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Authors: James Patterson
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shallow dive,
but his wife claimed he never dived into the pool.
He had talked to three other associates of McDonough at Boulder Community Hospital. He’d also called in a favor from a good
buddy at Quantico. McDonough’s name was being run against every doctor working in the area around Boulder. He was looking
for solid connections, which was about all he could realistically do on his first day in town.
Kit had just gotten back from Boulder, when he spotted Frannie’ O’Neill hiking in the woods behind the cottage where he was
staying. It was almost five in the afternoon.
Frannie looked nervous and distracted. Of course, he didn’t know her very well, but that was the impression he had.
Now where the heck was she going?
She was moving quickly: a woman on a mission. What mission, though? He thought it might be worth checking, and he had nothing
better to do for another hour or two.
She was wearing khaki shorts and a red-plaid flannel shirt, and he couldn’t help remembering how she’d looked the night before.
That image was still burned into his mind. A pretty picture, so maybe he didn’t want to let it go too easily.
He followed Dr. Frannie through the woods at a safe distance. She never looked back, but she did appear to be looking for
something. Actually, she was moving so fast he finally lost sight of her.
Damn it.
He lifted a pair of Rangemaster binoculars to his eyes. He searched everywhere for Frannie O’Neill. Images jumped, giving
him extreme close-ups of pine bark, the shapes of leaves, a patch of blue sky.
He finally spotted the red-plaid shirt again. She was still trekking at a fast pace through the woods, a bright blue knapsack
on her back, an intent look on her face. She was preoccupied, oblivious to his own tiptoe through the woodlands. Or was she?
What the hell was she doing out here? Did it have anything to do with her husband’s work? Or possibly with his death? Or Dr.
McDonough’s?
She took a sharp right fork around a bend.
Don’t go that way, Frannie. Shit! Shit!
She’d disappeared into the pines, aspens, and scrub oaks again. Fifteen minutes following her over hill and dale had already
taught him not to give up the high ground. He continued
upward,
hoping she would appear below him.
Seconds later, he saw Frannie O’Neill come into view again. Late-afternoon sunlight spilled onto her face. She was definitely
pretty; a real midwestern beauty, and he liked that. Her blue-green eyes sparkled in the light, and continued to search for
something.
The narrow path she’d been sticking to widened, then it branched onto a wider dirt road. A dirt road to where? Was something
important out here? Another building? Maybe a lab hidden in the woods? Did Frannie O’Neill work there?
She trekked on, even picked up the pace. She really moved through the woods, didn’t she? She knew her way?
Kit thought he could hear traffic now. He was almost sure of it.
“What the hell? Traffic up here?” he mumbled under his breath.
The dirt path opened out to the back of a macadam parking lot! The lot was a dark rectangle behind a small town market. It
appeared that she’d taken a shortcut through the woods to Clayton. She was in the next town over. What was she doing?
Kit watched in mild disbelief as she stopped near a flat rock at the edge of the woods. She unhitched her blue knapsack and
flipped it open. She started taking out small boxes, cans, paper items, and setting them on the ground.
“What in hell is she doing?” He didn’t get this at all. It made no sense.
He refined the focus on the binoculars. He looked closely at the contents of the knapsack. He could even hear Frannie’s voice
drifting up to him. He liked the melodic sound of it, even under the mysterious circumstances.
“Party!” she called.
Party? Party for whom? Party for what? This was no time for a party!
“Come on, kiddies.”
Kiddies?
Children?
As he watched, she emptied cans of
but his wife claimed he never dived into the pool.
He had talked to three other associates of McDonough at Boulder Community Hospital. He’d also called in a favor from a good
buddy at Quantico. McDonough’s name was being run against every doctor working in the area around Boulder. He was looking
for solid connections, which was about all he could realistically do on his first day in town.
Kit had just gotten back from Boulder, when he spotted Frannie’ O’Neill hiking in the woods behind the cottage where he was
staying. It was almost five in the afternoon.
Frannie looked nervous and distracted. Of course, he didn’t know her very well, but that was the impression he had.
Now where the heck was she going?
She was moving quickly: a woman on a mission. What mission, though? He thought it might be worth checking, and he had nothing
better to do for another hour or two.
She was wearing khaki shorts and a red-plaid flannel shirt, and he couldn’t help remembering how she’d looked the night before.
That image was still burned into his mind. A pretty picture, so maybe he didn’t want to let it go too easily.
He followed Dr. Frannie through the woods at a safe distance. She never looked back, but she did appear to be looking for
something. Actually, she was moving so fast he finally lost sight of her.
Damn it.
He lifted a pair of Rangemaster binoculars to his eyes. He searched everywhere for Frannie O’Neill. Images jumped, giving
him extreme close-ups of pine bark, the shapes of leaves, a patch of blue sky.
He finally spotted the red-plaid shirt again. She was still trekking at a fast pace through the woods, a bright blue knapsack
on her back, an intent look on her face. She was preoccupied, oblivious to his own tiptoe through the woodlands. Or was she?
What the hell was she doing out here? Did it have anything to do with her husband’s work? Or possibly with his death? Or Dr.
McDonough’s?
She took a sharp right fork around a bend.
Don’t go that way, Frannie. Shit! Shit!
She’d disappeared into the pines, aspens, and scrub oaks again. Fifteen minutes following her over hill and dale had already
taught him not to give up the high ground. He continued
upward,
hoping she would appear below him.
Seconds later, he saw Frannie O’Neill come into view again. Late-afternoon sunlight spilled onto her face. She was definitely
pretty; a real midwestern beauty, and he liked that. Her blue-green eyes sparkled in the light, and continued to search for
something.
The narrow path she’d been sticking to widened, then it branched onto a wider dirt road. A dirt road to where? Was something
important out here? Another building? Maybe a lab hidden in the woods? Did Frannie O’Neill work there?
She trekked on, even picked up the pace. She really moved through the woods, didn’t she? She knew her way?
Kit thought he could hear traffic now. He was almost sure of it.
“What the hell? Traffic up here?” he mumbled under his breath.
The dirt path opened out to the back of a macadam parking lot! The lot was a dark rectangle behind a small town market. It
appeared that she’d taken a shortcut through the woods to Clayton. She was in the next town over. What was she doing?
Kit watched in mild disbelief as she stopped near a flat rock at the edge of the woods. She unhitched her blue knapsack and
flipped it open. She started taking out small boxes, cans, paper items, and setting them on the ground.
“What in hell is she doing?” He didn’t get this at all. It made no sense.
He refined the focus on the binoculars. He looked closely at the contents of the knapsack. He could even hear Frannie’s voice
drifting up to him. He liked the melodic sound of it, even under the mysterious circumstances.
“Party!” she called.
Party? Party for whom? Party for what? This was no time for a party!
“Come on, kiddies.”
Kiddies?
Children?
As he watched, she emptied cans of
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