Rocky Mountain Manhunt. Cassie Miles
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don’t suppose you have any clothes that might fit me.”
“As a matter of fact, my twelve-year-old nephew was up here for a week. I think he left some stuff.” He opened the door to a linen closet and rummaged through the lowest shelf. “Here we go. Jeans and a T-shirt.”
One glance at the tiny jeans convinced her that they’d never fit. And the T-shirt was emblazoned with voluptuous blue lips and gothic-style print. “Does that say Death Wormer?”
“I think it’s Darth Vermin,” Liam said. “They’re not his favorite band anymore. Which is why the shirt was left behind.”
Though she doubted the little-boy clothes would fit, she accepted them with thanks and entered the bathroom. Hesitantly, Kate sidled toward the mirror above the sink. She wasn’t going to be a pretty sight. For twenty-eight days she’d been without moisturizer, body wash, shampoo or conditioner. Her only cleansing products were toothpaste—thank goodness she’d had that—and a large bar of soap which she’d used sparingly, to make it last.
Avoiding the inevitable moment when she confronted her reflection, she turned on the water faucet. Hot water was a luxury she would never take for granted again. She held her hands beneath the flow and slowly washed away the dirt. Her palms felt rough and calloused.
Slowly, she lifted her chin and faced her reflection. Her matted, multicolored hair looked like porcupine quills. Her skin was dirty brown and her eyes seemed huge and wild. She was skinny, seriously scrawny. There was no meat on her cheeks, and the line of her jaw was razor sharp. Her neck was a twig.
She peeled off her clothing. Her hip bones jutted out. Her breasts were almost nonexistent.
Apparently, living off the land was a terrific weight-loss program. However, if the end result meant looking like this, Kate doubted anyone would rush to sign up for a wilderness health spa.
“It could be worse,” she told her reflection. “You could have turned green and grown scales.”
But she didn’t hate the way she looked. In her eyes, she saw a brand new confidence that she’d never had before. Her twenty-eight days in the mountains had given her time for growth. She was wiser—strengthened by the knowledge that she could take care of herself and survive against overwhelming odds.
Life would be different now. She was Kate Carradine, a pampered heiress who had regular appointments for facials, manicures and stylists.
She reached toward her reflection. Her fingers touched the mirror. “Goodbye, Rain.”
Chapter Four
While Kate showered, Liam threw together a sandwich. His mood was pensive and concerned. He’d dragged Kate halfway back to civilization. Now he had to figure out what came next.
The problem was Wayne Silverman. He was still missing, and Kate was, most likely, the last person who had seen him. She was a witness. As such, Liam should have turned her over to the authorities for questioning.
But she was also a victim who was scared to death. She needed protection. His protection.
Her need was enough reason for him to bend the rules and keep her safely hidden away at his cabin. She wouldn’t be much use as a witness, anyway. Not while she couldn’t remember what had happened.
Her memory loss was the second big problem. Amnesia wasn’t much of an alibi; the police would be skeptical. And when the media got hold of her story, all hell would break loose. Might as well call the tabloids right now.
Things would go a lot easier for Kate if she could remember. Last night, when he’d talked about her family, she seemed to have recall, and it stood to reason that more data might jog her memory. Photos and articles. The kind of information that Colorado Crime Consultants might have on file.
On the kitchen phone, he punched in the number for CCC. The office manager, Molly Griffith, greeted him warmly. Though they’d only met once, she remembered him. “You’re the pilot from Grand Lake. What’s up?”
“Is Adam there?”
“He’s out on a case. I can help.”
To tell the truth, Liam was relieved to be talking to Molly instead of her boss. Briggs was a stickler for following the letter of the law. No way would he approve of Kate staying at Liam’s cabin.
“I found Kate Carradine,” he said.
“Dead or alive?” Molly was blunt and straightforward. He suspected that she was all too accustomed to hearing the worst about missing persons.
“Very much alive,” he assured her. “Kate’s in good physical condition.”
“Un-freaking-believable!” Molly enthused. “She’s been missing for nearly a month. It’s amazing that she survived. Where are you?”
“My cabin.”
“How long will it take you to get here? I’ll call her mother right away and—”
“Hold up,” Liam said. “I want you to wait before making the notifications. Kate’s scared and confused. She can’t remember what happened to her.”
“Amnesia?”
“Exactly,” he said. “I need a day or two to calm her down.”
“You know we don’t work like that,” Molly said. “CCC always cooperates with the cops.”
“It’s not the police that worry me,” he said. “There’s going to be a media frenzy. Kate needs time to prepare herself.”
There was a pause on the other end of the phone while Molly considered. Then she said, “One more day can’t hurt.”
“Thanks, Molly.”
“Adam won’t be happy about this plan, but I’ll convince him.” Molly had a lot of brass. She needed a strong personality to deal with her boss. “What can I do to help?”
“Like I said, she has amnesia. It’d be useful if Kate could see more information on the Carradine family. Fax me anything you have. Photographs would be good.”
“I put together a file when her mother contacted us,” Molly said. “Consider it faxed.”
He disconnected the call, finished off his sandwich and made himself another. After only one night on Kate’s regimen of weeds and bitter tea, he was starving.
Sandwich in hand, he went outside and stood on the front porch to eat. The view always gave him pleasure. He owned eight acres, but the surrounding national forest made his location seem vast. His nearest neighbors were 2.7 miles down the road, and they weren’t often home. Still, he was able to drive into Grand Lake in about half an hour, and he had all the comforts. His solitude was nothing compared to Kate’s experience.
With the second sandwich devoured, he went back into the house and headed toward his office to pick up the faxes from Molly. As he passed the closed bathroom door, he didn’t hear noise from the shower. “Kate? How are you doing in there?”
“You wouldn’t happen to have a blow-dryer?”
“No.”
“Mousse?”
“Sorry.”
She opened the door. “I’m sure mascara is out of the question.”
She looked damn cute in his nephew’s jeans and T-shirt. Though she was skinny, her curves were unmistakably feminine. Her waist was tiny, and her butt filled out the denim quite nicely. Though her hair was still spiky from being wet, her overall appearance was more tamed. “You look good.”
“Not hardly,” she said. “I don’t care what the Duchess of Windsor said about how you can’t be too thin or too rich. This is too much.”
“Too much thin? Or too much rich?”
“I