“Someone’s knocking on the door.”
Taking great care with her movements, she shifted enough to allow him to stand. He regretted it at once. He just learned the locations of several muscles he hadn’t known existed until they protested the motion. He padded to the door and took a look through the peephole. He sighed when he saw two unfamiliar men in uniforms standing to either side. Unless he came up with a pretty good story and fast, it appeared he’d just lost the argument with Joan.
“It’s the police.”
Joan sat up in the bed and pulled the comforter to her chin.
He could see the motion cost her. He imagined she was feeling as beat up as he was. Perhaps worse even. With a resigned sigh, he disengaged the lock on the door and opened it.
A couple badges were shoved in his face. “I’m Sherriff Barley and this is Deputy Coolidge. We’d like to ask you a couple of questions.” The larger man in front stepped forward so he was blocking the door’s path if Tom had a mind to close it on him. His eyes scanned the room. They landed on Joan for a brief moment before moving on. At last, they settled back on Tom.
“You may,” Tom granted the request with a slight nod of his head like he’d seen his father do so many times when his subjects brought a matter before him. It wasn’t until he noted the man’s raised brow at the gesture that Tom remembered he needed to tone it down. The officer seemed to brush it off easy enough. He gestured to their car in the parking lot.
“Is that your car?”
Tom held the man’s gaze. “Not exactly. We ‘borrowed’ it from the men who tried to kill us last night.”
Whatever the men had been expecting, that wasn’t it. The sheriff exchanged a look with his deputy. His eyes came back to Tom. They observed the bruise on his chest much like Joan’s had done. Although the man’s gaze didn’t have quite the same effect on him hers had. Tom stood back inviting the men in.
“Perhaps you’d like us to explain.”
The sheriff nodded. “Nothing I’d like more at this moment.”
The man took off his hat when he stepped into the tiny room. His deputy stepped in behind him, but stayed close to the door. Tom turned to see the panic on Joan’s face.
“I’m not exactly dressed for company,” she said in quiet tones. Tom gave her a smile.
“I’m sure our guests won’t mind if you take a moment to prepare.” He leveled a look on the men that left no doubt he expected no objections.
Keeping a hand on his gun, Deputy Coolidge strode across the room and checked inside the small bathroom.
“It’s clear.”
Sheriff Barley nodded. Tom could tell Joan was mortified by the heightened color in her cheeks. Still, she held her head high when she climbed from the bed, scooped the bags of clothes and toiletries from the credenza and swept into the bathroom. She would have done his mother proud with her regal bearing. That bearing never wavered when the deputy stopped her and examined the contents of the bag.
After she disappeared inside the small bathroom, Tom returned his attention to the two officers. Seeing their starched uniforms was a reminder of his own shirtless state. He reached for the bag of clothes he’d bought for himself and noted that Joan must have taken both in the bathroom with her. She wouldn’t have known it wasn’t all for her. Holding back a resigned sigh, he leveled a look on the sheriff and gestured to one of the chairs flanking the table by the door.
“Won’t you both have a seat?” Tom offered; his regal upbringing made the manners surface naturally as breathing. The sheriff nodded. The man angled the chair so he could see every corner of the room then sat. The deputy took up a sentinel post behind the door to the outside. Tom got the impression the man selected the spot in case he and Joan decided to make a run for it.
Fat chance the way his entire body ached. He couldn’t imagine she’d fared any better.
“Why don’t you tell me your version of how you came to be in possession of that rental car outside?” the sheriff hung his hat on his knee and pulled out a small notepad and pen.
“You don’t want to wait for Joan? I’m sure she’ll be finished at any moment.”
“Nah. Why don’t we get started with you?” The man uncapped his pen and held it at the ready. “Let’s start with your name.”
Tom gave a nod of consent. “I’m Saracen Tomas de Raffertias du Bacoeur, crown prince of Rafferstonia.”
The sheriff raised an eyebrow but didn’t otherwise move.
“But you checked into this room under the name Tom Rafferty.”
“Yes. That is the name I’ve used while visiting this country.
Americans are quite uncomfortable with my full name. I decided to spare you the inconvenience.” Not quite the complete truth, but it would do.
The sheriff exchanged a look with his deputy which Tom had no trouble discerning was incredulous. Still, the man didn’t write anything down.
“Do you have any ID, Tom? May I call you Tom?”
“Of course. And no, I don’t. Everything in my wallet identifies me as Tom Rafferty. I suspect you would need a look at my passport.”
“Where is your passport?”
“Joan and I had to leave Los Angeles in a relative hurry. The men who are after us broke into both of our residences. We had no choice but to leave.”
“Los Angeles, you say?” The sheriff nodded and scribbled on his notepad. “And, Joan, is it? Is she using a fake name, too? Is she princess of… where was it you said?”
Tom narrowed his gaze at the man. The humoring tone grated on his nerves. He and Joan both had counted on any authorities they spoke with to believe his identity. Judging by this man’s reaction, perhaps it had been a blessing they hadn’t encountered the American authorities until now.
“She’s an American citizen. We met the day before yesterday.”
The sheriff and deputy exchanged another look. The sheriff’s eyes flicked to the bed then back to Tom. His hackles rose. Despite his sore muscles, he straightened his spine and stared the man down with every ounce of royalty he had in him.
“I don’t believe I care for your implication, sir. Joan is an upstanding woman of unquestionable moral character.”
“I’m sure you understand how it looks—”
“I don’t care how it looks. She sustained a nasty bump on the head when we were run off the road last night. I was not about to leave her on her own.”
“Tom?” Joan’s soft voice behind him cut into his tirade right when he was getting wound up. She was wearing one of the t-‐-shirts he’d purchased for himself with a pair of his new sweatpants. Had she not found the clothes he’d bought for her?
“Joan?” He stood and went to her. “What happened to the clothes I bought for you?”
She gave him a little smile, but her eyes flicked past him to the policemen. The sheriff stood at her entrance which made Tom grant him a few points. Maybe the man had manners after all.
“They’re a bit small.” A blush tinged her cheeks. “Are things okay out here?”
Tom sent a warning glance at the sheriff then smiled at her.
“Of course they are. How are you feeling?”
“Even my ears ache, but I’ll live.” She strode over to the sheriff and extended a hand to him. He shook her hand. “I’m Joan Smith.” The sheriff and deputy exchanged another of those looks Tom was growing to hate. Joan didn’t seem to mind. She laughed instead. “I get that all the time. It’s such a nondescript name. But it is mine. For better or worse.”
“Sheriff Barley. He’s Deputy Coolidge.” She turned to shake the other man’s hand then sat in the chair nearest the door. Tom searched through the bags she’d put back on the credenza for the other shirts he’d purchased. He was thankful he’d purchased each of them three sets of clothes. He hadn’t counted on her wearing his, though.
“The two of you beat us to the punch.”
Sheriff Barley frowned. “What do you mean, ma’am?”
“We were coming to see you when we woke
up. Last night was quite a night. I think we need some help.”
“Do you need help?” The sheriff leaned forward and stared at Joan with compassion in his eyes. Tom didn’t like the look at all.
Nor did he like the slight emphasis the man put on the word ‘you’
or what he was implying. Tom managed to keep from rolling his eyes and sat on the bed to rejoin the conversation. The tiny shift the man made to put himself between Tom and Joan annoyed him even further.
“Oh for–” Tom began, but Joan cut him off.
“We. As in the both of us.” She slanted a smile at Tom.
“Although, Mr. Macho over there thinks we can handle this ourselves.”
The sheriff relaxed his posture a bit although the deputy remained watchful. “Maybe you better tell us what’s going on here.” “What were you guys out here talking about for all that time? The weather?” Joan looked at each of the men in turn.
“Typical.”
****
Joan settled back in her chair and met the sheriff’s eye. “We need help because a bank in L.A. tried to swindle Tom out of his money and he called them on it. We stopped here because we couldn’t go on any longer. I didn’t think we’d be able last long enough to meet Tom’s head of security so I suggested we contact you. But you got here first.”
After recounted everything they’d been through over the last couple of days, Joan sucked in a well-‐-deserved breath. She couldn’t believe it. Just three days ago, she’d never even met Tom Rafferty. To think that such a short time later she was waking up in the man’s arms and totally cool with it. She still ached, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a wonderful night’s sleep.
“That’s quite a tale, young lady,” the sheriff said after a long moment of silence. “Got something to back up anything you say?”
Hadn’t the man been listening? She’d told him all this was because of the video. Of course she could back up what she said.
Instead of letting her annoyance show, she stood and crossed the room to retrieve her camera. She replaced the memory card and powered it on. Her relief morphed to frustration when the lens opened and fell off the camera.
“Crap.”
Tom stood and crossed to her. “Do you think it’ll still play?”
“I don’t know. It must have gotten pretty beat up when we crashed last night.” She turned to look at the two officers. “Do you have a computer? We can watch it there.”
Joan didn’t like the look the two men gave each other. She looked to Tom. Joan saw the same foreboding in his eyes when he met her gaze. So perhaps this hadn’t gone quite like she’d planned.
In her defense, however, she would have checked the camera out long before telling that long tale to anyone, much less the police who appeared ready to toss them in a cell and melt the key.
Chapter Thirteen
Tom studied Joan who was seated beside him. That was the single fortunate thing about this whole mess that he could think of.
He should be feeling triumphant that he’d been right. Instead, all he could do was sympathize with her obvious misery that she’d been wrong in expecting the police to help them.
They bounced over a rut in the road and she fell against him.
He tried to steady her, but his cuffed hands made the move awkward and unhelpful. She gave him a small smile in acceptance of the gesture then righted herself the best she could with her own hands shackled together. At least the sheriff hadn’t deemed them dangerous enough to cuff their hands behind their backs.
Tom returned his attention to the passing countryside. In other circumstances, meaning any which didn’t involve him being carted around in the back of a cop’s SUV like some common criminal, he would enjoy the scenery. Everything was wide open spaces in every direction. He could imagine the dangers the land possessed, but that didn’t stop him from enjoying the sight of his first tumbleweed. It was smaller than he’d imagined it would be after seeing them in movies, but it did tumble and that was enough for him. If he were driving this stretch of road alone, he’d pull over and investigate further. He was quite curious to see what it felt like.
He reflected over the past few days when he’d driven across several American states. He regretted that the drives had been made at night for the most part. There was no telling how many wonderful sights he’d missed seeing while in the dark. He pondered the cuffs. No matter. He’d make time for another drive after they resolved this unfortunate mess.
He wasn’t happy about leaving the resolution in the hands of American authorities, but at this point, he had no choice. It wouldn’t take much to confirm his identity. From there he would make whatever demands he deemed necessary and see which ones were met.
He looked at Joan again. He hated that she didn’t have the same protection. A crazy idea teased the edge of his consciousness.
Before it could take shape, he snuffed it out. It would be ludicrous for him to marry her just to keep her out of jail. Although, there was a loan he could call in on her government. That would achieve the same result.
“You folks recognize this area?” Sheriff Barley cut into his thoughts giving him a needed interruption. Tom focused his attention back out the window to take a look. He glanced at Joan and saw a puzzled look on her face which likely mirrored his own.
“Should we?” Joan asked.
“It’s where you would’ve run off the road, if you’re telling me the truth.” Sheriff Barley stared at both of them in the rearview mirror. Deputy Coolidge trailed behind them in his own county vehicle.
Tom took a careful look around the area, but nothing was familiar. They hadn’t taken the highway so he had no sense of where they were.
“Wait. Isn’t that the bridge we hit?” Joan sat forward and nodded down the road.
The sheriff didn’t snort, but his tone did it for him. “Honey, if you hit that bridge and went off the road you wouldn’t still be here to tell about it.”
But Joan wasn’t to be deterred. “That’s gotta be it. Just look.
Please.”
“This better not be a waste of my time. I shoulda already had you back to the office for booking.” Still, Sheriff Barley slowed the SUV and pulled to the side of the road a few hundred yards away from the bridge. “I’m going to take a look.”
“Let us come with you.” Tom insisted.
The sheriff twisted in his seat to look at them. “You all wouldn’t be foolish enough to try to make a run for it out here, would ya?” He gestured at the land that was a whole lot more barren than Tom would’ve believed after scrabbling up the canyon the night before. “I would warn you about all the dangerous critters that come out after dark and how it’s not safe, but the truth of the matter is I just don’t feel like chasing you down.”
“We’re not going to make a run for it. We don’t know where we are, much less where ‘it’ is.”
Tom’s lips quirked at her sassy reply. It was about time she turned that acerbic tongue loose on somebody else for a change. He was also glad to note it wasn’t just him who got on her nerves.
Sheriff Barley raised an eyebrow and stared her down. Joan stared back. The man broke first causing a spot of pride to bloom in Tom’s chest. It was a little victory, but given how few battles they’d won over the past few days, he’d take it.
The sheriff climbed out of the SUV and opened the door for Joan who had been seated behind him. She slid out of the vehicle with a jerky motion due to the cuffs throwing off her balance, but at last she was standing beside Barley waiting for Tom to slide across the seat and join them.
Once Tom was out of the vehicle, Deputy Coolidge jogged up behind them.
“This here the spot?”
“So they tell me.” Barley slapped his hat on his head then planted his hands on his hips. “You take the rear, Coolidge.” He nodded to Tom and Joan. “You two lead the way.”
Tom walked ahead of Joan, but she scrambled to catch up.
Barley fell in behind
them while Coolidge parked his vehicle in back of the SUV then brought up the rear. Tom squinted his eyes while he studied the bridge. The metal support wasn’t dented, but a large streak of green paint was visible. He nodded toward the pole. “That’s what we hit before we went over the side.” Sheriff Barley followed Tom’s gaze and noted the damage.
“All that tells me is you were in an accident and never reported it.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Joan glared at the man. “What do you think happened out here? You act like we were out joyriding instead of running for our lives.”
“Until I see evidence to the contrary, that’s a much more plausible scenario.” He shot a look in Tom’s direction. “I mean, it’s not every day we get a visit from royalty. What we do get are swindlers and crooks. Until I’m satisfied you’re not either, I’m going with that one.”
“What possible reason could we have to make up such an unbelievable tale?” Joan pressed on. “Shouldn’t we have some kind of motivation to tell you all this if it weren’t the truth?”
“In my experience, motivation becomes clear when the suspects are pressed far enough. I’m curious to see how far you’re going to take this charade.”
Joan opened her mouth to argue, but Tom squeezed her shoulder. When he had her attention he shook his head. Seeing must be believing for the sheriff. So Tom figured it’d be best to show the man the wrecked car.
She nodded. The two of them headed toward the canyon edge and gazed down. Tom wasn’t sure what he expected to find, but the scattered bits of his vehicle hadn’t been high on the list. If Joan’s sudden intake of breath was any indication, she was as surprised as he at the automotive pieces littering the side of the canyon wall just before a steep drop off.
The setting sun glinted off the underbelly of the car. Three of the four tires were missing and who knew what else. One door was open, but bent almost in half due to the uncustomary weight now resting on it. His heart beat a little faster at the thought that he and Joan had been inside it when it had landed there.
Royal Opposites Page 11