by Kylie Brant
“Here’s the thing.” He rolled to his side, careful not to move too close. “A man who would ask you to change isn’t someone who deserves you in his life. You’ve got more guts than anyone I know, Mia. You’ve got the courage to reach for something good, too.”
He could have been reading her mind earlier. She shook her head. Sought for a way to convince him. “I can’t bathe with you near.” Her words were a shamed whisper. “Twice a week we were allowed to shower. All under his observance. No privacy. Sometimes…he assaulted us there. And it’s stupid that I can’t shake the fear. The bathroom door…has a lock. Sometimes reason is no match against the flashbacks.”
“Logic is just the shiny wrapping around our most primal instincts. Sometimes those instincts win. It doesn’t change who you are. It just is.”
And he would know, she recalled swiftly. The trauma he’d endured as a child would have had to leave inner scars as well as exterior ones.
He spoke again, in what had to be a deliberate attempt to lift her spirits. “I know how you feel. That filleting knife? I still can’t eat fish.”
A breath of a laugh escaped her. “That’s awful.”
“It is.” His fingers laced with hers. “Makes Lent tough.”
She was lying in the same bed with a man that she’d just made love with. Maybe he was right. It would have been unimaginable even a week ago. “I didn’t know you were Catholic.”
“My foster family was. Some of it stuck.”
“You went into foster care…after?”
“My father was killed in prison. I landed with good people. Small town, a lot like this one. Big dopey dog. Brothers and a sister. The Gilberts were there for every surgery. Every recovery. And after my dad was gone they wanted to adopt me. I couldn’t do it.”
She gave his fingers a squeeze. “Why not?”
“Maybe I was like you.” His speech was beginning to slow, as if succumbing to sleep. “Afraid to reach for something in case it didn’t work out. I didn’t know then that if we don’t make a grab for happiness when we can, we might never get another chance.”
Mia lay awake long after he slept. She waited for the gradual skittering of nerves that would force her from the bed. They never quite appeared. She was aware of him, in a heightened sense that made sleep difficult, but not unpleasant.
She wanted to embrace his words, but the past had a way of rubbing sooty fingers over the future. It was easier to be alone. Safer to have no hopes.
But far lonelier.
And as night turned into the first pale light of day, she still hadn’t figured out which was worse.
* * * *
“Try not to get the shit kicked out of you today.”
“Hunter!” Mia admonished the operative. Then her mouth curled. “I can concur with the sentiment while objecting to the phrasing.”
“Yeah, you two are hilarious.” Jude closed down his mini-laptop. “The next time I have a vein open, I definitely want you both at my side.” He knew what he looked like this morning. His face was a lot worse than it had been last night. The bruises were darkening and his eye, despite the application of ice, was swollen half-closed.
“What’d you figure out from the property records searches?” Mia asked. She’d kept her distance this morning, sitting on the sofa with Hunter drinking coffee. Jude recognized she was attempting to rebuild her guard after last night. He even understood it. She could have her space. He just wasn’t going to let her use it as a wedge to lever him out of her life.
“Weale’s home in Davison lists for three hundred thousand and change, which is well above average for houses in this town.” He started to lean back in the chair. Stopped at the warning pull in his ribs. “The Jackson Hole property is assessed for about the same, which isn’t extravagant at all considering the market there. It’s not on water, which would have upped the value appreciably.”
“So there’s no evidence that he’s fallen into a big pot of money.” The disappointment in her tone would be difficult to miss.
“Without knowing what his paycheck is, it’s hard to guess whether he’s living within his means. But there are no red flags at this point, no.” According to what Mia had found online yesterday they could be certain he wasn’t The Collector. But it was still a mystery as to who had sent the email to Munson yesterday and that was one of the answers Jude hoped to get today.
He rose, the small laptop in his hand. “After nosing around a bit more, I’m going to drive to Jackson Hole.”
There was a flash of something in Mia’s eyes before she disguised it. “That’s a seven hour trip.”
“About that.”
“Blake and Paulo will be here this evening,” Hunter pointed out. “Why not wait for them?”
“By the time they arrive I’ll already know if there’s a reason for them to meet me there. Otherwise it’d be a wasted trip for all of us.” But he was willing to bet if Weale was laying low it wouldn’t be here in town with overly interested neighbors and friends who might check up on him. Jackson Hole was close enough to arrange to send three thugs after Jude. And there was still the link to the South Dakota mail drop to look into. “Don’t worry.” He set Mia a half smile. “I won’t use the direct approach this time.”
“Stealth would be good,” she agreed faintly. “So would keeping your head down until your backup arrives.”
“We’ll make arrangements to fly out tomorrow morning,” Hunter said.
Jude’s gaze lingered on Mia, but she refused to meet it. Something inside him twisted. He wouldn’t push, no matter how much he wanted to. No one knew better than he did how long it took to reverse defenses years in the making. “I checked online. Carlson Motors is a local car dealership and their site says they rent vehicles.”
Hunter nodded. “I’ll call them. You be careful out there. You can’t afford another day like you had yesterday.”
He opened the door. “Any fight you can walk away from is a win.”
“Or crawl,” Hunter muttered.
It was too early in the morning for dark humor, especially at his expense, Jude decided. He was well aware of the wide berth the people in the hallway of the hotel gave him when they passed. He’d just been lucky not to run into someone yesterday when he was returning to his room looking like a prizefighter after going ten rounds.
He kept an eye out for the men who’d jumped him, but not surprisingly didn’t see any of them. Jude would have liked to get some answers about whom they were working for. He may still get a chance. Whoever had sicced the trio on him likely wasn’t going to give up easily.
He swung by Weale’s house. It didn’t look any more occupied than it had yesterday, but there really was no way to be certain. The same elderly woman was walking her dog, and it was clear from her stare that she recognized his car.
He got out of the vehicle and approached her, being careful to keep his hands in the open and not to get too close. His face would be threatening enough.
Sure enough her eyes widened, and she bent down to snatch up the fur ball she’d been walking. “Good morning, ma’am. Wondering if you could answer a question for me.” He stopped several feet from the curb. But looking harmless was a feat that was beyond him.
“What happened to your face?” She hugged the small creature she was holding to her sagging chest.
“I got mugged on my way back to the hotel.” Mugging was an understatement given the intent of the crew sent after him, but she’d understand the term. “I’m an old school friend of Eldon’s. We haven’t seen each other for years. I was traveling nearby and thought I’d detour to surprise him.” He gestured to his swollen eye. “Got this for my troubles. Not a friendly town, apparently.”
She seized on the words, as he’d hoped she would. “Davison is a very friendly place. No one from here would do something like that. But we do sometimes get a large group of strangers who come for some showing or other at Davis Antiquities. I believe they have something going on now, in fact.”
; “Well, I’ll probably be on my way. Hate that I didn’t get to see Eldon, but I stopped in where he worked yesterday and they told me he’d gone fishing.”
“Oh.” The news seemed to take her by surprise. “He usually mentions his trips to us. No wonder we didn’t see him come home last night.”
That information was really all Jude had been looking for. “When you see him, tell him Sam Fielding stopped by.” He started to head back to his vehicle.
“I’ll be sure to do that. And I hope you’ll come back sometime. Things like muggings don’t happen in Davison. We’re a quiet little place.”
Next Jude drove by the Davis Fine Antiquities building, surprised when the parking lot was almost completely empty. There was only one car there and the lights were off inside. A sign on the front door said it was closed for the day for a Customer Appreciation party. No indication of where the party was to be held or the time. Apparently if people were invited, they already knew.
He pulled next to the lone car outside the building and proceeded to wait. His patience was rewarded twenty minutes later when the willowy saleslady he’d seen yesterday came out the side door and carefully locked it before hurrying toward her car. Her steps faltered when Jude got out of his vehicle.
“I was in your building yesterday. Do you remember me?”
She glanced around, saw they were alone and halted. “I do. Hello. You seem to have had an accident since then.”
“Ran into a door,” Jude said laconically.
The woman blinked. “That must have been some door. I’m sorry, as you can see we’re closed for the day. We’ll open again tomorrow.”
“The sign said some big shindig was going on.” The lady kept her purse clutched to her chest as if it contained something valuable. Or held a canister of Mace.
“Yes, at the Davis estate. It’s an annual event.” She gave a slight smile. “Invitation only, I’m afraid.”
“Will Eldon Weale be there?”
She looked surprised at the question. “I don’t know. I was surprised to learn he wasn’t working yesterday. Mr. Davis indicated to you that he was on vacation, so perhaps not.”
“Seems odd, doesn’t it?” Jude walked toward the hood of his car. Stopped when she took a nervous step back. Propping himself against his vehicle, he continued, “I’d assume all the employees would be needed to help. Lots of details to tend to while putting something like that on.”
“There are, yes. The event runs all day and evening, and tomorrow we’ll have a crowd at the business. But Mrs. Davis, Anthony’s mother, takes care of much of the planning.” She made a move toward her car. “I really need to be getting back. I just stopped to pick up something for Mrs. Davis.”
But Jude wasn’t done with her yet. “How many employees were working yesterday?”
“Ah…well, three in the morning, I think.” She resumed walking toward her car. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude but I’m impossibly late. The others were attending to details at the estate. And in the afternoon it was just Mr. Davis and myself.” She got in her vehicle. Started it and back out of the space.
Jude doubted very much whether the woman had been the one to send the email. Which left her boss, Anthony Davis.
Mia had thought her captor might be law enforcement, he recalled. But maybe he was just someone who thought of himself as above the law. Wealth could do that to a person. So could getting away with kidnapping and raping women for more than a decade without having anyone link the crimes.
He pulled out his cell to call Hunter. “I want you and Mia gone, today, as soon as you can arrange it.” A new urgency had risen in him, one that was impossible to ignore. He told him what he’d just discovered. “Do what you have to in order to get a rental delivered now. Pack and head out. Mia can make the flight arrangements on the drive.”
“She made them right after you left, using the same ID as the last couple flights. We fly out of Omaha at five o’clock tomorrow night. We’ll book a hotel.”
Jude thought again of the trio who’d jumped him yesterday. “Watch for anyone who might be following you.”
“I know how to spot a tail. We’ll be careful. What are you planning to do? Still going to Jackson Hole?”
“Yeah.” He got back in his car. “Sounds like Davis is going to be tied up until later tonight. Which means it would be an excellent opportunity to catch up with Weale and have a little chat.” Jude started the car. Drove out of the lot. The man would talk to him, because Jude wasn’t going to give him a choice. And by the end of the conversation, he hoped to be a helluva lot closer to discovering the identity of The Collector. At least close enough to provide Raiker with all the connections he needed to prod law enforcement into launching a large-scale investigation.
He needed proof. Because he already suspected the man known as The Collector was Anthony Davis.
* * * *
Tension laced Mia’s muscles as she sat on the couch, her bag next to her feet. Hunter hadn’t given her details for their sudden departure, citing only a change of plans. But she knew better. Jude hadn’t been gone an hour before he’d called the operative. Whatever he’d discovered, he’d considered it a threat.
And the only threat she could imagine was if he thought The Collector was close.
A hot tangle of nausea roiled in her belly at the thought. The possibility had her anxious to be gone already. If she’d had the power she would have jet-propelled herself across the state and already be on an airplane, putting hundreds of miles between her and her predator. And even that might not be far enough.
But even when she was gone, Jude would still be here. Possibly facing the monster alone in the hours it took his operatives to arrive. And the fear that arose for his safety eclipsed what she felt for her own. A knock sounded at the hotel door and Hunter frowned, rising.
“Is that our rental delivery already?”
“They’ll call when they arrive. They don’t have our room information.” He went to the door and looked through the peephole. “Cops.”
Her unease intensified. “Maybe they’re here about the men who assaulted Jude.” A report hadn’t been filed but perhaps exterior security cameras had caught something.
Keeping the safety latch on, Hunter pulled open the door. “Officers.” Craning her head Mia could see two men, both wearing a navy uniform. “What can I help you with?”
“Could we see some ID, sir?” one of them asked.
“Why?”
“Just the ID, please.”
With growing concern Mia watched Hunter take his license from his wallet and pass it through the door. “Sir, please step out of the room.”
“Not until I know what this is about.” It didn’t escape her that the operative’s ID hadn’t been returned.
“Mr. Mason, where were you last night between five and six PM?”
Hunter’s answer was slow to come. “Here. Except for a quick trip at about five-thirty to pick up a few supplies.”
“We had a complaint filed against you last night by a young woman accusing you of attempted sexual assault. She was able to reveal that you were staying here, and identified you from hotel security photos. We’d like you to come with us to answer a few questions.”
Stunned, Mia rose from the couch and approached the door. “Mr. Mason was gone only a short time. I was here when he left and returned.”
“What’s your name, ma’am?” Hunter gave her a warning look, preventing her from answering. It wasn’t necessary. She was well aware of the ramifications of providing a false identity to law enforcement. She’d lived with the risk for the last five years.
The second officer, the one with Hunter’s ID, spoke for the first time. “The name on your license does not match the one given to rent this room. Nor was it indicated on the hotel registration that there would be more than one person occupying this room. Is Mr. Fielding here?”
“He stepped out.” Mia knew Hunter wasn’t about to the reveal the information that Jude had used a
different ID to rent the room.
“Please come with us, sir.” The second officer spoke again. “We’ll get this sorted out downtown.”
“I’m on a security detail here. Personal protection.” Hunter withdrew a card from his wallet and handed it through the door. “I’m not leaving my client.”
The policemen peered at Mia. Then one said, “She’ll be safe enough if she stays inside. The Davison has excellent security. But if you agree to come with us now, we’ll call another officer to come sit with her until we’re finished.”
“I’d like to see your badges first.”
“Sir?”
“Your credentials. I want to see them.” Hunter studied each and then handed them back, before taking out his cell. He called information for the Davison Police Department and when someone came on the line he said, “I have two men at my door claiming to be police officers.” He was silent a moment. “At the Davison Hotel.” A longer silence as he glanced at the men again. “Describe them, please.” Apparently satisfied, he hung up. “Okay. Call for that other officer.” He turned to Mia. “You know the drill. Door closed and locked. Don’t let anyone in.”
Swallowing, she nodded. When the men had left, she resecured the door after them. The episode had done nothing to calm her jittery nerves. She went to her cell. Called Jude and relayed what had just transpired. “Where are you?”
“An hour away, but I’m turning around.” His voice was grim.
“This can’t be genuine, can it?” Tiny tendrils of fear were uncurling in her veins, spreading through her system. “It seems too coincidental after your ambush last night.”
“It’s possible,” he said cautiously and she felt a flash of irritation. He wouldn’t say anything he thought would alarm her. “I’ll be there in an hour. Call me in fifteen minutes if that officer hasn’t arrived.” The policemen at least had had their identities verified. The knowledge soothed a measure of her anxiety. “Get ID from the officer before…”