Mean Streak(70)

“He had your ID. He knew who you were, where you lived. But he never offered to make a call for you?”

“Maybe he did and I don’t remember. But again, I—”

“You have hundreds of numbers programmed into your phone,” Grange said, pressing now. “A couple of taps on the screen, and he could have notified someone that you were still alive.”

She lowered her gaze. For the longest time, neither of them said anything, but she could feel their stares boring into the crown of her bowed head.

Knight was the one to break the tense silence. “You’re not being quite up front with us, are you, Dr. Charbonneau?”

“I’ve told you what I know.”

“Well, what you’ve told me and Grange bothers us.”

She raised her head and looked at him. “Why? I’m back. I’m fine. Isn’t that all that matters?”

“Well, it would be. Except we’ve got an individual who interests us. He passed up a sizeable reward and dodged being thanked for his hospitality. We’re thinking there was a reason he ducked the media and wanted to remain anonymous, that maybe he wasn’t such a Good Samaritan.

“We think maybe your concussion wasn’t caused by you falling, and that possibly he didn’t find you on the trail, but that he assaulted you on the trail, banged you on the head, and then, for reasons only he knows, he chickened out on killing you.”

The rock.

You weren’t supposed to see that. I knew seeing it would upset you.





Chapter 23



When she didn’t speak, Knight leaned forward and propped his forearms on his thighs, inspiring her confidence. “Emory—can I call you Emory? You need to tell us if this man, uh, compromised you in any way.”

You sorry yet?

“No, he didn’t.”

“I understand it might be too painful for you to talk about it to us,” Knight said. “If that’s the case, we can get a female officer to come over and take your statement. But we need to know if a crime was committed. No matter what he threatened to do if you reported it, you—”

“Sergeant Knight.” She held up her hand. “I must stop you there. I was not his victim.”

“We’ve had whack jobs hide up in these mountains before, you know. Good territory to get lost in. Remember the guy who bombed the Olympics in Atlanta?”

“The man in the cabin was perfectly sane.”

“See any porno lying around? Videos, magazines?”

“No.”

“Women-grabbers often—”

“He wasn’t like that.”

“Not creepy then?”

“No.”

“Any rants against the government?”

“When he spoke at all, he was reasonable and soft-spoken, certainly not ranting. I would describe him as taciturn.” She glanced toward the foot of the bed. “Like Sergeant Grange.”

“Huh.” Knight turned and looked at his partner as though assessing him for the first time. Coming back to her, he took a rubber band from his shirt pocket and began winding it around his fingers. “Did you see anything that looked like bomb-making materials?”

“No.”

“Did he have guns?”

“I’m certain he did.”

He raised his eyebrows. “How do you know?”

“A deer head was mounted above the mantel.”

“In these parts, there are deer heads mounted above nearly every mantel.”

“Precisely.”

She had scored that point. Following a lull, Grange asked, “Did he demonstrate any violent tendencies?”

“Not toward me.” She envisioned Norman and Will Floyd lying where they’d landed, bloody and misshapen, moaning in misery. She also thought of the gallantry extended to Pauline and the wrenching concern for Lisa. “The truth is, gentlemen, this man remains as much a mystery to me as he does to you.”

Knight popped the rubber band against his fingers several times. “Guess that says it all. Unless you can think of anything else.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

“That doesn’t leave much for us to tell the media,” Grange said.

She’d momentarily forgotten the upcoming press conference, and she was grateful she wouldn’t be called upon to make a statement. “Please keep the explanation to a minimum. I didn’t suffer any physical or emotional trauma. I really don’t owe anyone an explanation—”

“Well, see, you sorta do,” Knight said. “Faking your disappearance. Causing a false public alarm. Those are crimes, Emory.”

Her lips parted in surprise. “I didn’t fake my concussion.”

“No, no, we saw the CT,” Knight said. “That part’s factual. The rest…” He frowned and seemed in no way forgiving.

She took a swift breath. “I realize how many people were involved in the search for me. An undertaking like that costs time and money, and I intend to donate funds to each county involved to help them recoup that expense. Perhaps to the school systems or to the public health departments.”

“Well, that’s awful generous of you. A gesture like that would go a long way to keep you in the public’s favor. And nobody feels inclined to press charges against you at this time.”