Case File: Canyon Creek, Wyoming. Paula Graves

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      Riley didn’t wait for the rest of his sentence, pushing past Joe and heading back to Hannah’s room. He didn’t see a guard outside her door, or any other door lining the corridor.

      His heart rate climbing, Riley pushed open the door to Hannah’s room and almost bumped into the guard standing just inside. He was a slim man in his early twenties, with crow-black hair and sun-bronzed skin. He was laughing as he turned to look at Riley.

      Riley pushed past him, putting himself firmly between the guard and Hannah. “Are you okay?” he asked her, keeping his eyes on the guard, whose brow furrowed at Riley’s question.

      “I’m fine. Charlie was just introducing himself, since he was going to be my babysitter.” Humor and annoyance tinted Hannah’s whiskey drawl. “I was just telling him I’m thinking of digging a tunnel out.”

      Riley arched an eyebrow at the guard. “Shouldn’t you be frisking me or something? Checking my ID?”

      Charlie looked suitably crestfallen.

      “He’s messing with you,” Hannah said. “Riley, leave him alone.”

      “Go stand guard outside and don’t let anyone in without checking ID,” Riley told the younger man, his tone firm. Charlie quickly obeyed.

      Riley turned to look at Hannah, who still sat in the chair by the window. Her knees were tucked up against her chest, her chin resting atop them as she gazed at him with sleepy green eyes. He felt a funny twisting sensation in his gut. “You look wiped out.”

      “Always with the compliments,” she said around a yawn.

      “Your doctor says you want out of here.”

      “Ya think?”

      He managed a smile at the crack. “There won’t be any flights out before 8:00 a.m. What do you plan to do, camp out in the airport where you don’t know a soul?”

      “I’m camped out in a hospital where I don’t know a soul. At least at the airport I wouldn’t be wearing a cotton smock with an open back.”

      There was a quiet knock on the hospital-room door, and a moment later, Joe Garrison and Jim Tanner entered, followed by one of the Teton County evidence technicians holding a notebook computer.

      “Trammell here has a copy of the only security-camera footage available,” Tanner said, motioning for Trammell to set up the notebook computer on the over-bed table at the foot of the hospital bed. “I want you to watch and see if anyone looks familiar.”

      “I didn’t get a good look at him either time.”

      “You can at least eliminate people by body type. It can’t hurt.”

      Riley and Joe gathered around the computer as Trammell hit play. Riley felt a prickle of warmth down the left side of his body and turned to find Hannah sitting closer to him, like a kitten curling up next to a heat source. The mental image amused him.

      He reached behind her to grab the blanket wadded near the foot of the bed and caught a glimpse of golden skin peeking out the back of her hospital gown.

      She smiled her appreciation when he tucked the blanket around her, then turned back to the computer. “What are we looking at?” she asked Trammell.

      “This is the front entrance.” Trammell pointed to a pair of glass doors center frame. “We asked for everything from about an hour before you arrived to the time you called the nurse’s station around 1:00 a.m.” He pointed to another button. “Click that button and it’ll fast-forward the images. Click that one and it’ll pause the image.”

      It was easy to fast-forward the video; about half the visitors could be eliminated by their sex, others by age or build. Hannah stopped the video three times, but each time she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

      Riley frowned, something on the video catching his eye. “The hell?” He reached across and hit the pause button, then touched another to reverse the video.

      “What is it?” Hannah asked.

      “I’m not sure—” He saw the flicker again and hit pause.

      “Oh,” Hannah said, her voice tinted with surprise.

      On the screen, the tip of one dark boot was visible just past the edge of the mottled carpet in front of the lobby door.

      “Well, hell.” Tanner grimaced at the screen.

      “Someone tampered with the recording.” Riley looked at Joe, whose blue eyes had darkened.

      “Son of a bitch,” Jim Tanner growled.

      “How did he manage that?” Hannah asked.

      Riley laid his hand on her shoulder. She gave a little trembling jerk, turning her head to look up at him. He gave her shoulder a squeeze and felt her relax under his touch.

      Tanner released a deep sigh and turned to look at them. “Inside job?”

      Joe nodded. “Probably. It’s where I’d start looking for sure.”

      “But why would someone who worked here want to hide his image? It’s not like it would raise an alarm,” Hannah said.

      “Unless they tampered with the image to throw us off,” Riley countered. As convoluted as that possibility sounded, he wouldn’t put it past their target to be just that devious.

      “I’ll get a list of all the personnel, then. Security, medical staff, sanitation, the whole lot.” Tanner clapped his technician on the shoulder. “Trammel, I want the original footage sent to the crime lab in Cheyenne. See if those fellows can get anything out of it.”

      Trammell nodded, grabbed his computer and left.

      Tanner looked at Hannah. “I think you’re right, Ms. Cooper. It’s not a good idea for you to stay here tonight. I can set you up in protective custody here in Jackson—”

      Hannah turned and looked at Riley. “You said I’m the only one who ever got away.”

      “That we know of,” Riley agreed.

      “I’m the only one who’s seen him.” Her voice softened even more. She moved away from them, toward the window, her arms wrapped around her as if she felt a sudden chill. The movement spread the back of her hospital gown even wider, baring more of the golden skin on her back and the sweet curve of her bottom beneath the cotton of her pale-blue panties.

      Riley felt a flutter low in his belly and clamped his teeth together, surprised by his body’s traitorous response. He cleared his throat and glanced at Joe and Jim Tanner. Both men were looking at him rather than Hannah’s pretty backside, which made him feel like even more of a slug.

      “Have you talked to her doctor?” Joe asked Tanner in a faint murmur. “What are the chances of her getting back more memories of the attack?”

      “Nobody knows,” Tanner admitted. “Head injuries СКАЧАТЬ