Free Season of Storm by Sellers Alexandra Page A

condition is said to be stable. He is the president and CEO of St. John Forest Products."
    The report hadn't changed since the noon newscast. It was the next-to-last item on the afternoon news, and when it was over, Smith leaned back and gazed at Johnny Winterhawk, who sat behind his desk in silence.
    "They keep saying the same thing," she said. He had made her stay with him all day, mostly in his study while he worked. She was trying to focus on a novel.
     "What the hell does 'stable condition' mean?" she muttered.
    "It means he isn't better and he isn't worse," Johnny Winterhawk replied.
    "Isn't better and isn't worse than what? We haven't had any real news out of that thing all day."
    They were in the kitchen making supper together when all that changed.
    "Police were called to the bedside of lumber baron Cordwainer St. John at the Royal Georgia Hospital late this afternoon," was the first thing they heard, and Smith dropped her knife and rushed to bend over the radio. Johnny Winterhawk followed.
    "The president of St. John Forest Products, who was rushed to the hospital early this morning suffering from a heart attack," the announcer said, "has informed police that he was awakened in the early hours of the morning by five masked men, when he suffered a heart attack and lost consciousness. He regained consciousness as he was being put into an ambulance, but did not remember anything of the circumstances surrounding his attack until late in the day. His daughter, Shulamith St. John, an executive of St. John Forest Products, is missing, he told police. An RCMP spokesman said that they are looking into the possibility that she may have been kidnapped. No ransom demand has been received."
    As a slow-talking officer made a brief statement Smith and Johnny Winterhawk stared at each other over the radio. Winterhawk cursed briefly under his breath, and she reached out and gripped his wrist.
    "Let me go," she pleaded in a low, intense voice. "Let me go now and I'll lie, I won't tell them anything, I promise. I'll say I was away—"
    "No," he interrupted firmly. He broke her grip and turned away.
    "Can't you see you're just making it worse?" she begged, following him back to the counter where he calmly picked up his knife and continued to chop an onion. "I could tell them I went out, that I wasn't there when it happened. They would never find you."
    "Unless you told them how," Winterhawk said dryly, looking sideways at her.
    "But I wouldn't! That's what I'm telling you, that I wouldn't! And you—"
    "Why not?"
    The abrupt question startled her. "What?" she asked.
    "Why not?" he repeated in a reasonable tone. He turned to face her. "If I let you go I have no hold over you. What's to prevent your telling the police the truth as soon as you're free?"
    Smith paused only momentarily. "I would give you my word," she said.
    He laughed. "What loyalty do you owe me that would make you inclined to keep your word?"
    "Well, I...."
    In the silence that fell after her voice trailed away Johnny Winterhawk turned back to the counter and resumed chopping.
    He was right. There would be no reason for her not to tell the police the truth. He couldn't let her go now. But then....
    Smith drew in a small frightened breath as she saw the truth. "But when can you let me go?" she asked. "When can you ever let me go?"  
    Johnny Winterhawk crossed to the very modern stove console and scraped the chopped onion into a frying pan. It sizzled and spat into the silence, and Shulamith's voice climbed a notch toward panic.
    "Kidnapping is a criminal offence." She pursued the thought to its relentless conclusion, her heart thumping in her ears. "No matter when you let me go my testimony could put you in prison. So if you don't trust my word, you can't ever let me go. You have to keep me here forever—or kill me." His back to her, Johnny Winterhawk stirred the onions in silence. "Have you thought of that?" she demanded shrilly.
    "Yes," he said, "I've thought of