“Where are you?”
“Busy. What’s up?”
“Christ, Hodges. You picked a hell of a day to call in sick, you know that? I’m in the hospital right now with Alex Lovell.”
“The PI?”
“The PI. She took a beating off some ski-mask guy at her office this morning. He came in looking for Courtney, and the sonovabitch gave her a concussion. A split lip, too. She’s a mess—”
“Did she give up Courtney?”
Pause. “Hey, she’s okay, by the way. Thanks for asking. And she didn’t give up Courtney, but the asshole took her computer, so it’s possible he’s got a location. Alex said they traded e-mails maybe a week ago. Luckily, we got the perp on videotape, and we’re working on an ID, so—”
“I’ll call you later.”
Will hung up and squinted at the woman crossing the street. She was blond. She wore flannel. She was heading for the grocery store, and she looked all wrong except…
That walk. He’d know it anywhere. She wore jeans and hiking boots, but that walk was all spike heels and attitude. She entered the exit door, and Will’s heart gave a kick.
He eased from the cover of the blind.
Courtney pushed up on her palms and arched into cobra pose on the narrow balcony just outside her room. She gazed at the sky. It had gone dark already as dusk settled over the canyon. She took a deep, cleansing breath, and allowed herself one more moment of tranquility before she went inside for a shower.
A flicker of movement caught her eye.
She scanned the pine-covered hillside. Was someone…? No, it was a squirrel. She took another deep breath and told herself to relax. She’d been jumpy all day.
She stood up and stretched her arms above her head. She felt warm. Loose. Rejuvenated after her half hour routine. It wasn’t as vigorous as Bikram yoga, which required a 105-degree room, but it made her feel good.
She pulled her towel off the banister and blotted her face. A breeze rippled over the hillside, and the pines swayed. She scanned the woods again, letting her gaze pause on all the deep, dark shadows. There was no one out there.
She tugged the sliding-glass door open and went inside. Several bags of groceries sat on the bed, and she culled through them. She found soap and a razor, and went into the bathroom to clean up.
The water pressure was low again, so she didn’t linger. It was no secret why Pauline offered these rooms to staffers—they were minuscule, had outdated plumbing, and faced the hillside instead of the canyon. Plus they needed a makeover.
Courtney whisked back the orange-and-aqua shower curtain and wrapped a towel around her body.
She went into the bedroom and rummaged through the dresser. Hmm…flannel nightshirt or cotton? Neither of her Walmart purchases held much appeal. She was homesick for her wardrobe, for something cool and silky to slip over her skin tonight. She settled for some lace undies and a black tank top. She dropped the towel and dressed, then opened the minifridge and searched for some dinner.
More tantalizing choices—yogurt, apples, or the remaining half of the club sandwich she’d had for dinner yesterday. The menu at the inn was getting repetitive, so she reached for an apple.
A draft tickled her skin, and she turned around. The drapes fluttered near the balcony. She’d left the door open?
A shadow shifted in the corner. She jumped backward.
“Hello, C.J.”
CHAPTER 21
Will.
She dropped the apple on her foot, and it rolled under the bed. “How did you get here?”
He stepped closer. “Drove.”
“No, but…” She stared up at him. Several days’ worth of beard covered his jaw, and something dangerous flashed in his eyes.
“But how’d you get in?”
“It wasn’t locked.”
She turned toward the balcony. It had to be ten feet off the ground—
He shoved a pair of jeans into her hands. “Get dressed. We’re leaving.”
“What?”
“We’re leaving. Now.”
“I’m not leaving. I’m not going anywhere!”
But he wasn’t listening. He snagged her backpack off the chair and stuffed her purse inside it. Then he went in the bathroom and she heard her toiletries being shoveled off the counter.
“Wait. Wait!” She stalked in behind him, but the bathroom wasn’t large enough for both of them, and she was squeezed up against the wall. She’d forgotten how big he was.
He zipped her pack and shouldered it. “We need to get moving.”
He took her arm and pulled her toward the door just as someone knocked.
They halted and looked at each other.
He was here. She couldn’t believe it, except that his hand was clamped around her elbow like a vice. He gazed down at her, and his face was so beautifully familiar, and she wanted to hug him. He’d come after her. There was something miraculous about that, something that made her throat tighten and her eyes sting.
“Ask who it is.” He spoke so low, she could barely hear.
She cleared her throat. “Who is it?”
“It’s me.”
Pauline. She shook Will’s grip off and cracked the door. “Hi.” Courtney was half naked and had wet hair, and she hoped Pauline would figure she’d interrupted her shower.
“Sorry to bother you, C.J., but you had an urgent message from your sister. She said for you to call home.”
How had Fiona known where to find her? Had Will told her?
“Thanks.” Courtney forced a smile. “I’ll take care of it.”
She closed the door and turned around, and Will was right there behind her, his arms crossed over his chest.
She couldn’t believe he was here, in Silver Creek. They stood there gazing at each other in the lamplight, and four weeks of emotion crackled between them. He was angry. And something else, too, something she recognized in stantly as his gaze slid over her bare legs and up again. Her pulse jumped, and he eased forward.
He clamped her arm again, and she thought he was pulling her toward the bed, but he kept going, to the sliding-glass door that stood open.
“This way.”
“It’s two stories up!”
“I’ll help you.” He grabbed her jeans off the bed and shoved them at her yet a second time, and she knew if she didn’t put them on, she’d be wandering around the woods in bikini underwear.
She pulled on the pants. Will watched her zip up and fasten the snap. She started to slide her feet into flip-flops.
“Get your hiking boots.”
Her eyes narrowed. How long had he been watching her? She retrieved her Timberland boots from the closet and quickly put them on over the dirty socks she’d left stuffed inside them.
Then she followed him out onto the balcony. “Can’t we use the door like normal people?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
In answer to her question, another knock sounded across the room.
“Don’t worry, I’ll catch you.”
She watched, shocked, as he stepped over the railing and pivoted his body. Then dropped into the darkness and landed with a soft thump.
Hello? No way was she flinging herself off a balcony! She peered over the railing at him and shook her head.
He nodded and motioned her down.
She shook her head again.
He nodded yes.
The knock came again, harder.
What was this? She hadn’t had a visitor in weeks, and now her room was Grand Central Station. She gazed back at the door, then down at Will, who looked extremely impatient.
Fine. This wasn’t the craziest thing she’d ever done, but it was up there, maybe top ten. She hoisted herself onto the railing and swung her legs over. He positioned himself beneath her and held out his arms.
“If you drop me,” she hissed down, “I’ll never forgive you.” Then she closed her eyes and pushed off.
He caught her. Just like that. And she was tucked u
p against his chest, staring up at him, wondering what the hell sort of danger she was in that had him driving nine hundred miles and jumping off balconies.
Then he dropped one of his arms, and her feet hit the ground. He took her hand and pulled her toward the woods.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Anywhere but here.”
He towed Courtney behind him, cursing mentally every time he heard the snap and crunch of her footsteps. They might as well have been hiking through the woods with a tambourine. With her hand tightly in his, he skirted the perimeter of the property until he saw the inviting glow of the Silver Creek Inn visitors’ entrance.
He turned to Courtney. “Stay here. If you’re gone when I get back, I will find you, and I will be pissed.”
Before she could respond, he slipped into the woods and approached the portico where several vehicles were parked, presumably awaiting check-in. The minivan had been there earlier, when Will first scoped out the hotel, but the teal Chrysler Sebring was a new arrival. Will spotted a sticker on the bumper and confirmed his suspicion that it was a rental car. He considered approaching it to check it out, maybe get a glimpse of any paperwork inside, but then a woman and young girl exited the hotel lobby and walked toward the minivan.
Will had two choices. He could get back to Courtney or he could go after whoever it was who’d come looking for her. The last option was tempting. Alarmingly so. He could envision himself snapping someone’s neck in these woods, and the fact that he really wanted to scared him. But his mission was find and retrieve. And the thing he’d spent four weeks finding could be getting lost again at this very moment.
Another tourist stepped out of the hotel. He carried a fishing rod and tackle box, and Will made up his mind. There were too many civilians around here to risk a confrontation.
He retraced his steps and found Courtney exactly where he’d left her, in a clump of trees southwest of the inn.
“Hey,” he whispered.
She jumped and whirled around. Then she punched him in the arm. “Don’t do that!”
“Keep your voice down.”
“Where did you go?”
“Reconnaissance.” He took her hand again and started back into the woods, but she jerked herself free.
“Tell me what’s going on.” She was whispering, but she was angry.
“Later.”
“I need a phone. I have to call Fiona.”
“Why?”
“There’s some emergency going on at home.”
He pulled her deeper into the trees and lowered his voice. “Did you tell Fiona you were here?” he asked.
“No, I thought you did.”
“And were you expecting company? Tonight at your room?”
“No. I don’t know anyone here except my boss and my coworkers.”
He exhaled, surprised at his relief. He’d prepared himself for the possibility that she’d met someone here.
“There’s no emergency,” he said.
“How do you know?”
“I’ll explain later. Right now we need to get going.” He took her hand—more firmly this time—and pulled her through the forest. “Try not to sound like a herd of elephants.”
Sufficiently insulted, she followed him through the trees and foliage more quietly than before. They didn’t speak. Her breath came faster as they moved uphill, away from the road, but she kept up. He heard little noises every now and then and knew she was getting all scratched up. Why couldn’t she have picked a long-sleeved shirt tonight? Or long underwear, for that matter? That little lacy thing was becoming a distraction as they raced through the woods together, her panting behind him in the dark.
They neared the campground, and he slowed the pace so he could pay closer attention. He led her down a hillside to the northwest corner of the camping area, where his Chevy waited. He scanned the vicinity and noted three new vehicles since this afternoon: two aluminum campers, both hitched to pickups, and a full-size RV. With their cook stoves and lanterns, the people hanging around looked like legitimate tourists. Will dug his keys out of his pocket and led Courtney to the passenger’s side of the Suburban. He unlocked the door for her and held it open. She climbed in without a word.
His temper resurfaced as he went around to the driver’s side. He’d had this thing thirteen years, even bothering to store it at his uncle’s deer lease while he’d been oconus. Will wasn’t sentimental about much in his life, but this truck meant something to him. Maybe because he’d earned the money for it working his ass off two summers in a row. Or maybe because as a teenager, he’d gotten lucky in the back of it more times than he could count. But whatever the reason, it still irked him that Courtney had swiped it out from under his nose.
He slid behind the wheel and looked at her. “You owe me two hundred bucks.”
She stared at him. She had little cuts on her face from crashing through the woods, and he started to feel guilty. But then she crossed her arms and looked ahead. “Nice greeting.”
“Nice exit,” he retorted, and instantly regretted it. All the way up here, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t go there. He didn’t want to talk about her walking out because it just pissed him off.
“I never stole your money,” she said.
“Stole my truck.” He started it up. “Same thing.”
“Borrowed. Not stole.”
“Yeah, well it cost me two hundred bucks to get it back, so you owe me.”
She pursed those pretty lips of hers. Everything about her looked so goddamn familiar. Except her hair. He couldn’t believe she was a blonde.
“How did you find me?”
“It wasn’t that hard.”
“Bullshit. It was the phone call, wasn’t it? You tapped Fiona’s phone. I hope you had a warrant, because if you didn’t, she’ll sue your butt off.”
He almost laughed. She thought he was scared of a lawsuit? He rested an elbow on the seat and leaned toward her. “Running was a bad idea, Courtney. All you did was make things worse.”
She looked at him with disdain. Then she turned away. “You smell like dirt.”
Shaking his head, he put the truck in gear. He drove across the campground and turned east onto the highway.
“How do you know there’s no emergency?” she asked.
He glanced over at her. Even in the dimness, he could see the worry on her face. She probably thought something had happened to Fiona. He felt oddly satisfied to see her fear, to watch her get a taste of what it was like to be twisted up with worry, like her sister had been these past four weeks. Like he had been.
She’s a tough person to care about. Will swallowed down the bitterness, and he shifted his gaze to the road.
“It was most likely a ploy,” he told her. “Someone got a tip-off you were in town. Probably checked out likely places you’d be staying. When they found someone who fit, they left you a message, then the manager pointed them straight to your door.”
“Who would do all that?”
“Same people who killed Alvin. And Eve Caldwell. And Martin Pembry, and probably that other attorney, Lindsey Kahn.”
The road stretched out before them, along with the silence. She was safe. She was right here. But he still didn’t feel right, yet. There was too much that needed saying, but saying things—especially emotional things—wasn’t something he did well.
Or ever.
She turned to look out the window and sighed wistfully. “I liked Silver Creek.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “It was beautiful. And quiet.”
“Hell of a place to hide.”
She turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”
“It’s a box canyon, Courtney. It’s a nightmare. One way in. One way out.” He gritted his teeth, still annoyed that she’d picked such a place. The damn town was surrounded by three walls of rock. Scenic, yes, but a literal dead end if someone had found her there.
Which they had.
Will thought back
to the Sebring. Whoever had come calling tonight had missed his mark by about two minutes. It was much too close a call.
“Am I under arrest?”
He cut a glance at her. “Maybe.”
“What does that mean? Fiona said there was a warrant.”
“It means behave yourself or I’ll haul you to the nearest jail.”
She rolled her eyes and huffed out a breath, and his pulse picked up for some reason. He’d missed that attitude of hers, and seeing it again was doing funny things to him. He wanted to pull over right now and drag her into his lap. He wanted to pull over right now and spank some sense into her.
Instead, he drove. And drove. He felt her sitting just inches away from him, getting more anxious by the minute. She didn’t like her new predicament, and he’d bet anything she was plotting a way to get out of it.
The juncture finally appeared, and he turned south on the four-lane highway that would lead them to I-40.
She shook her head. “This is illegal, you know. You haven’t read me my rights.”
“You’re not under arrest.” There wasn’t even a warrant out on her anymore, but he kept that to himself. He’d have no trouble coming up with a reason to arrest her. If he pushed the right buttons, it would take him about two seconds to have her on assaulting a police officer.
“So what the hell is this? I’m being held against my will. It’s unlawful imprisonment.”
“Yeah, sorry ’bout that. Maybe I should have left you back in the canyon, see how long you would have lasted against some hired gun.”
He flipped on the radio and turned the dial until he got a staticky country-music station. He hadn’t realized how angry he was until now. Four weeks of agonizing, and now that he finally had her safe, he wanted to yell at her. This was going to be a long drive. He checked the speedometer, then the clock. He was eager to put some distance between the Suburban and Silver Creek. He also needed to make sure they weren’t being followed.
He thought back to Devereaux’s call. They had the ski-mask guy on videotape, which put Courtney completely in the clear. Now they just had to find the guy—or guys—and pin down who’d hired him. Will’s bet was Wilkers, whose east Texas company owned a black Cadillac Escalade and who had profited handsomely from the LivTech case.
Whisper of Warning Page 25