Case File: Canyon Creek, Wyoming

Chapter Fourteen

She rose beneath him, her strong fingers digging into the muscles of his back. The sound of her whispered endearments seemed as familiar as his own voice. Her body opened to him, soft and furnace hot, drawing him into a web of pure pleasure that left his body weak but his soul as strong and enduring as the Wyoming mountains. She clung to him, raining kisses over his cheeks, his jaw, down the side of his neck.

He raised his head to look at her, her name trembling on his lips.

But the face gazing back at him wasn’t Emily’s.

He woke with a small start, gazing up into darkness, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. At eye level, the pale blue light of an alarm clock displayed the time. 5:30 a.m.

Tucked into the curve of his body, Hannah’s body was soft and warm. He could feel her slow, even breathing and knew she was still asleep.

The memory of their night of passion blurred with the dream that had wakened him, until he wasn’t sure what was real and what was imagination. Was this really her body, fitted to his so perfectly it seemed they’d been chiseled from the same stone? Had their bodies found, instinctively, that perfect rhythm that lovers knew, the ebb and flow of control and submission that usually came from years of intimacy?

Had it been Hannah’s face gazing back at him in his dream?

Carefully, he edged away from her. She stirred briefly but settled back into a deep, quiet sleep.

He rolled from the bed, grabbing his discarded boxers from the floor, and padded down the hall to the bathroom. He looked into the mirror over the sink, gazing curiously at the man who stared back at him in the glass.

He looked rested, he realized with surprise, despite the early hour and the exertions of the previous night. Stress lines that had creased his forehead had almost disappeared, only faint shadows marking the skin as a reminder of what had once been. His eyes looked clear, his gaze steady, devoid of pain for the first time in three long years.

About a year after Emily’s murder, when his self-imposed isolation had begun to make him crazy, he’d gone to Jackson for a weekend, just to be around people who didn’t know who he was or what he’d lost. It hadn’t been hard to find a woman as uninterested in happily-ever-after as he had been. Trips to Jackson had become a regular thing for him, once or twice a month. Just to take the edge off.

The other nights, the other women-all had left their mark. But always for the worse. Never the better.

He turned off the light and went out into the hallway, pausing outside the bathroom. What should he do now? Go back to the bedroom, where Hannah lay warm and naked between his sheets? Or to the kitchen, to get an early start on figuring out how to talk Hannah out of her crazy, dangerous plan?

She made the decision for him, emerging from the guest room wearing nothing but his shirt.

She gave him a tentative smile. “Good morning.”

Her hair was a dark tangle, framing her sleep-softened face. Her lips were pink and swollen from their kisses, and the skin of her throat was bright red from the rasp of his beard against her skin.

His body quickened in response, and he had nowhere to hide.

A slow, naughty smile spread over her sleepy face. She walked slowly down the hallway, her gaze locked with his. She stopped in front of him, lifting one hand to his chest.

“It’s cold out here in the hallway.” She slid her hand slowly down his belly, until her fingers tangled briefly in the waistband of his boxers, then dipped lower. “Why don’t we go back to bed?”

He couldn’t have said no if he wanted to.

THEY TOOK TURNS SHOWERING a couple of hours later, oddly hesitant to share that particular bit of intimacy. Maybe it was tacit acknowledgement, on both their parts, of how transient their intimacy really was.

Hannah went first, and by the time Riley emerged from the bathroom, dressed in clean jeans and a fresh, blue chambray shirt, she’d already brewed a pot of hot, strong coffee and was cracking eggs in a skillet on the stove.

“Two eggs or three?” she asked over her shoulder, trying not to picture the long, lean body hidden beneath the clothing. If she didn’t get her mind out of the bedroom, how was she going to pull off her part of Sheriff Tanner’s plan?

She couldn’t afford to be off her game today.

“Three.” Riley reached into the breadbox to pull out a loaf of wheat bread. “I’m making toast-want a piece?”

“Please.” She cracked two more eggs into the pan and let them cook sunny side up. “Sheriff Tanner didn’t call last night, did he? I didn’t hear the phone ring.”

“I checked while I was dressing. No messages.” He sounded relieved.

“I’m sure he’ll call soon.” She said it gently, not wanting to sound defensive. She hadn’t really expected a night of lovemaking to change Riley’s mind about the plan to lure the killer into a trap. If anything, it probably made him even more determined to keep her out of danger.

It had certainly made her think twice about risking her life. The closeness to Riley she’d felt, far beyond the passion and pleasure, had shown her that she could still open herself to the possibility of love.

At least, she could with Riley, she amended silently. There was no guarantee she’d find this feeling again with another man. What if Riley were the one for her, the man she’d thought she’d found in Craig before reality proved otherwise?

It would be just her luck, she thought bleakly, to fall for a man who’d forever be in love with his dead wife.

Her appetite drained away, although she forced herself to work her way through the eggs and toast on her plate. Across from her, Riley ate with gusto, his gaze playing lightly over her face. Whenever their eyes met, he smiled, tempting her to believe he might not be as out of reach as she thought.

Fortunately, the phone rang before breakfast was over, dragging her back to sober reality. Riley answered, his expression immediately going grim. He held out the receiver. “Jim Tanner for you.”

Hannah took the phone. “This is Hannah.”

Jim Tanner got right down to business. “I’ve arranged for McCoy Edwards from Channel Twelve to interview you for the five o’clock news. You’re to meet him at the station around 11:00 a.m. to pretape the segment. Can you be there?”

“Of course.” She glanced at Riley. He watched her with stormy-blue eyes.

“In fact, have Patterson bring you to my office by ten-thirty. That way I can deliver you to the station myself. Riley can come along if he likes, but not in any official capacity. We don’t want word getting around that you’re under the protection of a Canyon Creek policeman.”

“Will do,” she agreed, and rang off soon after.

Riley hung up the phone for her and returned to the table, dropping into the chair across from her. “So, you’re really going through with it?”

“Yes,” she answered simply.

He sighed deeply, signaling his disagreement, and proceeded to finish breakfast in silence.

RILEY’S STOMACH WAS A SERIES of knots by the time they arrived at the television studio in Jackson. Sheriff Tanner had briefed Hannah on what to say and what not to say, and now the three of them piled out of the sheriff’s Ford Bronco and entered the studio, where the television reporter, McCoy Edwards, was waiting to greet them.

Edwards was in his early fifties, with sharp, green eyes and thick, slicked-back dark hair edged with silver. He greeted the sheriff as if they were old friends, a feeling the sheriff clearly didn’t share, and then pulled Hannah aside with a gentle tug once the introductions were over.

Riley watched them go, keeping his eye on Edwards as he led Hannah to a pair of chairs in front of a textured gray wall of a news set and settled her in with care. Riley could hear the murmur of their low conversation but couldn’t make out any words. He turned to Tanner. “Are you sure you can trust him?”

“We need to get the story out to make this work. Edwards is the guy who can make it happen.”

Not exactly the answer he’d hoped for, Riley thought, his gaze finding Hannah again. She looked in his direction, a tentative half-smile on her face. He knew she couldn’t see much past the lights shining on her, but he smiled his encouragement anyway, even though his gut felt twisted inside-out.

Once they settled down to the interview, Riley could hear their words more clearly. To his credit, Edwards asked smart questions, and his follow-ups suggested he’d done his homework beyond reading Mark Archibald’s article in the Jackson paper.

Finally, he got to the question Riley knew Hannah had been waiting for. “Do you think you’ll ever remember everything about the event?”

“I don’t know. But I’m going to see a doctor at Jackson Memorial tomorrow morning. She’s a certified therapeutic hypnotist. I’m hoping we can work through some of the memory blocks so I can help the police even more.”

Riley’s heart clenched. With that one answer, she’d set the trap. Nothing left to do now but see it through to the end.

He just hoped Hannah was still standing when the smoke finally cleared.

“YOU STILL THINK I’M MAKING a mistake.” Hannah stirred in Riley’s arms, turning to face him. She couldn’t see more than the shadowy outline of his face in the darkened bedroom, but she felt the tension build in his body at her words.

“I don’t think it was a safe choice,” he answered.

Such a careful response, she thought with as much affection as frustration. “I know it’s not the safe choice. That doesn’t mean it’s not the right one.”

His big hand found her face in the dark, his fingers tangling in her hair as he gave her a soft, slightly clumsy caress. “Depends on who you ask.”

She twined her fingers with his and leaned in to kiss him. His mouth was hot and soft beneath hers, and the low simmer of heat in her belly flickered into flame. “I have to do this,” she breathed against his lips.

“If you’re doing it for me-”

“I told you already, it’s as much for me as for you.” She lay back against the pillow, closing her eyes.

“What if nothing happens?” he asked quietly. “What if he doesn’t take the bait?”

Pain nipped at her heart. “Then I go home as planned.”

“And I keep looking.” He rolled on to his back until they lay side by side, no longer touching.

In the morning, Hannah thought, I’ll pack my bags so I’ll be ready to catch the afternoon flight out of Jackson Hole. I’ll be home tomorrow night, back in my little house by the lake with my crazy, enormous family surrounding me.

But where would Riley be?

“If the plan works, and we catch him-what then?” she asked aloud. “What will you do?”

He didn’t answer right away, though she could almost hear him thinking. After a moment, the bed shook as he gave a small shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought that far ahead.”

She slipped her hand into his. “I hope you have to start thinking about it.”

His fingers curled around hers, and she smiled sadly in the dark.

FROM HIS POSITION NEAR the front entrance, he spotted Sheriff Jim Tanner entering the hospital first. The clock on the wall over the information desk read 10:49 a.m.

Right on time. He’d checked the shrink’s schedule earlier that morning, before she arrived, and found Hannah Cooper’s name pencilled in at eleven.

Dressed in jeans and a denim jacket, the Teton County Sheriff was indistinguishable from the other visitors milling about the hospital lobby. Most people there probably didn’t realize he was the sheriff.

But I’m not most people, he thought with a grim smile. Ever since the newscast the night before, he’d been expecting something just like this to happen.

As if he was stupid enough to fall for so obvious a set-up.

He could imagine the sheriff’s reasoning. He’s escalating. Time is running out to get to her. He’ll be desperate enough to take a big risk. All that psychobabble cops pulled out of their backsides when they didn’t know what would happen next.

He’d applied to the FBI a while back. He knew all about that sort of thinking, the tricks the G-Man types pulled to make people think they were smarter than they really were.

But they hadn’t been smart enough to hire him, had they?

Movement to his right caught his eye. His heartbeat kicked up a notch. There she was, as expected, walking slowly toward the entrance. A few feet in front of the glass doors, she hesitated, just a moment. A surge of pure pleasure rushed through him at the sight of her unease.

I’m in your head, aren’t I, sweet baby?

As he watched, her chin came up, her shoulders squared and she entered the hospital lobby. Her renewed resolve did nothing to dampen his enjoyment, however. He liked a challenge.

She walked past where the sheriff sat, not even giving him a glance. Heading straight to the elevators, she punched the up button.

As she disappeared inside, the new guy, Sanchez, strolled up next to him. He smiled pleasantly. “Boss sent me down here to learn the ropes, would you believe? Like I’ve never walked security before. I worked county lock-up, for God’s sake.”

So had he, though not in Teton County. He’d put in his time as a prison guard in Natrona, a few years back.

Sanchez nodded his head to the right, his meaty brow furrowed. “Hey, is that the sheriff?”

He just smiled.

“I ADMIT, THIS IS ONE OF MY stranger moments as a therapist.” Dr. Janis Templeton smiled at Hannah across her wide, oak desk. “I’ve never been part of a police sting before. I can’t decide if it’s exciting or nerve-racking.”

Hannah smiled back, though her stomach had been in knots all morning. “If it makes you feel better, neither can I.”

“How long before you know if it worked?”

“I’m supposed to stay the hour. Then I walk through the hospital alone and meet the sheriff downstairs in the lobby.” Hannah glanced at her watch. She’d been in Dr. Templeton’s office for only ten minutes. It had felt much longer.

Dr. Templeton sat back in her chair, crossing her legs. She was only a little older than Hannah, maybe in her early thirties. She was pretty in a natural sort of way, with minimal makeup and a short, unfussy hairstyle that suited her. Her suit was simple but well cut, showing off her slim swimmer’s build. Hannah wondered if she had much chance to swim in a place like Jackson, Wyoming.

“I suppose while we’re here, it wouldn’t hurt to talk to you a bit about your memory loss. Has anything come back at all?” Dr. Templeton asked.

“A few things. I don’t know what I’m at liberty to tell you, though.”

Dr. Templeton nodded. “Of course. I was just wondering if you’d seriously considered hypnosis to recover some of the missing pieces.”

“Not really.” Hannah gave her an apologetic look. “One of my brothers is a prosecutor, and he’s not a big fan of hypnotherapy as a means of recovering repressed memories.”

“He’s thinking as a litigator-what can be used in court. I’m talking about a relaxation technique to let your mind do its job without any interference.” Dr. Templeton picked up a pencil on her desk and ran it between her slim fingers. “You clearly want to remember more or you wouldn’t be here risking your safety. Maybe you should consider contacting a hypnotherapist when you get back home.”

“I’ll think about it,” Hannah said, although she wasn’t comfortable with the idea.

“Meanwhile, we might as well enjoy the next twenty minutes,” Dr. Templeton said with a smile. “Why don’t you tell me more about yourself?”

“DO WE HAVE A MASTER LIST of the personnel on duty this morning?” Riley asked Jim Tanner as they settled into chairs in the hospital lobby. Joe Garrison sat nearby, within earshot.

“The hospital administrator sent it by fax this morning.” Tanner opened his briefcase and pulled out a printed spreadsheet. “Since the five o’clock news aired, seven employees called in sick. Two nurse’s aides, one orderly, a cafeteria worker, a doctor and two nurses.”

“Nobody in security?” Joe asked.

“Everybody reported as scheduled.” Tanner passed a sheet of paper to Riley. “I typed their names up for you, since I know you think security is the weak link.”

Riley scanned the list of names. “This is a new one,” he said, pointing out one of the names near the bottom.

“Yeah, Mike Sanchez. He’s a retired county-jail guard. He wasn’t ready to be put out to pasture, so I vouched for him here at the hospital.” Tanner raised his eyes and gave the lobby a quick scan. “He’s a little on the husky side these days. Doesn’t fit your girl’s description.”

My girl, Riley thought with a pang. They’d certainly spent the last two nights wrapped up in each other like lovers.

He glanced at his watch. “It’s nearly noon. She’ll be coming down any minute.” Every muscle in his body felt like a rubber band stretched taut, ready to snap. He forced himself to breathe slowly and evenly, trying to regain control. The Ruger tucked into the holster hidden beneath his leather jacket felt heavy against his hip.

He knew there were two undercover Teton County deputies on the third floor, where the psychiatrist’s office was located. One of them had been assigned to follow Hannah into the elevator for the ride down to the lobby. He, Joe and Jim Tanner were in charge of getting her safely out of the lobby.

He should be hoping for the killer to make a move. With so many officers on the lookout, the guy would be a sitting duck.

But Riley couldn’t wish Hannah danger. He’d rather spend the rest of his life chasing the bastard.

With a soft ding, the nearest elevator opened and Hannah emerged. A moment later, the sandy-haired undercover deputy came out behind her. The deputy locked gazes with the sheriff and gave a slight shake of his head.

The plan had failed.

Hannah walked up to where they sat, slumping into the empty seat by Riley. “No luck, it seems.”

Riley slid his arm around the back of her chair. “Depends on who you’re asking,” he murmured.

The look she gave him was a blend of disappointment and affection. “So, I guess the next stop is the airport.”

His heart sank. They’d packed her bags and put them in the truck before leaving the house that morning. Her flight left the Jackson Hole airport around three, so there’d be no time to return to the house.

This was it. His last hours with her.

Sheriff Tanner stood up, cuing them to do the same. Riley settled his hand at the small of Hannah’s back and walked out with her as she followed Tanner and Joe outside to the parking lot. He stayed alert crossing the lot to their vehicles, in case their unidentified suspect decided to make one last play to take Hannah down.

But the walk was uneventful.

At the truck, Tanner turned to Hannah, holding out his hand. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Cooper. You have a safe trip home, and I’ll be in touch if anything comes up on the case.” He nodded to Riley and Joe and headed for his Bronco parked a few slots over.

Hannah turned to Joe. “Thank you for all your help, Joe. And please tell Jane again how much I appreciated her help when I arrived. She promised to e-mail me when the baby gets here. You make sure she does, okay?”

“I’ll do that. Have a safe flight.” Joe gave her a quick hug and met Riley’s gaze over her shoulder, a thousand questions in his eyes.

Questions Riley couldn’t have answered if he wanted to.

After Joe left, Hannah turned to look at Riley, her expression as bleak as a Wyoming winter. “We’d better hit the road. Jane said it’s a bit of a drive to the airport.”

He helped her into the truck cab and went around to the driver’s side. “It’s a little ways,” he agreed, “but we’ll have a good view of the mountains.”

She buckled herself in. “I’m sorry the plan didn’t work.”

“I’m not,” he said, and meant it.

She turned her head and gazed at him with moist eyes. “I just wanted this to be over for you. It doesn’t feel right to be going home and leaving you here still searching for answers.”

Then stay, he thought. But he couldn’t say the words aloud. What he could offer her, at best, was half a man, and she deserved so much more than that.

They stopped for burgers on the trip to the airport, eating in silence, each knowing that everything that could be said between them already had. They didn’t speak again until he parked in the short-term parking at the airport and carried her luggage for her to the check-in area.

She turned to look at him, her green eyes dark with sadness. “I won’t make you go through security just to see me off. It’ll just make me all weepy and stuffed up for the flight, and who needs that at thirty-thousand feet, right?” She managed a watery grin.

He cradled her face between his hands. “You have my phone number. Call when you get home so I know you got there safely.”

She nodded, still smiling through her tears.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to contact the local authorities to give you some protection?”

“My brother’s a deputy. Two of my other brothers are auxiliary deputies. I have a rifle of my own. I’ll be fine. Besides, he’s not likely to follow me all the way back to Alabama, is he?”

Tamping down his fears and regrets, he brushed his lips to hers, not daring anything more, and then crushed her against him, holding her tightly. “Thank you for everything,” he murmured into her ear.

He let her go and stepped back, his heartbeat playing a slow dirge against his ribcage. He wanted to say more, to explain to her how much he regretted seeing her go, but he’d long ago learned the difference between what he wanted and what had to be. So he gave her a quick smile that he hoped conveyed how much he was going to miss her and turned toward the exit.

Reaching the door, he looked back one more time to find her standing where he’d left her, her heart in her eyes.

Mustering all the strength he had, he turned and walked out the door.