Croft hadn’t realized before just how complicated a “relationship” could get.
But one thing was clear: the more he thought about it, the more he disliked knowing Valley was sitting downstairs in that poor excuse for a safe. And his reasons for disliking the idea had nothing to do with his relationship with Mercy. Instead, they were simple and logical.
If Gladstone was a legitimate collector, there was no problem. But if he was the man who had once called himself Egan Graves, then by now he would know that Mercy was not traveling alone. Gladstone the honest book collector would probably not mind that his dealer had brought along a male companion. Graves, however, would be alarmed.
If he were alarmed, or even merely curious, Valley might be in jeopardy downstairs in that safe. The book would be more secure if Croft removed it from its present location and brought it back upstairs for the remainder of the night.
Croft made up his mind and turned away from the window. He would explain to Mercy in the morning that he had retrieved the book because he hadn’t trusted the night clerk. Any clerk serving time in an out-of-the-way motel such as this one would naturally be curious about anything a traveler chose to put into the safe. Perhaps too curious.
Croft opened the door of his room without making a sound and silently moved down the hall toward the stairs.
Outside in the chilled darkness he discovered the motel’s vacancy sign had been switched off for the night. The lights were also off in the motel lobby. Croft went up to the door and leaned on the bell. There was no echo from within and he assumed the clerk had probably disconnected it along with the flashing vacancy sign. Croft wondered if the motel’s absentee landlord was aware of the minimal level of service available.
Then again, perhaps the landlord didn’t mind. After all, there wasn’t likely to be much traffic through this section of the mountains late at night in the summer.
Croft stepped back from the door, eyed the hinges critically and decided Mercy was right. This was the kind of place where the locks could be neutralized with a credit card.
A minute later he was inside the threadbare lobby, letting the door swing softly shut behind him. The odor of cheap wine assailed his nostrils immediately and Croft suddenly knew what the night clerk did for entertainment in the evenings. A faint snoring from a cot in the corner confirmed his conclusion.
The night clerk was out like a light. An empty bottle of cheap wine lay on the floor beside the cot. Croft made one attempt to shake the clerk awake and gave up in disgust. The guy had obviously found a surefire cure for insomnia. He wouldn’t wake for hours.
Croft crossed the room and stepped behind the counter. The ancient safe stood on the floor of the small office, a hulking shadow in the darkness.
Croft opened only three desk drawers before he found the combination taped to the inside of one. Clearly security was not a major problem in this neck of the Colorado woods.
Chapter 6
Mercy awoke with a racing pulse and a chilled feeling that seemed to be centered in the pit of her stomach.
For a moment she struggled to orient herself. Her mind refused to identify the strange surroundings and the uncomfortable bed for several vital seconds. Two facts were stark in her mind: this wasn’t her apartment and something was very wrong.
Mercy lay still under the covers as the shadows of the motel bedroom gradually took shape. Slowly she regained control over her quickened breathing. This was ridiculous, she thought. She had lived alone much too long to wake up tense and afraid of the dark. Nothing was wrong. She was simply in a strange room. All she had to do was calm down and get her bearings. There was nothing to worry about. Croft was right next door, after all. One small scream would easily penetrate the thin walls.
Sitting up slowly, she clutched the sheet to her throat and wished that Croft were closer. She wouldn’t have minded if he were right there in the room with her. There was something very comforting about the thought.
Her pulse had slowed but still hadn’t returned to normal. What on earth was the matter with her? She wondered. This wasn’t like her.
The faint scratching sound outside her window instantly set her blood pounding again. The cold feeling washed over her. Now, at least, she knew what had awakened her.
It must be a tree branch brushing against the side of the building, she told herself. With a great effort of will, Mercy forced herself to climb out of bed. Damned if she would let herself be terrorized by a tree branch. A single woman living alone couldn’t afford to have anxiety attacks in the middle of the night because of a tree branch.
Mercy marched determinedly toward the window. This sort of thing had to be faced squarely. A woman alone got used to getting up in the middle of the night to investigate odd noises. It was the only way to ensure peace of mind. She would lean out the window locate the troublesome branch and impress her overly active brain with the stupidity of its manufactured fears.
She was less than three feet from the window when the dark, distinctly human shadow glided into view on the other side of the glass.
There was a time for investigating strange noises and a time for being brave. There was also a time to call for help.
Mercy screamed blue murder.
The intruder outside froze as if he had encountered an electrified fence. But he came back to life before the echoes of Mercy’s shriek had faded. The shadowed figure slid rapidly away along the window ledge and disappeared.
The pounding on Mercy’s door sounded seconds later.
“Mercy! Open the door or I’ll break it down.”
Mercy leaped for the door. Croft didn’t make threats, he made statements of fact and she didn’t feel like compensating the motel owners for a broken door.
She flung open the thin door and almost got trampled underfoot as Croft surged into the room. He not only moved very quietly, Mercy thought, he also moved very fast.
“What’s going on?” He scanned the room as Mercy flipped the light switch.
“There was someone outside the window. A man’s shadow. When I yelled, he disappeared.”
Croft was already at the window, shoving it open and leaning out to examine the ground below. “He’s gone. Headed for the trees, no doubt. If he knows what he’s doing he can lose himself in that forest in six seconds flat. Probably has a car waiting near the highway.”
“But what was he doing outside my window? Damn it, he’s getting away. We’ve got to do something, Croft.”
“What would you suggest? That Ι run after him barefoot while he escapes in a car?” He slammed the window shut with a controlled energy that spoke volumes about the level of his physical tension.
For the first time Mercy realized he was wearing only a pair of snug-fitting briefs. As he walked back across the room she saw the fluid slide of muscle under his sleek skin. Hazel eyes gleamed a dangerous gold. Croft was a frustrated predator who had just missed sinking his teeth into his prey.
“Actually,” Mercy said cautiously, “I was thinking of something less ambitious. We ought to call the manager’s office immediately.” She reached for the phone.
“It’s going to take more than a phone call to wake him,” Croft muttered under his breath. “Hang on a minute while I pull on a pair of jeans.”
“What do you mean, it’s going to take more than a phone call? Croft? Come back here. What’s going on?” Mercy slammed down the receiver and hurried after him as he strode out of her room.
“Never mind, I’ll explain later,” he told her through the open door of his own room. “Better put some clothes on if you’re going to come downstairs with me.”
Belatedly Mercy remembered that all she had on was her cotton nightgown. It was prim enough with its high neck and long sleeves, but she felt quite naked standing there in the hall. Glancing around quickly she scurried back to her room. None of the other doors were being flung open by a
larmed guests. Her frightened scream would have awakened anyone else who happened to be sleeping on this floor. It appeared she and Croft were the only guests with rooms upstairs.
She was hastily sliding into her loafers when Croft appeared in the hall outside her room. He had thrown on a shirt and was still fastening his jeans as he spoke.
“Ready?”
She nodded quickly. “I’m ready.”
They hurried down the stairs and outside into the chilly night.
“What do you think that man outside my window was doing, Croft?”
“I don’t know, but it looks like you were right to be wary of motel prowlers.”
Mercy nodded. “Good thing I put Valley into the safe.”
“By the way,” Croft began as Mercy reached the screen door of the manager’s office, “I meant to tell you in the morning that I—” he broke off abruptly as he realized the office door was wide open. “What the hell?”
Mercy felt a new frisson of fear trickle along her nerve endings. “He must have broken in here first,” she whispered, halting on the threshold. “Maybe he robbed the night clerk and then came looking for whatever he could find in the guest rooms.”
Croft was already pushing past her into the small lobby. He reached out for a light switch just as Mercy followed him over the threshold.
“Damn.”
Mercy peered around Croft’s shoulder, trying to see what he was looking at. “Oh, my God.” The night clerk lay in an awkward sprawl on the floor, blood trickling from a head wound. “The poor man.” Mercy eased herself around Croft and hurried toward the stricken clerk. She was almost bowled over by the alcohol fumes that permeated the room.
“There was no need to bash the poor guy. He was already out for the count.” Croft went down on one knee beside Mercy as she felt for a pulse.
“What do you mean he was already out? Croft, what’s going on here?” Mercy didn’t wait for an answer. “We’ve got to call whatever passes for the local emergency medic service around here. He’s alive, but he’s obviously badly hurt.” Her hand came away from the clerk’s head, her fingers sticky with blood. She wiped them absently on her jeans as she stared in concern at the man.
Croft watched the small action with a curious expression. “I take it you don’t get sick at the sight of blood?”
“Self-employed entrepreneurs can’t afford to have queasy stomachs. Between the IRS and the banks, life is too precarious. Are you going to call the emergency number or shall I?”
“Not much choice. We’ll have to call someone in authority, Ι guess.” He spoke reluctantly as he went to the phone. “There’s a number for the local sheriff’s office here in the front of the book. Better not move the clerk.”
“I won’t.”
The phone was answered on the other end and Croft gave the necessary information in flat, economical sentences. “Yes, we’ll wait.”
He wasn’t watching Mercy as he spoke in an impatient tone. His attention was on the scene inside the small, inner office behind the desk. It was a scene shielded from Mercy’s eyes because of the open door. After a moment’s further conversation Croft hung up the phone and glanced at Mercy. “They won’t be long. They’re just a couple miles away near the ski resort.”
Mercy nodded as she continued to kneel beside the victim. “Who would do such a thing? This place is obviously run on a shoestring during the summer months. There couldn’t have been much money on hand. There are only a few guests and I’ll bet most of them paid for their lodging with a credit card, not cash. I wonder if whoever it was hit the coffee shop, too?”
“And then decided to make a clean sweep by checking the guest rooms to see if there were any stray wallets lying around? It’s possible.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“All the other guests are booked into ground floor rooms. You and I were the only ones on the second floor. Why would the guy risk going up the outside of the building when it would have been much easier and more lucrative to hit the rooms down below?”
“Who knows? Maybe he couldn’t figure out which rooms were occupied and which weren’t. At this time of night everyone’s lights would probably have been turned off. It would be difficult—” Mercy was interrupted by a siren in the distance. “Good. The authorities are almost here.”
“For all the good it’ll do,” Croft muttered.
“What’s the matter with you? We had to call someone. What have you got against the local authorities?”
“Nothing. I just don’t happen to have a lot of faith in the official enforcers of law and order.”
“Honestly, Croft, sometimes you’re very cynical.” She got slowly to her feet and turned toward him. “It’s too bad I didn’t get a good look at the guy. All I saw was the outline of a man against the window. It was so dark outside and I—”
She broke off as for the first time she caught sight of what lay behind the open door of the inner office.
“Croft!”
He followed her stricken gaze. “Take it easy, Mercy. Valley is safe.”
“I didn’t realize whoever it was had gotten into the safe!” She leaped toward the doorway, staring in horror at the open safe. One quick glance confirmed that there was nothing left inside. “It’s gone. Croft, he took Valley. My whole future in the book business. He just walked off with it. Probably doesn’t even know what he’s got. Just assumed it was valuable because it was in a safe. Damn it to hell, if I ever get my hands on whoever did this I’ll strangle him.”
“Mercy, calm down.” The sirens were louder now and the first of the emergency vehicles was pulling into the motel parking lot. Croft moved from the desk and gripped Mercy’s shoulders from behind. “Listen to me, Valley is safe. I have it upstairs in my room.” His tone was low and forceful.
She whirled around to face him. “You can’t have it upstairs. I put it in the safe and someone’s taken it.”
“I took it out earlier this evening.”
Confusion washed through her. “Why would you do that? When did you do it? And how would you get it out? I’m the one who had to sign for it. Croft, this is insane. Ι demand to know what’s going on.”
“I’ll tell you later.”
“You’ll tell me now!”
He shook his head once. “No, not now. Now we have to talk to the sheriff and I want you to follow my lead.”
“What are you going to do? Lie to him?” She was furious.
“I’m going to tell him the truth. It’s always easier as long as you don’t get carried away with all the little nuances and ramifications. We’ll keep it simple.”
“I don’t understand, Croft.” She was more than furious. She was totally mystified. None of this was making any sense, and the most worrisome part was that Croft seemed coolly in control.
“You don’t have to understand it all right now. Just let me do the talking. You can tell him about seeing the figure at the window, but let it go at that. I’ll handle everything else.”
Mercy wanted to tell him he was crazy, that she was not about to lie to the authorities. She wanted to inform him in no uncertain terms that she would not allow herself to be dictated to in such a manner. She wanted to scream at him that she was not stupid enough to let a man she had known only three days tell her what to do in such a serious situation.
But his hazel eyes were calm and reassuring as he tried to impress his quiet commands on her. His strong hands clamped around her shoulders seemed to be draining her will to resist.
“Mercy, you know you can trust me.”
“No, I don’t know that.” But the protest was weak and she knew it. Outside in the parking lot a siren was choked off as the sheriff’s vehicle came to a halt. Α car door opened and someone got out. The uniformed figure started toward the office door.
Without any warning Croft’s eyes went from calm and reassu
ring to terrifyingly ruthless. The hands on her shoulders tightened only slightly, but Mercy felt as if she were suddenly trapped in steel claws. Croft’s will inundated her, a huge, silent wave of male power that could not be denied. She shivered as she looked up at him.
“Damn it, Croft, you have no right to intimidate me like this,” Mercy hissed.
“I don’t have any option. You’ll do as Ι say. Follow my lead. We’ll sort it all out later.” He released her as the sheriff’s boot sounded on the step outside. “Get hold of yourself and stop looking as though you’ve just seen a ghost.”
Mercy could have cheerfully used the nearest lamp on his arrogant head, but it was too late to attempt anything so satisfying. The sheriff was walking through the office door and Croft was turning to face him.
Mercy watched Croft move toward the other man and decided resentfully that she had every right to look as though she’d just seen a ghost. The fathomless cold that lay beneath the surface of Croft’s eyes surely had its origin in some spectral dimension.
Mercy sat stiffly on the edge of her motel room bed and watched Croft as he came through the door with the wrapped volume of Valley of Secret Jewels. The sheriff had departed a few minutes earlier and the still unconscious clerk had been taken off in an ambulance.
“All right,” Mercy began aggressively as Croft shut her door, “so you do have Valley safe and sound. That only opens up more questions than it answers.” She reached imperiously for the book.
He handed the package to her, raising his eyebrows in a faintly quizzical rebuke as she snatched it from him and tore open the tape on one end to check the contents. “Thank you for letting me handle the sheriff.”
“Ha. Don’t thank me. You terrorized me into cooperating with you.” She slid Valley far enough out of its wrapper to be certain it was the right book and then began to carefully reseal the package. “You should be ashamed of yourself. You have no right to traumatize innocent people that way.”
“I didn’t terrorize you.”
Midnight Jewels Page 10