by Beverly Long
She’d love to let someone else take the wheel. She was tired and it was an effort to stay alert. “I’m okay,” she said.
“Just know that the offer stands,” he said, turning his face to look out the window. There wasn’t anything to see. Just desert and rock.
Four hours later, she was absolutely exhausted by the time they pulled in to the hotel parking lot. It was a smaller property than the one they’d stayed at the prior night. “Is that a lake?” she asked, pointing behind the hotel.
“Yeah. Man-made, according to the website.”
Still, it was lovely. It was too late to explore tonight but maybe tomorrow. All she wanted to do was sleep now. But she knew that he was probably hungry. If only the idea of going to a restaurant wasn’t enough to take her appetite away.
She popped the trunk and opened her car door. It was a warm evening in Albuquerque, probably at least eighty-five degrees. It felt very warm after the air-conditioned vehicle.
Once they got checked in, they took their key cards to the third floor and as before, Seth checked her room before opening his own door. “Hungry?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said. She felt as if she could fall over but she couldn’t expect him not to eat.
“I’ve got an idea,” he said. “I saw a pizza place just two blocks down. I’ll bet they deliver here. How about I call something in and we can eat in one of our rooms.”
That sounded heavenly. “Anything but anchovies,” she said.
“Then I think a sausage, mushroom and black olive thin-crust pizza works,” he said.
If she’d been ordering for herself, that was exactly what she’d have chosen. “I’ll take a salad, too. Balsamic vinegar dressing on the side.”
“Rabbit food,” he said, smiling.
Given that she felt as if she might have hopped the whole way from Sedona, it was fitting. “Here. Take my credit card.”
When he hesitated, she wiggled her hand. “Come on. Our food is a business expense.”
He took it without another word. “I’ll get it from the lobby once they deliver it and bring it upstairs.”
“Fine. I’m going to shower in the meantime.”
“Feel free to put your jammies on,” he said.
She gave him a sideways look.
“Just want you to be comfortable,” he said, picking up his cell phone. “It’s not like I haven’t already seen them.” He walked through the connecting door, into his room, shutting the door behind him.
She flopped down on the bed. She closed her eyes and didn’t open them again until there was a sharp knock on the connecting door. Still on her back, she pushed herself up onto her forearms. “Come in,” she said.
He opened the door, holding a very large pizza box as well as a white sack. He put everything on the desk. From the sack, he pulled paper plates, plastic silverware and her salad.
The last thing from the sack was two bottles of water.
“Dinner is served,” he said. “But you never changed.”
“Don’t worry about me,” she said. She swung her legs over the bed. “Smells delicious,” she said. When she got closer to the desk and saw the size of the pizza box, she looked at him. “Are we feeding the people next door, too? Because if we are, they have to turn down their television first.”
“Nope. All for us. I like pizza,” he said. “And if the television isn’t down by the time you want to sleep, I’ll start pounding on the walls.”
She opened her salad and took one piece of pizza. “It probably won’t matter. I think I could sleep through anything tonight.”
“What are they watching, anyway?” he asked.
“I think it’s a Jeopardy! marathon.”
“Alex, I’ll take ‘Irritating Habits of Hotel Guests’ for a hundred, please,” he said.
She took a bite of her pizza and smiled in appreciation. “Alex, I’ll take ‘Best Pizza in the World’ for two hundred.”
He lifted the lid of the box and looked at the receipt. “Who is Maidlin’s in Albuquerque, New Mexico?”
“Ding, ding,” she said. “Seth Pike is in the lead. What’s your final wager?”
Seth picked up his second piece, already having devoured the first one. “All of it,” he said, waving a hand carelessly. “Easy come, easy go.”
She chewed. Leaned her head back. Swallowed.
“Be careful,” he said. “If you choke to death, I’m going to have a whole lot of forms to complete.”
“I would hate to be a burden.”
“Want another piece?” he asked.
She shook her head. “All yours. But let me just get this warning out there. I don’t think the cardboard is edible. Or that little plastic thing that kept the lid from squishing all the cheese.”
“Sticks and stones. Real men enjoy their pizza.” He kept eating and finally finished off the last piece. Stood up. Patted his stomach, which was still flat and tight. It really wasn’t fair. If she ate like that, she’d have to squeeze sideways through the doorway.
He gathered up the garbage. “Want to keep the rest of your salad?”
“Nope.” She was going to bed and she didn’t intend to have it for breakfast.
He cleared off the desk. “Want me to check the closets,” he said, his tone teasing. “Under the bed, maybe?”
She shook her head. “I’m not worried about right now. At three in the morning, it will be a different story.”
He studied her. “First of all, there’s no way for anybody to know that we’re at this hotel. And just in case, when I was waiting downstairs for the pizza to arrive, I had a little talk with the night manager. Got her assurances that nobody was getting your room number.”
“I’m going to stuff a towel under the door,” she admitted.
“Can’t hurt,” he said. “Want a wake-up knock in the morning?”
She shook her head. “I’ll set the alarm on my phone.”
“Are we running again?”
“I’d like to,” she admitted. “Maybe at six.”
“No problem. Got some pizza to work off. Good night, Megan.”
He left through the connecting door, taking all the garbage with him.
She undressed for bed and put on the nightgown that she’d worn the previous night. Too tired to shower, she washed her face and brushed her teeth and then stuffed the used towel as tightly as it would go under the door. It made her feel marginally better.
But her gut told her that it wouldn’t be another snake. The next attack would be different, something she wasn’t expecting.
* * *
Seth undressed for bed, listening all the while for any unusual noises from Megan’s room. He lay down on the cool sheets, grateful to stretch. All the hours in the car were getting to him. And he knew that if he was tired as a passenger, Megan had to really be feeling it as the driver.
It was the reason he’d suggested pizza. Well, that and he truly did love a good pizza. And tonight’s had been very decent. But not as good as he could make.
And he suddenly had a very clear vision of him in his kitchen, rolling out a pizza crust, a glass of red wine close by. And when he looked over his shoulder, Megan was sitting at his table.
Wearing her pretty white nightgown.
Which she might be wearing right now.
And the sheets that had felt cool now seemed way too warm, as if his body was putting off heat.
Alex, I’ll take “Best Ways to Fall Asleep” for three hundred.
Oh, that was a mistake. He knew the answer.
Sex.
It wasn’t going to happen. He was everything that she didn’t want.
Which totally pissed him off.
He didn’t want to be summarily dismissed by the one woman who quite frankly interested him more than any other woman he’d ever met.
He thought about calling one of his partners. Any one of the three could probably offer up some good advice. After all, they’d all fallen hard and fast when the right woman had come along. But he didn’t want to talk about it. Not yet.
In a way, it reminded him of when he’d made the decision to join the air force after college. He hadn’t told a soul until he’d signed on the dotted line and there was no going back. Then he’d gone to see his mom. She’d been wonderful about it, had said she’d thought it was only a matter of time. That his dad would be so proud.
What would she say now if he confessed? Mom, I think I’ve fallen hook, line and sinker for a woman who likely thinks I’m the worst choice in the world.
What he didn’t think she would say is to give up. That hadn’t ever been her message. No, it would probably be something along the lines of Well, you’ll just have to work harder to show her that she’s wrong.
But first things first. He’d been hired to keep her safe.
But to protect her, he needed to be sharp. He needed sleep.
He deliberately slowed his breaths. Relaxed his muscles. Closed his eyes.
And he didn’t wake up again until six the next morning. It was still dark outside.
Ten minutes later, he heard her alarm. Then her tentative knock on his side of the door. “Yeah,” he said.
She opened the door. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” he said.
“I wasn’t sure if you were awake.”
“I was about to make coffee,” he said.
“I’m going for a run,” she said. “Outside, I think. There’s a path that goes around the lake.”
“Okay. Give me five,” he said.
He was waiting in the hallway when she opened her door. She’d pulled her long hair up into a high ponytail and it swung behind her. Her leggings were black, as was her T-shirt. He did not want to speculate on her underwear.
Even this early, she was really fabulous. And she’d told her sister that he was “an easy traveling companion.” The only thing that might be worse was “an easy traveling companion who drooled.” He might as well be a Saint Bernard.
They were out the back door of the hotel and on the path within minutes. The sun was coming up over the horizon and the morning sky was a combination of reds and oranges on a palette of deep blue. “That’s Sandia Peak,” he said, pointing off to the east.
“Gorgeous,” she said. “I’m glad I got up to see this.”
“I took the tram to the top and hiked a couple years ago. It was fun.”
“Maybe I’ll come back to New Mexico sometime,” she said.
I’ll bring you. He’d almost said it out loud. But the idea of watching a whole lot more sunrises and sunsets together was appealing.
They’d been running for about ten minutes when he heard a cell phone ring. It took him a second to realize the noise was coming from her. “You’re ringing,” he said.
“Oh.” She slowed down fast and reached behind her back. She pulled up her shirt and he saw a pocket closed with Velcro in the waistband of her leggings. She pulled her cell phone from it.
“Didn’t know you had that,” he admitted.
“I would never run without a cell phone,” she said, her tone absent. She was looking at the display number. He knew immediately when it registered because she yanked the phone up to her ear. “Who is this?” she demanded.
“Put it on speaker,” he mouthed.
She did. He caught part of the sentence. “...matter who this is. Just listen. I’ve got information about the crash that killed your parents. Meet me at the Laundromat behind Marta’s Deli today at 10:00 a.m. This will be your only chance.”
Chapter 12
Seth reached for the phone but the caller had already hung up. He redialed the number. It rang and rang. “Pick up, you bastard,” he said, his teeth gritted.
It continued to ring until it switched over to voice mail. “You’ve reached the voice mail of Marta’s Deli. Our hours are 7:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m., Monday through Saturday.”
The phone disconnected. He checked the time on his watch, confirming that the time on Megan’s phone matched. “Los Angeles is an hour behind us. That means it’s just five thirty there. Marta’s Deli doesn’t open for another ninety minutes.”
“I suspect there are cooks there, prepping for the day?”
He shrugged. “You would think so.”
He tried the number again. Got the same results. “We could call the police,” he said.
“I should have let it go to voice mail. At least then I’d have a recording of it.”
“I heard it,” he said.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, sounding weary. “Even if I call and we both tell them what the caller said, I don’t think it’s a crime to offer to tell somebody something. I just can’t see the Los Angeles police giving a damn.” She stopped.
She was right. Even if they found somebody who would listen to the whole story, it was unlikely that they would put any effort into this. “Do you think it’s legitimate?”
“I have no idea. The crash was fifteen years ago. Why now?”
He didn’t know. “Do you want to be at the Laundromat at 10:00 a.m.?”
She turned and started walking back to the hotel. “It doesn’t matter what I want. It’s impossible. It’s a twelve-hour drive from Albuquerque to Los Angeles.”
“We could rent a plane. There would be some delay at the airport, I suspect, but I’d call ahead, try to get through as much of that as I could while we’re driving to the Albuquerque airport. If we push it, we might be able to make it,” he said.
She shook her head. “I’m not flying. And it’s a moot point, anyway. It’s already almost six thirty here. We have the meet and greet at nine and the ribbon-cutting ceremony after that.”
Again, he was struck by the possibility that whoever was making those calls had access to the schedule. The first time, they’d called and left a message when she wouldn’t have been able to answer her phone. Now they were asking her to be somewhere that she couldn’t possibly be. “You could cancel today. Say that you’re ill.”
She shook her head. “That would be so irresponsible of me. If you’re so interested,” she said, waving a hand as if she couldn’t care less, “you go.”
“I stick with you. But you’re onto something. How about I ask one of my partners to go for us? From Las Vegas, they can easily fly to Los Angeles and be in place by ten.”
“If it was a legitimate call, which I’m not even sure it was, then the person will be looking for me. None of your partners can pull that off.”
“But if they see somebody there, they might be able to identify who’s making the calls. They could talk to people at Marta’s Deli. Try to figure out who made a call this morning before the place even opened up.”
She stopped walking. He had her interest now. They were less than a hundred feet from the back door of the hotel. Another set of early-morning joggers were approaching and she didn’t say anything until they passed.
“I’d be okay with that,” she said. “I would pay them for their time, of course.”
He nodded. “We can figure that out later.” Now that they had a plan, he felt better. They had a chance to catch this person. And then they would figure out if he was legitimate and if so, whether his goal was to be helpful or not.
“Done with your exercise for today?” he asked, opening the hotel door for her.
She nodded. “Yeah. I’m just going to shower and get some emails answered before we go to the meet and greet.”
“You want some breakfast?”
She shook her head. “No. Not really. I’ll have coffee in my room.”
He was going to argue with her but it would be like kicking a puppy. “Okay. I’ll meet you outside your room at eight thirty. That should give us eno
ugh time to drive to the meet and greet. I mapped it yesterday before I made the hotel reservation. It’s less than fifteen minutes away.”
“Fine,” she said.
They were back to fine. It made him want to slam his fist into a wall.
Once they were back to their rooms, he quickly checked hers before going to his own. He sat on the bed. Vegas was on the same time as Los Angeles, which meant it was pretty early there still. He sent a quick text and when he got the response he had hoped for, he dialed Royce, who was on call for the week.
“Morgan,” he answered.
“Were you sleeping?” Seth asked.
“No. Lucky for you, Grace likes breakfast around five.”
Good. That meant that Royce had already had some coffee and would be operating at full speed. He only wanted to explain this once. “I need a little help.”
“Okay. What?”
“It’s a long story so I’m going to give you the abbreviated version. Megan North’s parents died in a plane crash about fifteen years ago. She has gotten two calls in the last few days, insinuating that it wasn’t an accident. The male caller this morning indicated that if she wanted the truth, she needed to be at a Laundromat that sits behind Marta’s Deli in Los Angeles at ten this morning. We’re in Albuquerque, New Mexico, right now and we could make it there in time if we flew but we would miss some key events. She won’t cancel and anyway, it’s a moot point because she won’t fly.”
“Ever?” Royce asked. It wasn’t the important part of the conversation but he would know that it was important to Seth.
“I guess,” Seth said, not wanting to state it as fact.
“And you want one of us to be in Los Angeles at the Laundromat at ten.”
“Yeah.”
“I can do it,” Royce said.
“It won’t likely be much of a meeting but at least if you can get a look at the guy, maybe get a license plate number, something that we can go on. A photo would be super. Also, the call originated from Marta’s Deli this morning at five thirty California time. They don’t open until seven. When I tried to call the number, it went right to voice mail and gave me a standard after-hours message. I want to know who made that call.”
