Free Sidney Sheldon's Reckless by Sidney Sheldon Page A

a hedgehog trying to shuffle across the M40.”
    â€œI’ve improved.” Hunter sounded wounded. “I did have a little help from my fellow countrymen. At the beginning.”
    Through her drunken haze, Sally read through the lines. “You mean, you were there? In the Bratislava camp?”
    â€œI was there,” Hunter confirmed.
    â€œAnd they left you behind?” she asked, incredulous.
    â€œNot exactly,” Hunter admitted. “I made a run for it.”
    Sally slid down the wall and sat on the floor. “What? Why?”
    â€œIt’s a long story.”
    A torrent of emotions rushed through her. The strongest was relief that Hunter was alive. He’d broken her heart into a million tiny pieces when he left her for that slut Fiona at the New York Times . But even Sally didn’t want to see pieces of his skull flying through the air like poor Bob Daley’s.
    Hot on the heels of relief was excitement. The whole world was out there looking for Hunter Drexel and speculating about his fate. And she, Sally Faiers, was on the phone with him, listening to him tell her that he’d run from his American rescuers—that President Havers’s statement had been an out-and-out lie! Talk about a scoop!
    Reaching up, she grabbed a pencil and pad from the hall table.
    â€œWhere are you?”
    â€œSorry,” said Hunter, sounding nothing of the sort. “Can’t tell you that.”
    â€œGive me a clue at least.”
    â€œAnd you can’t tell anyone about this phone call either.”
    Sally laughed. “Fuck off. This is front-page news. The minute you hang up I’m calling the news desk.”
    â€œSally, I mean it, you can’t say anything.” Hunter’s voice was deadly serious all of a sudden. “If they find me they’ll kill me.”
    â€œIf who finds you?” Sally asked.
    â€œNever mind that now,” Hunter cut her off. “I need you to do me a favor.”
    It was astonishing how quickly relief could turn to anger. “In what alternate universe would I do you a favor?” Sally asked.
    â€œI need you to do some digging for me,” Hunter said, ignoring her. “You remember the Greek prince who was found strung up at Sandhurst?”
    â€œSure. Achileas. The suicide. Hunter, you aren’t seriously telling me you’re working on a story right now? Because . . .”
    â€œI don’t think it was suicide,” Hunter interrupted her. “There’s a senior officer at Sandhurst, Major General Frank Dorrien. I need you to find out anything you can about him.”
    Sally paused. “You think this Dorrien guy murdered Prince Achileas of Greece? Are you on drugs?”
    â€œJust look into it,” Hunter said. “Please.”
    â€œTell me where you are and I’ll think about it,” said Sally.
    â€œThanks. You’re an angel.”
    â€œHey, I didn’t say yes! Hunter?”
    â€œYou’re breaking up.” He started making ridiculous, crackling noises down the phone.
    â€œI am not breaking up. Hunter! Don’t you dare hang up on me. I swear to God, if you hang up now I’m gonna call the CIA right this minute and tell them about this call. Every word. And then I’ll run the story in tomorrow’s Times .”
    â€œNo you won’t,” said Hunter.
    He hung up.
    Sally Faiers sat naked in her hallway for a long time with the phone in her hand.
    â€œFuck you, Hunter Drexel,” she said aloud.
    You ripped my heart out. You utterly betrayed me. And now you expect me to sit on the biggest story of my career, and quietly go out and do your dirty work for you on some wild-goose-chase, bullshit story at Sandhurst?
    â€œI’m not doing it,” Sally shouted down the empty hall of her flat. “Not this time.”
    But she already knew that she would.
    HUNTER HUNG UP THE pay phone and stepped out into the howling wind.
    How he wished he