Torrid Love - Caught!

by Lorie O'Clare

  “You get the feeling there’s more here to order than what you see on the menu?” he asked.

  Jordan didn’t give a damn about the waitress and wished the detective wasn’t so damned cheerful when there was so much to deal with at the moment.

  The door to the restaurant opened, and Jordan turned his attention to the young woman who entered.

  “I don’t believe it,” Dixon muttered.

  The two men watched as Roxanne marched straight over to their table, and Jordan was sure he had never seen her so enraged.

  Chapter Twelve

  Roxanne took a deep breath to calm her nerves as she approached Jordan Hall. She had counted herself lucky after checking into the only decent motel the town had to offer, and then asked the motel clerk if Jordan Hall had a room there as well. The clerk had told her that she had just missed him, and then had leaned forward confidentially.

  “Is he your boyfriend?” the clerk had asked while popping gum.

  Roxanne had guessed the woman working at the motel to be no more than twenty years old at the most. The name tag on the uniform the lady wore said “Dana”, and she was a bit too skinny with large freckles. Roxanne felt a protective urge race through her, and she wanted to tell the woman yes, that he was, and to quit drooling over him. But Roxanne blamed the emotion on lack of sleep and simply smiled at the lady.

  “He’s my boss,” she had told the clerk.

  “Well, you’ll find him over at the diner.” And the clerk had given her directions. “I’d jump his bones in a second. He’s a hottie,” the clerk had called after her.

  Roxanne scowled at the brightness of the sun as she returned to her car, and headed in the direction the motel clerk had told her would get her to the diner.

  Her reserve had quavered as she noticed Jordan’s Porsche, and parked a few stalls from it. But she had driven up here to confront him and to get to the bottom of this mess. Joanie had advised her to be straightforward with Jordan and that was what she intended to do.

  Aaron Tipley was in jail for no reason. His wife hadn’t stopped crying since he’d been arrested. And Roxanne worried for the woman’s health as well as for her unborn child. She intended to get to the bottom of this and get that innocent man out of jail and back to his wife.

  “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Roxanne hadn’t planned on exploding the second she saw Jordan. But those were the first words out of her mouth.

  “I think I’m getting ready to have breakfast,” he said, and pulled out the chair next to him and patted it. “Sit,” he instructed.

  Roxanne slumped into the chair Jordan offered her and then sized up the man who was with Jordan. She held out her hand. “I’m Roxanne Isley, and you are?”

  “Joe Dixon, I’d like you to meet Roxanne Isley,” Jordan said, in a tone so pleasant that Roxanne wanted to laugh.

  “Did you know she was coming up here?” Mr. Dixon apparently didn’t see the need to be as chivalrous as Jordan.

  “Yes,” Jordan answered, wanting to advise the detective that he better treat her with respect.

  “Well, this is rather interesting.” Joe leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest while he stared at Roxanne. “Do you care to tell me what brings you to Auburn, Nebraska? Or have you been here a while?”

  During the drive up there, she had rehearsed how she would handle these men. She had been cool and professional with Layette and she could be the same with the detective and Jordan. Roxanne took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak, when a busty waitress bounced up next to her.

  “Hi, sweetie,” the waitress said, and beamed at her like they were best of friends. “Can’t say I blame you for joining these two handsome men. What can I get for you?”

  Roxanne wasn’t sure she could eat a thing. Her mind was geared up for her confrontation and the switch in conversation left her at a lack for a response. She glanced down at the laminated sheet on the table that listed the items for breakfast. Her vision blurred for a second and she couldn’t think of anything that sounded good.

  “Bring her some orange juice,” Jordan spoke up.

  “Have it here in a jiffy.” The waitress bounced off.

  Roxanne placed her elbows on the table and steepled her hands in front of her. All her fight seemed to drain out of her and suddenly she felt defeated and tired.

  “I haven’t done anything wrong,” she said quietly, not looking at either man. “And neither has Aaron Tipley. I came up here to tell you that you’ve arrested the wrong man.”

  “You might do best not to say anything until you have an attorney,” Dixon suggested.

  Dixon thought she was lying.

  She studied his firmly set jawline, straight nose, and gray, almost white, hair that was cut short. Overall, she found nothing about him that stood out, which was probably to his advantage if he made his living snooping around and gathering information for others.

  “Here’s your orange juice, sweetie,” the waitress said, and Roxanne looked up at her and managed a smile. “Do you want to order anything to eat?”

  The waitress placed a large glass in front of Roxanne and then put a tall, plastic pot of coffee in the center of the table.

  “Bring her some toast, too,” Jordan said, and for once Roxanne was grateful for him making the decision for her.

  She waited until the waitress had walked away from the table and then stared at Joe Dixon. He poured himself some coffee and blew on the hot brew before glancing up and then raising a quizzical eyebrow at her. She felt her anger from earlier return and relied on it to fuel her energy level.

  “There is no reason for me to have a lawyer, Mr. Dixon,” she said quietly, and then enjoyed a cool sip of her orange juice. “I haven’t done anything wrong and if you have any evidence then it would have to be fabricated.”

  Now he appeared amused. She wanted to slap that smug look off his face.

  “How long will you be here in town, Miss Isley?”

  “I drove up here to find out what the hell was going on.” Roxanne heard her voice quaver and knew if she didn’t calm herself quickly she would explode. The man acted as if she was a criminal. “And I have no idea how long that will take,” she added, “but it would be nice to be back home soon.”

  “It won’t go well for you if you try to run,” Mr. Dixon said.

  “Try to run?” Roxanne wanted to throw her juice in the man’s face but she wouldn’t stoop to childish behavior. She forced herself to remain calm. “Why would I run when I intentionally drove up here to find out why one of our accountants is in jail?”

  She turned her attention to Jordan. “And I wouldn’t have had to make the trip if you had answered any of my calls.”

  “I don’t mind at all that you’re here,” Jordan said over his cup of coffee.

  “Jordan has been advised not to respond to any of your phone calls.” Joe Dixon offered the information casually and then leaned back when the waitress returned to their table.

  “Toast all the way around,” she said cheerfully and placed plates in front of each of them. “And here’s a bowl of jams and honey so you all can just pick what you like. I’m right over there if there’s anything else you want.”

  Roxanne didn’t look up until the waitress had left them again. She stared at her toast and knew she couldn’t take a bite of it.

  “Well, since you seem to have taken the role of Mr. Hall’s spokesperson,” Roxanne began, no longer able to hide the venom in her tone, “maybe you can tell me why an innocent man is sitting in jail up here instead of being at home in Kansas City, and at work earning his living? You ask me how long I’m going to be here and then advise me not to run. First Aaron and now me. Mr. Dixon, do you make a habit out of arresting innocent people?”

  “He has been booked on solid charges, ma’am,” Joe Dixon said, and sounded less friendly than he had a minute ago.

  The detective set his jaw, looking very much like he didn’t want to discuss this with her. She g
lanced at Jordan. He met her gaze with eyes so black and penetrating that she felt her very soul being exposed for his perusal. She stared at him and managed to swallow but found all her thoughts had faded and a much more primal emotion had surfaced. She bit her lower lip until it hurt, and the pain helped clear her head just a bit.

  “Do you think Aaron is guilty?” she asked.

  “I have a feeling he had some help.” Dixon spoke before Jordan could.

  “No. I don’t.” Jordan didn’t take his gaze from her.

  She looked absolutely exhausted and more determined than he’d ever seen her. He was damned glad she was here, though. He didn’t doubt she’d been going over every file, but her password showing up on the computers and her being the last to access the accounts in question, was incriminating her. At least with her by his side, he could keep her out of trouble.

  “Jordan.” Dixon sounded stern, reprimanding. “It’s probably not a good idea to discuss this case with her right now.” He focused on Roxanne. “I don’t suppose you would mind answering a few questions.”

  Roxanne placed her glass of juice, now half empty, down on the table. She reached for her purse, pulled out a five-dollar bill and placed it on the table, then stood and stared at the two men.

  Jordan stood also and picked up the bill to hand back to her. “I can pay for your meal, Roxanne.”

  “You aren’t allowed to talk to me,” she snapped. “You better sit down and be good before you get in trouble.”

  She ignored the bill he tried to return to her.

  “I came up here to figure out why you arrested an innocent man,” she snapped. “And obviously talking to the two of you is wasting my time.”

  She marched out of the restaurant. It didn’t surprise her a bit to find Jordan on her heels.

  “Jordan,” she heard Joe Dixon call.

  The fresh air felt good on her burning eyes. Jordan moved in alongside her as she headed toward her car.

  “Shouldn’t you get back inside before you get in trouble?” Roxanne wasn’t sure where she would go now, maybe to the police station.

  But she knew she couldn’t talk to Jordan right now without exploding. The detective had made it sound like she was out of line for discussing this case. And she was too pissed and tired to hear the same from Jordan.

  “Jordan!” Joe Dixon hurried out of the restaurant, his wallet in hand.

  She turned to see the man try to stuff the wallet into his back pants pocket as he approached them. His expression showed his annoyance that he’d been walked out on.

  Well, good! She was glad she wasn’t the only one who was annoyed.

  Jordan turned to confront his private investigator. “Do you think those cops downtown can do a better job of questioning her than you or I can?” he hissed at the man.

  Joe Dixon wasn’t daunted. He stared at Jordan, not answering immediately, and then turned his gaze to Roxanne. She could feel the testosterone running thick through the air. Roxanne wouldn’t call these two friends but she had a feeling that the two men had known each other prior to Mr. Dixon being contracted to find Hall Enterprises’ thieves. There was that relaxed air between the two of them. Neither was sizing the other up. They appeared to know and appreciate the other’s abilities and now would counter each other over who would do what.

  She studied both of them as they slowly turned their attention toward her. Both were casually dressed in jeans with haggard expressions lining their faces, although Jordan had a sex appeal that emanated from him, and Roxanne could feel the strength of it consume her like a strong drink.

  She shouldn’t have any feelings toward Jordan, yet just standing here, she wanted him. More than anything she would love for him to pull her into his arms, hold her, let her feel his hard body pressing against hers.

  But all he had he wanted was to use her, possess her like some kind of trinket, and then prance off to whichever woman he chose to be with next.

  Not to mention that he hadn’t called her the night before. She worked alongside him, almost as a partner, yet he hadn’t deemed it worth his time to consult with her before going after Aaron. That showed her what he thought of her mind. All he wanted was her body.

  Roxanne reminded herself of these facts as she stood so close to him that she could lean into him with the slightest of effort. That broad, strong chest was close enough that she could feel his power, smell his cologne.

  “Miss Isley,” Joe Dixon said, ignoring the question Jordan had just asked him. “I can appreciate that you’re running scared right now but if you will talk to the two of us, explain everything to us, I’m sure things will go much easier for you.”

  “Until you get the notion out of your head that I’m some kind of criminal,” Roxanne said, as she balled her hands into fists, “then I have no desire to talk to either one of you.”

  Roxanne turned around quickly, allowing her hair to fly over her shoulder, and yanked her car door open. She felt lightheaded for a moment from her quick movement and lack of sleep, but the car door braced her and she felt certain that neither man noticed. She slid into her seat behind the steering wheel and then slammed her car door shut.

  “Jordan,” she heard Mr. Dixon yell, as Jordan bounded over to his own car and then disappeared from her sight.

  Roxanne didn’t bother to watch what the private investigator did but started her car up and backed out of her stall and into the street. She could see Jordan’s Porsche appear in her rearview mirror and knew that if he planned on following her that there was no way she could outrun him in her Probe.

  Tears stung her eyes, yet she accelerated slowly, grateful for the small town and the few cars on the road during the middle of the day. At the end of the block she slowed and then stopped at the flashing red light that hung from wires above the intersection. Roxanne drew a blank when she tried to remember which way to turn to get back to the motel. She could see Jordan’s Porsche idling behind her through her rearview mirror, and didn’t want to just sit here and look like a fool.

  “I can’t believe he would think that I would steal from him,” she cried out, and pounded her steering wheel with her fist.

  The tears fell from her eyes, tracing a moist path down her cheeks. Jordan remained behind her as she slowly managed to find her way through the small town, and when she pulled into the motel parking lot, she noticed another car behind the Porsche enter the lot too. Roxanne guessed Joe Dixon had followed as well.

  Roxanne parked and pulled her motel key from her purse and glanced at the number. She stared through tear-blurred vision at the green doors that lined the two-story motel. She felt more than drained as she got out of the car and started to walk toward the building.

  “I’m going to talk to her alone and that is final,” she heard Jordan say from behind her, but she ignored the rest of the conversation.

  She had driven up here to help, to do what she could to get Aaron Tipley out of jail. But even in her current state of exhaustion, she knew that if she walked into the jail, more than likely they would arrest her too. She couldn’t afford to end up in a jail cell when there was a thief running free and probably laughing at all of them right now.

  Jordan reached her before she reached her motel door and tried to take her motel key from her hand.

  “Leave me alone,” she cried, and pulled her hand back so he couldn’t take the key.

  A strong arm wrapped around her shoulders and her face was smashed into Jordan’s broad chest. His scent consumed her senses, and Roxanne felt herself grow weak. Jordan’s hand slipped over her hand that held the key and took it from her without resistance on her part. “I have no intention of leaving you alone, lady,” he whispered into her hair.

  “You aren’t going to do anyone any good when you’re so upset,” he continued as he unlocked the door, and with his arm still around her, led her into the room.

  She didn’t fight him and he guided her to the table next to the closed curtains and pulled out a chair for her to sit. She plop
ped down and all he could do for a moment was stroke her hair, wanting more than anything to ease her frustration, assure her that everything would be fine in no time. Unfortunately, he had no idea how long it would take to clear up this mess.

  The door to the motel room remained open and Joe Dixon appeared in the doorway.

  “So what Layette tells me is true then?” Dixon asked. “The two of you have some sort of relationship?”

  “Yes.” Jordan didn’t hesitate. He had no desire to keep Roxanne a secret. Roxanne stood, not commenting, and headed toward the bathroom. He watched her go, wanting to go with her, comfort her. But unless she planned on crawling out of the window, she wasn’t going anywhere. And regardless of Dixon and Layette’s suspicions, he had no doubt of her innocence.

  “Jordan, be very careful,” Dixon said, still standing in the doorway. “We’ve discussed all of this and you agreed with me when you were thinking clearly, that what I said had merit.”

  Roxanne didn’t quite understand Joe Dixon’s words, but she didn’t like the sound of them. She turned before reaching the alcove leading to the bathroom and faced the man in her doorway, silhouetted by the bright morning sun.

  “I’m not sure what you are implying, Mr. Dixon,” she said coldly, “but I will make one thing perfectly clear. Mr. Hall told you we had a relationship, not me. This man is pursuing me, not the other way around. I’m not trying to wrap my legs around anyone, and I am definitely not stealing the man’s money.”

  The room was silent. Both men stared at her. She turned and left them to enter the bathroom, and felt a smug satisfaction in slamming the door on them.

  Chapter Thirteen

  When Roxanne left the bathroom some time later, she was rather surprised to discover she was alone in the motel room. She stood in the middle of the room for a minute, somewhat disappointed that Jordan had left her.

  “I guess your words hit home,” she said to herself, and wandered over to peek out the window.