The Trophy Hunter (22 page)

“I probably shouldn’t be dropping names.
Especially since it’s just a rumor,” Diana backpedaled. “You said
‘this time,’ like she’d been on the verge of divorce before.”

Rena took two colorful mugs from a rack on
the countertop and poured coffee into them, then carried them to
the table.

When the women were again eye-to-eye, Rena
nodded. “Many times. In fact, it was when he got sent away for
poachin’ that we first heard about you.”

“What do you mean?”

Rena smiled slowly. “Through your law
professor. Winston Bell.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Did you know Joe was Winston’s sponsor in
AA?” asked Rena.

Diana shook her head. If asked, she’d have
guessed it was the other way around. Something in her expression
put a frown on Rena’s face.

“You think you got my Joe pegged as some dumb
hick.”

Diana shook her head vehemently. “No,
I--”

“Joe’s got a degree in chemical engineering
from Oklahoma State. He didn’t just sit on his butt and watch them
oil royalties pour in.”

“That’s not what I thought,” Diana lied.

Rena cocked her head, and with a look that
said she knew better, continued, “Winston got in some trouble with
drink after his wife died. It hit him real hard. Then he joined the
program, Joe became his sponsor and they got real close.”

“I thought these things were supposed to be
confidential,” interrupted Diana. She hadn’t known about Winston’s
wife, hadn’t known he’d ever been married.

Another sideways glance from Rena. “They are.
Like my granddaughter’s rape. Trouble is they don’t stay that way.
Anyhow, Joe opened up to Winston when Darren went to jail and lost
his job. When Brandi started talkin’ about divorce, we jumped on it
like a hen on a June bug. Joe thought maybe Winston could recommend
somebody and he sure did—you. That man thinks most highly of you,
Diana. That’s why it was so hurtful when you turned us down on the
custody suit.”

Diana lowered her head and cupped the coffee
mug in her hands. “I had no idea. Winston never said anything.”

“It was a couple years back. Maybe he
forgot.”

“I don’t think so.”

Diana felt the vibration of her cell, took it
out of her pocket and opened it. “Hey,” she said to Jess.

“Something’s going on down here,” said Jess
in a low voice. “Keith just came home and he didn’t key in. School
bus dropped him off and somebody opened the door for him. I’m in
the back yard now.”

“You better get out of there,” said Diana.
“You’re trespassing. That wasn’t part of the plan. Want to make
Rogart’s day?”

“I’m gonna make his day one he’ll never
forget. Hey…”

“What? Jessie, what?”

“I hear a kid crying,” whispered Jess.

“Keith?”

“Nuh-uh. A little one. Like as in…baby.”

Chapter 38

Jess listened for a few moments to the wails
of a newborn. Then she quietly backtracked up the hill to the stand
of ponderosa pines where she’d parked her car. For the first time,
she actually regretted driving around that red beacon of a Camaro.
As she put the car in gear and steered down the incline, a plan was
stewing in her brain. She’d script it on the fly.

With the hill as a sound barrier, Jess
started her engine and drove slowly around to the front of the
Rogart house. She hesitated only a second before pulling into the
driveway. As she parked, she reached down and checked the Glock in
her ankle holster. Then she quickly rehearsed her line:
Hey
Darren, Diana told me about Pregnant Patty being safe with you. I
just wanted to congratulate you and give you my bill for time and
expenses. What? You need a payment plan? No problem.

The house was a gray ranch with an attached
oversized garage—newer and more impressive than she’d expected.
Damn dandy digs, Darren. How’d you manage that?

The tan Ford pickup that she’d come to
associate with Darren sat parked in front of the garage. Jess’s
urge to peek through a garage window was foiled. Literally.
Goddamn aluminum foil over the window. Can’t see a fucking
thing.

The house was quiet as Jess knocked on the
front door, then leaned on the bell. Finally, Keith opened the door
a crack.

“What d’ you want?” he asked.

“You must be Keith. I’m Jess, a friend of
your dad. Is he home?”

Keith opened the door the width of the
security chain and frowned at her. “I don’t know you,” he said.
“I’m not allowed to open the door when I don’t know you.”

“I take it your dad is not at home.” Jess
smiled at the boy. “Can you tell me when he’ll be back?”

Suddenly a teenage girl appeared behind
Keith, then pulled the boy behind her. “Dad’s not home, Miss
Edwards,” she said.

“You must be Lori.” Jess brightened her smile
and extended a hand through the narrow opening, hoping Lori
wouldn’t decide to slam the door on her wrist. “I’m so pleased to
meet you.”

Lori looked at Jess’s hand, but didn’t take
her up on a shake. “I know you work for my dad. I’ve seen you
before.” Lori folded her arms and took a half-step back. “But he
didn’t say anything about you coming by today.”

“He wasn’t expecting me. I just got some new
information for him. I really need to talk with him.”

Lori took hold of the door knob, letting the
chain go slack. She seemed to be weighing the legitimacy of Jess’s
visit. Then an idea lit up her face. “Why don’t you just leave the
information? I’ll give it to him.”

“I could come back.” Jess half-turned,
pretending to weigh some heavy news. “It’s just that time is
important in this…matter.”

As Jess turned back toward the door, she saw
Keith tugging on his sister’s arm. “Maybe she found Trisha,” he
said.

Found Trisha? I thought she was here. Scratch
that. If she was here, she’d be at the door finding out who I was,
not leaving it to the kids.

“Trisha’s with Dad,” said Lori between
clenched teeth. “You just forgot. Or you’re making up stories
again.”

“I am not.” Keith pulled angrily away from
his sister. “And I didn’t forget.”

Jess looked expectantly at Lori, but the
girl’s eyes were unyielding. “If you have something for Dad, you
can leave it with me,” she said.

“It’s in the car,” said Jess. “I’ll go get
it.”

What the fuck do I have in the car? She’ll
obviously read whatever I leave.

Jess had just started down the steps when the
baby tuned up again and sounded off like a couple of battling alley
cats.

“Trisha had her baby?” asked Jess, wheeling
back toward the door. “Boy or girl?” she asked, as if ready to
share the joyful news.

“Girl,” said Keith before Lori could yank him
away from the door. Then she slammed it abruptly in Jess’s face. No
amount of hammering could get her to open it again.

Chapter 39

The longer days of March stretch fingers of
light through the Ponderosa pines that grow on either side of the
road. Once he leaves the highway, the Hunter’s silver truck glides
along the well-maintained dirt road.

“Are we almost there?” Trisha whines,
spoiling his reverie.

“Almost,” he replies, the soul of patience.
Bitch couldn’t wait to get away from her kid.

He tries to concentrate on her positive
qualities. The elasticity of youth has quickly put Trisha’s body
back in shape after childbirth. Sooner than he’d expected. He won’t
have to endure much more yapping from her pretty mouth.

“I’m getting hungry,” she says.

He darts a smile in her direction. “So am
I.”

“I meant for
food.
” She nudges him in
the ribs. Sometimes she’s not completely clueless. But her areas of
expertise are limited. “You’re sure there’s a good restaurant
there?”

“The best,” he lies.

“It better not be no fast-food crap.” She
squirms in the seat like a two-year-old.

He knows by now that the rocks and trees bore
her. She grew up in the mountains, and only the promise of an
A-rated fancy restaurant tempted her to accompany him. If she knew
anything about this area, she wouldn’t have been so easily
fooled.

“I’ve gotta pee,” she complains after a
while. “Bad.”

Worse than an infant. He grinds his teeth as
he pulls over to the side of the road, then reaches across her and
opens the passenger door. “Go ahead.”

She looks at him incredulously. “In the
bushes?”

“Sorry.” He shrugs at her and smiles, hoping
she doesn’t squat in poison ivy. He wonders how long a reaction
might take to develop. Probably nothing to worry about. Her shelf
life is about up.

“It’s not funny,” she pouts. “Stop laughing
at me.”

As she stalks away into the trees, he opens
the duffle bag on the floor and removes a syringe and vial of
George’s Ketamine. A special treat for Trisha. He thumps the
syringe, ridding it of air bubbles.

He’s smiling as she returns. “Whew. That’s
better,” she says as she gets into the truck. “What’s that?” She
eyes the syringe, not a trace of suspicion in her blue eyes.

“Your favorite,” he replies. “Special K.”

“But, a shot?” She draws back, doesn’t like
needles.

“Much quicker. You’re gonna love it.”

This puts a smile on her face. She even rolls
up her sleeve for him. It’s only a matter of seconds before she
slumps against him, unconscious. He moves her to the seat behind
him in the king cab. The ensuing quiet is delicious.

He savors the remaining minutes of the drive
as enthusiasm for his current project fills him with an adrenalin
rush and fades his disappointment in the blemished redhead.

Knowing that the black and the redhead are
out there asking a bunch of questions only heightens his
excitement. They’re like beautiful birds trailing his breadcrumbs.
After all, the best part of the hunt is the stalking, the
maneuvering of the prey.

Too bad about the redhead─a waste. Not
entirely. She’ll bring the black straight to him. Then, when she’s
served her purpose:
Burn, baby, burn.
The runty Latina is
just a little piece of
ash
now. He chuckles at his own
humor. Too bad there is no one to appreciate it. Yet.

But soon he looks forward to sharing the
fruits of his project, which he’s convinced surpasses his mentor’s
major coup. He shoots a backward glance at Trisha’s motionless form
as he recalls that it took Dr. Ara a year to finish Evita’s
preservation. Too bad the doctor was so obsessed with her persona
that he never realized what he had in the
process.
A shame
the man’s been dead these many years and will never see his unknown
pupil’s work.

Well, maybe not. Unless something’s been lost
in translation, he doubts that he and his unsuspecting mentor are
of a mind. The irony makes him smile as a vision pops into his
head: Ara thrashing in his grave. Is it horror or jealously that
moves him? The Hunter laughs aloud. It doesn’t really matter; he
doesn’t believe in an afterlife.

Smugness overtakes him as he imagines his
studio full of glass cases containing examples of his special art
form. Soon the current crop will be ready to share with an elite
group. Thanks to Shane, his untraceable website is already sending
out feelers.

By the time he reaches the lodge, only a hazy
glow tops the mountains to the west. Soon darkness will enfold him
and his workshop like a familiar blanket.

As he lifts Trisha’s limp body from the truck
and walks toward the front door, he feels a welcoming presence.

I’m home, Brandi.

Chapter 40

“The kids are not going to let me inside the
house,” said Jess to Diana. “At least, Lori won’t. I think I had a
chance with Keith.”

They sat over coffee in a Starbucks in
Littleton, where they’d agreed to meet on the evening of their
respective discoveries at the Flannigan and Rogart residences.
“You’re sure Darren wasn’t really there and just didn’t want to
face you?” suggested Diana. “You said his truck was there.”

“The one we know about.” Jess took a drink,
licked cappuccino from her lips, then glanced up at Diana. “I know
you’ve been pulling for Darren to be the good guy. Sometimes it
just doesn’t work out that way.”

“Look, after what Rena Flannigan told me, I’m
ready for anything. She had no idea Cutler was involved with
Lori.”

“Hey, you didn’t─”

“Name names? Of course not. But I got a
totally different picture of Rena this time. She seemed totally
credible.”

“So Rena gets Joe off the hook, and we’re
left with Cutler and Darren. Maybe they’re the unholy twosome and
no tradeoff was involved,” mused jess.

“Rena obviously believes in her husband, but
what if her trust is misplaced?”

Jess rolled her eyes. “You just don’t give
up, do you? You think I didn’t want Dare to be Mr. Right, too?
Cutler’s a factor in this thing, all right, but his thing is young
chicks. Read my lips, Diana. We are not young chicks, in case you
haven’t looked lately.”

“Thanks a bunch,” Diana growled. “And just as
I was feeling a little better about this old bod. Hey, thirty-five
is not old. What about the old buds? Thirty-five would be young to
them.”

“Ah, the old fart factor. I really don’t
think they’re involved in this. Whatever
this
may be…” Jess
trailed off, as if in deep thought.

“What is it?” asked Diana.

“What if videos of women─porno flicks─was
what this is all about? He’d want a product for every perverse
taste, wouldn’t he?”

“
He
, meaning?” Diana beckoned a
response from Jess. “Are you conceding that Shane Cutler may be
working alone? He seduces Lori. Films their activities in the
cabin. Larry Strickland comes along. Shane kills Larry and lets him
take the blame for Lori’s rape.”