Harlequin Romantic Suspense May 2018 Box Set

by Regan Black

  How long would he wait before coming to the conclusion that she wasn’t coming back? To knowing that it hadn’t been an honest mistake but that she’d been a mere squatter who’d had the bad luck to get caught?

  How many lies was she going to have to tell? How many people was she going to have to deceive?

  What would she stoop to?

  She glanced in her rearview mirror. Hannah caught her eye and smiled.

  There was her answer. She would bend, stoop, even crawl. Go as low as she needed to. For Hannah.

  She drove for an hour before she got to the outskirts of the town. It took another ten minutes to find a hotel. It was two stories with the rooms all having exterior doors.

  She parked in front of the office and shut off the car. She opened her purse and pulled cash out. Then tossed her purse onto the floor and covered it up with a Colorado map. “We have to go inside here,” she said to Hannah.

  “Can I take Ja-Ja?”

  “No, sorry.” While it should not, a little boy with a doll might garner attention they didn’t need. “Pretend that she’s sleeping.”

  “Okay.” Hannah kissed Ja-Ja’s forehead and laid her down on the seat.

  It made Laura’s eyes fill with tears. Hannah was such a sweet child. She unbuckled her seat belt, got out, did the same for Hannah. Tugged at the little girl’s baseball cap to make sure it would stay on.

  A bell jingled when she opened the door. A woman was behind the counter, reading a newspaper. Her face was lined and she was very thin. She stood and set aside the paper. “Morning.”

  “Good morning,” Laura said. There was an old couch with two chairs. She gave Hannah’s shoulder a gentle push toward the furniture. “You can sit over there while I do this. Here’s a pen and paper.” Hannah loved to draw and, most of the time, tuned everything else out while she was doing so.

  Laura waited until she got up on the couch before turning back to the woman. “I’d like to rent a room.”

  “How many nights.”

  “Three,” she said. She had to have a plan by then.

  “How many people?”

  “Just the two of us,” Laura said, waving in Hannah’s direction.

  The woman nodded and started tapping keys on what appeared to be an ancient computer. “License and credit card?”

  Laura smiled. “I’ve had the worst luck,” she said. “My purse was stolen. I’d be happy to pay in cash in advance.”

  The woman studied her. “We need the credit card in case there are damages to the room.”

  “How about I give you an extra hundred to cover that? When I leave, you can give it back once you’ve checked the room.”

  The woman sighed, glanced over at Hannah. Looked back at Laura. “That’ll do,” she said. She gave Laura a plastic card. “Upstairs. Room 204.”

  “Thank you,” Laura said. She walked over to Hannah. “Time to go. You can finish these upstairs.” She gathered the paper and pen.

  Was almost out the door when the woman said, “O’Grady’s on the corner serves up a nice breakfast and lunch for a reasonable price. And Pastor Rome, he’s got the church a block down on the right, has been known to be helpful to folks, too. Plus there’s some swings and a slide on the playground next door to the church.”

  Laura swallowed hard. “Again, thank you.” She grabbed Hannah’s hand and pulled her out the door.

  “I want to see the playground.”

  “Maybe later. Let’s get Ja-Ja and your clothes and see our room.”

  “I liked the room we had. Why did we have to leave?”

  “We just had to,” Laura said. “Come on.”

  “I liked Lucky,” Hannah said, obviously not willing to let it go.

  “Yeah. Nice dog. But you’ll meet other nice dogs.”

  “I will?”

  “Of course.” Wasn’t that what people said when one thing ended and you were waiting for the next thing to begin? It certainly had been when she and Will had split up. You’ll meet another guy. That’s what her friends had said. Her hairdresser. Her landlord who got used to seeing Will around.

  Had that happened last night? Had she met a nice guy last night? Had it been an error to run from him this morning? Could she have told him the truth?

  No. Because the risk of others judging her actions too harshly was too big. So it didn’t matter how nice he might be. She was on her own. For the foreseeable future.

  She got their things out of the car, stuffing her purse into her already-full backpack at the last minute so the woman in the office wouldn’t see it if she happened to be watching them. They got to the concrete exterior stairs and Hannah reached up and put her hand in Laura’s. The little girl’s skin was soft and warm.

  No, not alone. She had Hannah. Blood of her blood.

  It was more than enough.

  She inserted the key card into the door and when the light flicked green, she turned the handle. And her heart sank. It wasn’t horrible, but compared to the beautiful sunny cabin that they’d left behind, the dark room, with its dark green and purple carpet and its brown bedspread and matching curtains, was like a tomb.

  Hannah spied the television. “Can I watch?” she asked.

  Laura nodded, grateful for the respite. “Sure. For a little while.” She turned it on, found an appropriate show and got Hannah settled on the bed, with her arm around her doll. She made sure the bolt lock on the door was engaged and the chain hooked.

  Then she went into the bathroom, shut the door, turned on the faucet in the sink and started to cry.

  CHAPTER 3

  One thing about mountain roads, they made it relatively easy to follow somebody without having to get too close. He was able to stay a nice comfortable mile behind the Mustang without losing it as she covered the steep inclines and declines that the Rockies were known for.

  Felt justified when he saw her breeze past the grocery store that was on the edge of town. He’d been right. Shopping wasn’t her priority. But then he quickly got frustrated as he lost her for just a few minutes once she got into the guts of Moreville, a town of maybe fifteen thousand. But he persisted, traveling the five-block business section, the side streets leading off the main street and then finally the perimeter of the town. That’s where he found her. At the Wagon Wheel Delight.

  He saw some wagon wheels propped up next to the side of the office, but he didn’t see anything delightful. Other than her cute little Mustang. Which was parked but empty. There was no sign of her or the child. He suspected they were already in a room. He could go knocking on doors. He looked at Lucky. “I think we should just wait.”

  The dog blinked but offered up no argument. Put his head in Rico’s lap so that Rico could scratch behind his ears.

  He had calls to make anyway. He pressed a button on his phone.

  “Rico,” his mom said. “How is the poor ankle?”

  Those had been the first words out of his mother’s mouth every time he talked to her since his injury. “It’s good. Almost healed,” he said. “How’s Dad?” His father had been suffering with chest pains, which he claimed were indigestion but Rico was worried. He wanted to send him to one of the premier heart doctors in the United States, but his dad wasn’t having it. So instead, Rico gave Nathan, his sister’s seventeen-year-old son, a weekly allowance to make sure that he checked in on his grandfather daily. Nathan had also been responsible for all the lawn mowing this past summer and would do all the snow shoveling this winter. He gave some cash also to Aleja, his sister’s thirteen-year-old daughter, to make sure that his mother wasn’t lonely.

  “He’s ornery,” his mom said. “And worried about the early snow that’s coming. But Nathan stopped by and they’re playing checkers. Aleja is coming later and we’re baking a cake.”

  Excellent. His nephew and niece were good kids who would probably do the right th
ing for their grandparents anyway, but he didn’t like leaving things to chance. And his dad was right to be worried about the snow. Rico had checked the weather before leaving Vegas. Only a fool drove into the mountains in October without doing that. Snow was definitely coming to Colorado and he’d packed accordingly. As long as he was here in Moreville, he would stock up with extra food just in case.

  “What are you up to?” his mother asked.

  “Not much. Giving the ankle a rest,” he said. He felt badly about lying to his mother. He was less than an hour away from their small house where they’d lived since retiring three years earlier. But if they knew that he was at the cabin, they would be hurt if he didn’t visit. And right now, he wasn’t up to a fight with his sister, who lived next door to his parents. She was angry with him because he wouldn’t help her lazy husband.

  “You help everyone,” she’d yelled the last time. “But you won’t help him.”

  He helped people who couldn’t help themselves. People who were sick, like Georgina Fodder who was fighting a hell of a battle with cancer.

  Charro’s husband, Peter, was just the opposite. He was healthy, had some skills, could work and simply chose not to. Charro had been supporting her family for years, and it was time for her to dump the freeloader.

  Demonstrating tough love, however, was tough. And he did not want Charro’s children to suffer, which was why the extra money to Nathan and Aleja worked out nicely for everyone.

  “Stay inside when the weather gets bad,” he said.

  “We will. I’ve already been to the store. We’ll have no reason to go anywhere.”

  He ended the call and stared at the hotel, trying to imagine what Laura and the child were doing in their room. He’d seen the inside of hotels like this and, quite frankly, they generally weren’t that nice. His cabin was better.

  He picked up his phone again and dialed. Thought it was going to flip over to voice mail but was answered on the fourth ring.

  “Rico Metez. I heard you mixed it up with a boat and the boat won.” Bobby Bayleaf was a twenty-year veteran of the Las Vegas Police Department who didn’t take crap from anyone. He’d been his partner Seth Pike’s best friend since they’d been kids. Seth had introduced Bobby and Rico a couple years ago. Now all three of them played volleyball in the same league.

  “But I got a couple good punches in,” Rico said.

  “That’s my boy. All better now?”

  “Getting there. I’m working on something and could use a little assistance off the record.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Bobby generally played by the rules. He wouldn’t agree to anything until he knew what the request was.

  “Just need a plate run. State of Tennessee.” Rico had taken the time to enter the plate in his phone but didn’t need that now. He was close enough to read it. He rattled it off to Bobby.

  There was a pause. Then Bobby spoke. “Registered to a Clovis Trane. Lives in Nashville, Tennessee. Same address for years.”

  Clovis Trane. “Is there a Laura Trane?” he asked, hating the sound of that.

  “Not seeing any Laura. Looks like there was a Melissa Trane on the registration at some point but dropped off a few years ago.”

  Melissa Trane. Where had he heard that name recently? Then it came to him. The home health worker taking care of Georgina Fodder. Suddenly things made more sense. Laura would not have needed to break in if she’d gotten the code from Melissa, who’d somehow gotten it from Georgina. But Melissa was no longer on the registration. “Maybe a divorce?” he asked.

  “Death or divorce. That’s usually the reason somebody drops off.”

  Melissa Trane wasn’t dead but he didn’t say anything. He now had more information but he really didn’t know much more. “Thanks, Bobby. Do me a favor and win some money from Seth the next time you play cards. His ego is getting too big for our doors at Wingman Security.”

  “Don’t I know it. I’ll do my best.”

  Rico hung up and stared at the white Mustang. He was still staring at it when a door opened on the second floor and out stepped Laura. She’d changed into a green T-shirt that likely did good things for her eyes. Her hair was now in a ponytail and she was wearing a ball cap, with the tail hanging out the back.

  She seemed to glance around before letting the child come out behind her. He expected them to head for the car but instead, they walked past the car, past the office of the hotel, and turned right at the end of the driveway. They were on the sidewalk and he quickly lost sight of them.

  He let them get a fair distance ahead of him before he started his vehicle. When he pulled out of the driveway of the hotel, he quickly slid into an open spot on the street when he could see them. They were about a block ahead.

  Were they going to church? On a weekday?

  Nope. They walked past the church, to the park next to it. He waited a minute before pulling out of the space. He drove slowly down the street, past the park. Made a turn. Parked where he could see them, but they remained oblivious to him.

  She was pushing the kid in the swing.

  And they were both laughing. And the image pulled at him. Laura, who’d been attractive in a kind of look-but-don’t-touch way, seemed way more approachable, way more likeable, way more loving.

  He couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away.

  From the swings, they went to the slide and the kid climbed the steps and came down, squealing like it was the most fun ever. And Laura clapped her hands, the first time and the fourteen other times, as if it was a spectacular thing the child was doing.

  Then it was to navigate a set of horizontal bars, but the child was way too short and Laura had to hold him or her—he still wasn’t quite sure—up while the child got across. Then the kid must have convinced Laura to try because Laura jumped and reached and her shirt came with her, showing a wide expanse of fair skin.

  From a distance, she was fit and athletic and he wished he were closer to see if there were a smattering of freckles on her belly, like there were across her pretty little nose.

  All too soon, Laura reached for the child’s hand and they started walking. He thought they might be headed back to the motel but instead, they walked into O’Grady’s, which appeared to be a small restaurant across from the park.

  He took that opportunity to let Lucky out to do his thing and expend some energy. Then it was back in the SUV.

  Thirty minutes later, Laura and the kid walked out of the restaurant. He started his car and drove back to the hotel the way he’d come, intending to be in his spot, waiting for them.

  But when he arrived, he saw a police car parked behind Laura’s Mustang. There was an officer out of his car, looking into the windows of the vehicle.

  What the hell?

  It took Laura and the kid twenty-four seconds to round the edge of the driveway. They were holding hands. And then it was like he was watching something in slow motion, the movements were so exaggerated.

  The shocked look on Laura’s face. The quick jerk of the arm. The turn. Them going back the direction that they’d come.

  He wanted to race after them but he knew he could catch them easily enough—he had wheels and they were on foot. Right now, he wanted some information.

  He got out with his crutches—always better to look a little nonthreatening when approaching a cop. He made his way to the car. “Afternoon, officer,” he said.

  “Afternoon. This your car?”

  “No,” Rico said. “It’s a beauty, though.”

  “I know. That’s why I stopped. My wife wants one. We’re celebrating our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary next month and I’m thinking of surprising her.”

  “Sweet,” he said. He put his hand on the white paint. “I’d go for this in red.”

  The cop smiled. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

  “Have a go
od day,” Rico said, and proceeded to walk toward the hotel office. He opened the door and a thin woman behind the counter stood. “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’m looking for a restaurant called O’Grady’s,” he said.

  She used her thumb to point north. “A block up.”

  “Thanks,” he said. He turned. The cop and his car were gone.

  He went back to his SUV, started it and drove down the street. Laura and the child were moving fast, considerably faster than they’d walked before. He saw a parking spot thirty feet ahead of them and pulled in. Got out. Was leaning up against his vehicle when they got close enough that Laura could see him.

  Recognition. Then panic. He watched it play out across her face. It dawned on him that she probably thought that he had something to do with the cop being there. Like maybe he’d called the police after finding out that she’d been at the cabin without actually renting it.

  Before he could explain, she bent down, scooped up the child and started running. And she was smart about it. She got off the sidewalk and started running between houses, making it difficult for him to follow her in his SUV.

  In a foot race, even carrying a child, she had the advantage. His ankle would not stand up to that much activity.

  He got behind the wheel and took off, making several quick turns. Not knowing the town well made it hard to predict where she might emerge. He went the wrong way on a one-way, and just when he thought he might have lost her, he saw her pop out from an alley in his rearview mirror.

  He jammed his car in Reverse, backed up in someone’s driveway and floored it. He caught up with her just as she was about to cross the street. He pulled in front of her, leaned across the seat and opened the door.

  “Get in. Please,” he added. “That cop wasn’t after you. He was just admiring your car.”

  He saw what might have been hope in her pretty eyes. But mistrust quickly crowded it out. “Are you following me?” she asked.