“Not that I’m aware of. We’re a family-run business in a small town, which means most of our employees have been with us for a long time. There’s always some turnover during the year but we haven’t fired or hired anyone for months.” She paused, trying to remember any incident with an unhappy employee. “I can’t recall any recent problems with employees beyond the usual small issues like scheduling or pay raises.”
“What about his personal life? Any girlfriends with unhappy ex-boyfriends?”
“If there are, I haven’t heard about it. Trey has a lot of women friends but as far as I know, he’s never been serious about any one of them.”
“Maybe one of them wanted more than friendship.”
“Maybe.” Raine searched Chase’s profile but couldn’t read his thoughts. “Do you think Trey’s disappearance is connected to his personal life in some way and not to whoever wrote the letter?”
Chase shrugged. “I’m giving equal weight to any theory. When someone goes missing, it’s often connected to a personal issue.”
He continued to ask questions about Trey. The time seemed to fly and Raine was surprised when the lights of Billings appeared. Chase drove down a side street and angled the SUV into a parking slot a half block away from the neon sign spelling out Bull ’n’ Bash.
Raine looked up and down the street, noting the rough neighborhood. “Charming place,” she said dryly.
“Oh, yeah.” Chase leaned sideways and opened the glove compartment.
His shoulder pressed briefly against hers and the space was suddenly too small. Raine sucked in a breath and pressed her spine against the seat in a vain effort to distance herself but it wasn’t enough. Her lungs filled with the faint scent of aftershave and soap and she felt vaguely threatened by his size and sheer presence, though he didn’t say a word or look at her.
He removed a handgun from the compartment and shifted back into the driver’s seat.
Unnerved, Raine watched as he checked it efficiently, then tucked it into a shoulder holster beneath his denim Levi’s jacket.
“Do you expect trouble?”
He glanced at her and she felt that electric shiver of wary awareness once more. “I always expect trouble.” He got out.
Raine unlatched her seat belt and followed him, determined not to be left behind.
“Stay, Killer. Watch.” The murmured words reached Raine clearly before Chase stepped up on the curb. He waited for Raine to join him then led the way to the bar’s entryway, where he stopped her with a hand on her forearm.
“You can go inside with me on two conditions.”
“What are they?”
“I do all the talking. You’re an observer, nothing more.”
Her first response was to refuse. She wanted to ask questions—someone inside might have seen Trey. If they were going to find a clue that would lead them to him, this might be their best, maybe their only, chance. But Chase was the expert in this search and she didn’t want to hamper any progress he might make. She nodded reluctantly. “Agreed. What’s the second condition?”
“You stick to me like glue. While we’re in there—” he pointed to the Bull ’n’ Bash “—you pretend you belong to me. I’ve been here before—this isn’t the local Saloon in Wolf Creek where everyone knows you and they’re all your friends.”
“I’m not completely naive. I’ve been in a few rough bars before.”
“Then you know what could happen if the men think you’re available. I don’t want to waste time cracking some cowboy’s skull because he takes a fancy to you and won’t let go.”
Raine stepped over the threshold. She hadn’t lied to Chase. She’d been inside rough places with Trey when he’d considered expanding the family bar ownership to outlying towns. The Bull ’n’ Bash was seedier than others she’d seen, but the landscape was familiar.
The jukebox on her left was playing Johnny Cash’s “Walk the Line” and the crack of cue sticks against pool balls in the back of the low ceilinged room was barely audible over the heavy bass in the music. Cheap hanging lanterns gave off low-wattage light, dimly illuminating the big room with its round tables and battered wooden chairs. Several booths lined one wall and a long bar boasted worn red vinyl stools, nearly all of them occupied by cowboys of various ages and sizes.
“Let’s find a booth.” Chase slung his arm around her and they threaded their way around tables.
She felt surrounded by him, his arm heavy across her shoulders, his hip and muscled thigh brushing against hers as they walked. Her body felt charged with awareness and she was relieved when they reached the booth so that she could slip out from under his arm and drop onto the bench. Instead of taking the bench opposite the scarred tabletop, Chase sat down beside her, his shoulder nudging hers. Quickly, she slid along the seat into the corner. He followed her.
“What are you doing?” she hissed, taken aback at the press of his arm and the length of his thigh against hers.
He bent his head, his lips brushing against her ear. “Marking you.”
Incensed, Raine met his gaze. His blue eyes were impassive, watchful. Determined not to let him see he’d shaken her composure, she merely nodded. “Of course. I should have realized.”
His mouth quirked and amusement lit his eyes for a brief moment. Then he looked away from her and lifted his hand to beckon the waitress.
The strawberry blonde who answered his gesture carried an empty tray and wore skintight jeans, her curly mass of red-gold hair brushing the straps of her bright pink halter top.
“Hi, honey, what can I get you?”
“A couple of longnecks.” Chase’s voice was a lazy, sexy drawl.
Raine realized with a start that he was smiling at the waitress. The smile changed his features from handsome to drop-dead sexy. The waitress clearly thought so, too. Her eyes lit and she bent forward slightly, allowing the neckline of her low-cut knit top to fall forward.
“Is that all you need, honey?”
Her suggestive question had Raine bristling. The surprising reaction was unexpected, unwelcome and annoying. Neither the waitress nor Chase appeared to remember she was present and the rudeness irked her.
“For the moment.”
The blonde gave him a knowing smile and sashayed her way back to the bar.
“What was that all about?” Raine whispered.
Chase turned his head to look at Raine. His expression held none of the seductive teasing he’d shown the waitress. “It’s about being nice to the employees. If Trey was in here on a Friday night, she wouldn’t have missed him.”
“Assuming she was working that Friday.”
Chase nodded. “A pretty safe assumption since Friday and Saturday nights are the busiest nights in a bar. There’s a good chance she worked the weekend shift, don’t you think?”
“True.” Raine knew the Saloon’s employees worked at full staff on Friday and Saturday nights. “Good call,” she conceded reluctantly.
The waitress came back with two frosty bottles of beer.
“Here you go,” she said.
Chase handed her a twenty-dollar bill. “Keep the change.”
“Thanks.” She tucked the bill into the pocket of her skintight jeans.
“There is something you might help with,” Chase said, returning her smile.
“What’s that?” The pure speculation in her voice clearly said she was hoping for a more personal request.
Chase reached into his inside jacket pocket and drew out the photo of Trey. “I’m looking for a friend of mine. He was in here on a Friday night a couple of weeks ago.”
The blonde took the photo, studied it, then held it out to Chase. “No, haven’t seen him.”
“Are you sure? Take another look.”
She stared at the photo once again, a frown growing between her brows. Then she shook her head. “Sorry, mister. I told the cops the same thing when they asked about him a week or so ago. I’ve never seen this guy before.”
“Were you working
that night?” Chase took the photo from her outstretched hand, tucking it back inside his jacket pocket.
“I work every Friday night, Saturday, too. Tips are better on the weekend.”
“Who else works weekends? Any chance one of the other waitresses waited on him and you didn’t see him?”
The blonde laughed, a throaty chortle. “Mister, there’s no chance I’d have missed him.” She gestured at Chase’s jacket, where the photo lay hidden. “Most of our customers are regulars. Your friend is fine-looking—I’d definitely remember him if he’d come in. He wasn’t here on a Friday night. In fact, I don’t think he’s ever been in here, at least not when I’ve been working and I work six shifts a week.”
“Then I guess I must have misunderstood—maybe he told me he was at another bar in Billings. Are there two bars in town with the same name?”
“No.” She shook her head. “There’s only one Bull ’n’ Bash and God knows, one’s enough.” The bartender roared her name and she glanced over her shoulder. “Gotta get back to work. Let me know if you have any more…questions.” She winked at Chase, ignored Raine and strutted away across the room.
Chase lifted his bottle and drank, his gaze sweeping the room and its occupants. Beside him, Raine swiveled her bottle in a slow circle on the tabletop, her fingers trembling.
“He wasn’t here.” She felt numb with disappointment, only now realizing how desperately she’d been counting on Chase uncovering a lead tonight. “The police said they couldn’t find any evidence he’d been in Billings that night but I didn’t believe it. I was so sure he must have met the letter writer here and left with him.”
“Before we check this place off our list, I’m going to show Trey’s picture to a few more people.” Chase slid out of the booth. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He strolled across the room and joined the group of men leaning against the wall to watch the pool shooters. Raine saw him exchange words with a cowboy on his left, then he showed him Trey’s photo.
She took a sip of beer, swallowed and shuddered. She didn’t like beer and if she hadn’t been so intent on Chase and the response of the men now looking at Trey’s photo, she wouldn’t have lifted the bottle and drank.
“It can’t taste that bad.” A cowboy slid into the booth opposite her, grinning as he nodded at the bottle in front of her. “But since it apparently does, how about letting me buy you something better. A shot of Jose Cuervo, maybe?”
“Thanks, but no thanks.” Raine nearly groaned when she met Chase’s gaze across the room and registered the grim set of his mouth as he started toward her. “I have a personal rule against letting strange men buy me drinks.”
“I’m not a strange man, honey. I could get downright friendly if you’re willing.”
“She’s not.”
Both Raine and the cowboy looked up. Raine’s stomach lurched. Though Chase didn’t move, he emanated a lethal threat that stole Raine’s breath.
The young cowboy eased out of the booth, mumbled an apology and headed quickly over to the bar.
“Let’s go.”
Raine slid out of the booth, her body brushing Chase’s as she moved past him. Heat bloomed everywhere they touched, prickling her skin and setting off warning signals. She knew he was dangerous. She’d known before she’d asked for his help in finding Trey that he would probably be difficult to work with. She’d never expected to be physically attracted to him.
She walked ahead of him across the room, aware of him following her.
They stepped out into the night.
“Did any of the men around the pool tables remember seeing Trey?” Raine asked.
“No.” Chase took her arm and guided her down the sidewalk toward his SUV.
“Then he wasn’t here?”
“Hard to say. I don’t think he was inside the bar but it’s possible the letter writer approached him outside.” Chase stepped off the curb, hit the control button to unlock the vehicle. “Or maybe he never made it to Billings.”
Chapter Three
“But if he didn’t arrive here, then where is he?” Raine heard the thread of rising panic in her voice and struggled to control the fear squeezing her chest and throat.
“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” Chase gently urged her into the car.
If I had a million dollars, I’d gladly give it all to know you’re safe, Trey, she thought bleakly.
In the seat behind her, Killer woofed softly when Chase pulled open the driver’s door and slid behind the wheel.
“Does Trey spend much time in Billings?” Chase asked.
Raine couldn’t read his expression, though his face was turned toward her.
“Off and on. He comes down for the occasional weekend when he wants a break from Wolf Creek—sometimes I ride along and go shopping, maybe catch a movie.”
“What hotel do you use when you’re here?”
She gave him the name.
“I know where it is.” He backed out of the parking slot. “We’ll check in, show the photo to the bartender at the hotel lounge, and then you can get some sleep.”
“What will you be doing while I’m sleeping?” Raine asked, suspicious that he hadn’t said we can sleep.
“I’ll probably spend most of the night working on my laptop, checking whether there’s been any activity connected to your brother over the last couple of weeks.”
“What kind of activity?”
“Anything—if his credit cards have been used I want to know the location. And if anyone’s cashed checks on his account or used his ID for any purpose, I want any information available on the user. I’ll also run a scan to find out if his car’s license number is on abandoned vehicle records anywhere in the U.S.”
“You think he may have been robbed and his ID stolen?” Raine asked, mulling over the possibilities, trying to control the sick fear knotting her stomach.
“Maybe, maybe not. It’s standard procedure to check everything.”
Raine was silent, absorbing not only Chase’s listing of details, but also what she felt he was omitting, maybe on purpose. If someone else were using Trey’s identification, his credit cards or his checking account, or if his car had been found abandoned, what did that say about Trey’s safety?
She squeezed her eyes shut, silently repeating to herself the essential truth she couldn’t forget, the only thing she had to hold on to: Trey wasn’t dead. He was her twin, their lives were inextricably linked together. If his soul departed this world, she’d feel his leaving as if part of herself were being ripped away.
He’s alive, she told herself fiercely. And we’ll find him.
The SUV slowed and she opened her eyes, startled to realize they’d reached the entrance to the Paramount Hotel. Chase took their bags and his laptop from the backseat, told Killer to heel, and handed a vehicle key to the parking attendant.
“Will they let your dog stay here?” she asked as they crossed the sidewalk to the double glass doors edged in brass.
“Oh, yeah,” he drawled, a faint hint of amusement in his tone. “They like Killer.”
Raine walked beside him into the hotel lobby, the Rottweiler padding behind them.
The man behind the registration counter looked up as they approached, a broad smile instantly creasing his face in welcome. “Mr. McCloud. Good to see you. And you, too, Miss Harper.”
“Hello, Ken.” Raine managed a smile. Ken was a longtime employee of the Paramount; he’d checked her and Trey in and out of the hotel on more than one occasion.
Chase set the two duffel bags and his laptop in its leather case on the carpet next to Killer and took out his wallet. “We need two connecting rooms.”
Startled, Raine opened her mouth to object.
“Certainly, let me check availability,” Ken responded before Raine could protest, his fingers moving rapidly over the computer keyboard. “I don’t have two rooms together but I do have a suite on the third floor.”
“We’ll take it.�
�� Chase handed him a credit card and moments later, scribbled his name on the registration sheet before accepting two key cards. “Will you have the bellman take our luggage upstairs? We’re going into the lounge for a nightcap.”
“Certainly.”
Chase slipped one of the cards into his pocket and handed the other to Raine before taking Trey’s photo from his jacket and laying it on the countertop. “Have you seen this man recently? Within the last few weeks?”
Ken moved the photo closer. “This is your brother, Miss Harper…?”
“Yes.” Raine nodded, her throat constricted.
He gave her a curious look before shaking his head and handing the photo back to Chase. “I’m sorry, but he hasn’t stayed with us for a month or more. I believe the last time I saw him was when the two of you were in town for the Restaurant Owners’ Association dinner, Miss Harper.”
“That was six weeks ago,” Raine commented.
“Thanks, Ken. If you see him, will you give me a call?” Chase exchanged the photo for a card.
“Will do, Mr. McCloud.”
“Killer will go upstairs with the bags.”
“Of course, Mr. McCloud.” Ken beckoned a bellhop to transfer their bags to their suite.
Chase took a thin leather lead from his jacket pocket, snapped it onto Killer’s collar and gave the leash to the bellhop. Without comment, the man took the leash, picked up the bags and headed for the elevators across the lobby.
Astounded, Raine watched the seemingly docile Killer trot by the man’s side as Chase drew her toward the doors leading to the hotel lounge.
“Why do we need connecting rooms or a suite?” she whispered.
“Because I don’t know how late I’ll be working or how quickly I’ll get answers. Depending on responses, I might need to ask you more questions about Trey as the night goes on. You might as well sleep until I have to wake you.” He eyed her. “You said you wanted to help with the investigation. Have you changed your mind?”
“No, of course not,” she said promptly, privately wondering how wise it was to share a hotel suite with a man as dangerous as Chase. Not that he’d made a single move toward her, she thought. It was her reaction to him that bothered her. But since she didn’t plan to let him know her hormones went crazy every time he got within three feet of her, she had no cause for worry.
Chase's Promise Page 3