“His sister,” she shot back.
“Ah.”
“You don’t think it’s a good plan?” she countered.
“It’s not my place to make those kinds of judgments.”
She wanted to say she was glad of that. Instead, she tried a friendly, “I’ll let you know how things go.”
“Your report will make interesting reading.”
“I hope so.”
Back at the cottage, Kathryn inventoried the kitchen supplies, then drove to the small shopping center on the grounds to buy some additional groceries. Apparently, Kolb had even suggested that she prepare meals for Hunter. Maybe he’d expected her to back down on menial work, but she didn’t mind a little cooking. In fact, when she had the time, she’d found it was a good way to unwind.
As she circled the parking lot, she mentally reviewed the meeting in Emerson’s office. Really, it was stupefying that he’d allowed her such unrestricted access to Hunter. Either he had enormous confidence in her. Or. . . Or what? She didn’t know.
She deliberately shut off the disturbing speculations as she pulled into a parking space. Instead, she began to think about what foods might trigger Hunter’s memories. Most men liked steak. She’d get that. And they should have ice cream for dessert—and apple pie. She wished she knew what candy bar had been his favorite. If they had CD’s, she’d buy some symphonic works to play on the machine in the living room.
As she headed toward the door, one of the security guards she’d seen in the locker room, the one named Ken Reid, was just exiting the building carrying a sack of groceries.
When he spotted her, he stopped short, causing the man behind him to crash into his back.
Reid turned and cursed. “Watch where you’re going,” he growled.
The other man launched an equally angry retort. For a tense moment it looked as if there might be a fight. Then a guard who had been standing at the door started toward them, and Reid hurried off.
Kathryn took in the little scene with a mixture of anger and resignation, wondering why Emerson staffed this place with jackasses like Reid. On the other hand, maybe he hadn’t handpicked the security men, she thought, trying to be fair. Still, if she had the power, she’d get the man and the others like him detailed to patrolling the compound’s perimeter.
Inside, she showed the temporary card she’d been given to the tall blond woman checking IDs. Apparently, her credentials hadn’t been activated in the computer because the gatekeeper wouldn’t let her enter.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to step into the office,” the woman said.
Kathryn tried to keep the annoyance out of her voice. “I’m in a hurry. I was told I could get some groceries here.”
“We can’t let you through without verification.”
“What’s your name?” Kathryn asked.
“Miss Collins.”
“Well, Miss Collins, why don’t you call William Emerson’s office? I was just there.”
“We don’t call the Chief of Operations about a matter like this. We check with personnel,” the woman said firmly.
“Is there somewhere else I can shop?”
“I believe you’re temporarily restricted to the facilities here.”
She’d pushed that out of her mind. With a sigh of resignation, she took a seat in the small office. Half an hour later, she was impatiently tapping her foot when Miss Collins reappeared, all smiles.
“Sorry to hold you up,” she said sweetly. “Go on in.”
“Thanks!”
By the time Kathryn was finally allowed to make her purchases, she was fighting off the paranoid feeling that the delay was deliberate, although she couldn’t imagine why.
When she arrived back at the cottage, it was already four in the afternoon. Yet it looked much later, she thought, as she eyed the dark clouds filling the sky.