Honor (36 page)

“I think so.”

“Maybe I should ask my mom,” Christine said. “She told me you went and got mine before it broke down.”

White lie of the week.

Christine slid the DVD into her new laptop.

“I’ll ask her,” Kenzie said quickly. “If it’s there, I’ll find it.”

“That would be great. There’s a lot of stuff on it that I was working on, but I’m not sure exactly what. If I do go back, I’d like to be caught up.” She frowned. “If that’s even possible. My boss Melvin is a forward-march type. Did you ever meet him, Kenzie?”

“No.” That was absolutely true.

“I don’t feel like giving it back to him,” Christine confessed. “Sorry. I ask you to do so many things for me.”

Kenzie waved that away. “What color is it?”

“Black. It’s chunky. Not like this one. I think I left it in the hutch.”

“I’ll look there. Did I tell you that your mom tidied up your place?”

Christine groaned. “I’ll never be able to find anything ever again.”

“Do you want to go back?” Kenzie was risking a lot by asking the question, but Christine might think it was strange if she didn’t.

Christine stopped looking at the movie menu. “Not yet. Not for a while. It’s like—” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “I was someone else when I lived there, put it that way. It seems like a very long time ago.”

Good enough. Kenzie would have been hard put to come up with a reason for Christine not to go back to her own apartment.

She called Linc once she was ensconced in her rooms above Hamill’s. He was out somewhere. Sounded like a bar full of loud guys.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Watching sports on TV, playing foosball, and having a beer,” he said cheerfully. “What’s up?”

“Just wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay.” The background noise diminished. “I’m someplace quieter. Go ahead.”

She heard a tremendous crash and then his yelp. “Dropped tray,” he muttered. “No major damage—to me, anyway.”

Kenzie rolled her eyes. “Do you want me to call you back?”

“No. You said you were going to ask me something. I want you to ask me something.”

Maybe he’d had more than one beer. He sounded a little too cheerful all of a sudden.

“I spent the afternoon with Christine,” she said.

“How is she?”

“Doing okay. She asked me about the SKC laptop.”

“Oh?” He sounded more serious.

“She just remembered that it was in her apartment. She wants it.”

“What for?” Linc was totally serious now.

“I think she has some vague notion about getting caught up with whatever she was working on at SKC. Just in case she goes back or something like that.”

“It is hers. Or theirs. Not mine, anyway.”

Kenzie knew he’d copied what he might need from it. “I think you should just keep it for now. She’s apt to forget that she asked for it—she still does do that.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. I think so.” She paused for a moment. “You didn’t ever find anything on it that would scare her, right?”

“No. It all seemed fairly routine. I hate to admit that most of it confused me, but that may be because some of it was in code.”

“I think I’m following you.”

She heard a faint sound like a heavy door swinging and realized he’d gone outside.

“Hear that?” he asked.

Kenzie was silent. “No.”

“It’s a cricket. The rain’s stopped. It’s chirping up a storm.”

“Don’t say that word. I don’t believe you anyway. It’s under a little umbrella.”

Linc laughed. “No, it isn’t, and neither am I. I can see a couple of stars too—right there, where the clouds are opening up. One for you and one for me.”

“That’s nice.” Kenzie hoped her smile was in her answer. She missed him.

“Okay, nature girl,” he said. “I had another idea for something to do. Want to see where the river gets wild? Great Falls is amazing after a storm. We could go tomorrow.”

She wanted to see him right now. But she heard one of his buddies come out and start joking around. Another joined them.

“Sure,” she said. “Text me a time. I’ll be ready.”

Kenzie leaned against the flat side of an enormous boulder, using it to brace herself as she watched the river below her, at near-flood level after two days of ceaseless rain. It raced and smashed over rocks that were barely visible in the dark water and white foam. The wind whistled through the gorge, the last reminder of the storm front that had stalled and finally blown through.

Linc was somewhere behind her. He’d stopped to help a group of hikers find their bearings on a map they’d unfolded. She’d gone ahead, a little annoyed by their endless questions.

The storm-swollen river captivated her. Jagged rocks, dangerously slick, crowded closer together at the falls. The river boiled over, a white torrent. The churning water below became a trap that no one could escape.

The warning signs made the danger very clear, but there were those who didn’t take them seriously.

Kenzie kept a safe distance. But she still enjoyed the beautiful display of nature’s power.

By chance—she hadn’t heard them—she turned to see an elderly couple. They were dressed alike in khaki, both with binoculars around their necks. Slowly but surely they made their way up the path behind the rock, and paused to talk to her.

“Isn’t it amazing?” the woman asked.

“That’s the right word. Yes.”

“Hope we didn’t startle you,” the man said.

“No, not at all. I saw you before I heard you.”

“Well, I guess you found a safe perch.” He smiled at her.

She indicated their binoculars. “How’s the birdwatching?”

“Oh, we saw a few,” the woman replied. “Nothing unusual. Our friend the heron must be hiding from the storm. Perhaps he hasn’t woken up yet.”

Our friend the heron
. They were so sweet.

“Maybe so.” Kenzie laughed. “Best of luck. I think we’re seeing the last of the storm.”

“Let’s hope so,” the old man said.

“Now you be careful, dear,” the woman said to Kenzie. “You wouldn’t want to slip. Not with the river so high and wild.”

They went on. Helping each other over rough spots.

How it ought to be. She looked sideways and down, not seeing Linc. Where was he?

Wild as it was, the park always had visitors, and they were generally quite friendly. Some were from out of state or even other countries. But a large number of them were from right around here in Virginia and Maryland.

She went on a little farther, going the opposite direction from the old couple, keeping her hands on the rock as she moved along the increasingly narrow trail.

Someone spoke to her. Kenzie didn’t look around. She couldn’t.

“You’re very near the edge.” A man’s voice. Not young, not old.

She gritted her teeth. “I’m being careful.”

“That’s good. The water is dangerous.”

There were a lot of well-meaning people in the world, she thought. “Yes, I know.”

The pleasant voice paused. Maybe because she was acting like someone who didn’t want to listen.

“River and rock.” He sounded like he was hypnotized. “Do you know what happens underneath a waterfall?”

Kenzie kept moving. She didn’t answer.

“If you get swept over, the water rolls and rolls—and traps you. Forever. They call it a drowning machine.”

She turned to stare at him.

There wasn’t much to see, except that he was solidly built. He wore a fleece parka with a collar that was part of the hood, zipped all the way up.

Not because it was cold. Because he wanted to conceal most of his face. He wore sunglasses, which he lifted to the top of his head.

Those eyes. She had seen them before. Twice.

It was him.

Kenzie pushed herself off the rock and ran down the path, little rocks skittering. She was losing her footing, her body tilting from side to side as she struggled for balance and ran on. She didn’t care if she twisted her ankle. She only wanted to get away. She didn’t look to see if he was behind her.

C
HAPTER
19

L
inc took the path along the river, looking for Kenzie. He’d sent the hikers on their way, map and all. Sometimes being nice didn’t seem worth it. Where was she?

The turbulent river sent spray flying into the air as it rushed past him. A floating tree, muddy roots in the air, smashed against a rock and splintered into pieces which the water swept away.

There was no sign of her.

Uneasy, he went faster, edging through a part of the path that was so narrow he had to use his hands to move along. He looked ahead and then down, seeing no one but an elderly couple, binoculars raised. The last thing he wanted to do was startle a couple of birdwatchers. But they might have seen her.

He made his way down to them.

“Hey there,” he said. “Sorry to interrupt, but—”

They both lowered their binoculars and turned to look at him.

“Not a problem,” the man said. “There’s nothing to see out there. The birds all flew away home. I’m thinking me and Agnes should do the same.”

“Speak for yourself, Earl. I haven’t given up,” she said.

Oh boy. Linc didn’t want to get stuck in another conversation. He got right to the point.

“Did you happen to see someone go this way? A woman, not very tall, with dark hair?” He described what Kenzie was wearing.

“Oh yes. We certainly did. She seemed like a very nice young lady,” the woman answered. “She didn’t come down here, though. She went a different way. I think she wanted a clearer view of the river.”

Linc felt his pulse jump. Kenzie knew better than to get too close to the banks—what was left of them—when the river was like this.

He took a deep breath. These folks didn’t seem at all alarmed, so that was something. At their age, they had to be careful of every step.

“How long ago was that?”

“Oh, I dunno,” said the old man. “Probably about ten minutes. Is that right, Agnes?”

“I think so,” she chirped. “Do you want us to tell her that you’re looking for her? What’s your name?”

“Linc. And her name is Kenzie.”

“Okay. If she comes back this way, we’ll stop her. I hope you two don’t end up going in circles.”

“Me too. Thanks.” He started off with renewed energy.

Then the old man spoke again. “I almost forgot. I looked behind me to adjust the focus on these things”—he patted the binoculars—“and I saw another person going the same way as her. A feller in a parka. I didn’t get a good look at his face.”

“He was walking with his head down,” his wife added.

“And no wonder,” Earl chuckled, “considering how dang slippery the path is. But he was moving kinda fast. Does that help?”

Linc didn’t stick around to answer the question.

He was out of breath and crazy with worry when he finally spotted her a half mile down the path, where it took an abrupt turn inland. Kenzie was under the massive trunk of a tree that the storm had blown down, crouching with one hand clutching a broken branch.

“Kenzie!” The wind swallowed his voice. She didn’t even look his way. He came closer, slipping in the soft, damp earth. He reached for her, getting a grip on her arm. “What the hell happened?”

She twisted free without answering and came out from under.

“Why did you go so far ahead of me?”

“I was hiding,” she gasped.

She turned her face to meet his gaze. Linc saw the streaks of dirt under the tumbled hair.

“He just doubled back and went by. He didn’t see me.”

Linc knew who she meant.

“Tell me exactly what happened. What he said.”

In a halting voice, she did.

“But he never touched you?”

“No.” She shivered. “It almost didn’t matter. The way he looked at me—I felt like I couldn’t move. Then he blinked and I ran.”

Linc gently drew her close. He rubbed her arms, trying to warm her up. It didn’t work. She wasn’t shivering because the air was cold.

“You did the right thing.”

Kenzie nestled against him and he wrapped her in the circle of his arms. He lifted his head, still keeping watch. The trees moved in the wind that whistled through them. The sharp crack of a falling branch made her flinch.

“Linc ... how does he keep finding me?”

“I don’t know.” He stroked her tangled hair and held her closer. “But we have to work harder on finding him.”

Harry Cowles let Kenzie go ahead of him into his office. It was small, with no windows and muted lighting. A large monitor dominated the desk, as before. There was a chair that she knew was his, and others along the wall, in different positions from what she remembered.

Kenzie reminded herself that she wasn’t the only one who came here. Cowles spent hours each day with victims of much worse crimes than stalking.

She’d gotten off lightly. So far.

“Good to see you, Kenzie. Thanks for coming back.”

“I wanted to try again. We didn’t get too far the first time.”

“You did fine. Don’t underestimate yourself. We ended up with a good preliminary sketch.”

Cowles was half shrink and half artist. “Can I see it again?”

He leaned over the desk and touched a key. “I left it pulled up—there you go.”

She didn’t want to see the man again, didn’t believe she’d gotten anything right. Though she didn’t want to admit to it, her fear distorted her memory of him.

“Would you like some coffee before we get started again? There’s a brewing machine down the hall that uses those little cups. You can pick your flavor.”

Caffeine was something she definitely didn’t need. Her nerves were stretched to the breaking point.

“No thanks,” she replied. “But water would be good. Is there a vending machine in the hall?”

“No.”

He moved to a small refrigerator that she hadn’t noticed her first time here and opened the door. The sudden bright light from its interior startled her for a moment. The glass shelves held bottles of water and cans of soda.

“That’s convenient.”

“Okayed by the chief. I keep it filled. People who come in here are stressed as it is. As you’re finding out, getting an accurate drawing can be a time-consuming process.”