You're Still the One

by Jacobs, Annabel

  They pulled onto the city's main street, called Center. A half mile brought them a stoplight. Gas stations took two corners and a newspaper office another. The fourth corner belonged to a locksmith. Past the stoplight was the original section of town, restored to historic glory and steady with foot traffic.

  Downtown Winfield boasted businesses on both sides of Center Street. Parking spaces fronted stores that looked as if they could've been there since the turn of the century. A computer business and an Internet company gave evidence to the fact that even small town hand moved into the new millennium. Stoplights marked each block and, as Rick drove, Katie kept an eye out for their destination.

  They pissed two jewellery stores, several antique stores and restaurants, a real estate office and a bank. Just past the third light, at what looked to be the end of town, Katie saw the sign Check It Out, the business name Grace had given her. "There it is."

  Rick swung into the first available space several doors down and they both got out.

  Check It Out was snugged between a pharmacy and a jeweler, it's front matching the tall plate glass of all the other businesses. Red-and-white striped awnings stretched over the wide, brick walkway, providing shade from the increasingly hot June sun. Butted against each intersection light pole, square concrete planters held flowering dwarf fruit trees and gave a quaint charm to the prairie town.

  Katie snagged her purse from the back of the car and stepped up the curb to join Rick on the bricked walk. Her soft-soled shoes made no sound as she and Rick walked two doors down.

  Feeling his gaze on her, she turned her head.

  He looked at her, considered for a moment. "If they're hiding out, she may not be in there."

  "I know."

  "I just don't want you to be upset if we don't see her right off."

  She smiled at him, remembering how he'd tried to reassure her after they'd learned of Billy Edwards' murder and the increased danger to Grace and Tommy. "Thanks."

  He nodded and opened the door for her.

  Katie stepped inside the small open space. Several copy machines crowded the wall to her left, whirring with activity. Across from her, a small counter was protected by a tall sheet of glass. There were only a few customers moving around the worn carpet, none of them Grace. Katie didn't panic. She had the money Grace needed; her sister was here somewhere.

  A thin-faced man peered out from behind the glass. "May I help you?"

  Rick touched her elbow, then let go as if he hadn't meant to touch her. She swallowed a sting of hurt and walked with him toward the counter.

  She smiled at the clerk. "I wondered if you'd had anyone waiting for a money wire this morning?"

  Rick slid Grace's photo across the counter and through the space underneath the glass. "This woman."

  "Yeah." The man, whose name tag read Cody, looked to be around thirty. His long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. His hazel eyes were curious as he studied the picture. "A woman named Grace. She had blond hair, though, not dark. She took off quite a while ago. Said she couldn't wait any longer."

  "How long ago did she leave?" Rick asked.

  The guy pursed his lips as he returned the picture. "More than an hour, probably two."

  Katie stuck the photo in the side pocket of her purse. "Did she ask you to forward the money wire anywhere if it came in?"

  "We can't do that. She just murmured something under her breath and flew out of here."

  "Did you happen to notice her car?" Rick asked.

  "No, I sure didn't. The man's gaze slid to Rick, and he leaned forward. "She acted like she needed that money pretty bad."

  Evidently Rick didn't feel the need to elaborate. He simply asked, "And she didn't give a phone number in case the wire came in?"

  "Nope."

  "Do you remember what she was wearing?" Katie asked.

  "Oh, yeah." A grin split the man's pinched features. "A lime green zebra shirt. Tight."

  Katie rolled her eyes, but Rick gave the guy a half smile. "Thanks. Do you have a phone book we could look at for a minute?"

  "Sure." The man pointed at a small worktable, which held a phone book, phone, stapler and a box of paper clips.

  Katie walked with Rick to the table. "What are you doing?"

  "Looking up hotels." He flipped to the business listings. "I don't think there's any sense in waiting around here. We can check out the hotels in town, then swing back. If she comes in, Check Boy there will tell her we were here. She'll wait."

  "Yes. There's no way she'd leave without this money."

  Several minutes later, after making a copy of the single page that listed the hotels in Winfield, they thanked the man and told him Grace might show up again. If so, would he ask her to wait? The man agreed.

  Rick held the door for Katie, and she walked past him, more aware than she liked of the strong hand holding the door, the corded forearm bared by rolled sleeves. Once outside, he slid his sunglasses on, hiding his eyes. His features closed, his jaw set, he looked intimidating. And unfamiliar.

  "She'll call." She suddenly felt the urge to fill silence that had followed them all the way from Oklahoma City. "She won't be happy that I didn't wire the money."

  "Maybe we'll hear from her soon." He unlocked the 'Vette's door and opened it for her.

  Once in the car, he circled the block, then turned the opposite direction down Center Street. The town stretched about four miles along the busy main street. The first hotel was a little over a mile through town, on the other side of the highway overpass. They drove past fast-food restaurants, a tire store, a statuary, several florists.

  The Winfield Inn resembled an old English cottage. Made of light stucco and dark timbers, it boasted the same old world charm as the downtown area. Inside, they spoke to a reservations clerk. The young woman didn't recognize the photos of either Grace or Tommy, but she offered to fax the pictures to the night manager, who was at home. The night manager didn't recognize them, either.

  Katie thanked the woman and walked out with Rick, fighting irritation. Where was Grace? Had she led them on a wild goose chase? "She never could stay anywhere longer than a minute."

  Hands braced on his hips, Rick surveyed the long avenue of businesses, the steady stream of noon-hour traffic. "If she's here, we'll find her."

  "She's here," Katie said quickly, running a hand through her hair. "She's probably just getting me back for not sending that money right away. Too bad. I've been waiting on her, worried out of my mind."

  Rick turned his head and looked at her, his dark eyebrows arching.

  "What?"

  A small smile tugged at his lips. "Tough looks good in you."

  She waved him off, walked to the car, but she couldn't squelch her smile. Nor could she dismiss the warmth his words sent through her. For the first time since last night, he'd said something personal, and it had been a compliment. She thought she'd long ago outgrown the need for male approval, but evidently approval from Rick was different.

  There were five more hotels in town, and they checked them all. Finally, at the last one, the desk clerk who'd just come on his shift recognized both Tommy and Grace. "Sure, they stayed here. Checked out early this morning."

  Katie, who'd been turning away in anticipation of failure, pivoted. "How long were they here?"

  "Just the one night."

  "Did they register as Mr. and Mrs. Tommy Harrington?" Rick slid off his glasses, shifted to make room for Katie as she stepped up to the counter.

  "No." The older man typed something into his computer, then looked up. "Mr. and Mrs. Anderson."

  Katie shared a look with Rick, who nodded to show he recognized her mother's maiden name.

  "Thanks." Rick took her elbow and guided her outside. This time, he didn't seem to notice he was touching her.

  "So now what?" Kit's arm burned with the imprint of his fingers.

  "We definitely know they've been here. We know Grace was at Check It Out a couple of hours ago."

  "W
e know she wouldn't leave town without that money," Katie offered.

  "Probably. Unless something happened."

  "Like Henderson?"

  "Maybe. I haven't spotted anyone following us since we left Oklahoma City, but that doesn't mean Henderson didn't get a line on Grace and Tommy."

  He let go of her to slide the sunglasses on. She could feel his gaze, intense and penetrating, from behind the reflective lenses, and she fought the urge to squirm.

  He walked toward the 'Vette. "I think we should check in with the police."

  "There's no way Grace or Tommy would go there." Sunlight bounced off the car's hood, shimmered in the lenses of Rick's glasses.

  "If we're going to find them before Henderson's goons do, we need to spread the word about them."

  Katie nodded, determinedly shoving away her admiration of the way his broad shoulders filled out the soft denim of his shirt, the way his jeans molded sleekly to his long legs. She settled into the car.

  He drove the way they'd come, into downtown Winfield, past Check It Out and pulled up in front of a white-painted brick building that took up about half a city block. Black stencilling on its front identified it as the Winfield Police Department.

  A pair of glass doors led them into a small tiled entry with an elevator. Cool air swirling around them, they walked through another set of glass doors to their left and past a row of chairs lined up against the wall.

  A petite, gray-haired woman smiled at them from behind a tall sheet of bulletproof glass that stretched from wall to wall. In a small alcove to Katie's right was a door marked Personnel Only.

  Rick fished his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans and nudged it through the bowl-shaped opening beneath the glass. "Hi, I'm a private investigator from Oklahoma, and I wondered if I could talk to your duty sergeant?"

  The woman flipped open his wallet, studied his license then picked up the phone close to her right hand. After she hung up, she said, "Sergeant Clark will be right out."

  A few minutes later, the door marked Personnel Only opened. A tall, lanky man with shrewd eyes and the freckled face of a farm boy identified himself as Sergeant Clark and invited them back. Rick put the man's age close to his own thirty-two.

  Open doors, marked with name plaques, lined both sides of a long corridor. The walls, painted a soft blue, sported framed photos of various officers receiving awards, posing on motorcycles in full dress uniform and lined up for group shots. The sergeant showed them into the break room, the sixth and last door on the right. A big poster of a classic, cherry-red Corvette was mounted on the wall next to an old refrigerator.

  Rick smiled in admiration. "A sixty-seven Stingray. I've got a black one."

  "That's mine," Clark said. "Great cars."

  "Yes."

  The sergeant eased down onto the corner of a long table holding foam cups and an ancient coffeemaker. "Sarah said you're a P.I.?"

  "That's right," Rick confirmed.

  Katie sank down on a scratched metal chair, content to let Rick do the talking but paying close attention to every word.

  "I'm working a missing persons case." He showed the officer pictures of Grace and Tommy while filling him in on what had happened. "We got a call from Grace last night that they were in this area, but we haven't been able to locate them yet."

  Clark looked at the pictures, then shook his head. "Sorry, haven't seen them."

  "Her hair's blond now," Katie offered, scooting forward in her chair.

  "Sorry." He gave her a sympathetic smile before shifting his gaze to Rick. "You say there's a mob connection?"

  "Yeah. And I've got descriptions of two guys suspected of murder who are probably following them. One's very slender, six feet tall, and the other is about five foot eight, balding with a thick neck."

  Clark had taken out a small, well-worn notebook while Rick talked and now scribbled a note. "I'll put the word out. Give you a call if I come across anything."

  "Thanks, I'd appreciate that."

  "Yes, thank you," Katie added.

  Rick circled his cell phone number on his business card and passed it to Sergeant Clark.

  The officer rose, "Let's get copies of your pictures, then check with the guys who aren't out on calls right now."

  "Great."

  As Clark led them around the corner and down another hall, he looked at the photos again. Holding up Grace's picture, his gaze sliced to Katie. "I see a resemblance in the eyes. Related?"

  "She's my sister," Katie said.

  He nodded, stopping inside the doorway of a small room, cramped with half a dozen desks and computers. Two officers, one male, one female, sat in front of computer screens, hunched over keyboards. Two other males leaned back in wooden-legged chairs with their feet propped on their desks.

  Sergeant Clark help up the photos of Grace and Tommy. "Hey, guys, anybody seen these two people? The woman's gone blond.

  Chairs creaked as the four officers rose to their feet and ambled over. The auburn-haired male officer who'd been working on the computer and was about Rick's height studied the pictures, then passed them back. "No, haven't seen 'em."

  Katie pressed against the doorjamb, peering around Rick.

  The lone female officer, a pretty brunette, bent her head over the pictures. "No, sorry," she murmured, her gaze lingering on Rick a little longer than Katie liked.

  The next officer, a young man with a crew cut and massive biceps that strained the sleeves of his uniform, reached across the brunette. He straightened when he saw Grace's picture. "Hey Brenda, we've seen this woman."

  Katie's heart leaped, and she clutched a handful of Rick's shirt. She couldn't help it, almost didn't care when he stiffened.

  The younger officer, Mark, motioned over a barrel-shaped man with stubby legs and a cigar clamped between his teeth.

  "Yeah, we've definitely seen her," Officer Mark said.

  Brenda, identified as Pollack by his tag name, leaned close, then removed the cigar stub and grinned. "We were in the dinner earlier this morning and she walked in. Ordered two breakfasts to go."

  "You're sure it was her? Did you see Tommy, too?" Katie stepped around Rick, encouraged.

  "Didn't see him, ma'am, but I ain't likely to forget a woman with a set of --er, a woman like that." His eyes glowed, and Katie could just imagine his thoughts. She'd seen it all before and for the first time was really thankful that Grace's looks drew such notice.

  "We knew she wasn't from around here."

  "Did you happen to notice as she was leaving," Rick asked with a male-bonding grin, "what kind of car she was in?"

  "Actually, we did." From the sheepish grin on the younger officer's face, Katie figured they had watched Grace as long as possible. Typical male response, especially if her sister had dyed her long, thick hair blond. "They were in a Ford pickup, white. Probably eight or ten years old. Oklahoma tags."

  "Great." Rick shook hands with both men.

  "Her hair's shorter, too. About here." Officer Mark indicated his collarbone.

  Katie was shocked Grace had cut her hair. "Thanks."

  "You're not the only one looking for 'em."

  She stilled, looking at Rick.

  "No, we're not." His gaze narrowed slightly. "How'd you know that?"

  "About fifteen, twenty minutes later, a bald guy walks in, shows the waitress a picture and I heard her tell him that a woman matching that same description had just left."

  Bald guy. With a thick neck, Katie thought, concern worming into her excitement over getting a lead.;mmnmjjjjjnnbnbcbnndjn hbbbhbhbnjnjbbnnbnvnb j jhhvhjvjnvnnjnjfjjj

  Rick asked, "Did you happen to see which direction the woman in the truck went?"

  "Looked like they were heading north, for US-69, but I couldn't tell you for sure."

  "That's great. We really appreciate your help."

  "Any time." Sergeant Clark said, shaking Rick's hand. "We don't want any trouble, especially with the mob. We'll keep an eye out."

  Once outside,
Rick paused next to Katie's door after opening it.

  "Sounds like they've already left," she said.

  "Probably, but now we know that they're driving. At least for now. Let's sweep through the parking lots in town."

  "All right." Captured between the car and Rick's broad chest, Katie told herself to get in the car before she did something she'd regret, like touch him. As she settled in her seat, he shut the door, then walked around and got in.

  "I'm surprised Graced hasn't called yet." Katie fastened her seat belt as Rick started the car.

  "Until she does, we should probably stay put. Do you have a problem with that?"

  "Until she does, we should probably stay put. Do you have a problem with that?"

  "No. Of course not." But she did. She needed desperately to get some kind of space from him. She'd been counting on her sister to provide that. Maybe Grace was still here.

  An hour later, they'd made a sweep of every parking lot in town, including the hotels they'd already checked. No sign of an old-model white Ford pickup with Oklahoma tags.

  "Looks like we missed them," Katie said.

  He turned into the parking lot of the Winfield Inn. "How about if we hope up here and wait until we hear from Grace?"

  The prospect of spending another night alone with Rick snapper her nerves taut. "You don't think we can catch them?"

  "Which direction, Katie?"

  "Good point." She noted the tight lines of his body, the white lines that fanned out from his generous moth. "Look, I'm sorry about this--"

  "Hey, none of this is your fault. We'll find them. I just don't think it's a good idea to take off without having some idea in front of them.

  "I agree." She watched the cars whiz by on the busy street in front of them.

  "So, we'll check in here. We can get separate rooms. Since it seems that Henderson's goons are ahead of us rather than behind, there's no reason we have to crowd each other."

  Crowd each other? She wouldn't have put it that way, but then she hadn't been the one to put their past in a box that would never be opened again, had she? She forced a smile. "Great. Two rooms. Then what?"

  "Find something to do while we wait."