Midnight Fear (17 page)

C
aitlyn watched from inside the stables as Reid spoke with the reporter who’d brazenly appeared from a news van that had traveled up the dirt road. Although she couldn’t hear what he was saying, she had seen him flash his shield at the beginning of the discussion. Reid wore jeans, a flannel shirt and hiking boots, his gun holstered at his hip.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t glad to have him here. Even if it were only for a few days.

Caitlyn hadn’t taken her pain medication so that she could drive her own car back from the District despite her injured hand. Reid had followed in his SUV. When they’d arrived, things were exactly as she had predicted. Several reporters were roaming the stables, and flustered therapists had delayed sessions due to the disruption. Reid had quickly escorted the media out, warning them not to pass beyond the front gates at the stables’ main entrance. Caitlyn breathed a sigh of relief as the reporter he was currently talking to got back into the
van. Within moments, it made a sharp U-turn and disappeared down the road.

Reid’s eyes met hers, his gaze watchful. She turned as a shaggy-haired, adolescent male approached.

“The horses should have been brushed at noon.” Aaron Fleming held both a dandy brush and currycomb. He spoke in a monotone, his eyes glued to the ground. “We should use long, sweeping strokes that follow the direction the hair grows. It’s important to start on one side and then move around to the other side from the front…”

Caitlyn listened patiently as he continued a one-sided discussion on the various steps for brushing down a horse. He fidgeted as he spoke, his body weight shifting from one foot to the other.

“You’re right, Aaron, we’re late getting started with the grooming. Maybe in the meantime you can check the brushes and make sure they’re all clean and ready to use?”

He gave a faint shrug that looked like indifference, but Caitlyn knew he’d follow her instructions to the letter. “What happened to your hand and face?”

“I fell,” she said simply, leaving out the details.

“That’s Aaron,” she told Reid, who joined her once the teen headed in the direction of the tack room. “He has Asperger’s. There’s a group here on Tuesdays and Thursdays. We have a really amazing therapist who specializes in the disorder.”

“Working with the horses helps?”

“It builds personal interaction, since Asperger’s
children often lack basic social skills and can be very remote. The occupational therapy is also good for stress management.”

Reid nodded thoughtfully. He seemed to be taking in the busy stable area, which had begun to settle down to business as usual once the media circus had dispersed. The Asperger’s group was gathering around a docile, sable-coated horse named Romeo, petting him and feeding him slices of apple. Outside in the equestrian ring, a therapist was showing children from an urban program how to properly mount and dismount a horse.

“How many horses do you have?” Reid asked.

“There’re eighteen used in the therapy program—over half of them are rescue horses.” Caitlyn felt a pang as she realized she’d subtracted her beloved Aggie from the total. Aggie’s stall remained empty, its gate closed, and someone had placed a wreath of daisies on the gate. The flowers had been there for a while, and were drooping and brown. “I also have two that aren’t used in the program. They’re a bit high-spirited.”

“They’re for you.”

She nodded. “I rode one of them the day we had target practice.”

Her mind flashed on an image of Reid holding her in the rain and kissing her.

“Reid,” she began uncertainly. “You should go back to D.C. tonight. Maybe you can help with Bliss’s abduction. I feel guilty having you here watching over me instead.”

“There’s a half dozen other Bureau agents and a
police task force assigned to the kidnapping,” he told her. “I’m keeping in touch with Agent Tierney by cell phone. For now, the best thing I can do is shoestring some type of security for you out here before I go back on active duty. I’m going to talk to Chief Malcolm later today, to see if he can spare a unit to sit in front of your home in the evenings.”

Caitlyn took a tight breath. “Okay.”

“You trust Manny Ruiz.”

It was a statement—not a question, she realized. “Yes.”

“I’ll talk to him when he returns on Sunday. Before I leave.”

She watched as he walked to one of the stalls that contained the horse he had ridden previously. He called it over by name, smiling as the animal nudged his hands and pockets, looking for treats. Reid patted its long neck.

“Easy, girl,” he spoke softly. “I’ve got nothing for you, but I’ll see what I can find.”

He really was a beautiful man, Caitlyn thought, watching Reid’s gentle ministration. The recollection of him clutching his head in pain had stuck with her, and the possibility he might be ill again was something she found hard to face. Caitlyn said a silent prayer he was telling her the truth, that there really was no reason for her concern. She admitted to herself that despite whatever had happened last night, he seemed perfectly all right now.

“There’s a call for you,
señorita,
” one of the stable
hands, a Hispanic man in his early twenties, said as he passed by her, hauling a heavy leather saddle.

“Thanks, Pablo. Do you know who it is?”

“No, ma’am.”

Caitlyn figured the call was from a reporter. It wouldn’t take her long to say “no comment.” She looked at Reid again, who was now in conversation with one of the therapy instructors. Leaving the stalls, she walked past the hay storage room and down the hallway to her office. A note was attached to the door and she took it down. It was a message from Rob Treadwell, letting her know he had come by. She sighed inwardly, wondering how long the note had been there, and went inside. Line two blinked insistently on the phone console on her desk.

“This is Caitlyn Cahill.”

“Hello, Caity.” The unexpected sound of Joshua’s voice caused a jolt of electricity to pass through her. “When are you coming to see me? I thought you’d want me to draw you another map.”

She could tell by his caustic tone that it was the
other
Joshua who was speaking, the one who overshadowed any glimmer of the boy she had once known. It took everything Caitlyn had not to slam the phone back onto the console. She swallowed her revulsion. “I—I’ll be back out soon. I promise.”

“This weekend?”

“No. That isn’t possible.”

“Can we talk some now, then?”

She closed her eyes. “I don’t think so—”

“I miss you, Caity,” he wheedled. “Give me five minutes. Then when you come visit, I’ll give you two bodies instead of one. A twofer.” He laughed. “That sounds like a good deal, doesn’t it?”

Caitlyn halfway hoped Reid would walk into her office, take the phone from her and tell Joshua to go to hell. But instead, she reached over and closed the door with a soft snap. Pulling out her desk chair, she sank onto it. She had to do this.

“All right,” she said wearily. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Bliss.” He lowered his voice. “I’ve been thinking about her all day. About what’s probably happening to her right now. If he’s really like me, what he’s
doing
to her—”

“How do you know about Bliss?”

“There
are
televisions in prison, Caity. I know about the attack on you, too.”

“Joshua, listen to me.” She grasped the receiver more tightly. “Do you know who took Bliss? Where she is?”

She could practically hear him shrug. “Sorry. I don’t have a clue.”

“You knew Bliss! We all grew up together. If there’s anything you know that could help find her—”

“Bliss was a snotty, spoiled bitch. I hope he
enjoys
her.” He must have been able to gauge Caitlyn’s reaction, because he added, “We’re only a minute into this. If you hang up on me now, you’re back to one body.”

Caitlyn passed a trembling hand over her eyes. “I’m still here.”

As Joshua talked, she watched the clock on her desk, counting down the seconds until his time had elapsed. Then she wordlessly disconnected the phone, feeling a chilling numbness wrap around her. She’d listened as Joshua described in vivid, grotesque detail the things that were very likely happening to Bliss at that very moment. The same things he’d done to each of his victims, and that he’d fantasized about doing to her. His words had been low and hoarse. At the end of the conversation, the hitch in his breathing and a last, hard grunt told her he’d been masturbating.

She felt dirty, sick.

A knock sounded at the door. Reid leaned inside. “I was looking for you. One of the hands said you had a call…”

He stared at Caitlyn. “Who was it?”

“Joshua. He offered to give up two bodies the next time I…visited.”

Reid came closer. His eyes were the color of cold, gray steel. “In exchange for what?”

“For letting him describe to me what’s probably happening to Bliss.”

He sighed angrily. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. If it gets this nightmare over with sooner—”

She startled as a child’s piercing scream came from somewhere outside the stables. Reid ran toward the sound with Caitlyn behind him.

Children scattered as they reached the outdoors. One of the quarter horses, a black gelding named Midnight, was reared up on its hind legs a hundred or so feet from
the stables at the edge of the trail. A girl of about ten clung desperately to the animal’s saddle. One of the female therapists was smacking at something on the ground with a long stick. Caitlyn gasped at the large copperhead amid the dust the horse’s hooves had kicked up.

“Don’t!” she called, rushing forward. Reid got there first and reached for the horse’s bridle, trying to pull it back down on all fours. For a heartbeat, Caitlyn feared he would be trampled. The snake struck his boot. He managed to back the horse away and pass the reins off to Caitlyn, who pulled it toward the stable area with her uninjured hand.

“Get back,” Reid yelled at the therapist. He took aim with his gun and shot. The snake’s head exploded, although its serpentine body continued to flop and twist for several seconds before becoming motionless.

Caitlyn helped the crying girl off the horse, then sent her over to the therapist who’d been poking at the snake. She led the child away, her arm around the girl’s shoulders. Caitlyn spoke softly to the gelding, stroking his flank until he seemed to calm.

“Are you okay?” Caitlyn asked as Reid holstered his gun and walked to her. His jeans and boots were covered in dust.

He nodded. “Thank God for thick boots.”

Still, Caitlyn felt a disquiet spread through her, although whether it was due to the snake or Joshua’s phone call she wasn’t sure. She had never seen a snake in such close proximity to the busy stables before, and
she felt foolish for thinking it was some kind of omen. The stable hands and program participants were talking excitedly, and a few of the bolder teenagers had moved forward to get a closer look at the copperhead’s decimated remains.

“Caitlyn.” Reid’s voice recaptured her attention. “Did Joshua give any indication he had personal knowledge into Ms. Harper’s abduction?”

She shook her head. “He claims to have just heard about it on the news.”

“I’ll let Agent Tierney know he contacted you. It might be worth sending an agent out to speak with him.”

“You?” she asked.

“I don’t know. That’s Mitch’s call. He’s the lead on the investigation.”

“If you go out there, I want to go, too. I want to find the victims for their families.” Caitlyn tried to keep the emotion from her voice. “There’s nothing I can do for Bliss, but I can…help them.”

Reid didn’t reply, but his fingers briefly covered hers on the horse’s flank.

Caitlyn peered at the group now crowding around the dead snake. She thought of her brother, her mind flitting between images of Joshua in his prison uniform, her faceless attacker in the hospital parking deck, and the striking copperhead. To her, the three evils seemed to run together until they were one and the same.

R
eid stared out the living room window as dusk settled over the farmhouse like a thick, gray blanket. Looking past the driveway, the forest of trees was already dark and blurred, making him realize all over again how truly isolated Caitlyn was out here.

He’d spent the latter part of the afternoon at the Middleburg Police Department, filling Ed Malcolm in on the situation and attempting to enlist his help. Like most small townships, Middleburg had only a handful of law enforcement officers, but at least the police chief had agreed to have a squad car conduct drive-throughs on the Rambling Rose property several times each night. He’d feel better if Caitlyn would agree to a temporary move back to the District. But at the same time, Reid understood her need to be out here—near her work and away from the tragedy of her past. He’d simply have to rely on Ruiz.

He turned from the window as she came down the staircase. Caitlyn wore a jersey skirt and soft, scoop
necked top—clothing he imagined was easier for her to get in and out of, considering her injured hand.

“You’re not wearing your brace,” he noted.

“I took it off to shower. It makes my skin itch. I’ll be careful.”

“Ready to eat?”

She sighed. “It was thoughtful of you to get takeout while you were in town, but I’m still not very hungry.”

“You need food, Caitlyn,” Reid admonished. He coaxed her into the dining room that was separated from the kitchen by a large butler’s pantry. On the table, foam packaging held generous portions of linguine with clam sauce and a meat ravioli. There were also yeasty Italian rolls dusted with grated Parmesan.

“I didn’t know any of the restaurants around here. Ed Malcolm recommended the place.”

“DeLucci’s is perfect. Thank you.” She walked to the wine cabinet near the French doors and extracted a bottle of merlot. “Could you open this?”

Reid took the wine and corkscrew opener she handed him, expertly popping open the bottle in a few deft moves.

“Looks like a good bottle.” He poured a small amount into each of the two balloon goblets Caitlyn had set out.

“It is. I have some nice wines from the local vineyards but this one came from my father’s collection. The Georgetown house has a wine cellar. I brought the best bottles with me—there’s no point in wasting good wine.”

She grew silent, and Reid wondered if she was think
ing of Bliss again and what had happened inside her family residence the day before. When he’d returned from town, using the key and security pass code Caitlyn had given him to get inside, she had already gone up to shower. But the living room television was on and turned to a news station. Clearly, she’d been searching for the latest information on her friend’s abduction.

Caitlyn accepted the glass Reid handed her. Self-consciously, she ran a hand through her damp hair. “You must be tired of seeing me like this. My hair wet and no makeup.”

“I think you look perfect.”

In the room’s subdued lighting, her green eyes appeared mossy and gold-flecked, her skin porcelain. Reid sampled his wine. He was no connoisseur, but even he could admire its velvet texture and slightly peppery taste. He pulled out a chair for her and they sat at the dining table.

As they ate, Reid steered their conversation away from the investigation. Instead, they talked of the equine therapy program and the organic garden Caitlyn grew from spring until fall. Apparently, selling the produce—as well as hormone-free beef and chicken—to some of the upscale restaurants in the Northern Virginia countryside had become a fairly profitable sideline.

“I guess I was hungrier than I thought,” Caitlyn admitted as she finished off the plate of linguine Reid had dished out for her. “Or maybe it’s just the company. I appreciate not being alone tonight.”

Reid reached across the table, his fingers lightly
clasping hers. He wanted to ease the sadness he saw in her eyes. After a few moments, she gently withdrew her hand.

“Would you like more wine?”

“Thanks, but I’d better pass.” Although he wasn’t officially working, he intended to stay alert. “You should have some, though.”

He picked up the bottle and refilled Caitlyn’s glass. In another life, they would probably never know each other, he realized. She had been part of the D.C. political elite, the power brokers, while Reid was in many ways a public servant, called to serve and protect.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“Just that the one good thing that’s come out of all this is seeing you again.” Reid felt the need to be honest with her. “I never forgot you, Caitlyn. Not your beauty or your bravery. You made an impression on me.”

She bowed her head, toying with her fork at the edge of her plate before speaking.

“I was attracted to you during the first investigation,” she confessed. “I had a fiancé, but I still felt something…”

She stared into the crimson liquid in her goblet, not looking at him. “I wonder sometimes if I gave in to you—if I helped find evidence against Joshua—only because of that attraction.”

“Caitlyn,” he murmured, pausing until she raised her eyes to his. “I think you would have done the right thing, regardless. You’re a good person. I’ve seen that. I
do
see that.”

Her lips parted slightly, and her gaze was soft. The forged-bronze chandelier over the dining table cast golden highlights onto her hair. Spending the past few days with her, Reid believed he had almost gotten used to her physical presence. But at that moment he felt charmed by her all over again. After several seconds, she slowly scooted back her chair. “I should get things cleaned up.”

Reid stood the same time she did. “Let me help.”

“It’s okay. You picked up the food, you should…” Caitlyn stopped speaking as he stepped closer, until they stood mere inches apart. Taking the plate she held and returning it to the table, he placed his fingers under her chin and lifted her face to his. Her chest rose and fell with her shallow breathing.

She lowered her lashes as Reid slowly bent his head, his mouth tentatively touching hers. The kiss began sweetly, chastely, then deepened as she slid her palms up his chest, her arms looping around his neck. He moved his hands to the slight curve of her hips, pulling her closer to him.

He needed her, needed this
. Caitlyn’s small, round breasts pressed against his chest as his mouth tasted hers more deeply. The wine on her lips and tongue was a heady sensation. If they went much further, he feared there would be no going back.

Breaking their kiss, Reid cupped the delicate curve of her jaw. She looked breathlessly up at him, her pupils large and dilated, her still-damp hair framing her face. Who he was and who she was didn’t matter to him in
that moment. Reid walked her backward with deliberate steps, until the small of her back pressed against the granite counter of the butler’s pantry.

“Reid,” she whispered unsteadily, his name a gentle yearning on her lips. His mouth came down on hers again, this time firmer and more demanding as he lifted her easily onto the edge of the counter. Her legs slid apart, making room for him so they were pressed more intimately together. His heart thudded as his hands slid under her skirt, pushing it higher as he grazed the silken skin of her thighs.

God, he wanted her. Caitlyn’s head fell back as Reid’s lips moved to the slender column of her throat. His hands grew bolder and he skimmed the lace edge of her panties, slipping a finger under the elastic. He was rewarded with Caitlyn’s soft moan of approval. She was wet, hot. Her fingers kneaded his shoulders, then caressed the back of his neck.

“We should go upstairs,” she murmured, panting against his ear. “We should—”

The doorbell rang, followed by a series of raps on the front door. Caitlyn froze as Reid groaned, pressing his forehead against her collarbone. He tried to bring his breathing under control.

“Caitlyn, honey?” The doorbell chimed again as a male voice called from the porch. “I’m here to check on you. Let me in.”

“It’s my neighbor, Rob Treadwell,” Caitlyn said. “My car’s outside. If I don’t answer—”

Reid had left his SUV at the stables.

He sighed and backed away from her. His legs felt a little wobbly. He went into the kitchen to calm himself as Caitlyn scooted down from the counter, smoothed her skirt and went to the foyer. In the kitchen, he ran cold water into the basin and splashed it onto his face, then plucked a paper towel from a holder. With a deep breath, he picked up his holstered gun from the table and clipped it back onto the waist of his jeans before returning.

“I heard about the abduction at the house in Georgetown. And about the attack on you,” he overheard the man say. He was tall and large-boned, with salt-and-pepper hair and wire-rimmed glasses. Reid recalled seeing him once before on an earlier visit.

“They’re saying there’s a copycat. Sophie was a wreck when she couldn’t get you on your cell phone.”

“I’m sorry,” Caitlyn responded. “I haven’t been up to returning calls just yet. Please tell her not to worry.”

“I’ve been trying to reach you, too, sweetheart.” He stepped closer and laid a hand on her shoulder, then slid it down to her upper arm. Caitlyn stiffened a little. She turned as Reid made himself known. Her skin was attractively flushed, and her lips appeared slightly swollen from their kisses.

“Rob, this is Agent Novak with the FBI. Reid, my neighbor, Robert Treadwell.”

The man appeared surprised by Reid’s presence, but he quickly recovered and moved forward to shake hands. “I didn’t realize you had company, Caitlyn. Or is this official business?”

“I’m staying at the farm for a couple of days, until we can get some security worked out for Ms. Cahill,” Reid explained.

“So you’re her bodyguard?”

“Something like that.”

Rob placed his hands in his trouser pockets and gave him an evaluating gaze. “I have to admit I recognized you from the Capital Killer investigation, Agent Novak. The original one, of course. I followed it closely. But I haven’t heard your name in any of the news reports on the copycat case so far. Instead there’s been a…” He snapped his fingers, searching for the name.

“Agent Tierney,” Reid supplied. “He was part of the first investigation, as well.”

“But you’re not the
lead
this time? That is the proper terminology, isn’t it?”

“Rob,” Caitlyn chided gently.

He gave a small laugh. “You’ll have to forgive me. I’m naturally inquisitive and all this cops and serial-killer stuff fascinates me. My wife’s always teasing me about watching the true crime channel.”

“Where
is
Sophie?” Caitlyn asked.

“She’s at home. I was on my way back from a business meeting in the District and thought I should stop by to check on the place. I didn’t expect to see the lights on and your car outside.”

“Thank you for checking, but I’m really fine,” Caitlyn said. Her voice sounded a bit strained. “Please tell Sophie I’ll call her soon.”

“She’s going to want you to come for dinner.” He
patted Caitlyn’s arm. “And we won’t take no for an answer the next time.”

He bid good-night to them both, then left through the foyer. Caitlyn locked the front door after he’d left the porch. They stood in silence until they heard Rob’s vehicle start up and disappear down the driveway.

“Interesting guy,” Reid said.

“They’ve been good neighbors. Rob’s a very successful architect and Sophie writes children’s books.”

“But they’re not good neighbors now?”

“Why do you say that?”

Reid shrugged, observing the rigidity in her shoulders and the way she’d crossed her slender arms over her chest. “You just seem a little tense around him, that’s all.”

Caitlyn hesitated, as if deciding what to say. “I’m not sure, but I think he might’ve made a pass at me last week.”

“You’re not sure?”

“Maybe I misread his signals and he really is just being protective of me. But since then, I haven’t felt comfortable. His wife is a good friend of mine.”

Reid didn’t ask for specifics. He could see Caitlyn’s concern was genuine, and he’d noted that the way the man touched her seemed overly familiar. He made a mental note to check into Treadwell through the FBI database, just to be sure there wasn’t anything in his background. Regardless, his unexpected arrival seemed to have thrown water on the fire that had been nearly out of control between Caitlyn and himself.

Maybe it was for the best, he rationalized despite the disappointment he felt. Caitlyn had mentioned her fiancé—the one who’d ended things with her during the first Capital Killer debacle. Reid had been engaged for a while, too. But Andrea had faded from the picture when he became ill. If there was a chance he was sick again, he didn’t need to bring Caitlyn into something like that. He had a feeling if they truly came together, it wouldn’t be a one-night stand. Caitlyn wouldn’t let him down.

Caitlyn went into the bathroom to prepare for bed, unable to stop thinking about what had happened earlier. Her mind was preoccupied with the way Reid had touched her and her white-hot response to him that so clearly illuminated her need.

Neither of them had brought up their romantic interlude, however. Once Rob was gone, Reid had built a fire in the stacked-stone hearth, then left Caitlyn to watch television while he made some phone calls in the kitchen. When he returned, he had kept a careful distance, sitting in the wing chair instead of on the couch beside her.

She wondered if he again regretted what had happened.

At least she’d been with him a solid twelve hours and there had been no recurrence of the debilitating headache she’d witnessed the previous night. She had planned to talk to him about it again, hoping the time spent together would encourage him to open up to her.
If there
was
anything to open up to her about. Caitlyn stared at herself in the mirror, unsure. Then she picked up the hand brace from the vanity and sat on the toilet’s closed lid, balancing the cumbersome device on her thighs so she could attach the Velcro straps.

The noise coming from somewhere inside the room was barely audible—a faint, mechanical whirring sound. Caitlyn looked around, wondering what it was. But it just as quickly disappeared. She stood with a sigh, moving back to the vanity to brush her teeth, but stopped in midstep. There it was again.