Dark Pursuit

The creaking gears in Darell’s brain shuddered to a halt. In the racking quiet, the old emptiness rushed back.

No, no, no. Not yet.

Darell’s shoulders slumped. He dropped his head low.

“What is it?” Kaitlan demanded.

He raised up, his face slack. “It’s too easy.”

Stunned silence. Margaret and Kaitlan exclaimed in stereo, “Huh?”

Darell turned a weary gaze on his granddaughter. How could he have thought for one minute this would work? “The perpetrator, the bad guy. It should never be who readers first suspect. They’ll be disappointed.”

Kaitlan’s brow knitted. She stared at him, lips parted. Then her eyes rounded, her cheeks draining of color. “Grandfather.” Her voice fell to a thick whisper. “This isn’t one of your novels. This is real.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with sorrow and dread, as if she’d gazed into his brain and seen its flimsy barrier between clarity and confusion.

Just what did she think he was, a demented old man?

Darell drew himself up with a huff. “Of course it’s real, girl, you think I don’t know that?”

Kaitlan cast a pleading glance at Margaret. “It’s just … you said …”

He puffed out his chest. “Tell me—why did you come here?”

“I thought you could—”

“Was it not because I have the keen mind, the wits to guide you?” His voice rose. “Was it not because of who I am? My experience, my cunning, my knowledge of psychology and crime?”

She nodded.

“And just where does that come from?” he shouted. “From writing suspense novels!”

Kaitlan bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean …”

Margaret tilted her head. “Now, D.—”

He threw her a steely look—shut up. She closed her mouth.

Kaitlan stared at her lap. A tear dropped onto her cheek, and she brushed it away. “Grandfather, please. I don’t know who else to turn to. I’m scared, and …” She raised her head, mouth trembling. “Can you tell me what to do?”

Darell’s heart twinged. Even now his mind phased in and out. Could he logic through this puzzle?

Leland Hugh. Finding the truth here would give motivation for Leland Hugh.

Darell took a long breath and straightened. He summoned what remained of the man he had been—both for Kaitlan’s sake and his own. The strong voice, the confidence. That brilliant writer who knew how to plot suspense. “Of course I can help you. But you must not question my decisions. You must do exactly as I say.”

thirteen

Kaitlan could only nod. Yes, she’d do whatever her grandfather said. No way in her own confusion could she think straight. And she had to admit, she wanted to believe Craig was innocent. She couldn’t look at the facts objectively.

Margaret shifted on her end of the couch. Kaitlan glanced at her. Margaret’s shoulders were drawn in, her lips pressed. Almost like she was biting her tongue to keep quiet. Kaitlan raised her eyebrows —what?

The woman looked away.

Kaitlan drew a ragged breath and focused on her grandfather. “I’m running out of time. Craig’s supposed to pick me up for Hallie’s birthday party at six-thirty. I need to call and give him some excuse for not going. And what are we going to do about the body?”

Her grandfather rubbed his cheek with a gnarled finger. “It’s too late to go to the police. Even with Craig’s ties to the force, it may have worked if you’d called right away. But you fled the scene. They won’t buy your explanations.”

“Wait, they can’t pin the murders on her.” Margaret leaned forward. “The first one happened before she even moved to town.”

Kaitlan’s grandfather gave her a long-suffering look. “They’d say she was copycatting on this one. Craig would quickly admit he’d told her about the cloth—better that than become a suspect himself.”

“Oh.” Margaret’s face fell.

“But I don’t even know who the woman is!” Kaitlan burst.

Her grandfather scoffed. “She’s in your apartment. She’s dead. What more do they need?”

Kaitlan gripped the edge of the couch. “I’ll prove I didn’t do it. They have to believe me, I’m innocent!”

“Yes, you might prove it eventually. But in the meantime you’ll be arrested and denied bail. You’ll sit in jail for months while the newspapers parade all the ‘evidence’ before the public. They’ll convict you before the case ever goes to trial. Is that what you want?”

Kaitlan squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head.

Her grandfather rapped his cane against the floor. He focused across the room, brow furrowed. Interminable seconds passed by … a full minute. Still he said nothing.

“Grandfather—”

“Quiet!”

Kaitlan edged back against the couch.

Her grandfather focused on the wall.

Terror wormed its way through Kaitlan’s gut. Was he stumped already? Maybe he really couldn’t do this. Hadn’t Margaret indicated his mind wasn’t so sharp? And the way he talked about all this like it was some novel …

Her grandfather’s head snapped toward her. “I need fifteen minutes to sort this out. Get out, both of you.” He shooed a hand at them.

“But—”

“Go!”

Kaitlan looked at Margaret. Together they pushed off the couch. Kaitlan’s knees wobbled as she left the room.