Waking the Dead Part 4

"He went to Eugene for copper tubing. We're having trouble with the hot water in some of the rooms."

"Always something." He flicked a glance at Cait. "Ms. Fleming's business won't take long. I can stick with her, if that makes you feel any better."

The woman sent one last uncertain glance toward Cait before saying, "Well, I don't know what Gil would think of me letting a stranger wander around the springs with the guests, but I guess it's okay if you stay with her."

Something lightened inside him when he registered Cait's expression. Although arranged into a bland polite mask, he was willing to bet that beneath it she was seething. "I'll make sure she doesn't bother anyone."

"Mona." The desk clerk trying to get the older woman's attention grew more insistent, and she threw a glance over her shoulder.

"I'll hold you to that, Zach." Her attention returned to them, and she noticed the brochures he was holding. "Oh, I can use some of those. We're down to our last few." She sent him a genuine smile as he handed the pamphlets over. "We always get rave reviews from the guests who sign on for one of your tours."

"And I appreciate you steering them my way. You go on and take care of things at the desk." He nodded toward the college-age girl who looked to be getting more frantic by the moment. "We'll be all right."

"Thanks, Zach." Mona hurried away to handle whatever crisis her employee was dealing with, and he turned to Cait, correctly interpreting the killer expression in her eyes.

"Not exactly a trusting soul, is she?"

He turned and headed for the doors, and she matched him, stride for stride. "Maybe not. Or could be she just knows trouble when she sees it."

"What trouble are you referring to?" Far from the temper Zach had bet she'd been feeling earlier, Cait's voice was curious. "Me? Or the case?"

A wise man knew when a question was loaded. That one was about as innocent as a minefield. Expertly, he skirted it. "Well, discovering seven human skeletons is hardly the norm around here." He headed back toward the Trailblazer. He'd have to park it in the lot before they headed out toward the springs. "No one wants to look out his window and wonder if his neighbor is the one guilty of murdering people and stashing them in a cave."

"No one said anything about murder." Her objection sounded automatic as she got in the vehicle and he pulled around to the parking lot.

"You don't say much," he agreed, wondering why he found that so irritating. Normally he considered that a bonus in a woman. It was vexing to recognize that he had a healthy share of interest in what she wasn't saying. Only natural, seeing as he was the one who'd found the bodies.

It'd taken Mona's statement to tip him off that Cait was interested in the hot springs. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out why.

"The sheriff's office is keeping this whole thing pretty quiet." Unless one counted Tony Gibbs blowing off at Ketchers over beer and pool every night. Zach knew better than to believe everything he'd heard the deputy had been saying, but he couldn't help but think Andrews would have a fit if she knew she had a leak in her department.

He pulled into an empty s.p.a.ce in the lot and turned off the ignition. "The fact is, this place has been crawling with media since those bones were pulled out of the cave. Andrews isn't giving them much, so they come sniffing around McKenzie Bridge, Blue River, and every other nearby town in search of gossip. There's always plenty of speculation in the absence of facts. I'd think she'd want to lay some of it to rest by releasing more information."

There was a slight frown on Cait's face, but she said only, "Sheriff Andrews is handling the press. She's probably waiting to establish more details before deciding what information to release to the public."

And what not to release. Zach knew how the game was played. He got out of the Trailblazer and slammed the door closed. Waited for Cait to do the same before using the remote lock. They'd keep something back, maybe something only the killer would know. Play a cat and mouse game with the suspect until they painted him or her into a corner.

It had nothing to do with him. Nothing to do with his business in Eugene. Unless he counted the fact that he was forced to spend way too much time away from it doing Andrews's bidding.

And more time than was wise in Cait Fleming's company.

He nodded at the couple headed toward their car, parked close to the Trailblazer. The woman gave her male companion a sharp elbow jab when he stared at Cait so long he nearly ran into the b.u.mper of a car. Slanting a look at the female by his side, Zach found her with her head down, studying the soil maps again, seemingly oblivious.

Everything inside him jeered at the thought. There was no way a woman who looked like her, one who'd made a career posing for the cameras, was unaware of the effect she had on people. Men especially. When folks around here got a load of her, the bones found in Castle Rock weren't going to be the only source of gossip circulating in the area. And since he was going to be glued to her side for the duration, that meant that he'd get dragged into the talk, just by default.

The thought brought a scowl to his face. Like he'd said before. She was trouble. "Springs are this way." He paused impatiently as she veered in his direction to join him.

"How big a place is this?"

"Gil and Mona have over forty-five acres of gardens." Once she'd reached his side he started walking rapidly again, waving an arm toward the grounds Jim kept in showcase condition. "I think there's five or six miles of walking trails."

"And the Willamette National Forest all around us." The roar of the McKenzie River grew louder as they walked, though there were only glimpses of it through the heavily wooded area on its banks. "Nice place to get away."

"They do all right." He'd take the solitude of Whispering Pines any day over a place like this filled with desperate tourists fleeing the city. But for those who didn't have access to their own piece of heaven on earth, this resort was a nice little slice of it.

"There are rooms in the main lodge, a few cabins and cottages, and sites for RVs and tents."

Unerringly he headed into the forest toward the springs. And despite his better judgment, fell into tour-guide mode. "There are more hot springs in Oregon than any other state in the country. It sits on the Ring of Fire, a volcanic belt that circles the Pacific Ocean."

"Which also gave birth to the Cascade Mountains."

He shouldn't be surprised. She had her head buried in a map most of the time they were together. "There's superheated igneous rock and molten magma beneath the surface here. We still have a few active volcanoes. With all the rainfall we get, all it takes is a basalt fissure to release thermal flows into a natural hot tub. Belknap is a good example, but I prefer the less-developed springs myself."

"Because there's fewer people around," she guessed shrewdly.

He skirted a hollowed-out rotted log. "People are overrated."

"And yet important in a business that demands customers to survive."

"A necessary evil." He stopped for a moment to allow the garter snake in his path to finish its journey to the jumble of rocks at the base of a white pine before continuing on. "We sell river and hiking sporting equipment, too, so we're not all about the tours. But they allow me to do what I love most, so it's a trade off." And times spent with days full of chattering tourists made his solitary hours on the river or in the Willamette all the more precious.

Falling into silence, he led the way through the forest surely. It wasn't particularly dense in this area. Zach knew Mona and Gil kept the underbrush trimmed to allow their guests freedom to wander. And the path to the hot springs was a well-worn one. He could easily head back to the vehicle and let Cait do her thing. The fact was, that action held no particular temptation. The curiosity he felt about her purpose here was unusual enough to have well-worn defenses slamming into place. He didn't want to wonder about her. He didn't want to think about her, period.

But that didn't make it any easier to banish the questions that swarmed his mind like pesky flies. He just couldn't quite wrap his mind around the contrast of her former and current occupations. His natural cynicism reminded him that for many, their careers were often owed to who they knew and who they blew.

Unfortunately, that particular visual image of Caitlin Fleming wasn't one easily banished from his mind.

With a muttered curse, he stepped aside and waved an impatient hand. "There are the hot springs up ahead. Looks like you won't be alone." There was a solitary occupant in the pine tub, a man in his midthirties. Unlike some of the more rustic settings for springs in the area, this one had a dress code, so the guy probably wasn't nude.

Cait brushed by him and stepped down the rocky incline leading to the springs while he took up position leaning against a towering pine. He observed the exact moment the guy in the tub noticed he had company. And he'd have to be blind to miss the immediate interest in the man's expression when he caught a look at the woman approaching him.

"Down, cheesed.i.c.k," Zach muttered. But the guy was too far away to hear him, which was probably a lucky thing. Because he had no business warning men away from Caitlin Fleming. The woman was probably better versed than most in how to get rid of unwanted male attention. If it was unwanted.

Zach's gaze shifted from the guy in the tub back to her. Cait had reached the bottom of the slope and was scanning the ground. She appeared to be looking for something. But even he was surprised when she dropped to her hands and knees, seeming to examine the water's edge where it lapped up against the rocks.

"Did you lose something?"

The pine tub constructed for tourists intent on soaking in the springs was several yards upstream. The man inside it seemed to have lost interest in the sulfuric water in light of the newcomer. He'd risen and was peering over the side at Cait, placing his back to Zach.

"I can help you look, if you want."

"I'm fine, thanks." Cait's voice was businesslike. She'd gotten to her feet again and was walking slowly around the area, still studying the ground intently.

"Water's great. There's plenty of room if you want to join me."

Zach smirked. As pick-up lines went, it was fairly transparent. And it didn't even warrant a response from Cait. She was on all fours again, this time with her pack beside her. Pushing away from his stance against the tree, he took a few steps closer to see what she was up to. But the next few moments provided no real answers. Why would she be collecting soil samples from the area?

Cheesed.i.c.k was getting out of the tub now and making his way carefully over the rocks to join Cait, still talking. "Whatsa matter, don't have a suit? I won't tell. There's just the two of us, anyway. I promise, if you come in for a soak, it'll be a whole lot more fun than-what're you doing there, anyway?"

"Please stay back." The authority in her tone had the man pausing, and Zach's gaze narrowed consideringly. He watched as she swiftly scooped up dirt with what looked like a tiny trowel and placed it in plastic containers, carefully labeling each.

"You're much too beautiful to be messing in the dirt. Why don't you come on over here and mess with me instead?"

Zach rolled his eyes. But his mood abruptly darkened in the next moment when the man made a grab for Caitlin's arm. She deflected his grasp easily enough by throwing up a forearm and stepping aside. Pushing away from the tree, he was striding toward the couple before he had the conscious thought to move. "You about done down there, Cait?"

The guy froze, his eyes widening at the sight of Zach. "Ah . . . I was just asking her if she needed any help." He gave a weak laugh, his gaze moving between the two of them and back again. "I see now that she doesn't so I'll just . . . ah . . ." He jerked a thumb back toward the tub and inched away.

Zach simply stared until the guy flinched a little. "Yeah. Why don't you do that?"

Cheesed.i.c.k started to turn but got no more than a few steps before he slipped and began to fall backward. Swiftly Cait took a few steps in the stream toward him and caught his arm to steady him, but the momentum of his fall had her losing her balance, as well. She went down hard on one knee, bracing herself with one hand in the water, but managed to keep the guy semi-upright until he regained his footing.

"Geez, I'm sorry. Really. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Cait was on her feet again, wiping her hand on the leg of her jeans.

The guy had turned to her once again, his expression sheepish. "Now you're wet, after all." He nodded to her half-soaked pant leg. "I've got a towel up by the tub."

"I'm okay." Her tone was polite, but she was already making her way back up the slight embankment.

Cheesed.i.c.k looked like he was about to say something else, but then he happened to glance Zach's way again. "Well, thanks again." He made his way carefully back toward the tub, where hopefully sheer embarra.s.sment would have him thinking twice before tossing lame lines at the next woman who happened by. Zach wondered if the man was capable of realizing that the female he'd just tried to accost likely could have kicked his a.s.s with very little effort. He'd gotten off lucky.

Cait appeared to have already forgotten about the incident. She was back on her haunches taking more soil samples and carefully labeling each clear container before moving several feet away to repeat the process.

Zach found a nearby fir to prop his shoulder against and prepared to wait. And to wonder what hot springs had to do with the skeletons he'd found in that cave.

"Where to next?"

"Terwilliger is closest, isn't it?"

Without answering he nosed his Trailblazer out of the Springs Resort parking lot and headed out of town. Since there wasn't a d.a.m.n thing to do except drive her around and watch her, he kept his mind busy trying to figure out just what the h.e.l.l she was doing. She hadn't just taken soil samples in various areas around the springs; she'd waded in, too. Not taking water samples. Just looking.

Problem was, since answers weren't forthcoming, he'd settled on just looking, too. At her. It sure as h.e.l.l was no hardship.

She didn't exactly downplay her looks, but she didn't do a lot to call attention to them, either. Her hair was usually pulled back like today, discounting the time she'd loosened it to taunt him. Her casual clothes hadn't been selected to turn heads. Trouble was, she was the type to turn heads regardless, and he couldn't quite figure out whether she was just used to it so didn't pay it any attention or whether she just didn't give a d.a.m.n. Given her att.i.tude, he was beginning to suspect the latter.

He lifted a hand to return Jodie Paulsen's nod of greeting as the man wrestled a trough into the back of his pickup. Probably had had the thing welded again for Tim Jenkins, the farmer Jodie did ch.o.r.es for. Most people would have bought a new feed trough years ago, but no one pinched a dime tighter than the miserly Jenkins.

As he headed toward Highway 126, he noticed the woman beside him swiping her hand down the leg of her jeans. And the streak it left behind.

"What'd you do?"

With one eye on the road, he leaned over and opened up the glove box. Grabbing a handful of fast-food napkins, he shoved them at her before closing the compartment again.

"Sc.r.a.ped it on a rock helping that idiot out of the water."

One side of his mouth kicked up at her irritated response, but the smile faded when he glanced over again. "Jesus, don't bleed all over my car." Though she'd wadded up the napkins against the wound, it was oozing too fast to be a mere sc.r.a.pe.

"Nice bedside manner, Sharper. Ever consider the medical field? You'd be a natural in a trauma."

Sarcasm he could handle. And it almost, almost pushed aside the images her words had conjured.

The blast of the explosion flinging them backward. The horrible realization that the body parts raining down all around him came from Drummy and Simms.

And Becker . . . there'd been nothing left of Becker but pink mist.

He kicked that mental door shut and brought himself back to the here. The after.

The napkins were doing little to staunch the flow. After a brief hesitation he slowed, pulled over to the shoulder, and put the vehicle in park. "Let me see."

He half expected to see little more than a scratch, even with the copious amount of blood staining the napkins. But the wound in her palm-a palm she relinquished only grudgingly-was about two inches long, and deep. "You did this when you helped cheesed.i.c.k?"

"Cheese-" Her lips quirked. "Catchy. And oddly fitting. Yeah. I slapped a Band-Aid over it under my glove so I could finish up my samples. But I could use some Steri-Strips." She looked at him hopefully. "You don't happen to have any in your bag, do you?"

"You need st.i.tches," he said flatly. More Band-Aids would be useless, and that's about all he had in the first aid kit in his pack. "I think there's a physician's a.s.sistant staffing the medical clinic here most days."

"That'll take hours. Just find me a store where I can buy Steri-Strips, and we can be on our way."

He sat contemplating her, ignoring her discreet tugs to release her hand. It occurred to him that he should have noticed her injury sooner. But after a while he'd just focused on not watching her. Seemed smarter that way.

Reaching a decision, he put the Trailblazer into gear and checked the mirrors before pulling a U-turn to head back into town. "The General Store isn't going to have what you need. Maybe you can talk the PA out of st.i.tches, but the clinic is the only place to get what you need."

"I'm not going to the doctor."

The words sounded like they'd been issued through gritted teeth. Ignoring them, he turned at the corner and drove the two blocks west to the small boxlike building that held the town's clinic. And uttered an oath when he saw the overflowing parking lot.

"Like I said, I'm not wasting the rest of the day. Just forget it." She was bent over the bag she had wedged between her feet and was rummaging through it with her good hand. "I can rig something else up that'll work until I get back to Eugene this evening."

"You need to wash the wound out." Years of experience had taught him the wisdom of avoiding infection. The obvious solution occurred, was firmly rejected. He had what she needed at home, but everything inside him rebelled at the thought of taking her there. Guests were rarely invited. And by no stretch of the imagination did Caitlin Fleming qualify as that.

"I've got some sanitary towelettes in here somewhere," she muttered, her head still bent over the bag. "Just head over to Terwilliger. We've wasted enough time already." She pulled a small wrapper from her pack, ripped it open and removed a couple moist wipes. As she pressed them to her palm, they immediately darkened with blood.

Deliberately, he headed for the highway again. The gash was on the fleshy part of her palm. The wound would ooze heavily, but it wasn't like she was in danger of bleeding out, for cris sakes. If it wasn't important enough for her to want to see a doctor, why the h.e.l.l should he waste time worrying about it?

There was a rustle of paper. He flicked a glance in her direction and saw her taking her wrapped sandwich out of its plastic bag and filling the bag instead with the b.l.o.o.d.y napkins and wipes.

"s.h.i.t," he muttered. There wasn't a conscious decision. He just found himself turning off at the next corner. Heading for the isolated drive a couple miles down the road that would lead to his heavily wooded piece of property.

And he tried to ignore the clutch in his belly that warned him he was about to make a very big mistake.

"This is your house?" Vaguely stunned, Cait opened the door of his Trailblazer to jump out and stare up at the ma.s.s of angled cedar and gla.s.s. The drive to this place had to have been at least a mile long, every inch of it lined with trees that canopied overhead. No fewer than three times Zach had had to get out of the Trailblazer to unfasten a chain blocking the way. It didn't surprise her that he was a man that didn't relish company.

But this surprised her. The home looked like it would pa.s.s for a small hotel itself, surrounded by thick stands of firs and junipers as far as the eye could see. There were no curtains or shades at the windows that she noted. Why would he need them? With the woods surrounding him, privacy was practically guaranteed.

"It was my grandfather's property." His voice was brusque as he headed toward the house at a rapid clip. She could tell he was already regretting bringing her. "There was a resort here at one time, before it burned down when I was a kid. He left it to me and I'm rebuilding, on a smaller scale."

Belatedly, she noted the signs of construction in progress. The four-car garage lacked doors, and lumber and power tools were stacked neatly inside. As she followed him up to the planks that served as a walkway to the house, she noticed that only the front had the polished glazed cedar siding, while the other sides were unfinished. There was far more to be done here, but what was completed was nothing short of magnificent.

And about as far removed as possible from what she would imagine for him.