Czytaj książkę: «Innocent Target»

THREE

Kitty awoke in darkness, certain that a bang had sounded outside. Reaching for her bedside lamp, she flicked the switch. Nothing. She had no idea of the time, but judging by her gritty eyes, she had been asleep for only two or three hours at most. She had taken an age to fall asleep the previous night and was exhausted, but adrenaline now flooded her tired body with energy. The power was out. Had her attacker caused it?

She pushed back the bedcovers and stood. The power in this old house had been known to fail oftentimes. Perhaps Ryan had inadvertently overloaded the circuit by plugging in one too many appliances. At least, that was what she hoped.

She reached for her robe in the moonlight, securing it tightly. She then picked up her gun from the dresser and approached her bedroom door with trepidation, hearing only the gentle swish of the trees outside.

She opened the door and stepped into the hall, to hear the slow ticking of her grandfather clock. The house was in perfect stillness, as if the furniture itself were sleeping. There was no sign of Ryan. Should she wake him? She wasn’t sure. He had taken a statement from her the previous night, but it had been a difficult conversation, with tension still strong between them.

She heard a knocking sound below, coming from the cellar. The small underground room was dark and damp, accessed via a corner in the kitchen and used only for storing some of her father’s old gardening equipment. She hadn’t thought that the one tiny window down there was capable of accommodating an intruder, but perhaps she had been wrong. Creeping down the stairs, Kitty tried to step quietly, but each tiny squeak was amplified tenfold in the silence, ramping up her heart rate.

Once she reached the hallway, she approached Ryan’s apartment door and knocked gently.

“Ryan,” she called softly. “Are you awake?”

There was no reply. But the noises from the cellar grew louder, the sounds of items being moved, scraped across the floor.

“Ryan,” she called, louder this time. “Somebody’s here.”

She tried the handle, finding the door unlocked. It opened onto his living room, dark and empty. She ventured inside, gun in hand.

“Hello?” she said, walking through his apartment and stopping at his open bedroom door. “It’s me.”

She poked her head around the door, seeing the bed crumpled and vacant. Ryan had gone. She turned to leave, fear settling deep down in the pit of her belly. Had somebody already got to him? Shadow meowed in the hallway, no doubt wondering if it was breakfast time already.

Moving back out into the house’s main hallway and into the kitchen, she steadied herself, preparing to approach the cellar door. It was open, showing a staircase that descended into the pitch-black depths, cobwebby and grimy and terrifyingly creepy.

A bright beam from a flashlight shone in the darkness, falling on her face and hurting her eyes. Footsteps sounded on the bare steps, full and weighty, so she raised her gun, holding it as stable as she could.

“Kitty!” Ryan exclaimed, switching off the flashlight and activating the overhead light. “It’s okay. I was just fixing the power. A fuse tripped during the night.”

She lowered her gun, stepping back to sit heavily on a kitchen chair. Ryan came into the kitchen, closed the door behind him and brushed himself down. Wearing track pants and a sweatshirt, he appeared younger than when he wore his uniform, his red hair tousled and endearing.

“A noise outside woke me up,” he said. “I think somebody was in the barn.”

“I heard a bang,” she said. “Maybe it was the barn door blowing closed.”

He went to the kitchen window to look out. “When I went to turn on the light in my room I realized there was no electricity. Does the power cut out here often?”

“Yes,” she said. “Did you overload the circuit perhaps?”

“Um... I plugged in my radio charger last thing at night,” he said, seemingly distracted by the view outside. “I think that might’ve been the cause.”

“What do you see?” she asked.

“Someone’s been here. It looks like white paint has been sprayed on the wall of the barn.”

She joined Ryan at the window, squinting at the decrepit old building, dilapidated and disused for years now.

“I’ll go out and take a look,” Ryan said, turning the key in the lock of the back door and sliding back the bolts he had added yesterday for extra security. “You stay here.”

Without giving her time to argue, he slipped through the door and flitted across the yard, reaching the barn in a matter of seconds. Once there, he stopped and looked up at some white markings that were too far away for her to decipher. Then he went inside the barn itself, disappearing from view.

Opening a cupboard above her head, she rooted around for her mother’s old bird-watching binoculars. Lifting them to her eyes, Kitty peered through the lenses at the barn while adjusting the focus. When the words sharpened into view, she didn’t flinch or cry out in alarm. She simply sighed sadly and bowed her head in disappointment. In white paint, somebody had scrawled the message “Leave town!” They had even added an exclamation mark for dramatic effect.

By the time Ryan reentered the kitchen, she had filled the kettle and set it to boil, placing two cups on the counter in readiness.

“Would you like herbal tea?” she asked.

Ryan appeared confused. “Don’t you want to know what I found?”

“I already know.” She pointed to the binoculars. “I saw for myself.”

“The barn padlock has been broken,” he said, bolting the kitchen door behind him. “That was probably the bang you heard. Somebody used a ladder from inside to spray paint the words up high, but there’s no sign of him now, unfortunately.”

“It’s just a stupid message,” she said with a wave of her hand. “It doesn’t matter.”

She put fruit tea bags into the cups, humming to herself, pretending that this simply wasn’t happening.

“Hey,” Ryan said, rubbing her back, right between her shoulder blades. “It’s okay to be upset by this. You don’t have to try and be strong.”

“Yes, I do, because if I crumble there’s nobody to catch me. I’m all alone.”

“I’m here,” he said, failing to understand the emotional resonance she applied to the word alone. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I’ve been thinking that your cellar would make an excellent panic room if you come under attack again. If I brick up the window, it’ll be perfect. I’ll get it set up for you if you like.”

How had it come to this? Panic rooms were seen only in movies, not in sleepy Oklahoma towns.

“I guess it can’t do any harm,” she said.

“To be on the safe side, you shouldn’t leave the house without informing me, at least until we catch this guy. I know it might sound extreme, but I’d rather I knew where you are at all times.”

She nodded, too drained of energy to argue.

“In one way, we could view this incident as a positive,” he added. “It looks like your attacker is now focusing on running you out of town instead of hurting you.”

“How do we know it’s the same person?” she said. “This could be the work of somebody else entirely.”

“It’s probably the same guy. Maybe he saw that you’re better protected now. Maybe he’s scared of getting hurt. Or maybe he grew a conscience. Whatever the reason, it looks like he’s backing off the aggressive tactics, and this has got to be good news, right?”

Kitty couldn’t bring herself to share the same level of optimism. Ryan was reading far too much into this.

“It’s a nice thought, Ryan,” she said. “But my attacker is a murderer. He already killed Molly and won’t stop until I’m dead, too.” She gripped the edge of the counter with her fingers. “And the worst part is that if I’m dead, then nobody will fight for my dad in my place, because nobody believes me, not even you.”

She felt her eyes grow sore with lack of sleep. She was so very tired of all this, of fearing for her life, of being alone in her terror day after day.

“I may not believe you, but I’m here for you,” he said, turning her around and pulling her into his arms. “I can promise you that much.”

She tried to fight the urge to give in to the comforting gesture, before succumbing and sliding her arms around his waist, resting her cheek on his chest. Ryan would never be the wholehearted supporter she wanted him to be, but she needed this affection from him so very much. The sensation of his firm arms around her torso was irresistible, providing a safe and stable place to relax and simply be.

For just a few moments, she let herself imagine that she wasn’t entirely alone.

* * *

“Okay, let’s all settle down,” Ryan called out over the heads of at least seventy people packed into the Bethesda Town Hall. “Try and talk just one at a time.”

The county sheriff rose from his chair on the stage and walked over to Ryan. Jim Wilkins was based in the main station at Lawton, rarely visiting the Bethesda satellite, so Ryan knew that the sheriff was taking this meeting seriously. He didn’t like the bad publicity.

“I knew it was a bad idea for this town meeting to go ahead,” Sheriff Wilkins said. “You should’ve refused to allow it.”

“It’s not within my authority to prevent the town from holding a meeting,” Ryan replied, as the crowd murmured among themselves. “They’re entitled to be here.”

When Shane had informed Ryan of the emergency meeting, arranged by Frank Price to discuss Kitty Linklater, Ryan guessed that it was likely to deteriorate into anger and demands for retribution. And he had been correct. After just five minutes, there had been numerous calls for Kitty to be arrested, charged and imprisoned for everything from harassment to treason. It appeared that the community was deeply divided on this issue. Everyone seemed to agree that her father was guilty, but some residents defended Kitty’s right to free speech, only to find that their pleas were often drowned out by the louder, more aggressive voices.

“I can handle it,” Ryan assured his boss, a portly man in his sixties who was looking forward to retirement. “Why don’t you take a seat with Shane?”

Then he turned to the crowd and shouted to gain their attention.

“Now listen up, everybody—I know feelings are running high. And I know you all love Molly’s family and want to protect them from any more pain, but I need to remind you that we do things kindly here in Bethesda. Remain calm when you speak and think about what you’re saying, because words can so easily turn cruel. Kitty’s already come under physical attack and we should be mindful of her safety.”

Frank was the first to stand, which came as no surprise to Ryan. The owner of the hardware store appeared to be Kitty’s most vocal critic.

“If Kitty’s gotten herself into hot water, then that’s her own stupid fault. Her latest trick is the worst yet, and we’re here to demand that something be done about it.” He raised his hands in the air as if rallying his troops. “Isn’t that right, folks?”

“Are you talking about the newspaper article?” Ryan asked. “Because Kitty has assured me it’s the last piece she’ll be writing in the paper about her father’s murder conviction.”

“No,” Frank bellowed. “I’m not talking about the article. She did something much worse than that today. She actually went to Molly’s grave, right in front of that poor child’s family. Of all the dirty, low-down things she’s done, this is the worst yet. She has no right to go there.”

The murmurs and mutterings grew louder. Ryan heard words like shameful and outrageous in the hum.

“Can you tell me what happened?” he asked.

At this point, Nancy Buttaro stood. She was a friendly woman who ran the grocery store alongside her husband, Paul.

“It’s the second anniversary of Molly’s death today and Kitty went to the graveside to lay some flowers,” Nancy said. “But Molly’s parents turned up while she was there and got all upset. They asked Kitty to leave, which she did. No harm was done.”

Ryan ran a hand down his face. Why would Kitty do such a thing? Not only had she riled up the town, but she’d failed to tell him that she was leaving the house. He’d spoken to her on the phone an hour ago and she hadn’t mentioned a thing about this.

“Who are you to judge that no harm was done, Nancy?” Frank challenged. “Mrs. Thomas was traumatized to find a Linklater at her little girl’s grave. It’s plain wrong.”

“Kitty promised me that she won’t go there again,” Nancy called back. “She came into the store right afterward and told me she regretted it. She was trying to be respectful toward Molly, but she messed up. Kitty’s a decent young woman and she deserves to be left alone.”

“She should leave Bethesda,” Carla yelled, getting to her feet. “She’s a nuisance, just like her drunken bum of a father.”

“Now that’s not fair,” Nancy said, with a firm shake of her permed hair. “You should judge Kitty on her own actions, not those of her father.”

“It sounds like you’re on her side or something,” Carla retorted. “Why don’t you shut up and sit down, Nancy?”

Nancy’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. “How dare you talk to me that way, Carla. Why can’t we just be nicer to one another? And why are we having this public meeting, anyway? Aren’t we meant to be trying to protect the Thomas family from more hurt and pain?” She looked around the room. “Us folks fighting like schoolkids sure isn’t gonna help.”

“Looks like I was right about you,” Carla yelled. “You are on her side.”

Within seconds, the meeting had descended into chaos yet again as insults and accusations flew, forcing Ryan to bang the table with his fist.

“Calm down,” he called. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

“Look what she’s doing to the community,” Frank yelled over the ruckus. “Can’t you do something about her?”

Ryan waited for the noise to die down. “I’m not sure what you expect me to do, Frank. Kitty hasn’t broken the law and she’s just trying to do what’s right for her father. And all it’s gotten her is verbal attacks and physical assault. Don’t you feel at least a little sympathy for her?”

Frank’s reply was emphatic. “No, I don’t.”

“Well, maybe you could try harder to find some compassion. She’s been through a lot.”

“Can I ask you something, sir?” Frank said, resuming his seat next to Sheila, whose eyes were downcast and submissive. “Do you think Harry Linklater is guilty?”

“Yes,” Ryan replied firmly. “Yes, I do. And in my opinion, he should never be released from prison after what he did.”

That’s when he saw her, standing at the back of the hall, shrinking into the corner, unnoticed by all except him. Kitty’s expression was one of hurt as she watched the proceedings, as she heard him say that he hoped her father would be incarcerated forever. But he had spoken the truth. He couldn’t change the way he felt, nor did he want to.

“Well, at least you’re smart enough to see that,” Frank grumbled. “But her father’s locked away where he can’t hurt anyone—Kitty’s the one hurting the town now. She’s been harassing Harvey Flynn from the Starlight Bar again today, accusing him of lying to the police and of deliberately destroying his CCTV footage from the night of the murder. Now surely that kind of pestering behavior is illegal?”

Ryan tore his gaze from Kitty and scanned the room for Harvey, whom he had met just once when doing an introductory tour of the town’s establishments. He finally found the tall bearded man standing at the side of the hall.

“Do you wish to make a complaint against Kitty, Mr. Flynn?” Ryan asked.

Harvey shook his head and held up a hand in a dismissive gesture, which clearly was not the action that some of the crowd had been hoping for.

Carla stood up again. “Harvey’s just being nice because Kitty’s a woman all on her own and he doesn’t want to see her get into any trouble.”

“Except she’s not all on her own,” Frank said with a sneer. “She’s got a man staying in the apartment.”

Ryan closed his eyes, knowing exactly where this was heading. It wasn’t that he minded the residents knowing of his living arrangements, but he wanted to tell everyone on his own terms. It didn’t take long for Frank to ruin those plans, as he turned his back on Ryan to address the crowd.

“Chief Deputy Lawrence is Kitty Linklater’s newest tenant, folks. And he’s been fixing up her house with new doors and all sorts of other things, so none of us need to feel sorry for her. She’s got herself her very own bodyguard, which is more than Molly Thomas ever had.”

Howls of protest could be heard, but Carla seemed to be particularly incensed by this piece of news. “How could you, Deputy Lawrence?” she challenged. “How could you pay rent to the daughter of a murderer?”

Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, noticing Sheriff Wilkins covering his horrified face with his hands. Meanwhile, Frank leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smile.

“Kitty’s in danger,” Ryan shouted. “She needs protection and I need a place to live, so it makes good sense for me to be there.” He caught her eye. “But I’m not supporting her campaign to free her father. I want to make that clear.”

“Shame on you,” Carla yelled, pointing a finger. “You should be putting your efforts into serving the community, not lining the pockets of Kitty Linklater.”

At this moment, Joe stood up beside his wife. “What can we do to help? If Kitty’s in danger, then who knows which one of us could be next.”

Carla rolled her eyes. Clearly, this was a bone of contention between the two of them, but Ryan was glad of the show of support toward the interests of law and order.

“You can keep your eyes and ears open,” Ryan said. “Look out for anyone acting suspiciously or asking a lot of questions about Kitty. As a community, we can keep everyone safe if we pull together.”

Despite murmurs of agreement in the crowd, Carla did not seem appeased. “If Kitty took more responsibility for her actions, then I’m sure she wouldn’t be facing any danger.” She turned to the town’s bar owner. “I hope you’ll make a complaint to the sheriff about Kitty harassing you, Harvey, because I don’t think our new chief deputy intends on doing anything about her awful behavior.”

While Harvey again made a dismissive gesture, Sheriff Wilkins stood and approached Ryan, saying quietly into his ear, “I want a word with you later about your living arrangements here in Bethesda.”

Ryan sighed. This was not going to plan at all. Then Kitty’s voice rang out across the hall, far louder than he’d thought her capable of.

“The real reason Harvey doesn’t want to make a complaint about me is because he lied in court about the night of Molly’s murder,” she said. “And he doesn’t want the police asking any awkward questions.”

She was walking down the middle aisle, between the rows of chairs, hair piled high in a messy bun, tendrils falling on her face. She had made a little more effort with her clothes that day, wearing tailored pants and a blouse.

“Perhaps now isn’t the best time to be doing this, Kitty,” Ryan said, jumping from the stage and approaching her. “Tensions are running too high.”

She ignored his advice, as he’d suspected she would.

“Your CCTV footage from that night wasn’t lost, was it, Harvey? You deliberately destroyed it.”

A hush fell as numerous people looked from Kitty to the barman and back, clearly shocked at this sudden showdown.

“That’s not true,” Harvey said. “I wish you’d drop all this nonsense, Kitty.”

She stopped in her tracks and stared him down. “There was another man who arrived at the bar just after midnight, wasn’t there? He got there soon after Molly’s death. I received a call from my newest witness today. He says he remembered something else about that night which might be relevant. He claims you let a man in the back door and there was an argument between the two of you in the corridor. You told the guys in the bar that it was an old friend looking for a place to stay. So I want to know who he was and why you didn’t tell the police about him.”

Harvey stepped forward. “I saw the article about your witness in the newspaper. I remember him coming into the bar and drinking whiskey until he passed out. He’s a drunk just like your father, nothing but a deadbeat drunk who probably can’t remember what he ate for breakfast this morning let alone what he saw and heard a couple of years ago.”

Kitty cheeks reddened. “Having an alcohol addiction doesn’t make him a deadbeat.”

“Oh, come on, Kitty,” Harvey said angrily. “Stop kidding yourself that your dad’s a good guy. He served eight years in prison.”

“That was a long time ago. He’s changed.”

“Guys like that don’t change. Once a felon, always a felon.”

“No,” she shouted. “You don’t really know him.”

Harvey laughed, but it seemed forced. “I know that he never loved you as much as he loved the booze. His brain was fried by it.”

Kitty’s face seemed to break, beginning with her brows, then moving to her eyes, cheeks and mouth. Ryan put a hand on her forearm.

“I’ll take you home,” he said.

She pushed him away and pointed at Harvey.

“You’re the one who kept feeding Dad alcohol and taking his money,” she shouted in the quiet hall. “You knew that my mom’s death destroyed him and you used his grief to increase your profits. Your bar was practically his second home for ten years.” A tear fell, and she quickly brushed it away. “The only thing wrong with my father’s brain is that it told him you were a friend, when you were only ever his enemy. If anyone here deserves to feel shame, it’s you, Harvey.”

A few gasps were audible in the silence and Harvey stood immobile, hands thrust into his pockets. From the looks of it, the truths she told him had hit home. He hung his head.

“I recently decided to close the bar and start over somewhere else,” he said. “I hope that helps bring everybody in Bethesda some closure.”

“No,” she retorted. “Closure only happens when you start telling the truth about the night of the murder.”

Harvey shrugged his shoulders, shook his head and walked to the exit. Kitty watched him leave, breathing hard, nostrils flaring. Ryan studied her in reluctant admiration. Despite her being wrong on this matter, she fought her case with passion and pride, refusing to bow to the criticism of the crowd. She stood alone and yet she stood tall. He felt an unwelcome attraction to her beginning to develop. That was the last thing he needed.

“Okay, folks,” he called out. “The show’s over. Let’s all go home and calm down, and if you have any information, come see me at the station.” He looked at Frank as he added, “No more public meetings about this, okay?”

Ryan then steered Kitty to a nearby vacant chair and encouraged her to sit, which she did, leaning forward and putting her head in her hands.

“I just wanted to lay flowers on Molly’s grave,” she said. “I miss her, too.” She took the clip from her hair and allowed the loose strands to cascade down her shoulders. “I used to babysit for her when she was little, and we had a strong bond. I intended to be really quick at the graveside so that no one would notice me. The last thing I wanted was to upset her parents. It was a bad idea.”

Ryan crouched at her side, one knee on the floor, as the hall emptied. “It was a terrible idea, Kitty, not least because you put yourself in harm’s way. I thought we’d agreed that you wouldn’t leave the house without telling me where you’re headed.”

“Like my very own bodyguard,” she said, imitating Frank’s mocking tone. “I don’t want to be tied to someone who openly wants my dad to spend the rest of his life in prison.”

He couldn’t deny his deep disgust for her father and his crime. Harry didn’t deserve to breathe free air again for the rest of his life.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t help how I feel.”

“And I can’t help how I feel, either. I needed to leave the house to follow up my new lead.”

“You mean the phone call from your witness?”

“He said he remembered Harvey arguing with a man late that night,” she said. “Harvey deliberately covered it up.”

Ryan didn’t quite know how to say this, so he just came out with it. “A man with an alcohol dependency isn’t likely to accurately remember what happened two years ago. His testimony is too unreliable for you to get excited about it.”

A deliberate cough sounded in his vicinity and Ryan looked up to see Sheriff Wilkins standing over him, thumbs hooked into his belt loops.

“Sorry to break up this little party,” the sheriff said with obvious disapproval. “But can I have a word with you now, Ryan?”

“Sure,” he said, rising and whispering to Kitty, “I’ll only be a few minutes, so don’t go anywhere, okay?”

She nodded her understanding.

Sheriff Wilkins led him to the side of the hall, his expression stern. “What’s this about you living down at the Linklater house?”

“I rent an apartment there,” he explained. “It’s no big deal.”

“Of course it’s a big deal,” the sheriff retorted. “You know I’m retiring soon and I think you’d make a perfect replacement, but how do you think the folks of this county will feel when they hear you’re cavorting with the daughter of a convicted killer?”

“I’m not cavorting with her, Jim. She’s in danger down there. She needs my help.”

“And she’ll get all the help she needs from the sheriff’s department when she calls to report an attack, just like anyone else. We’ll all look after her, Ryan. But you can’t afford to be personally associated with her, and if you don’t put a stop to this little friendship you can kiss my endorsement goodbye come election time. You can start by finding yourself another place to live. Do I make myself clear?”

Ryan rubbed his forehead. This had to be one of the worst days in his career.

“Yes, sir. You’re perfectly clear.”

“Good.”

He stalked off toward Shane, adjusting his hat as he went, leaving Ryan to consider his predicament. As much as he didn’t want to ruin his reputation in town—and his chance at becoming sheriff—this could be a matter of life-and-death for Kitty. He couldn’t simply abandon her, no matter what anyone said.

He turned around, only to see Kitty’s chair empty.

“Oh, Kitty,” he muttered under his breath. “Can’t you stay still for five minutes?”

He walked to the back of the empty hall and opened the door. He saw people returning to their cars and homes, no doubt discussing the high drama they’d witnessed, but he did not see Kitty. Then he heard a scream, a shrill and penetrating shriek that caused his anxiety to surge.

The scream had come from the woods.