grumbled, “you’ll be well paid. All of you.”
“Yes, this bee business must take off,” Mary agreed. “The most important thing we need to do is hire the right person.”
May 25
Cari finished packing. She was still in Mill Valley, having never gone back to her loft for fear that Dirk might be there, waiting for her. A cold feeling overcame her as she zipped up her second suitcase. The last weeks had been unending, brutal stress. Law enforcement had not found Dirk. She knew they wouldn’t because he was so cunning and a primal animal with the survival instincts of one.
Her fingers trembled as she closed the zipper. She was a mess. She was hunted. And Dirk would murder her as easily as he had killed his girlfriend. Straightening, she tried to get herself together. She was flying to Silver Creek Airport in Wyoming. Her résumé had been chosen for an in-person interview with Chase Bishop, owner of the Three Bars Ranch, who wanted to hire someone with her credentials. Nothing in her résumé hinted that Dirk was hunting her. Conscience pricking her, she wondered just how desperate she was to hide from him. Scared enough to involve people who knew nothing of her private life? How could she, if she was hired, put all of them at risk? Dirk would stop at nothing to take her down. He’d kill whoever stood in the way of getting to her. It was plain wrong not to tell her possible new employer.
Why hadn’t she said something when she talked to Mrs. Mary Bishop last week? It was a long, exhausting, and searching phone call. And after that, Theresa Sandoval, a third-generation beekeeper, called her, delving deeply into all aspects of beekeeping to the last detail with her. Obviously, the ranching family wanted to make sure she was more than just paper credentials; that she knew the ins and outs of hive management in all four seasons, the health of a hive, and so much more.
Shaking her head, Cari knew she had to tell Mr. Bishop the truth. The whole truth. And she was sure when she did, he would scratch her off the list of applicants to hire, in a hurry. No one wanted a murderer endangering the people around their ranch or harming their employees. Turning, she looked at the cell phone. She should call him now. They were, after all, paying for her roundtrip flight.
Torn, she sat on the bed, leaning down, hands hiding her face. Her whole life had been upended. Desperate to disappear, Wyoming seemed the most remote, the last place Dirk would think to look. It was hell to be stalked.
Something told her that Chase Bishop would understand. But what did she expect him to do? She had enjoyed her chat with Mary, a spunky older woman who owned a hugely popular grocery store in Silver Creek. No, she couldn’t do it, but what should she do? She’d start out the in-person interview with the truth. And then, the cards of her life would fall where they may. She had enough money saved up to reimburse Mr. Bishop for the round-trip flight and would immediately do so. Honesty had served her all her life and she wasn’t about to start by lying or hiding important life-and-death information from him. No one deserved to be blindsided.
May 26
Chase waited impatiently at the small regional airport for the passengers to disembark. Outside the large, clean windows of the airport lounge waiting area, the sky was a light blue, the sun shining brightly. It was a beautiful May morning.
On his cell phone was a photo of Cari Taylor. By anyone’s imagination, she was stunningly beautiful, seeming to have more a model’s figure to go with her shining black hair that was loose and free around her shoulders. Maybe it was her cinnamon-gold-colored eyes that entranced him so much, or those long, thick black lashes that framed them. She wore absolutely no makeup, but she didn’t need any. He’d gone over her very impressive résumé. His mother told him he had to hire her. She was that sure of Cari. Having Theresa Sandoval’s thumbs-up approval on this woman made him feel less worried about the possibility that she would be a female version of Court. Theresa swore this woman knew beekeeping inside out, upside down, and right side up. Chase didn’t want another twenty-thousand-dollar loss. His ranch was solvent, doing well, but taking hits like that was deadly to his bottom line and