Page 43 of Fight or Flight
Finally, Katherine thought—someone who understood why she’d decided to lock herself away where no one would find her.
“I watched the news, saw when he was captured. But the lives they took and ruined . . .” Katherine shook her head. “Maybe had I . . . I don’t know, paid closer attention to the guy, I would’ve noticed the backpack he carried. An eight-year-old child was killed. I have nightmares about it, about what his family went through, and what all the people saw. I was a coward. Still am. I’ve been hiding away all of these years, fearing I . . . I’m not sure, maybe fearing the police would know what I did—rather what Ididn’tdo—and that they would arrest me.”
Doc spoke up. “This is why you don’t want the police here? Listen up, kiddo. You are not to blame for anything. You’ve lost some of the best years of your life because of their actions. Survivor’s guilt. There is nothing you could’ve done to prevent that tragedy.”
Katherine nodded. “I realized that a long time ago. Being able to control my life as I have keeps me safe. Physically safe. Calling the police scares me. Reminds me of that nightmare.”
“You’re a smart woman, K. Do you believe whoever was in your house tonight has anything to do with those bombings?” Doc stared at her, his blue eyes penetrating like two shards of ice. He was no longer the jovial old guy with a big smile and a twinkle in his eyes.
“No, I don’t,” Katherine finally said.
Picking up where Doc left off, Ilene took charge. “Then you will let us call the police? I know a few folks on the local force. They’re discreet. Just say the word, and I will make the call. I don’t believe your intruders are related to what happened in Boston, either. I still have a few sources in Boston, too. When the time is right, I’ll help you.”
“Go ahead, Ilene—call them. I just don’t want my identity revealed. Is there a way around that?” Katherine pleaded.
“Lie,” Ilene said.
“Everyone knows there’s a ‘crazy lady’ who lives in the house on the mountain. How do we get around that?” Katherine asked.
“How do you know that?” Tyler asked her.
Embarrassed, yet knowing she couldn’t keep it to herself, Katherine spoke the truth. “I read the community events website. They have a chat room.”
“The people who post on that website are folks who thrive on others’ miseries,” Tyler said. “Just gossip for lack of anything better to do.”
Katherine didn’t know if he included her in his assessment of “folks with nothing better to do.”
“I’m not including you in that, Katherine,” Tyler said, as if reading her mind. “I know you have other . . . projects that keep you occupied.”
“I do, and I’m not one of those that spend all their free time looking for gossip about people I don’t even know.” That was a lie. Katherine cyber-stalked the girls on her Friendlink page. She wouldn’t bring the topic up, as she didn’t know if Ilene knew who she really was. Katherine needed to get Doc alone for a minute so she could find out. “Doc, can I speak to you alone?” she asked.
“Sure, kid,” Doc said. “The kitchen?”
“Fine,” Katherine replied. Then to Tyler and Ilene she said, “Excuse us, please, for a minute.”
In the kitchen, Doc leaned against the kitchen island. “What’s so important that we have to be alone?”
“Does Ilene know what I do? The book stuff?”
“No, I gave you my word,” Doc told her.
“Should I tell her? Can she be trusted?” Katherine asked. She didn’t know Ilene. She only had Doc’s word where the former CIA agent was concerned.
“With your life, K. She’ll have your back. Trust me on this. She’s everything she appears to be and more. A little rough at times, but she was good at what she did.”
“All right, then I want her to know.”
Returning to the dining room, they found Tyler and Ilene speaking in low tones. Was there something either of them didn’t want her to hear? Katherine wondered.
“Ilene, I have to tell you something about myself that I think you should know,” Katherine began.
Ilene nodded, her sharp-angled hair swinging from side to side. “Okay, spill the beans. I’m all ears.”
“Do you know the author K.C. Winston?” Katherine swallowed, despising herself for making this sound as though she were someone special, worthy of all their promises.
“I’m not much of a reader. Who is that?” Ilene asked.
“Me. Katherine Celeste Winston.”
