The Prettiest One: A Thriller (41 page)

Maybe Bix is right about that,
Caitlin thought, but she couldn’t convince herself that it had been her place to correct the problem. If she had been acting in self-defense, maybe she could live with her actions. Maybe. If not . . . well, she was going to have to live with herself anyway, but it would be a lot harder.

Life was going to get hard soon either way, though. She’d be behind bars tomorrow. In the morning she was taking herself and the video camera to the nearest police station.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHOPS RAPPED HIS KNUCKLES ON the reservation counter of the Eagle Inn Motel. He heard movement in the small back office, then a young woman came through the door sporting a smile far brighter than Chops expected from a motel night clerk, though it faltered slightly when she saw Chops. He wasn’t offended. He wasn’t a good-looking man and he knew it. In fact, some considered him creepy-looking, and that was undoubtedly how the young woman viewed him. He smiled, knowing it wasn’t a great smile, but he hoped it would disarm her. It seemed to work, because her smile regained its former brightness, and she asked, “Looking for a room?”

“Actually, I’m looking for some friends of mine,” Chops said.

“Oh, are they guests here?”

Chops tried for a sheepish look. “I feel like an idiot, but I can’t remember where they said they’re staying. I’m supposed to meet them but I forgot the name of the motel.” He pulled out his cell phone. “I have pictures of them, if you . . .” He trailed off.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry,” the clerk said. “I’m not really sure I can help you. We have to respect the privacy . . . sir, are you okay?”

Chops was fine. He was staring at a piece of paper among other sheets of paper and flyers tacked to a bulletin board on the wall behind the counter. The piece of paper that had drawn his interest was pinned on top of several others, indicating that it had been put there fairly recently. Chops could see the three photos clearly. Two of the faces unmistakably belonged to the redhead and her boyfriend. The third man must be the one the one-eyed guy said was with them. Above the pictures, someone had written in black marker,
Police are interested in these people. Call 911.
Chops pointed to the flyer.

“When did the police leave that?” he asked.

“What?” She turned. “Hmm, I don’t know. It wasn’t here yesterday, though. Maybe it came in earlier today, or tonight before I got on. I only came in half an hour ago.”

As she looked at the flyer, her eyes went wide. And then Chops knew. They were here. He’d found them on his third try. He casually looked around the lobby and saw no security cameras.

“What’s your name?” he asked her.

She turned, her eyes still wide.

“Your name?” he prompted.

“Betsy.”

“They’re here, aren’t they, Betsy? They checked in within the last half hour.”

She nodded. “That one guy did. He rented two rooms.”

“But you didn’t call the police, did you? Because you didn’t see that flyer until just now, am I right?”

“Yeah. I need to call now.”

She started to pick up the phone, but Chops reached over the counter and put his big, pale hand over hers. Gently. She pulled her hand away.

“I’m afraid I lied to you before, Betsy,” he said. “I’m not here looking for friends of mine. I’m a bounty hunter. You know what that is?”

“I think so.”

“I get paid to find certain people the police are looking for. But if the police find them first, I don’t get paid. I need to be the one to bring them in, you understand?”

She nodded.

“Good, that’s good,” he said. He took out his wallet and put five twenties on the counter. “Here’s a hundred dollars. I’ll make a lot more than that when I hand them over to the cops, so I can spare it. All I need you to do is not call the cops.”

Betsy frowned. “Won’t I get into trouble if I don’t call?”

“Oh, you misunderstand. It’s okay for you to call the cops. I just need you to wait until after I get these three suspects into handcuffs. Once I do that, I’ll give you the go-ahead to call the police. All I need is a few minutes. And when the cops get here, I’ll tell them that I followed the suspects here and captured them in their room. You can pretend we never even spoke. That way, you did your duty and called the police. The only difference is that I’ll be the one who gets credit for capturing them, so I’ll be able to get paid. Sound okay to you?” He smiled again and hoped it didn’t creep her out.

“And I’ll be able to call the police? You promise?”

“I
want
you to call them. That way I won’t have to. I’ll be able to keep my eye on my prisoners while you call and tell the cops to meet me here.”

Betsy chewed her lower lip. Chops nudged the money toward her.

“You promise you’ll let me know when I can call them?” she asked.

“If you promise to wait until I give you the word, I promise to let you know when to make the call. It will be just a few minutes, Betsy. I’m really good at what I do.”

After another moment of hesitation, she picked up the money. Chops smiled again.

“What rooms are they in?” he asked.

Bix lay on his back staring at the ceiling. He hated leaving the woman he loved with another man while he went to his own room to spend the night alone. Sure, Caitlin was different than she had been before, he couldn’t deny that. Nor could he deny that he didn’t know Caitlin nearly as well as he knew Katie. But neither could he deny that he still loved her . . . that her departure from his world would leave a gaping wound in his life. He would have given anything for the chance to get to know Caitlin the way he’d known Katie. But that wasn’t going to happen. She was married. Oh, and she was going to be behind bars tomorrow once she turned herself in. He hoped he would at least get the chance to say a proper good-bye in the morning. He wished he’d been able to say a proper good night moments ago.

He heard a soft knock on his door. He sat up, crossed to the door, and opened it. Caitlin gave him a quick, tentative smile and slipped past him into his room. He closed the door and faced her.

Bix wondered if she had sneaked out of her room while Josh was showering or something.

“Does he know you’re here?”

She nodded.

“Did you come here to tell me that you’re forgetting about all that ‘turning yourself in to the police’ nonsense and you’ve agreed to ditch the geek and run away with me?”

“No,” she said, smiling ruefully.

“I didn’t think so. Did you at least give it some thought?”

“Not really, no.”

“Katie . . . Caitlin . . . I know you want to do the right thing. I know you don’t want to live your life on the run. But I don’t want to see you go to prison, not even for a day.”

“I know,” she said.

“You’re gonna laugh,” he said, “but I still love you.”

“I know that, too.”

She didn’t say it back to him. He didn’t expect her to, but it’s not fun to say it and not hear it in return.

“Why did you come over here?” he asked.

She stepped close to him, reached up and touched his cheek, then raised herself up on her toes and touched her lips gently to his for a few wonderful seconds. When she pulled away, she kept her hand on his face a moment longer while she looked into his eyes. Then she left without a word and Bix heard the door close.

She was really gone now. Tomorrow, she’d be in police custody. And if by some miracle she was acquitted at trial months from now, it was Josh she would be going back to. And if she was
not
acquitted, it would still be her husband waiting for her at the prison gates when her time was up years down the road.

Bix was thirty-two years old and he knew without a doubt that the best days of his life were now behind him.

He returned to the bed, lay on his back, and stared at the ceiling, trying not to listen to the muffled voices coming from next door.

Chops looked up at the second floor of the motel from the shadows across the parking lot. The light was on in 206 and off in 207. He wasn’t sure who was in which room. He didn’t know exactly how this was going to work out, other than that just before he made his move, he’d have to go back to the registration desk and kill Betsy. He hadn’t done it before in case someone looking for a room came in before Chops was ready to get started. He had gambled that she wouldn’t call the cops before he told her she could. And even if she did, it would take her a few minutes to screw up her courage to do so and go back on her promise to Chops. She just seemed like that kind of a girl.

Now that Chops had seen the layout of the motel, the position of the rooms next to each other, and where they were located in relation to the stairwells, he was ready to go back and kill Betsy as quickly as he could—she’d seen his face, after all—but only after she had given him duplicate keys to their rooms, or a passkey, or whatever they used here. After she was dead, he would march upstairs and let himself into the dark room first. Hopefully, he’d catch someone asleep, making the kill easier and a lot quieter. Either way, he’d move fast. Before they even knew he was there, he’d kill both men.

But not the girl. No, he wanted her alive.

“How’s Bix?” Josh asked.

Caitlin doubted that he truly cared, but she said, “He’s okay. Thanks for understanding why I needed to say good night to him.”

“Good night or good-bye?” Josh asked.

“Good-bye.”

Caitlin stepped out of her shoes, then unsnapped her jeans. She felt a little self-conscious as she slipped out of them in the brightly lit room, leaving her wearing nothing but her shirt and a tiny little thong, because even though Caitlin had always worn underwear that was conservative yet stylish, apparently she went in for skimpy skivvies when she was Katie Southard. It was all Caitlin had found in the dresser at Bix’s place. As she folded her jeans and laid them on a chair in the corner, she could feel Josh’s eyes on her. Nothing creepy, nothing he hadn’t done literally a thousand times during their life together, but tonight it felt different . . . and not because Josh was doing anything wrong, but because . . . well, she wasn’t sure, but it felt like it might have had something to do with Bix being in the next room.

“You okay?” Josh asked.

She shrugged. “Not really. That was hard to watch a little while ago.” She was deflecting, she knew.

“I’m sorry, honey. I can’t imagine.”

He crossed the small room and took her in his arms. Even though he was her husband, it felt strangely intimate . . . her standing there in nothing but a shirt and a thong. To Caitlin, this would have felt as natural as breathing not long ago. And she had shared the same bed with Josh just last night. But so much had changed since then. Still, Josh was her husband and she loved him, and the weirdness of this kind of contact would fade, she knew. She relaxed into the hug and Josh dropped his arms to her waist. Then his hands slid and came to rest on her nearly naked hips. He pulled back a little but kept his hands where they were. He leaned to the side and looked down.

“You know,” he said, “even though that damn guy next door has a Wild Thing tattoo like you do, and I’ll probably have a hard time for a while looking at yours without thinking of him . . . I have to admit, this is kind of sexy.”