He couldn’t be prouder of this woman he had once loved. Once? The rogue thought caught him off guard. Leaning against the wall, he watched the ebb and flow of people and tried to push the question away.
Liz was still under his skin and he was beginning to suspect she always would be. He nodded at a security guard on the other side of the aisle. So far, the session had been uneventful. Good for safety. Bad for distraction.
He’d take uneventful every time. Liz’s schedule was drawing to a close and he was anxious to take her somewhere more secure. Rosche was interviewing Malcovitch now and if the man cracked, maybe they could get this threat uncovered and dealt with.
Until then he had to decide what the next step was. Back to the station? His cabin? He hitched his thumbs in his belt loops. California?
Liz looked up and smiled at him. His heart skipped the next few beats. All he knew for now was that he wasn’t leaving her side.
His phone rang and he pulled it from his pocket. “Price.”
“You’ll never believe what happened.” Rosche was out of breath.
“What?”
“Sammy Malcovitch is dead.”
Cold shock obliterated his hope that Malcovitch could lead them to Kris. “How?”
“Remember our guy from the hospital?”
Riggen shuddered. He remembered.
“Somehow he got to Sammy with a homemade knife. Stabbed him before the guards could intervene. Sammy bled out in the yard.”
Riggen stood straighter. “What was the fight about?”
Rosche drew a breath so sharp it reverberated in his ear. “That’s the strangest part. You.”
Everything slowed around him. He crossed his arms and focused on the waning crowd. “Me?”
“Appears he formed some type of bond with you and appointed himself your protector.”
I knew a woman with hair like that once. “What does he think I need protection from?”
“That’s where it gets interesting. If he can be trusted, he said the word was Sammy was finished with his revenge. He was giving his girlfriend the go-ahead to off Liz—no matter who got in the way.”
“Meaning me?”
“Exactly,” she answered.
“And by girlfriend, we’re looking for—”
“Kris.”
“Do we know if Kris got the message?”
“Can’t be sure,” Rosche replied. “Either way, she’s going to blow a gasket when she finds out he’s dead.”
He hadn’t stopped scanning the room all night but now his senses ratcheted into DEFCON 5. Fear weaseled into his gut. “We need to find Kris. Now. But she’s evaded us ever since this started.” He searched every exit and entry, analyzing each face. What if she was here now?
“We got a break.” Static from a police radio cut through their conversation and Rosche put him on hold. When she came back, she was rushed, ready to get off the phone. “Carr sent Jones out twenty minutes ago to check into a tip. One of Kris’s neighbors thinks he saw her.”
Riggen clenched his fist. This was going to end tonight. “Let me know as soon as you have her.”
Someone was waving hands over the heads of the thinning crowd. Trevor. Riggen ended the call with Rosche as his brother approached, a statuesque blonde on his arm.
“Good to see you.” Trevor clapped his back. “Are you actually making it through a whole session? No unexpected emergencies?”
Riggen pulled Trevor into a hug, hoping the embrace would obliterate the guilt hovering above his head. How could he have thought his brother had anything to do with this mess?
“Liz is determined to see this through.” He nodded at the American Travel booth and patted his concealed weapon. “I’m equally determined to prevent unforeseen emergencies.”
“I hope that works out for you both.” Trevor inclined his head to the woman at his side. “This is Kimberly East. She was just on her way to see Liz. Thought I’d walk over with her.”
The woman who held Liz’s future in her hands reached out to shake hands with him. “Good to meet you.” She spoke with the confidence of a woman used to commanding the situation.
She jutted out a hip and rested her fist on it. “Your brother told me about what’s been happening. I’m impressed Elizabeth has carried on so well despite the challenges.”
“She’ll be a formidable force for any team fortunate enough to have her.” He beamed over Kimberly’s shoulder at Liz, not even trying to stop the pride that colored his voice.
“I believe you’re right.” Kimberly nodded as she excused herself and made a decisive march in Liz’s direction.
* * *
Liz bundled up the last of the merchandise into a cardboard box and handed it to Emily. “See you on the conference call Monday.”
Emily took the box and grinned. “Welcome to the team.”
The team. Was it possible to burst from excitement? Liz sidestepped the torn-down folding table and skipped toward Riggen. Soon she’d have Lucas back. They’d have their own home. Their own life.
She caught Riggen’s twinkling eyes. Was that pride she saw? Whatever it was, it made her stand taller. Skip faster. She felt as if she could climb to the summit of Pikes Peak. Her hard work was finally paying off.
Laughter bubbled from deep inside. Riggen had even given them a dog. Now all they needed was the picket fence. What about the husband and daddy? She flapped her hands in front of her face as the thought spread heat across her chest and up her neck. The success of the night had addled her brain.
Stopping in front of Riggen, she laced her hands together to still them. His brows lifted as if he could read the thoughts swirling through her mind. She focused on the large clock behind him while telling herself Riggen wasn’t clairvoyant. “Ready to hit the road?”
“Past ready,” he drawled.
She stuffed her hands in her pockets and rocked back on her heels. “I got the job.”
Before her next breath, she was caught up in his arms, held close to his chest. The convention center twirled around them. “Congratulations.”
Setting her down, he held her loosely, but she twisted out of his embrace. “Kim even asked me to take point on an international expo in California next month.”
Smile lines broke out in a delightful profusion across his face, stretching from the corners of his gorgeous eyes to his hairline. “I’m so proud of you, Lizzy.”
“Lucas and I can start our own life.”
The laugh lines smoothed as his face grew serious. “Will I have a place in that life?”
She wrung her hands together and shifted from one aching foot to the other. The vulnerability in his eyes wiggled behind her armor and jabbed at her heart.
She was fighting so hard against trust. What if I was wrong? What if he really wasn’t going anywhere? Some of the dazzle dimmed from her day. Lucas’s life would be so much fuller with a father, but she took a step back and hugged her arms around herself.
Her arms were a poor substitute for Riggen’s. She hated that fact, but she couldn’t yet make the jump into trust.
His jaw tightened and a mask dropped until his eyes were unreadable.
She blinked and licked her lips. Her tired brain couldn’t answer but she had to try. He deserved that much.
“Rig...” She swallowed and forged ahead. “I can’t—” The overhead lights flickered then went off. Hands landed on her arms and pulled at her. She screamed.
“It’s me.” Riggen’s voice breezed into her ear as he pulled her toward the wall that had been behind them.
Emergency lights clicked on, and the ghastly glow highlighted his face. It was hard as flint. He slid his hand down her arm and twined her fingers into his own. He was leading her along the perimeter of the room toward the exit.
Murmurs of worry and confusion rose from the remaining vendor
s as alarms began to blare. Riggen let go of her hand to palm his concealed holster. She grabbed hold of his shirttail as vendors and employees surged around them.
Security guards helmed the exits, shouting over the commotion, but anarchy was descending with alarming force. She followed Riggen step-for-step until her toe caught on a torn piece of carpet. She fell headlong into his back. Her bruised body rebelled. Her head swirled.
He reached around and steadied her. “I don’t like the feel of this,” he whispered, his breath feathering wisps of her wayward hair.
“Maybe it’s coincidence.” She gasped as his arm covered her aching shoulders. “Maybe it has nothing to do with me.” She couldn’t bring herself to believe her own words and pushed closer, huddling into his protection.
He moved them through the crush toward the door, using his forearm as a shield to push people away. “I think we’ve hit our legitimate limit of coincidences.”
Ten booths from the exit, sprinklers blasted on. Screams echoed off the walls. The level of fear in the room became tangible. Not even Riggen’s strength could keep the frantic crowd from jostling and hitting her on every side.
Her head crashed into his shoulder as someone shoved past her to the bottlenecked exit.
Riggen stopped, turned them back and retraced their steps through the melee. “This way.” He separated them from the surging herd as water poured from her drenched hair into her eyes. She squinted into the darkened space.
He was leading them to the exit they’d used the day they’d lunched with Trevor. Pushing open a side door, he pulled them into a long hallway. Exit signs flashed at the end and they fell in step, jogging through the raining mess to safety.
A door opened behind them and banged against the wall. She turned but couldn’t discern anything. Only shadows.
Something flew through the air. She screamed and Riggen spun her around, shielding her with his body. A canister clattered to the floor, crashing into the wall beside them.
Smoke seeped from it, weaving into dry air pockets around them. She coughed and gripped Riggen’s waist, pressing her face into his back. He slung his arm over her shoulder and pushed her toward the exit.
“Keep going,” he rasped.
She willed one foot in front of the other, barreling toward the saving light at the end of the corridor. Sunlight bathed her wet face as they emerged from the conference center.
Footsteps pounded down the hallway but Riggen slammed the door shut and wedged a rock under the corner. Neither one of them waited to see who would burst through the door behind them.
Sprinting her to the busy road, Riggen waved his arms wildly over his head. A cab squealed to a stop at the curb and he yanked the door open and shoved her inside.
“Hotel Kimpton,” he shouted.
She fell against Riggen’s chest, shivering in his arms as the taxi sped away from the convention center.
NINETEEN
Riggen hit End Call and tossed his phone into the Bronco’s cup holder. This was the day that kept on giving. The tip Jones had gone to check out had been a fluke. No sign of Kris Dupree at her house. No sign of her anywhere.
He climbed into the seat and looked over at Liz. He was ninety-nine-percent certain there was no sign of Kris in Manitou because she was wreaking havoc in Denver.
Liz pushed her wet hair from her face. The sprinklers had washed off her makeup. Bruises shone purple against her creamy skin. His heart couldn’t take much more.
He roared the engine to life and pulled them from the hotel’s parking garage. “What do you think about just getting out of here?”
“The expo’s over. I’m done in Denver.”
He turned onto the city street and sped through traffic. “I meant out of Colorado.”
“Leave Colorado?” He felt her tension.
“I’m done watching Kris play cat-and-mouse. You just landed the job. You said it was remote and travel work, right?” He glanced at her and she nodded. “Then there’s nothing holding you here. We can go off-grid, route our outside communications through Alex.”
She picked at her sopping pants. “Do you really think leaving the state will stop these people?”
Reaching over, he captured her hand. “Not stop. But keep you safe until Rosche catches them? It could.” He switched lanes. “Trevor offered to buy me out. That would tide us over for a while.” He thought of Jones. Hats off to someone for profiting from this mess.
“You said they were bringing Kris in tonight.”
He shook his head. “False tip.”
He could see her shoulders fall from the corner of his eye. He merged onto the highway and pressed the gas.
“Kat and John put my things in storage after the fire.” Resignation colored her voice.
He slid a look her way. “And?”
“I don’t have much. We can grab clothes. A few things for Lucas. I’ll come back for the rest when this is over.” She wrapped her arms around herself and kicked her feet up on the dash. “Who knows? It could be my next big adventure.”
Relief flooded him. There was a time for fight and a time for flight. Last time he’d run into the fight to save a family and it had blown up in his face. During this fight, he was flying his family as far away from danger as possible.
* * *
Riggen had driven Liz to her storage space and then they headed up Pikes Peak to his cabin. Jones’s patrol car was barely visible behind them through the sheets of rain. The weather and the other officer’s presence gave Liz a sense of safety.
Jones would cover the entrance to Riggen’s ranch. It was the only way in and out. Once they’d grabbed his things, they’d head down the mountain and watch Manitou Springs disappear into their rearview mirror.
Thunder rocked the Bronco as they pulled up to the cabin and lightning flashed across the mountain. Riggen picked up his phone, pressed a few buttons, then held it to his ear.
Liz listened to the one-sided conversation as Riggen tried to explain what was going on and offer his resignation. She twisted in her seat to peer down the long driveway to where Jones’s car had stopped.
Whomever Riggen was talking to wasn’t happy. The voice blistered across the phone line, competing with the summer storm outside. She doubted the man at the bottom of the driveway was quite as upset at the thought of Riggen leaving.
Riggen’s jawline radiated purpose and he held a finger up to her while climbing from the Bronco to take a few steps away and continuing the heated conversation on the porch of the Price cabin. He paced back and forth, the stony set of his face unyielding.
When he finally stuffed his phone back in his pocket, she rolled down her window and leaned out. “Boss not happy?”
He dashed through the rain and leaned in the open window. Droplets fell from his white cowlick onto her lap. He rubbed the back of his neck. “In a word? No. Good thing it’s not his decision.”
She bit her lip, trying to brush aside the bees that buzzed through her stomach. This wasn’t right. He wasn’t her fiancé anymore. He shouldn’t be uprooting his life to take care of her.
Clasping her hands together, she glanced at the shadowy tree line over his shoulder. Reality seemed to shift. Riggen Price had abandoned her five years ago. She squinted at him, watching rain rivulets run down his face. Now, no matter what happened, he was sticking to her closer than a cactus bur. He’s changed.
“Hey—” he traced a wet finger down her cheek “—no worries.”
How could she explain that her worry had just shifted from wondering how long he’d stick around to realizing she was in real danger of falling for him again?
She rubbed a wet spot on the door’s vinyl and tried to wrap her head around the fact that he was staying for good this time. But was it for her or for Lucas? Pain ripped through her heart. The distinction was an important one.
He grasped her chi
n between his thumb and forefinger and forced her to look at him. When she did, his eyes were full of understanding. She was emotionally naked under his gaze.
“The only thing—” he leaned farther through the window, refusing to let her look away “—and I mean only thing I’m worried about, is what would happen to you if we stay in Manitou.”
Her heart took a step closer to belief but skidded to a halt before it arrived. She just wasn’t ready, so she nodded instead.
“Now, I’ll run in and rustle up my stuff. Sit tight.”
She rolled her window back up and told herself to relax. Rain pelted the roof. Soon they’d be on the road with her problems behind them and a blank future ahead. She tapped her fingers on the door.
Riggen had done nothing but serve and protect her since he’d stood over her taped-up body on Pikes Peak. Why couldn’t she take that last step into trust?
Another flash of lightning streaked across the sky, glinting off the second-story window of the cabin. Even his annoying habit of making decisions for her had only stemmed from a desire to protect.
But could she ever get over the worst of those decisions? The one that had devastated her? Was it possible to move out of the past and live in the present?
Her gaze darted around the Bronco’s interior. There had to be something to take her mind off the problem of Riggen. She stopped when her eyes landed on his duffel sitting on the back seat.
If Riggen’s boss had been upset at the thought of him leaving, how would Trevor react? Would he really be okay with Riggen moving away? He’d offered to buy Riggen out, but what would happen to Price Excursions without Riggen’s help?
She unclicked her seat belt and wriggled into the back to heave Riggen’s duffel over the armrest. She couldn’t silence the roar of conflicting emotions crashing through her, but if doing something to help Trevor’s business could distract her from the terrifying thought of a future with Riggen, then the work was worth it.
Opening the files, she crossed her legs underneath her and searched through the vendor names. She knew them all. Most of them had contracted her to write travel and product reviews. She knew what they liked and how to get their attention. Making small, quick marks in the margins of Trevor’s files, she notated the ideas swirling through her mind.
Treacherous Mountain Investigation Page 16