences similar to yours. Guess what, I can be sympathetic, insofar as possible. And I’m also here in case you remember something that would be useful to catching this monster.”

  May nodded slightly. “But I don’t want to remember.”

  “I’m sure, but it’s been my experience that details will pop up, anyway, at any time. You can tell me. Honestly, you can tell me anything about this.”

  May’s attention drifted to Snowy. “Why do you have a service dog?”

  Kerri went through the explanation once again. Oddly, repetition didn’t seem to be making it easier.

  “You were shot?” May’s eyes grew wider. “Oh, man.”

  Kerri couldn’t shrug it off, so she simply nodded.

  “And now you’re disabled.”

  “Yes.”

  “Man, that stinks.” Then May pushed weakly at the table. Kerri obligingly moved it to one side.

  “Better?”

  “Thanks.” But May’s eyelids were growing heavy again, and soon she fell back to sleep. Kerri wondered if she should lower the head of the bed, then decided against it. She didn’t want to disturb the sleeping woman.

  Her stomach growled. While May was sleeping she ought to go to the hospital cafeteria and take Snowy outside to do his business. Poor dog. Maybe she’d buy him a burger.

  She paused just long enough to let staff know where she was going. Snowy pranced with delight to be moving again. He also wolfed down the burger once they were outside.

  My kingdom for a latte, she thought when at last they headed back to May’s room.

  May was awake, and the instant she saw Kerri, she said, “I thought you’d left me alone.”

  “I just had to get something to eat for me and Snowy.”

  May sighed. “Okay. I’m not being rational. There are lots of people here. But I don’t want to be alone.”

  And thus, thought Kerri, began the real fallout. Not the physical wounds, which were bad enough, but the emotional ones.

  May would never again be the same.

  * * *

  Late afternoon, May’s family arrived carrying flowers and apologizing for the snowstorm, as if they could ha
ve prevented it. The visit quickly dissolved into tears and gentle hugs between parents and daughter. When at last they calmed down a bit, May’s mother, on hearing why Kerri was here, thanked her.

  Then she said, “You must need some time for yourself. We’ll sit here with May.”

  Kerri paused long enough to look May in the eye. “Anything you remember,” she reminded her. “Day or night. The sheriff’s switchboard will connect you to me.”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  Kerri hoped she would keep that promise in the coming days. Information was best fresh, but there was no way she could interfere with the family visit. It was too important to May.

  She stopped in to see how the other victim was doing. She couldn’t be given a lot of detail, and besides, she was sure the techs had already learned what they could about the condition of Sandra Carney.

  The nurse shook her head. “She’s still working her way out of the coma, and she’s pretty much incoherent. Try again tomorrow but she’s had a severe concussion.”

  And probably didn’t remember much, if anything, that led up to that blow to her head. Kerri still wasn’t sure how much she didn’t remember about the events leading up to her shooting.

  * * *

  Stu had been avoiding Kerri for the last three days, primarily because he had the sense that she wasn’t happy with the idea of being an item in the public mind. He didn’t care one way or the other because he’d learned how gossip worked around here, and how fast it could just die down as something new came up. What’s more, being an item was hardly a malicious thing.

  But he did notice something important, and soon other deputies were talking about it. Women were staying off the streets as much as possible. The vibrancy of this town had died down. He wondered how many shotguns were ready in those houses. A dangerous number, he was sure, especially if it was a woman alone, however temporarily.

  So far Sandra Carney was hardly talking. May’s family was getting ready to return to Missoula. He wondered how that was making May feel. Maybe they’d offered to take her with them, and she’d refused. At this point he had no idea.

  He thought of Kerri again and realized he was missing her. Given the distance she had tried to maintain between them, he told himself to forget it.

  Only forgetting wasn’t working very well, not with anything. There was a rapist prowling these streets, looking for his next victim. The feeling of a threat just beyond the edge of his knowledge was one he was too familiar with from war. Now here it was again.

  And Kerri was hanging out at the empty end of an apartment building. He didn’t trust the dog to protect her. Snowy was a service animal, probably chosen in part because he wasn’t aggressive. What she needed was a Doberman or rottweiler. Trained by Cadell Marcus.

  Yeah, she needed Snowy, but not for protection. Not against physical threats.

  “Ah, hell,” he said out loud.

  Then the dispatcher called. “Four ninety-two needs a ride home from the hospital.”

  He answered immediately. “Seven sixty-five. I’ve got it, Velma.”

  “Should have known it would be you, Stu.”

  “I just happen to be nearby.”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  Dang that woman. She acted as if she were everyone’s mother and had a right to comment on nonpolice matters. Nobody objected, however. Velma had been part of the scenery in all their lives.

  He pulled up in front of the main entrance and Kerri and her dog emerged almost immediately, bundled up against the increasing chill in the weather. He turned up the heater a notch for her benefit. Adjusting would take some time.

  “Hey,” he said as she allowed Snowy to climb in first, then slipped into the passenger seat. “How’s it going?”

  “Nowhere,” she answered bluntly. “Can I stop to pick up something for dinner? The hospital cafeteria isn’t bad, but the selection is limited and I’m tired of it.”

  “Sure,” he said as he put the car in Drive. “What are you in the mood for? If you’re really desperate there’s a pizza chain at the outskirts. If you like soda cracker crust, that is. I swear yeast has never come close to it.”

  She laughed. “No thanks.”

  She looked tired, he thought. Very. “What are you hungry for? Given the limitations of the local menus, that is. I hope that Tex-Mex place opens soon.” He glanced at his dashboard computer and communications console. An upgrade through state funding a few years back, he’d heard. Maybe overkill for this area, but useful.

  “I’m afraid the bakery is closed for the day. I need to get you there for lunch sometime. Sandwiches and a soup of the day that you can die for.”

  “Sounds good and you’re making me even more hungry.” She shook her head a little. “I’m feeling useless again. May has her family right now, so I’m kind of superfluous. She agreed to call if she remembers anything. Oh, well, the family is leaving in the morning and I guess she’s going to stay here. Gutsy woman.”

  “I’d have guessed,” he remarked.

  “And Sandra Carney is nowhere near ready to talk.”

  Stu glanced over in time to see her bite her lip. “The concussion?”

  “Really bad. I’d be surprised if she remembers much at all, when and if she recovers.”

  “Yeah. That may wind up being a blessing for her.”

  “I doubt it. She’ll always wonder, and the fears will sprout from what others say. But at least forgetting the violence would be good.”

  They were almost into town and she evidently made up her mind. “Maude’s,” she said.

  He smiled. “Just what I’m in the mood for.”

  He felt her look at him.

  “You don’t have to eat just because I want to pick up something.”

  “I’m famished, too. Collision out on the state highway at five this morning. This is my first break. I was headed back in when I got the call that you needed a ride.”

  “You shouldn’t have stopped, Stu. I could have waited.”

  “I was practically here.” And she was expressing her wish for distance between them. At least that’s what he read. He could always be wrong, but this time he doubted it. The feeling caused an unusual ache in him, one that went beyond the increasing desire for her that kept settling in his groin. It was getting so that at night when he closed his eyes he imagined her naked in his arms, felt her satiny skin close and warm to him. A fire waiting to turn into a conflagration.

  Dangerous. He forced his mind away.

  Instead, he wondered why she was so skittish. He knew she considered her epilepsy to be a big problem, understandably so, but it shouldn’t prevent her from forming relationships, should it?

  He pulled up to Maude’s and his stomach started growling so loudly he felt the need to apologize.

  Kerri surprised him by laughing. “Mine feels about the same. Let’s go clean out the diner.”

  “I’m all in favor.”

  Inside the only patrons were older men, and there weren’t very many of them.

  “This town is beginning to shut down,” Stu remarked quietly. “Nerves. Fear.”

  She nodded as they made their way to a table near the back, away from nearly everyone. “You can never guess how far a guy like this might go.”

  “That’s always the problem.”

  Maude arrived and slapped the menus in front of them. “Coffee, same as always?”

  “Please,” they answered in unison.

  “You catch that creep. He’s killing my business.”

  She stomped away and Kerri looked at Stu with wide eyes. “Her business?”

  “That’s Maude. Easier to talk about for her.”

  “If you say so.”

  He watched Kerri begin to study her menu, then damning anyone who might see, he reached across the table to touch her hand. Her head snapped up.


  He squeezed her fingers gently, feeling the soft skin, feeling the warmth. When he slid his hand a bit higher, he stroked the inside of her wrist lightly, watching her eyes widen, hearing her intake of breath.

  He chose a safe topic while the touch between them worked its magic. He wished he knew some damn romantic thing to say.

  She spoke, her voice a bit husky. “It must be hard for you to spend so much time at the hospital. After your own experience.”

  When she didn’t answer immediately, he risked it. “Kerri, I’d have come from the far end of the county just to pick you up.”

  She drew another deep breath, looking down at his hand but didn’t pull away from his light touch.

  She spoke again, referencing what he’d told her about being in the war. Clearly searching for safer ground. “I thought you were the one having a hard time with being in a hospital waiting. I didn’t have to wait, just survive.”

  “True.”

  Then she astonished him by turning her hand over and clasping his fingers to give him a gentle squeeze. “I hope you’re not hoping.”

  “Hoping?”

  “For a relationship between us. It has nothing to do with you, Stu. It’s all me. I’d just be a great big burden. I don’t want to be a burden to any one person. I even hate it that I need someone to drive me to the store. Why would any man want to be saddled with that?”

  Well, he didn’t think it was a saddle, but he wasn’t sure how she was reading so much into a single touch.

  Except she wasn’t wrong. He was dodging his attraction to her because he believed she didn’t want it. Now he knew why.

  And his face must have betrayed more than he ever would have guessed.

  “You wouldn’t be a problem,” he said firmly, then withdrew his hand and changed the subject, for his own comfort as much as anything. “I hope the state lab comes back with something useful soon.”

  She nodded. “What did you think of that boot print?”

  “It’s probably going to turn out to be like a million other work boots.”

  That brought a smile to her face. “So, no great Night Stalker reveal?”