If You Only Knew

by Dixie Lee Brown

  “What do you want to eat?”

  She dismissed his question with a wave of her hand. “I can wait.” She choked back a grin and focused on the book as she turned each page, not reading any of what was printed there. A glimpse from beneath her lashes confirmed the amusement in his eyes. He knew she was lying, and well he should. She was always hungry.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  She glanced at him and shrugged, looking away before she gave in to the answering grin that tugged at her traitorous lips.

  He stood. “Suit yourself. I’m going to call for room service. There’s probably a number in that notebook you’re studying.” Ty grabbed the cell phone and dialed as soon as she provided the number.

  “I’d like to place an order, please . . . I’ll have pastrami on rye with fries. Wait—do you have sweet potato fries? . . . Perfect.”

  Damn him. He knew sweet potato fries were her favorite and the mention of them practically made her mouth water. If she asked him to order some for her, it would be giving him what he wanted, but damn it, she was hungry—and they had sweet potato fries.

  “Do you have any pie?”

  Rayna’s gaze flicked back to his, and a low moan caught in her throat. She was starving, and he knew it. This exercise he was going through was clearly designed to tantalize her and drive home the fact that she was dependent on him at the moment. Never mind that she’d started the standoff.

  He watched her, and his eyes held regret and concern. Her stomach did that butterfly thing again, and it wasn’t from hunger.

  “Make it lemon meringue. Let’s see . . . is that everything?” He cocked his head at her.

  She slapped the notebook closed and glared at him. “Maybe some sweet potato fries.”

  He smiled in that boyish way he had that made her stomach flip-flop again, and relief shone from his eyes as he repeated her order into the phone.

  “Mmmm . . . a French dip sounds kind of good.” Rayna laughed at the comical quirk of his brows. “And a chocolate milkshake.”

  Ty finished giving them her order and listened for a moment. “Oh, hell.”

  Rayna’s gaze flew to his.

  “They can’t deliver right now. They’re shorthanded. I’ll cancel,” he whispered, holding the phone away from his mouth.

  “They’re just downstairs. You can go get our food. I’ll be okay here and I’ll stay out of sight.” She was on the verge of whining but couldn’t help herself.

  Ty chuckled, told the person on the other end he’d be there in ten minutes, and ended the call, never taking his gaze off her. Finally he raised his hands as though in surrender. “I’m sorry, Rayna. It was never my intention to hurt you.”

  She shook her head sadly. “None of this is your fault.”

  “Obviously we’re in way over our heads. Whatever happens, I want to be your friend. After we eat, maybe we could talk it out . . . find some middle ground?”

  A sharp stab of pain almost made her wince. How could she possibly be just friends with the man who owned her heart?

  “I’d like that.” The lie slid out easily enough.

  Ty removed the gun from where it nestled against his back and laid it on the table beside her. “Hang on to this while I’m gone. Don’t let anyone through that door. If you know them, make sure they’re alone. That goes for me too.”

  The warning reawakened the anxiety she’d managed to force to the back of her mind since they left the hospital, and it made her nauseous enough she wondered about the advisability of ordering food. She swallowed hard and nodded, but the concern that shadowed his eyes told her he’d noticed her apprehension.

  He reached out and cradled her cheek in his hand. “I’ll only be five minutes.”

  She touched his hand, then smiled. “I’ll be fine. I’m armed and dangerous, after all.”

  “Heavy on the dangerous part.” His eyes teased her.

  “You know you love it.”

  He grew serious. “Strangely, I do.” He gave her a gentle peck on the cheek, then grabbed her wrist and pulled her up, placing the gun in her other hand. At the door he looked back. “Lock the dead bolt and hook the chain after I leave.”

  He checked through the peephole before he opened the door and stepped into the hall. Rayna locked the door and secured the chain, then put her eye to the hole. Ty still stood there holding up one hand, his fingers splayed as he mouthed the words five minutes.

  After he sprinted down the hall in the direction of the elevator, Rayna sat cross-legged on the bed and surfed through the channels. She stopped at an episode of The Dog Whisperer that featured an aggressive German shepherd. The dog reminded her of Joe’s shepherd, Dillon. Everyone gave the beast plenty of space—everyone except Joe’s wife, Cara. Rayna shook her head. Dillon had been putty in Cara’s hands from the first day they met and ended up taking a bullet trying to protect her. Thankfully, everyone survived.

  A loud rapping startled her, and her gaze flew to the door. For a moment she froze, clutching the gun in her hand. It couldn’t be Ty. It was too soon. Anyway, he’d call out. Wouldn’t he?

  She unfolded her legs, stepped off the bed, and shuffled quickly toward the door.

  “Oregon State Police. I just need to ask you some questions.” A deep male voice came from the other side of the door, along with a repeat of the knock.

  Rayna peered out. A burly OSP officer stood in the hall, one hand on his holster. The other held a small notebook. He looked like the real thing. She backed away a step and reached for the dead bolt but stopped short of her goal. How did the state police know where they were?

  She put her eye to the peephole again. “Who are you looking for, Officer?”

  The man glanced briefly at the notebook in his hand. “Tyler Whitlock. Actually, I’m not here in an official capacity. A friend of his, Nate Sanders, asked me to stop by and see if I could be of any help.”

  Rayna blew out the breath she’d been holding. Nate sent him. He was a friend. Ty probably told Nate where they were staying. Relief left her weak for a moment.

  “Ty stepped out for a few minutes. He should be back anytime now.” She reached for the lock again, fingering the cold metal, and tried to decide if the chill that made her shudder was from that or the OSP officer outside the door. What was wrong with her? She’d never imagined bad guys behind every rock before.

  Nobody had declared open season on her before, either.

  “Let me see your badge.”

  The officer held his ID in front of the peephole while she squinted to see it. Officer Clarence Nolan waited patiently while she matched the picture to the man standing in front of her door. When she was satisfied, she unlocked the dead bolt with a click, and pulled the door open until the chain tightened and left a four-inch gap for them to talk through. She wasn’t letting anyone in until Ty returned.

  “Always a good idea to be careful, ma’am.” Officer Nolan stepped closer to the door.

  Suddenly, the edge of the door flew into her head and chest, and the slide that held the end of the chain in place ripped free, bouncing along the wall. The man’s weight against the door knocked her backward several steps, and she struggled to regain her balance. She raised her gun hand, but the man forged toward her swiftly, brandishing a knife. He was almost on top of her before she got her wits about her. Diving for the bathroom, she slammed the door shut and turned the lock.

  She gripped the gun with both hands and backed away. When the shower curtain touched her shoulders, she jerked it aside and stepped into the bathtub, still wet from her shower. Sliding down against the tub wall, she propped the gun on her knees and focused all of her attention on the door.

  It wouldn’t hold. It was only a flimsy motel room door. The big, burly, obviously phony OSP officer would blow through it like thin paper. She released the safety on the handgun as a shiver snaked through her. Why did he have to carry a knife? Knives creeped her out. Just the thought of being sliced made her cringe.

  “How long do y
ou think that lock is going to keep me out? Don’t make me come in there after you.” The phony officer snickered as he rapped loudly on the bathroom door.

  Rayna jumped when something slammed or kicked the other side of the door, and the molding around the doorknob cracked. One more hit like that and the flimsy barrier would fold like a stick of chewing gum. Trying to slow her breathing, she trained the gun two-thirds of the way up the door. She considered warning the man that she had a gun aimed at the door, but it seemed prudent not to give away her position in case he also carried a gun.

  “One more chance,” the man growled.

  The jolt came again, but the door held. Someone yelled from a distance and a whirlwind of crashes and bangs, combined with the thunks of smaller items hitting the floor, filled the room with surreal sounds.

  Abruptly, silence descended. Rayna breathed out and grabbed another deep breath. It was too quiet now. What was he doing?

  The door was barely holding, the wood around the lock slivered and cracked. A thud, like the sound of a sack of potatoes hitting the floor, in the other room made her jump. Hurried footsteps traveled to the door, and she could almost see the OSP-uniformed intruder preparing to kick the door down. Spellbound, she heard the crash and watched the door fling open. A guttural growl escaped her constricted throat as her finger curled around the trigger.

  Chapter Eleven

  * * *

  “RAYNA!” TY SHOULDERED the bathroom door and it swung open, hanging on one hinge. She crouched in the tub, her back pressed against the wall. Relief proved stronger than fear and nearly brought him to his knees. His gaze swept over her, taking in her determined eyes and the pulse jumping erratically in her throat. He didn’t notice the gun pointed at his chest at first, or her finger flexing on the trigger, until her breath exploded from her and she dropped the gun. She whispered his name and scrambled toward him.

  He caught her and clasped her tightly against him as she buried her face in his shirt. “Easy. I’ve got you.” His whispered words of comfort were probably more for him than for her. He’d been scared shitless when the elevator doors opened and he’d heard the commotion. Commanding another motel guest to call 911, he tore down the hall to find his worst nightmare in progress. A uniformed man, clutching a knife, inside their room. Ty had erupted with rage and fear for Rayna when the man turned on him. He’d snapped the intruder’s neck after a brief tussle for control of the knife. Whoever he was, he would never bother Rayna again.

  Sirens wailed in the distance, but still he held her, and she showed no inclination to let him go. That was fine with him. He’d like to keep her this close forever, but his first priority had to be planning their next move. They should have been safe here. Finding out they weren’t might have cost Rayna her life. He couldn’t afford to make another mistake like that. Leaving her alone had been foolish. Sending Nate away obviously hadn’t accomplished Ty’s goal of leading Andre’s goons out of town. Instead, it had left Rayna more vulnerable than ever, with only one person to keep her safe. All those years of Joe instilling in him the importance of working as a team was starting to make more sense. Guilt weighed heavily on him, and he held on to Rayna like she would disappear any minute.

  Three Roseburg City police officers burst into the room a few minutes later, followed by Sheriff Barnett and one of his deputies. The sheriff fired a few questions his way as the officers secured the scene and confirmed the intruder masquerading as a state trooper was dead. They regarded Ty warily as they held a whispered consultation with Barnett.

  The sheriff caught his eye and motioned toward the hallway while he chatted amicably with the city cops whose jurisdiction he was no doubt trampling.

  Ty kissed the top of Rayna’s head. “Ready to get out of here?”

  She nodded but didn’t look up or release her hold on him.

  He held her tightly as he leaned over to grab the discarded gun, put the safety on, and jam it in his waistband. “Will you do something for me? Close your eyes?”

  She glanced at him, confused, but a second later, understanding swept across her face and she closed her eyes. His arm around her shoulders, he propelled her through the room and into the hall. For some reason, it was important to him to shield her from the whole ugly scene. He wasn’t really sure why. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen death before, but the circumstances made this way too personal, and she was far too vulnerable. She’d been through enough, and he didn’t want her slipping into shock or retreating within herself. His need to protect her had reached an all-time high.

  “Is he dead?” She leaned away to look back toward the door.

  He sighed and slipped his hand behind her, drawing her head forward to rest on his chest again.

  “One of Andre’s?” She tipped her head up and met his gaze.

  “I think that’s safe to assume.” The rage Ty had tried to squelch swirled around him. He’d screwed up twice now. Left Rayna alone and unprotected, and both times Andre’s men had been on hand to take advantage of his inattention. That wasn’t happening again. He and Rayna would be joined at the hip from now on, whether she liked it or not.

  Sheriff Barnett strode toward them, sympathy in his eyes as he studied Rayna. “Is she all right?”

  Ty brushed the hair from her eyes. “I was so relieved she was alive I’m afraid I forgot to ask.” He hid a smile when she rolled her eyes. He knew she hated it when people talked around her like she couldn’t answer for herself.

  “I’m fine.” She glanced at the sheriff.

  “I think the only thing left to do is lock the two of you up.” The sheriff motioned to his deputy.

  “What? Why? We didn’t do anything wrong.” Rayna stiffened and turned halfway to glare at the sheriff.

  “I assume this is more chaos caused by your friend, Andre Komarov, and the Russian Mob? Detective Sanders filled me in this morning. I understand that the DEA has assembled a special team of agents to ferret this guy out up in Portland and that your friend here is part of that. But this is my jurisdiction, and there’s a dead man in your motel room, Ms. Dugan. Until we find out who he is and how many more there are out there, I think it would be better if you two were in custody. Believe me, I’d like nothing better than for you to move your fight on up the highway.” The sheriff spoke to Rayna, but his gaze locked on Ty.

  Rayna broke free of Ty’s grasp, twirled, and slapped her hands on her hips. “We’re not going anywhere with you. We have a right to a lawyer . . . and a phone call.”

  Ty slid his hands around her waist and drew her back against him. “Sheriff Barnett is just doing his job, Rayna.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, a puzzled frown emphasizing her pouty lips.

  “Everything will be fine. I promise.” He tightened his arm around her, hoping to reassure her.

  She remained tense and rigid in his arms, clearly not understanding his compliance with the sheriff’s edict. She hadn’t seen the man’s conspiratorial nod in his direction. Unless he missed his guess, Barnett was actually helping them out, no doubt assuming what Ty already knew—they wouldn’t be safe anywhere until Joe picked them up. If they were locked inside a jail cell, however, that changed the odds somewhat. It might also keep the sheriff from having to pick up any more dead bodies while they remained in town. He obviously wanted anyone who might be listening to think it was the real deal. Ty would have to keep Rayna in the dark for a little while longer.

  Barnett spoke to his deputy in private and sent him back inside the room for their belongings while he confiscated Ty’s gun and cell phone and handcuffed them both. “It’s just procedure.” He smiled apologetically, as Rayna glowered her defiance, then escorted them to the elevator, through the lobby, and outside into a waiting cruiser.

  “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll get everything sorted out.” Ty leaned against Rayna’s arm, counting on his proximity to calm her nerves, but she trembled and her jaw jutted forward in a stubborn posture he’d seen a hundred times before.

  When the c
ar rolled to a stop in front of the county jail, Barnett let them out and led them inside through a door marked INFIRMARY.

  “It’s after seven, so the infirmary is closed. No one will bother you in here.” Barnett quickly removed the cuffs and handed Ty his cell phone. “Find out when your friend will be here, and I’ll make sure you’re there to meet him.”

  Rayna’s gaze darted between Ty and the sheriff. “You mean . . . you’re not locking us up?”

  Barnett attached his cuffs to his belt. “Sorry for the added stress, Ms. Dugan. Detective Sanders asked me, as a personal favor, to keep an eye on you two. Anyone who tries to get drug dealers off the street is okay by me, so I’m cutting you a little slack for now. Since we don’t know how many more people are out there looking for you, I thought it would be prudent to get the two of you out of harm’s way for the time being.”

  Rayna snaked out her hand and slapped Ty’s stomach, catching him by surprise. He snagged her hand in case she wasn’t finished.

  “You knew?” She skewered him with an accusing glare and jerked her hand away.

  Ty ignored the sheriff’s bemused expression, dialed Joe’s number, and spoke as soon as he answered. “How soon can you get here?”

  “An hour, maybe less. Change of plans?” Joe’s calm voice over the phone steadied Ty.

  “We’ve had more trouble. Rayna’s okay, but I want her out of here as soon as possible.”

  “You got it. I’ll give you a heads-up when I’m twenty minutes out.”

  Ty ended the call. “He’ll be here in about an hour, Sheriff. Is there somewhere close he can land?”

  “Yep. The hospital is about five minutes away. As long as there’s no emergency going down, we can use their pad for a touch-and-go.” Barnett turned toward the door. “I sent my deputy for some food. Nothing special—just burgers and fries. Hope that’s okay.”

  “That’s very kind of you.” Rayna’s smile was slight but it transformed her worried expression. “Thank you for helping us.”