“Ali, baby, its Erik,” oh, yes that voice sounded familiar. Douche bag was back. I note his name too. Sneak was going to be busy tonight. “Open the door sweetheart.”
“Mr. Scott, please let us speak with her,” the suit says. Yeah, douche bag, back the fuck off! “We need to assess her mental state, especially if what you’ve told us is true.”
“What do you mean if?” Erik screeched stepping into the man. “She was kidnapped.”
“Sir, please, step aside,” one of the uniformed officers steps in between Erik and the detective. Erik moves back reluctantly, his eyes dark and angry. The officer pushes him back further towards the stairs, further still down to the cruisers without laying a finger on him. The detective whispers something to another officer standing by. He straightens and heads toward the cruisers as well. Detective Edwards turns back to the door and knocks again.
“Alice, it’s Detective Sean Edwards again. Your husband is worried. He claims you’ve been kidnapped. Mrs. Scott, I am here to help. Please open the door and we can talk.”
My heart is pounding in my chest. Husband? Kidnapped? My eyes swing to the closet behind me. Something didn’t add up here and Detective Edwards needed to be clued in. There is no way this woman was kidnapped.
Erik’s words replay in my head. I know she’s afraid. She better be. It’s open season. He wasn’t a man worried about a kidnapped wife. He was a man who’s been denied his play toy. He took a chance going to the police with this bullshit story though.
I step toward the door and softly speak two words to the woman in my closet before cracking open the door. “Trust me.”
A uniformed officer stands guard at my door, his back to me. He quickly turns and steps into my line of sight, “Sir, please go back inside and close your door.”
“She left,” I say but the uniform doesn’t budge.
“Sir, this is police business. Go back inside your-”
“She’s gone,” my voice louder interrupting him. Detective Edwards hears me this time and he turns.
“What was that?” he looks over at me, his eyes briefly resting on the uniform. “Franks, let the man speak.”
“She’s gone,” the officer moves aside and I step out of my room further, leaving the door slightly ajar. I don’t want them to think I have anything to hide.
Detective Edwards hold up a photo. “Is this the woman you are referring to?”
The woman in the photo is a few years younger but it’s her. Instead of blonde, her hair is a deep shade of sable brown, shiny and healthy. Her lips are full, pink and upturned into a breathtaking smile. Dark eyes stare back at me, filled with joy. Her body is stunning in a two piece swimsuit. Curves in all the right places, everything a man would desire. The woman hiding in the closet is a fraction of the woman staring back at me.
“Her hair is blonde now,” I nod. “She left though, soon after douche bag’s first visit.”
“First visit?” he asks, stepping towards me. His interest piqued, concern etched onto his face.
“He was here earlier today,” I flick my head in Erik’s direction. “He wasn’t very nice though. Banging on the door, cursing up a storm and making threats because we wouldn’t let him in. He said some pretty disturbing things to her though, don’t know if she heard him or not.”
“Mr. Scott claims his wife was kidnapped,” I could see the wheels turning. He doubted the man’s story even more. I’d bet my left nut Erik hadn’t told him about his earlier visit.
“He never mentioned a kidnapped wife and he didn’t act like a man distraught. I’ve never had a missing wife though,” I cross my arms and shrug.
“What’s your name?” the detective takes out his notepad and a pen. I had to tread lightly here.
“Hudson Rivers,” a few of the officers snicker, but I’m used to it. My parents had a sense of humor when it came to naming my siblings and I. “I’ve been here since last Tuesday.”
“Have you seen Mrs. Scott come and go?”
“Yes, she checked in a day after me, alone. A single bag. No car. She leaves alone and arrives home alone. She’s quiet.”
“A bag?” he asks lifting an eyebrow.
“Yes, a small duffle,” I verify. “She doesn’t look like a woman who’s been kidnapped to me.”
“Have you seen a kidnapped woman before?”
“No, I haven’t,” I know he’s only covering his bases but I still find his questioning annoying. Cops are taught to be suspicious of everyone until the evidence proves otherwise. It was a necessary vice.
“How long ago did she leave?”
“I’d say twenty or thirty minutes after he left,” I answer calmly. I could sense that he is a no nonsense cop and he has his head about him. He knows Erik is lying and he is buying time trying to figure out how to play his cards. He needs more to go off of. “I heard the door to her room open and close, saw her walk down the stairs with her bag.”
“Did she stop at the office to check out?”
“Not that I saw, she was in a hurry though. She kept looking over her shoulder,” I wasn’t exactly lying. I had seen her leave in a hurry on a daily basis. I had seen her looking over her shoulder. I had seen her carrying her bag with her. Just not today.
“Have you spoken with her?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Mr. Rivers what bring you to our fine city?”
“I’m here on business.”
“Business?” he lifts an eyebrow. He doesn’t believe me. “What is it you do for a living Mr. Rivers?”
“Detective, am I under investigation here?” I ask reaching into my pocket to pull out a card. I hand it to him. He looks down at it, his eyes widen in surprise. He looks up at me and finally he turns toward the officers standing at his back.
“Have the manager bring the key up. We need to get into the room,” the officers walk away. Detective Edwards turns toward me.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“I get the sense that you are a good cop Detective, so I’ll give you a bone,” I move further from my door and pull Edwards away, lowering my voice as we walk. “Erik, her so called husband, is lying. He’s not looking for a kidnapped wife because she hasn’t been kidnapped. She’s running, from him. The woman is a fraction of the photo you showed me. My guess, abuse and a lot of it.”
“Did she leave Rivers?” he nods toward my room. He’s asking if I lied about seeing her leave. I wasn’t on his radar anymore, in fact he knows I’m one of the good guys. The card I handed to him said as much. My clearance through his boss’ boss. I made it a point to get local support on these types of cases.
He’s genuinely concerned but I can’t say anything. She hid in my closet instead of asking for help from law enforcement. She had to have seen the cruisers in the parking lot below. I can’t say anything more to him, not until I get to the bottom of all this myself. Edwards might be a good cop but I didn’t know him well enough to trust him.
“I don’t know exactly what you’ll find in her room but I do know she isn’t in there,” he nods.
An officer approaches with Roland in tow. The old man isn’t too happy to have the police crawling all over his parking lot. His dislike is obvious, cops are bad for business.
“Detective, the name on the registration is Jane Doe,” the uniform stops at the door and waits for Edwards’ instructions.
“Roland says she checked in alone, pays daily for her stay, never has visitors and keeps to herself.”
I move back towards my door and stopping just at the opening.
“Bring the husband up here,” Edwards barks. The uniform nods and heads back down. “Roland, were you the one who called earlier about a disturbance?”
The old man nods with a glint in his eyes.
“Was Mr. Scott the reason?”
Roland nods again, “He came into the office spouting off about how his woman locked him out of their room.”
“Did he ask you for a key?”
“He did,” h
is gaze flicks my direction weary of where the detective was headed with this line of questioning. “I was just about to unlock the door when Hudson stepped out of his room.”
“Do you usually open other people’s rooms for strangers?”
“Uh, well, no,” Roland sputtered his face turning red. “He wasn’t exactly kind about his request.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“Well, no.”
“His name isn’t on the registry,” Detective Edwards steps toward Roland. “The woman he is looking for, her name isn’t on the registry either.”
I felt sorry for Roland. Detective Edwards is about to hand him his ass.
“I-I’m not sure what you’re getting at-”
“Not this son of a bitch again,” Erik’s voice cuts Roland off again.
The officers tense, preparing for a possible physical altercation. I shift, blocking him from seeing past me and into the room. Edwards notices my movement but says nothing.
“Mr. Scott,” the detective’s voice is strong and authoritative. Mr. Nice Cop is gone. Erik paid him no mind, his beady eyes remain on me. “Do you know this man?”
“This is the asshole that kept me from-” he stops suddenly, his eyes grow wide and he clamps his mouth shut. His gaze shoots to the detective, who is smirking at him. He hadn’t told them about his visit earlier.
“Go on,” Edwards smiles. He’s goading him now.
“I’ve never seen this man before in my life,” Erik squawks but it’s too late. Edwards nods and the uniform take out his cuffs.
“Mr. Scott you are under arrest for falsifying information to the police,” the uniform says, he continues to read Erik his rights.
“This is outrageous, my wife has been kidnapped and I’m the one being arrested?” Erik sputters as the uniforms escorts him back down to the cruisers. Edwards turns back to Roland.
“Unlock the door please, or do I need to get a warrant?”
Roland doesn’t hesitate. He quickly slips the key it into the lock and opens the door. Detective Edwards walks into the room and turns on a light. Roland and I follow cautiously behind him. The yellow glow from the outdated lamps illuminates the room.
There wasn’t any trash anywhere. There wasn’t any clothing hanging in the closet or tucked away in the dresser. There weren’t any wet towels hanging in the bathroom. Besides an unmade bed, you’d never guess someone lived here for a week.
I didn’t know what to expect but this was something else entirely.
“Detective, no one is here or has been here for some time,” the uniform called Franks says from the center of the room.
Damn, she’s good at covering her tracks, I think knowing she was only here moments ago.
“So it seems,” the detective mutters, raking his hands through his hair. “Take Mr. Scott down to the station. Something isn’t adding up. He’s hiding something.”
I nod in agreement but look away because I have the answers waiting for me in the back of my closet and I can’t tell him.
“Roland, the woman staying here, has she checked out?”
“Not formally,” he shuffles towards the man, holding out his hand. A set of keys matching the ones he used to open the door sat in his palm. “I found them on the counter shortly before you arrived. I already told your officer before I came up here.”
Edwards nods and chews his bottom lip. He shifts on his feet and crosses his arms. The key, which was similar to mine, collaborated the story I’d given to Edwards about her departure.
“Rivers, are you going to be in town much longer?”
“I head north tomorrow.”
“Can I persuade you to stay longer in case we need you for questioning?”
“Can’t, my job depends on it,” I answer cautiously, hoping he’d catch the meaning behind my words. I was heading north but not because of my job. The next leg wouldn’t happen for at least another month. I had been instructed to head underground until I’m contacted. Apparently I pulled some heat off the big man, which was a good thing, but now it was their turn to protect me. The last thing I needed was to be seen walking into a police station.
He nods.
“You’ve seen this woman. She’s running again and if she’s running from him, I need to stop him now,” he peers over at me. I look around, we aren’t alone. I can’t give him the words he’s wants to hear. It is too dangerous.
“I’ll give you my contact information,” it was the best I could do. I take his paper and pen and write down my number.
“Roland, next time someone wants in a room, I suggest you check your registry before attempting to open a door for them,” the motel manager grunts in response. Edwards looks around the room again and sighs. “Let’s roll out.”
The room empties out quickly and Roland locks up. I walk back to my room and cautiously open the door. The room is still dark, the closet door still closed. I close the door and slide the lock into place.
Chapter 3
Alice
The soft click of the door closing jolts me back. I’d lost myself into the world of thought when they hauled Erik away. The relief was almost instant but I knew it wouldn’t last for long. This wasn’t the first time he’s been arrested.
“You’re safe,” a familiar masculine voice says low and soft. My body responds instantly, melting into the warm tones. It was the same voice that asked for my trust before he stepped out onto the breezeway with the police and Erik.
Erik. He came back. I knew he would but I didn’t think he would go to the police. It was a big risk on his part, one that’s now backfired. I’m sure he thought the police would side with him or out think them.
The first cruiser pulled into the parking lot just as I was placing the key to my room on the counter of the office. Roland had stepped out back for a smoke. The officer in the cruiser hadn’t seen me and I took advantage of the moment to creep back up the stairs toward my room. There was no other choice but to go up, unless I wanted to be seen. I made it to my door only to remember I hadn’t picked the key back up. Cursing at myself I realized I only had one option. I knocked on his door out of desperation. I honestly didn’t think he’d answer but it was worth a shot. When he opened the door I didn’t hesitate to push my way into the room, just as two more cruisers pulled into the lot. Thankfully our rooms were the exact same layout, just flipped. I headed straight for the closet.
I waited for him to haul me out and throw me to the wolves. He didn’t, he protected me.
“They’re gone,” his voice brings me back, it’s even and calm. “Are you hungry? I have an extra sandwich.”
I hear a plastic bag rustle, “Ham and cheese.”
My stomach growled. Loudly. I place my hand over it. I hadn’t had a full meal since yesterday and the small granola bar I had early this morning kept the hunger pains at bay. I couldn’t afford to eat more than once a day if I planned on leaving soon. I needed every dime I made for bus fare. The more money I have, the farther I can run.
I move closer to the door separating us, knowing I can’t hide in here forever. It was a nice concept but unrealistic. He’d kick me out sooner or later. I hear him move closer as well but he’s careful not to come too close.
“They took him in for questioning,” I gasped, as his words penetrate. “The officer in charge, Detective Edwards, he’s a good guy. I spoke with him about what happened earlier, and the story Erik told him doesn’t add up. He was already on the fence but now he knows something is up. They’ve arrested Erik for providing false information.”
They really arrested Erik.
I hang my head and silently send a prayer to keep him behind bars. I know it’s unlikely though. I’ve been down this road before. Erik always manages to find a way out. I have to get going while the opportunity presents itself, while he’s locked away.
I push the door open and peer out. The room is bathed in the soft glow from a decades old lamp on matching pieces of furniture. The entire motel is dilapidated and is need of som
e serious renovations, not that I’m complaining, the price was right for the budget. Sure the olive green carpet had probably seen better days and I wouldn’t chance walking barefoot on it, but it was nothing compare to the crumbling yellow and orange retro wallpaper. I’ve seen worse places and I had to look on the upside of things, this motel didn’t smell nearly as bad as the one in Tulsa.
My eyes find him sitting on the floor at the end of the bed. He’s watching me, curiosity burning behind his blue eyes.
Damn, he’s a sight.
His faded blue denim shirt is unbuttoned halfway revealing a broad chest sprinkled with dark hair. Just enough to make me want to reach out and run my fingers through it. His shirt is untucked but rolled at the sleeves, revealing sinewy forearms. His large hands are clasped in his lap, casually, showing how completely at ease he is with my eyes taking him in. Long denim clad legs are crossed at the ankles. The jeans tight in all the right places, even sitting I can see they fit him well but also gave me a good sense of just how tall he is. He’s also barefoot.
Hudson.
My eyes make their way of the length of is seated body, appreciating the maleness seeping from every pore of his body. Damn, he was even more gorgeous the second time around. When my eyes reach his face, I hesitate to meet his gaze, afraid of what I meet see. He looks at me with more than curiosity, his own observations of me being made.
His dark brown hair is unruly and in desperate need of a trim. The urge to run my fingers through his curls is strong, it frightens and excites me at the same time. His jaw is firm and set, covered lightly with a day or two of whiskers, rugged, like he belonged in some expensive clothing ad. In a word he looks, delicious.
Hudson.
I move further into the doorway, careful to keep my sweater tucked around me. The years I’ve spent with Erik have left me shredded and insecure. My clothing was nowhere near the shield I longed for to hide what this man stirs inside me. I’m nothing compared to the Adonis before me. I cast my eyes down out of habit and wait for instructions.
“Are you hungry?” he points to the bag next to him. My stomach growls again. He smiles and slowly pushes the bag toward me. I fight the urge to grab the sandwich and inhale it in one bite.
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