Monroe, Melody S. - Chelsea's Pleasure [Pleasure, Montana 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Melody Snow Monroe

  “Sure. My pleasure. If you hear me walking around during the night, just ignore me. I’m a light sleeper.”

  Once he left, she closed the door. “The poor man. I wish there was something we could do for him.”

  “I think just being here is good for him.”

  She snapped her fingers. “I know. If the storm ever lessens, we can go outside with a flashlight and pretend to be a UFO landing.”

  Preston chuckled. “Chester would investigate and find out we were hoaxing him. That wouldn’t be nice.”

  She opened her mouth. “You know what would be cool? You could maybe get in the attic and talk into a vent or something. You could pretend to be Willie’s ghost from beyond and tell him you send your love.”

  Preston folded her in his arms. “You, Chelsea Mansfield, are one special woman. You always want to make people happy.”

  “I just hate to see him be so sad that he has to make up stories.”

  “What? You don’t think actually visited Serpo?”

  She slapped his arm. “Do you?”

  He kissed her forehead. “I’m not sure, but there’s one thing I do know. And that is that I love you.”

  Her knees almost buckled. She looked up to be sure he wasn’t kidding. “You do?”

  “Hell, ya.”

  “I’m not sure I believe you. Maybe you should show me.”

  He picked her up, dropped her on the bed, and kissed her. “You might be sorry you asked.”

  Chapter Ten

  Chelsea arrived home the next morning energized. Not only did she get a ton of new cooking equipment, but the adventure with the farmer was something she’d never forget. She still wished she’d been able to convince Preston to pretend he was Chester’s son. Too bad he thought it was cruel to give the man false hope. In the end, they fell asleep in each other’s arms talking about the possibility of life on other planets.

  Now she was back to her ordinary world. She’d finished putting the dinner dishes in the dishwasher and had cleaned the kitchen, but the realities of her life weighed heavy on her once again. She worried that Sanford’s eating habits weren’t where they ought to be to give him the best chance of recovery. In addition, he seemed depressed on way too many levels, which would further hinder him getting better. He’d always been the surly one of the two, but the last time she’d seen him on leave, he’d been more upbeat. Hell, what did she expect? She’d be depressed, too, if she’d injured her hand and couldn’t cook.

  Bed called to her. With her brothers home, she took to sleeping on the living room sofa, which might be why she wasn’t getting the needed rest. As she placed the blanket on the couch, her cell rang. It was only 9:00 p.m., but most people didn’t call after 8:00.

  She didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

  “I need to speak with a Chelsea Mansfield.”

  “This is she.” Was this the service calling to see if Clint and Sanford had arrived home safely?

  “This is the Bozeman Deaconess Hospital.”

  All she could think of was that Sanford was supposed to report to therapy there or some bad lab result had come in. “Yes?”

  “I’m calling to inform you that a Luke and Preston Caulfield have been in a serious car accident and were rushed here an hour ago. I found your name as a person to contact.”

  Her heart stopped for a moment. Bile raced into her mouth. “Oh, my God. What happened?”

  “Ma’am, we need you to come here right now. They may not last the night.”

  “Yes. Sure. Now?” Damn, he’d just said to come right now.

  “Yes.”

  The man disconnected, but she couldn’t let go of the phone. Her fingers wouldn’t stop shaking.

  “Chelsea?” Clint was calling her. “Who was that?”

  He came out of the bathroom, dressed in a towel and his shoulder sling. Only now did she notice the two bullet wounds in his leg and one in his arm. For a moment it took her mind off the other tragedy.

  “Chels?”

  She didn’t know which issue to address first, but since his wounds didn’t look too bad, she told him about the call.

  “Jesus. You want one of us to go with you?”

  “No. I don’t know how long I have to stay. I’m going to pack a bag in case they need me to spend the night.” Her mind couldn’t understand much other than some terrible event had occurred and had harmed the two men she loved.

  “I want to help.”

  She looked up at him. His sincerity made her heart lighter.

  “You can help by staying here with Sanford. I’ll call when I know anything.”

  He nodded. “Don’t worry about us. Drive carefully.”

  After she gathered a few essentials, she dragged on her coat and left. Her luck disappeared when three miles from her house, the snow began to fall in earnest. The traffic was almost nonexistent, thank goodness, so she could go as slow as she wanted. Still, without any streetlamps, it was hard to see the road, even with her headlights on high. The fields on either side of her were sheets of white and even the distant mountains were obscured by the storm. As she got closer to Interstate 90, the curves and hills worsened.

  A set of bright lights seemed to come out of nowhere and flash behind her. Was it a cop? She certainly hadn’t been speeding, and Justin Bradford didn’t drive a dark car. The vehicle came within inches of her bumper.

  “Hey.” Adrenaline rushed through her. “If you’re in such a hurry, why don’t you pass, buddy?” Some people were just rude. Too bad he couldn’t hear her rant. The car didn’t pull back. Anger mixed with a touch of fear. “Okay. I get the hint.”

  She pulled over, careful not to slide into the ditch, willing him to drive on by so she could continue at her snail’s pace. Instead of going by, he stopped, right next to her, blocking her chance of pulling away. This was bad. Who was he? Her mind raced to what she could use as a weapon, but there wasn’t anything in her car to use. She double-checked her doors were locked.

  Someone got out of the vehicle and approached on the driver side. He tapped the window.

  Heart pounding, she tried to make out who it was, but couldn’t. She decided she didn’t need to be there, so she put the car in gear, deciding to chance driving on the side of the road until she cleared his car. Before her foot pressed on the pedal, the passenger-side window shattered. Her gut churned. The side door was ripped open and a masked man pointed a gun at her head.

  * * * *

  Preston paced behind the bar. He’d called Chelsea’s cell three times, and each time the call went to voice mail. Either her battery was dead or she’d turned off her phone. Damn. She was over two hours late for her shift. It wasn’t about her being here to cook, as he or Luke could have taken over her shift. He was worried something bad had happened to her. The storm last night had caused some roads to close and she might have gotten stuck on her way here.

  Since he didn’t have either one of the brothers’ cells, he called Vicki, hoping she’d been in contact with them and knew the number.

  “I might have it somewhere. It’s not like I’ve ever called them in Iraq, though.”

  He understood her being a little testy. She was in the middle of working with a patient. “I know this is a bad time, but I’m afraid something might have happened to Chelsea.”

  “Oh, no.” Her voice immediately softened. “Give me a sec, okay? I’ll check my computer.”

  He waited for what seemed like forever. “Here it is. Chelsea sent me an e-mail with a bunch of emergency numbers when she was eighteen. I can’t believe I kept this.” She gave him the number. “I’m not sure if these are still good.”

  “It’s worth a try.”

  He jotted down the number and then dialed. Clint answered on the second ring. “Preston, that really you?”

  He didn’t have time to wonder why he sounded so surprised. “Yes. I’m looking—”

  “Jesus, man, you sound good. I thought you were a goner.”

  “What are you talking
about?”

  He told him about the phone call Chelsea had received last night. “She left for Bozeman right away.”

  Shit, that was fifteen hours ago. His legs weakened, and he had to hold on to the bar for support. “Have you heard from her since she left?” He wiped his palm down his jeans.

  “No, but she took her suitcase thinking she’d spend the night, or maybe even stay a few days. She wanted to be by your side. And Luke’s.”

  While his heart warmed at her concern, worry overtook him. “Shit. Something must have happened if she isn’t back yet. I’m going look for her. I’ll be in touch.”

  “I want to help.”

  He knew the serviceman would step up to the plate. “I need you to stay home in case she comes back. Let me know if she does.”

  “Will do. And Preston?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Find her.”

  Preston raked a hand through his hair, weighing his options, trying to figure out the most efficient way to search for her. With the storm last night, their customers had been few and far between, so he placed a Bar’s Closed sign on the counter. Lydia could take orders, and he’d ask the cook to stay late.

  After he told the old man that Chelsea was missing, he volunteered to stay for as long as Preston needed him.

  “I appreciate that.”

  He then dialed Luke, who’d gone to the bank to deposit money. When he told him what happened, his brother swore up a storm. “I’ll be right there.”

  “Meet me at my truck. We’ll find her.” Too bad his tone didn’t sound convincing even to him.

  There had to be a logical explanation for her disappearance. She had to be safe. While Preston waited in the SUV for Luke to make his way down the street, he notified Sheriff Bradford as well as Evan Thomas and Sparks Langston, the two forest rangers who patrolled the area.

  “We’re headed down toward 247 right now,” Sparks said. “We’ll keep an eye out for her car.”

  “Thanks.” The man could spot a puff of smoke from miles away. Hence the nickname.

  Luke jumped in the passenger side and Preston took off.

  Luke slapped a hand on the dash. “I can’t believe this is happening. Maybe she got to Bozeman, found out it was a hoax, and spent the night. She wouldn’t want to have driven home in this storm. Does she know anyone there?”

  “She’s been living in Missouri for six years, so I doubt it.”

  “Damn, I’m going to call her brothers to be sure she doesn’t have friends we don’t know about. Let me have their number.”

  Preston blew out a breath and handed the paper he’d written the number on. “I’m praying she isn’t sitting in her car freezing to death.” The thought made his own bones chill.

  Luke spoke to one of the brothers and shook his head. How could this be happening?

  His brother disconnected. “No friends there that they know of, but they have been out of the country. There’s basically only one way to get to Bozeman. I say we retrace her drive.”

  “Good. In case she broke down near home, we’ll need to double back toward her place, and then set out along the road she’d have taken.” Good thing they had chains on their vehicle. Driving would have been near impossible after this storm.

  They had no luck near where she lived and now were a good ten miles from town, searching the road and the surrounding area.

  “Good thing Chelsea doesn’t drive a white car,” Luke said. “Her blue Ford should be easy to spot.”

  “True.” To his surprise, they hadn’t passed any broken-down cars. He’d expected a few. His cell rang and his heart jumped. “Chelsea?”

  “Sorry, it’s Sparks. We found her car ’bout fifteen miles up Route 247.”

  Preston’s foot hit the brake and they skidded to the side. “How is she?” He turned into the skid and straightened.

  “She’s not here. Her passenger-side window was smashed in, and her suitcase is still in the backseat.”

  He swallowed to wet his mouth. “I’m on 247 now. We should be there shortly. And Sparks?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thanks for the call.” He disconnected and his heart died a little bit.

  Chapter Eleven

  Chelsea woke with a start from a noise sounding in the other room, like a door shutting or opening. Her captors must have returned, but their voices sounded too muffled to tell what they were saying. It probably wasn’t good, whatever it was.

  They’d taken off her gag, but her hands and feet remained bound. Despite there being a bed, a chair, and a dresser in the small room, they’d dumped her on the floor with a rope attached to the closet door, preventing her from going anywhere. Her position gave her some hope they weren’t interested in her for sex, but why else take her? Her brain was too numb to think straight.

  My God, but it was cold. They had let her keep her jacket on, but they hadn’t given her any water or food since she’d arrived last night. During the ride from her car to this place, they’d blindfolded her. That didn’t mean she had no idea where they’d headed. From the way the engine had groaned then purred, she suspected they were in some mountain cabin. It had taken them about a half an hour to arrive. She knew the time because they’d kept the radio on, and the broadcaster mentioned the time twice.

  They’d headed north first, then got off on a smaller road. From there she couldn’t say as there were a lot of switchbacks.

  She’d had her iPhone in her jacket pocket, but they’d confiscated it as soon as they brought her in. Otherwise she would have found some chance to call, assuming there was even a signal up here.

  She wasn’t sure why they wore masks. She’d know Phil and Dave Scanlon’s voice anywhere. Phil was younger than Ross and Dave was two years older. In a town as small as Pleasure, and them having a father who’d practically built the town from the ground up, the Scanlon kids were always visible and always in trouble.

  The door snapped open, and her breath caught. Both men loomed in front of her, their masks tightly in place. To her, the disguise implied they didn’t plan on killing her. Yet.

  “We’re friends of Ross Scanlon,” Phil announced.

  No shit. “Okay.” Had they expected her to cringe?

  Dave stepped forward. “We want you to tell the sheriff Ross didn’t attack you, that you two was just playing around.”

  Was he stupid? “I’d really like to help you out, but the sheriff took photos.” She detailed her injuries. “With the record of the bite with his saliva on my skin, how do I explain without incriminating him?”

  “Tell him you and Ross like to play rough.”

  She wasn’t sure how to respond, but laughing at him wouldn’t have helped. If she agreed right away, they’d know she was lying. “Why don’t you write up something and I’ll sign it.” She tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage. They turned to go. “Wait. Can I get a drink of water? I’m so thirsty, my hand is shaking.” She didn’t want to appear pathetic, but she understood she was losing body heat too fast.

  They grumbled something, and she slouched back to her dark, cold corner.

  * * * *

  Luke jammed his hands in his coat pockets to keep them warm and leaned against her car. “So, where the hell is she?”

  Preston’s phone rang. “Yeah, Justin.”

  His shoulders eased. Hopefully, the sheriff was calling because he’d discovered something.

  Preston nodded. “I appreciate that.” He disconnected.

  “Bradford got Judge Williams to issue a court order to the telephone company. If she still has her phone, we might be able to get her GPS coordinates.”

  “And if not, we’re screwed.”

  Sparks and Evan had searched the other side of the highway before returning to the car. “No sign of her, but there are a few cabins in the mountains that sit vacant all winter. We’re going check them out. Someone might have seen something last night.”

  “Let us help.”

  Evan rubbed his hands together. “That would m
ake it faster. Let’s sit in the truck. It’s too damned cold out here for my fingers to work.”

  He and Preston piled in the back of the cab. Sparks and Evan conferred and came up with six empty cabins that could possibly be used.

  “Besides the empty ones, who actually lives up there?” The cabins were a little too far out of town for them to know everyone.

  “One belongs to Sara Phillips, another to Mr. and Mrs. Bonheart. Then there’s the Scanlon place, but it’s been empty for a while. It belonged to the brother who went to prison last year.”

  Luke punched Preston in the arm. “That’s it, bro. I bet the bastards want revenge for what Chelsea did to Ross.” Excitement filled him at coming up with a clue.

  Preston grinned. “I’ll call the sheriff and ask him to give us backup. Sparks, can you give us directions?”

  “You bet.”

  The fact it was daylight was both an advantage and a disadvantage. The drive would be easier to navigate in the light, but on the other hand, if one of Ross’s brothers had taken her, they’d be sitting ducks coming up the road. Even if they were invited in, there was no way they could search all the rooms without suspicion. Shit.

  Sparks handed him the hand-drawn map. “We’re still going to check the other five cabins in case your idea doesn’t pan out.”

  “Good. We’ll be in contact if we find her.”

  He and Preston got out of the truck and climbed back into their vehicle.

  Preston pulled out his phone. “I’m calling Justin and Tom.”

  “If he knew her GPS already, he would have called.”

  “True, but, besides backup, we could use some rifles. I don’t like going there unarmed.” He called Justin and they devised a plan on how to proceed. He pivoted toward Luke. “They’ll meet us there.”

  “Good. Let’s get close and head on up by foot. We might be able to sneak a peek.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  With Sparks’s crudely drawn map in hand, they crossed a road in serious need of plowing. “We’d do better in a snowmobile.”