Cowboy Alibi

by Paula Graves

  “How do you know?” Joe asked, catching up with her.

  “I asked around while the club manager went to get the bouncers. The girl who takes the cover charges said a couple of guys came looking for my father and said to tell him Clint sent them.”

  “He told Clint where we are. Damn it!”

  “I know,” she said, her jaw rigid as she turned to look at him. “He probably called Clint as soon as he left the motel.” Her gaze shifted away from him, looking at something behind him.

  Joe turned and saw Harlan Dugan emerge from the alley alone, staggering a little. Leaning against the wall, he lifted his head and looked in their direction. He lifted his hand in a small wave and turned away. Jane got behind the wheel without another word.

  Joe rounded the car and slid into the passenger seat. “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t feel surprised, so I guess I’m used to it from him.” She gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles whitened. “I suppose he thought he was protecting me when he warned me to leave.”

  Joe looked back at the tavern. Dugan still slumped against the front wall, head down.

  Self-serving son of a bitch.

  “Good thing you suggested checking out of the motel before we left,” Jane murmured.

  “Yeah, no going back to the room now.” He’d planned to take one last look around their room to make sure they hadn’t left anything behind, but now they couldn’t risk it. It would be risky enough to take the borrowed car back to the motel.

  Joe didn’t think Clint would connect Melissa Blake to him, at least not right away, even if he came to town and started checking all the hotel and motel registers in Reno. And she’d be flying back to Wyoming the next morning if everything went as planned.

  Shortly before ten, they reached the motel where Melissa had booked a room. Jane cut the engine and turned to look at him. “Does your stepmother know I’m with you?”

  He shook his head. “I couldn’t risk telling her.”

  “Because she still thinks I killed her son?”

  “Yeah.”

  Jane frowned. “So you’re going to spring it on her when she gets here?”

  “Well, I wasn’t thinking of it quite that way-”

  “What if she refuses to hand over the rental car?”

  “We’ll just convince her that you didn’t kill Tommy.”

  Jane looked skeptical, but she settled quietly against the car seat, nibbling her lower lip.

  Melissa’s call came at precisely ten forty-five. “My flight got in a little early. I just picked up the rental car. Is everything still on?”

  “Still on,” Joe said, looking at Jane. “We’re already at your motel, waiting for you.”

  Thirty minutes later, a silver Chevrolet pulled into the motel lot and parked a few slots down from where they waited. Joe saw his stepmother emerge from the driver’s seat and look around. He got out and met her gaze across the tops of the cars parked between them. Melissa’s dark eyes crinkled and she offered a hesitant smile.

  Joe crossed to meet her, taking her overnight case from her. “Thanks for coming.”

  “You’re welcome.” A furrow creased her brow. “You look tired, Joe.”

  Joe blinked back hot tears burning his eyes and took her outstretched hand. “You look beautiful as ever.”

  She squeezed his hand. “I was surprised to hear from you. I suppose you must be really desperate.”

  He couldn’t argue, though the flood of guilt pouring through him made him wish otherwise. “There are a lot of things I still don’t understand about why you left without even keeping in touch, but those are questions that can wait until later.” He led her to the borrowed Honda.

  “I thought you brought me here to rent a car for you?”

  “I did. This one’s borrowed.” He bent and looked at Jane through the driver’s window. She rolled it down and met his gaze briefly before she turned her eyes toward Melissa.

  “Sandra?” Melissa’s voice went low and cold. Joe turned to find her gazing in horror at Jane. She turned on him, stiff with outrage. “What’s she doing here? She killed my son!”

  “I didn’t kill him,” Jane said softly.

  Melissa wheeled around to face her. “Shut up, Sandra! You just shut up!”

  “I go by Jane now.” Jane lifted her chin and met Melissa’s gaze.

  “I don’t care.” Melissa turned back to Joe. “Don’t let your emotions rule your head-”

  “Like you did when you walked out on my father and me for your new boyfriend?” Joe shot back.

  Melissa blanched. “That’s not how it happened.”

  “We need to go if we’re going.” Jane shot Joe an apologetic look. “We’re starting to cause a scene.”

  “You made the same mistake with Rita-”

  He stared at her, surprised. “How do you know about Rita?”

  “Canyon Creek isn’t that big, Joe.” Melissa looked at Jane, her expression dark and loathing. “Who are you hiding from?” she asked coldly. “The police?”

  “Three days ago, someone tried to kill us. Twice,” Joe said firmly. “He killed her roommate in Idaho. And I’m more and more sure he’s the one who killed Tommy, as well. He knows we’re in Reno. I’d rather he not find us.”

  “Mrs. Blake, I understand you have doubts about me,” Jane said. “But Joe needs your help. Don’t do it for me. Do it for him.”

  Melissa pressed her lips together, clearly struggling to control her emotions. She finally turned to look at Joe. “I said I would help you. I’ll keep my word this time.” She took her overnight bag from him and started walking toward the motel entrance.

  Joe looked at Jane. “I’ll be back in a minute. Lock the doors.”

  “She’s going to call the cops the second we leave,” Jane murmured.

  “I’ll talk to her some more.”

  Jane shook her head. “She thinks you’ve let your hormones control your head. Which reminds me-who’s Rita?”

  There wasn’t enough time to answer that loaded a question. “Lock the door. I’ll be right back.” He hurried to catch up with his stepmother.

  Melissa turned to look at him as he reached her side near the front desk. “You left her alone? How do you know she won’t run?”

  He took the bag from her again. “She could have run a half dozen times so far, and she didn’t.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes troubled. “Before he died, Tommy told me you were in love with her. You still are, aren’t you?”

  Joe didn’t know how to answer, so he just nodded toward the desk clerk waiting expectantly for them at the front desk. “Let’s get you registered.”

  JOE SET his stepmother’s overnight case on the bed and turned to her. “I owe you.”

  Melissa shook her head. “I owe you. I’ll never forgive myself for walking away from you the way I did. You know that, don’t you? You know how sorry I am?”

  The old pain still lingered, tight and hot in the center of his chest. He shook his head. “We don’t have time to get into who did what.”

  “I loved you. I never stopped. The day you found Tommy was one of the happiest days of my life. I always hoped you’d find a way to see him again.”

  “But you never told him about me. All those years, Melissa. You never told him.”

  Tears rimmed her eyes. “You and your father were a package deal. I knew that.”

  “So you hated my father so much that you were willing to walk out on a kid who thought of you as his mother and deny your other child his family?”

  “He hated me that much, Joe. I couldn’t live up to your mother’s memory, and he never forgave me for that.” She wiped her eyes with shaking hands. “I don’t want to think about what all that hate would have done to Tommy.”

  “He never forgave me, either.”

  Melissa touched his hand. “You were her son.”

  “I was the reason she died.”

  She frowned. “You were a baby.”

  “
I was a sick baby she drove to the hospital in a snowstorm the night she ran off the road and died.”

  Melissa stared at him. “He blamed you for that?”

  Joe didn’t answer, hating the way he felt inside, like the same vulnerable child who’d listened to his father’s drunken tirade that cold December night twenty-five years ago-the first and last time his father had ever spoken to him about his mother’s death.

  “Bastard!” Melissa’s voice shook with anger.

  “I wanted you to come find me,” he admitted. “I wanted you to take me to live with you and Tommy.”

  She reached out and brushed her fingers across his cheek. “I wish I had.”

  He fought his instinct to bury himself in her arms as he had so many times as a child, and he pulled away from her touch, regathering the steely control that had served him well for twenty-five years. “I have to go.” He pulled out the roll of bills stashed in the front pocket of his jeans and handed her five hundred-dollar bills. “This should cover your expenses and the cab ride back to the airport.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Where’d you get this?”

  He smiled. “I’m very good at blackjack.”

  Melissa followed him to the door. “Be careful, okay?”

  “I will. You do the same.” He moved the Do Not Disturb sign around to the outside knob of her door. “Did you bring food like I suggested?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. That way you don’t have to let room service or anyone else in. Just stay here overnight and leave as soon as you can in the morning, and you should be fine.” He didn’t think Clint Holbrook would connect Melissa to him-he’d had little to no contact with her in years-but he didn’t like taking any more chances than necessary. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.”

  He closed her door behind him and headed for the stairs, not willing to risk the elevator a second time. The fewer people who saw him, the better. Just in case.

  Reno wasn’t the sort of town that slept, and there were still people out and about as he crossed to where Jane sat waiting. She lowered the window and looked up at him with troubled eyes. “How did it go with your stepmother?”

  “She won’t call the police,” he said, hoping he was right. “You ready to go?”

  She nodded. “I’ll go first. You follow.”

  “See you at the motel.” He tapped the door and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. But the closer they came to leaving Reno, the more he started to wonder if they were going to get out of town alive.

  He checked his watch. Twelve-fifteen, he noted with growing unease. He’d lingered too long getting Melissa settled in her room. Clint Holbrook could be in Reno already. Maybe he’d already picked up their scent and was closing in.

  Ahead of him, Jane pulled out of the motel parking lot and onto the service road. He started the Chevy and pulled out behind her, trying hard not to think of all the things that could have gone wrong with their plan.

  JANE CHECKED her rearview mirror. Joe had gotten stopped by a traffic light a couple of blocks back, and though she’d considered pulling off the street to wait for him, she talked herself out of it. She was only a block from the Admiral Arms Motel. She drove on, pulling up next to the office and parking in the side lot where Ashlee had told her to park. She cut the engine and slouched low in the driver’s seat, keeping an eye on her side mirror for signs of Joe’s arrival.

  She scooted lower in the seat as car lights swung toward her parking spot. When they passed, she let herself sit up until she could just peer over the dashboard.

  A dark-colored sedan pulled up next to the office and parked in one of the three short-term parking slots at the front of the building. From where Jane sat, she could see only the back end of the car. The car shimmied a little-the driver getting out, Jane thought. She released her breath, chiding herself for being such a scaredy-cat. It was a motel. People checked in and out all the time.

  She pulled her jacket more tightly around her, wishing Joe would hurry up and get there. How long could that traffic light have lasted?

  Movement to her left caught her attention. Jane slouched lower again, trying to stay out of sight. At first, she could make out only two silhouettes. Both appeared to be male.

  Then the taller man stepped into the glow of one of the floodlights positioned at either corner of the motel office, his features now discernible. Jane’s heart skipped a beat.

  It was Clint Holbrook.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jane peered over the back of the seat, doing her best to stay out of sight while she watched Clint Holbrook and a man who was clearly a motel employee climb the stairs to the second floor of the Admiral Arms Motel. Of course they were heading directly for the motel room that she and Joe had occupied until just a few hours ago.

  They disappeared inside, and Jane turned around, releasing a quick sigh of relief as she reached for her cell phone. She punched a button and the display panel came up, complete with a “low battery” message. Holding her breath, she tried to call Joe’s number.

  The cell phone did nothing but beep a warning.

  Punching the off button, she jammed the cell phone in her pocket and looked back at the motel. A light shone in the window of unit 214, so they were still inside.

  Time to find a better place to hide while she could.

  She scanned the parking lot for a hiding place that would still give her a decent view of Clint’s car. There. The two metal trash bins at the far end of the lot would work. There was just enough space to squeeze between them, and the shadows would hide her from view without anything blocking her view of Clint’s car.

  She scrambled over the stick-shift console and slid out the passenger door as quickly as she could, pausing only to push the keys under the front passenger seat as Ashlee had asked her to do, and raced toward the trash bins. Within a few feet of them, the sickly sweet odor of rotting food assaulted her nose and made her eyes water, but she pushed on, sliding between the bins and ducking into the shadows. She could still see the back end of the sedan Clint had been driving.

  She forced her frantic breathing to calm, pushing back a rising tide of anxiety, but it was no use. Panic had begun to set in, making her whole body shake. Any minute now, Joe would drive up in the rental car, unaware he was heading straight into a potential ambush.

  And she had no way to warn him.

  AS JOE PULLED UP at the stoplight at the end of the block, he glanced up at the Admiral Arms Motel in time to see Clint Holbrook step up to the railing.

  Adrenaline shot through him, taking his breath for a moment. He scanned the scene for any sign of Jane. He spotted the Honda parked in the employee lot by the office, but it was too dark to see if anyone was inside.

  Did Jane even realize Clint Holbrook was there?

  The light changed, and Joe drove past the motel, his heart racing. He kept his speed normal, careful not to slow down as he took a closer look at the Honda. If Jane was inside, she was down on the floorboard hiding, which suggested she might have spotted Clint.

  If she was even still in the car.

  He turned into the parking lot of a coffee shop about a block up the street from the motel and parked between a couple of SUVs. The lights inside the shop doubtless made mirrors of the plate-glass windows, making it easy to escape the notice of the scattering of patrons inside as he made his way toward the back of the parking lot, where a narrow alley stretched for a couple of blocks to allow access for waste-disposal trucks to empty the large trash bins behind the establishments.

  He stuck to the shadows, moving stealthily up the alley toward the Admiral Arms Motel. He paused for a moment at the edge of the motel grounds, peering around the corner of the redwood fence separating the motel’s parking lot from the narrow empty lot next door.

  He spotted Clint Holbrook and a shorter man walking across the front parking lot toward the detached building housing the front office. They disappeared from sight around the front of that building.


  Joe made a dash for the two tall trash bins sitting at the edge of the alley and started to squeeze between them when he realized he was not alone. Someone was already crouched low in the space. He skidded to a stop, cursing silently as his boots made a loud crunching sound on the loose gravel of the alley.

  The crouched figure moved, launching herself forward. Joe caught a flash of red hair in a narrow beam of light shining between the bins.

  “Jane!” he whispered.

  The figure froze. “Joe?” she whispered.

  “I’m right here.”

  She scooted backward toward him, unable to turn in the narrow space between the bins. He pulled her to him when she was in reach, wrapping his arms around her from behind and pressing his face into her hair. Despite the foul odors coming from the trash bins, she still smelled good, soap-and-water fresh with an underlying essence he would recognize anywhere.

  “Clint’s here,” she whispered, rubbing her cheek against his.

  “I know. I saw him.”

  She trembled wildly, her teeth making a faint rattling sound. He tightened his hold on her and peered through the narrow space between the bins. “Which car is his?”

  “The black sedan parked closest to the edge of the building. That’s its rear end there by the corner.”

  He pressed his lips to the back of her head and watched the black sedan for any sign of movement. A few long minutes later, the taillights lit up and the car began to back out of the parking lot. As the headlights swung toward the trash bins, Joe pulled Jane around, pressing his back against the tall metal trash container.

  He waited a few seconds and peeked through the space again. He spotted the sedan turning left into light traffic. He waited until it disappeared from sight before he released Jane, turning her to face him.

  “You all right?”

  “I am now,” she responded breathlessly before throwing herself into his arms.

  He held her tightly for a moment before gently setting her away from him. “Let’s go. I want to get to Twin Falls by daylight.”

  She frowned. “Twin Falls, Idaho? I thought we were heading to Wyoming.”