Caitlin rolled her over the head rest and let it fall against Keith's shoulder.
'Remember this, Stringfellow Hawke, fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice.'
"I love you both very much,"
Caitlin heard herself say the words, but when did she do it and whose voice threatened Hawke. Why couldn't she understand? What was. . .
Her head shot up from Keith's shoulder and Caitlin opened her eyes. It was dark outside. How long had they been driving and where were they now? More importantly, how was she going to let anyone know where she was?
"Leave her at the next hospital. Hawke will never find her."
She looked around to see who had said that. No one but Keith was in the car with her.
"What's wrong, Angela?" Keith was asking her.
Instead of answering him, she said, "Where are we?"
Keith explained that after leaving the underground garage they just drove until she fell asleep and he kept driving. Now it was dark outside and he didn't know where to go next.
"Go home, Keith. Take us both back to the house." Where all of this would end, Caitlin knew.
Keith nodded, put the car in reverse, and turned around. Caitlin wasn't sure where Keith had driven them too, but it took close to an hour to get back to his house. For all the press outside the Dunstan building, the house was unusually quiet.
Keith let Caitlin into the house where a maid stood in the foyer staring at them.
"What is it, Rachel?"
"The phone has been ringing constantly, sir. I finally took it off the hook."
Keith helped Caitlin with her coat. "That's fine, Rachel. You can take the rest of the night for yourself. Thank you." The maid gave them a smile and left.
Caitlin followed Keith into the living room where a fire blazed hot, instantly warming both of them. "I don't understand what happened." Keith said as he fell onto the sofa. "I wanted to run the business the way my grandfather did. I wanted to prove that Hollis Dunstan left the right people in charge of his company and now," He picked up the late edition of the paper with both their faces on it and then threw it down. "I don't know what happened, Angela."
Caitlin handed him a drink she poured for him moments earlier and watched as he drank it and then set the glass down on the newspaper. "I think you know exactly what happened, Keith. I think you should go to the police with everything you've done."
"I've done," He stared up at her with a distraught look. "All I've done is make sure that countries were given clothing, food, and fresh drinking water just like my grandfather did when he was alive. We gave money to build bigger homeless shelters and funded goodwill trips."
"You also sent weapons and drugs with the crates that were going overseas. The money given to build homeless shelters was rerouted to an off shore bank account for who knows what reason, and there are no goodwill trips planned in the near future. You did all that, Keith."
Keith stood to his feet. "No, I didn't." He snapped. "My grandfather's legacy was to help people not hurt them. I have no idea what you're talking about Angela."
"I found reports on your computer about illegal shipments going overseas to the same countries the food and clothing were going to. What are you doing, Keith?"
Keith threw his hands in the air and stood up. Caitlin took a step back. "Evidently, I don't know what I'm doing because I'm not the one doing it."
Caitlin was about to rebut his statement when a loud pop made her jump and she saw Keith fall back onto the sofa. Blood soaked his shirt. Caitlin whirled around to see Kyra standing in the doorway of the living room. She had changed from her work clothes into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Her red hair, which was down earlier was now slicked back into a ponytail. She held a pistol in her right hand. Smoke curled from the barrel.
"Kyra," Caitlin said almost breathlessly. She looked back at Keith. "It wasn't Keith. It was you."
Kyra came into the living room; the gun still aimed perfectly at Caitlin. "If we're going to start throwing blame around, let's start with you breaking into the computer." Kyra made a wide berth around Caitlin to get to Keith. With a gloved hand, Kyra touched her brother's neck and sighed.
"He was supposed to go down for all this if it blew up in my face. That's why I had everything on his computer. The money for the drugs and guns would have been traced back to him." Kyra withdrew her fingers and returned her attention to the gun and to Caitlin.
"My grandfather wanted everything so perfect." Kyra's ponytail swayed back and forth as she bobbed her head. "When he died, I knew my chance was coming to make something good happen for me. The Dunstan Corporation was the perfect front and the donations would have rolled in. Oh, well," She glanced back at Keith's dead body. "I can work with this as well. Murder suicide should suffice."
Kyra pulled the hammer back on the gun and Caitlin heard the click.
The click.
'Remember this, Stringfellow Hawke, fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice. . .'
"Cait, down!" Caitlin heard the voice from behind her and dropped to her knees second later.
Two shots rang out.