Cowboy Secrets

by Alice Sharpe

  IT WAS DARK by the time they got to the Tip Top. The streets were bumper-to-bumper, the sidewalks more or less empty. “There’s nowhere to park,” Pike said.

  “Let me out and I’ll ask around about Raoul. You can circle the block. I’ll call your cell in a few minutes so you can pick me up.” He slowed down the car. She noticed his expression as he scanned the sidewalk. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine,” she added.

  “This is a pretty rough part of town,” he said.

  “Maybe, but I’m no cupcake.” She impulsively squeezed his hand before opening the door and getting out of the car. She hurried to the sidewalk to avoid getting hit and prepared herself to enter the dingy bar in front of her.

  Before she could take more than a few steps, a group of five men exited the dive and stopped short when they saw her. She avoided eye contact. She could take one on one, but five against one weren’t odds she liked.

  The men circled her and there was nothing she could do but look into their eyes. That was a sobering experience as she sensed a group mentality concerning single women on “their” turf. A little frisson of fear rippled down her spine that annoyed the heck out of her. She was used to handling herself, but in all truth, she had to admit that the situations in which she usually found herself were a little less raw than this.

  She suddenly missed Pike’s reassuring presence, but shook off that feeling. Since when did Sierra Hyde depend on a man?

  “Anyone here know Raoul Ruiz?” she asked with a resolute effort to exude confidence.

  One of the men had a knife scar running across his throat and a superior way of looking down his nose as though detached from what was going on around him. The power and anger radiating from his eyes could probably melt concrete.

  He turned in a bored, I’ve-had-enough-of-this-broad way and walked back inside the bar. The others looked at each other, avoiding eye contact with Sierra, and one by one they followed on Knife Scar’s heels, leaving just one guy behind.

  Unfortunately, the one who remained was huge. Not tall, really, just a shining example of steroid abuse. He wore a red muscle shirt over bulging abs and pecs and a blue bandanna around his head that almost hid the fact that he had no eyebrows.

  “Was it something I said?” she asked Muscle Guy.

  “They think you’re a cop,” he replied.

  “Do you?”

  “Maybe. Difference is, I don’t care.”

  “Do you know Raoul Ruiz?”

  “I might.”

  “Have you seen him recently?”

  “Maybe.”

  “But you’re not going to say.”

  “Brother don’t rat on brother to the cops.”

  “I’m not a cop. I’m a private detective.”

  “Not from around here.”

  “No,” she said. “I’m looking for a guy named Danny Cooke. I thought maybe Raoul would know where he is.”

  The man stared at her, wheels obviously turning in his head. “What’s in it for me?”

  “All I got on me. Fifty bucks,” she said.

  “Beat it, broad,” he said loudly and then added in a hushed tone, “Meet me down the alley.”

  Was Sierra really desperate enough for a lead to follow this behemoth into a dark alley? Turns out the answer was yes.

  Chapter Six

  Sierra saw her would-be informant’s bulging shape lurking behind an industrial Dumpster as she turned down the alley after giving him a head start. She was keenly aware this could go awry and she thought of all the hours spent at the gym. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to find out if they paid off.

  She stopped a few feet shy of him. “All right, spill it. What can you tell me about Raoul?”

  “Dude’s a doper.”

  “And Danny Cooke?”

  “Mr. Detroit? Runs a little operation. Weed, crystal, blow, stuff like that.”

  “When did you see Ruiz last?”

  “Earlier this week, driving a blue girlie car.”

  “Did you see Danny?”

  “No.”

  “Did you speak to Ruiz?”

  “Some.”

  Sierra looked toward the entry of the alley. Her gut was telling her time was running out. “Did he talk about a murder?”

  “Murder? No!”

  “Did he mention killing someone?”

  “What are you talking about? All he said was him and Shorts were leaving town.”

  “Who is Shorts?”

  “A guy.”

  “Where were they going?”

  “Didn’t say.”

  “What’s Shorts’s real name?”

  “Don’t know. He just wears shorts all the time.” He twitched a little and licked his lips. “Give me the fifty bucks now.”

  As a lead, this one didn’t show much promise. She could tell Detective Hatch about it, though, and maybe he could locate this Shorts person. It all seemed like a long shot.

  Suddenly a voice came from behind them. Sierra hadn’t heard anyone approaching, but she whirled around to find Knife Scar pointing a gun at her. His gaze flicked from her to Muscle Guy. “How long you been squealing to the cops?”

  Sierra doubted that pointing out the difference between a police offer and a private detective would afford her any latitude in her current situation. She stood trapped between two men and knew her chances of outrunning either of them weren’t good even without the added factor of the gun.

  “Listen, dude, I didn’t tell her nothing,” the walking muscle insisted.

  Knife Scar ignored him. “I’m trying to think of the best way to kill you both. There are so many options.” He pointed the gun at his friend’s head, then lowered it to aim at Sierra’s gut. “I kind of like the thought of starting with you.”

  With her mind racing for a way out of this, she came up blank. If he moved closer she might have a chance to disarm him. Sure. Probably not, but it was all she could think of. Before she could figure out how to close the distance between them, he was suddenly flying through the air. With a thud, he landed on his back five feet away.

  Pike moved quickly to stand over him, jaw tight, fists rolled. He kicked the guy in the side and hauled him to his feet, twisted his arm behind his back and slammed him against the building on the other side of the alley. He took the gun from his hand and pressed it against the guy’s thick neck.

  Sierra swallowed the last few minutes of terror as Pike kept the guy pinned against the building. The sound of heavy breathing was about all she could hear, but she knew that sooner or later, this guy’s buddies would come looking for him and they would be sorely outnumbered. She looked around to see that her informant had fled.

  Pike looked into her eyes. “You through with him?”

  She thought of trying to question him and decided she’d pushed her luck as far as she wanted to. She nodded and then thought twice and stopped him. She reached into her pocket and produced several plastic cable ties. “Tools of the trade,” she said. While Pike held him at gunpoint she tied his hands together. They walked the thug over to the Dumpster, threw back the lid and forced the man to climb into the garbage, where he stumbled to keep upright. Pike pushed him down and slammed the lid. They fled down the alley to the echo of his bellowing.

  Once out on a street, they sprinted a couple of blocks to the rental. Pike locked the confiscated weapon in the trunk and they took off without looking back.

  * * *

  BY THE TIME they got to their hotel the adrenaline had started to wear off. “I’m ordering room service,” she announced outside her door. “You’re welcome to join me.”

  “That’s the best offer I’ve had today.”

  “Well, you did waltz into that alley in the nick of time. The least I can do is feed you.” She leaned
back against her door and ran a finger along his chin. He had a truly delightful face, serious, sexy, playful, his expressions charming and fascinating. “Anything in particular you want?”

  “You,” he said.

  She smiled. “Give me forty-five minutes.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  “I’ll let you know in forty-five minutes.”

  * * *

  SIERRA SAT DOWN at the table and took out her cell phone, annoyed to see her hand shake. The scene in the alley might have ended differently if Pike hadn’t come looking for her. It might have also played out differently if she’d been armed, but she hadn’t left New York with the intention of having to shoot anyone.

  Tess answered with palatable anticipation. “Sierra? Did you find him?”

  “No,” Sierra said gently.

  “Not even his—his body?”

  “Not even his body.” She took a deep breath. “Tess, I need you to be very honest with me, okay?”

  There was a pause before Tess replied. “I have been.”

  “Don’t get offended. Just answer a couple of questions. Were you and Danny arguing the night he died?”

  “Yeah. He could be a jerk. It was no big deal.”

  “He wouldn’t want to scare you, would he?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that your car is missing. Could he have faked the shooting—”

  “No! What a thing to say. He would never do that to me! Whoever killed Danny has my car.”

  “Okay. Is it possible you went to that house another time and—”

  “No!”

  “Let me finish. Is it possible you remember that house for another reason?”

  “No!”

  “Had you been drinking or doing drugs?”

  There was silence for a heartbeat, then a sigh. “I had a shot of brandy, maybe two. I was getting a cold and Danny said it would help.”

  Sierra reflected for a second. The girl weighed less than a hundred pounds, but a couple of shots, if that’s all it really was, wasn’t enough to cause her to hallucinate a murder. “Okay, is it possible Danny was shot but not killed?”

  This time the answer was even slower to come. “No,” she said, but for the first time, there was a note of uncertainty in her voice. “I thought he was dead. He was so still.”

  “But you had no time to check him, right?”

  “I had to go,” Tess said, her voice shaking. “The other man had a gun. I was—I was...scared.”

  “Okay, okay. Calm down. I’m not done looking. We’ll be home tomorrow night, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “It might be late so you don’t have to wait up.”

  “Okay. But I will.”

  “I know. Are you sleeping?”

  “Some.”

  “Good.” They hung up a minute or two later and Sierra sat there to steady her nerves for a moment before calling Grace’s phone and filling her in on the situation.

  “Don’t you worry. I’ll make sure she has a warm glass of milk before bed. She’ll be fine,” Grace said. “Her cold is getting better and I heard her humming today.”

  As Sierra went in to take a shower she felt pretty sure Tess wasn’t humming now. Some big sister she was turning out to be.

  * * *

  SHOWERED, FRESHLY SHAVED and whistling, Pike knocked on Sierra’s door. She opened it quickly, and his breath caught. Her red hair was damp again and combed straight back from her face. She wore a slender grass-green kimono trimmed in pink, belted at the waist, plunging at the neckline. The diamond in her necklace rested in the hollow of her throat. It was the only jewelry he’d ever seen her wear.

  Every single time he saw her, she seemed to seep a little deeper into his pores. “You look amazing,” he said.

  She smiled. “I haven’t had time to get dressed yet.”

  “Don’t hurry on my account,” he told her.

  She smiled again. “I have an idea.”

  “I have an idea, too,” he said, and took her hands. “It’s been forty-seven minutes, you know.”

  “Mine is about Raoul Ruiz,” she said as he pulled her against his chest. He kissed her neck, pushing aside the damp hair, inhaling her.

  “Mine isn’t,” he said. He found her mouth and kissed her. She was so soft and warm and welcoming. He kissed her over and over again, his body screaming with anticipation. He’d never wanted a woman the way he wanted her. “You are driving me crazy,” he whispered against her ear.

  She pulled away from him and looked into his eyes. “Oh, Pike. Are you sure? I can’t promise you anything—”

  “I’m not asking for promises,” he interrupted. “All I want is the here and now.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked as she cupped his face in her hands and kissed his lips. Her half-closed eyes made his breath catch. “Are you positive?” she added, her lips brushing his cheekbone, his temple.

  He lowered his head and kissed her throat. Was he positive? Hell, no. But he was certain that he was willing to take his chances. There was no other option. He could no more stay away from her than indefinitely hold his breath. The future would just have to take care of itself. “Trust me,” he said.

  There was a knock on the door and they looked at each other. “I’ll get it,” he said, and reluctantly released his grip on her arms. A waiter rolled a small table into the room and asked if he could set things up for them. Pike signed the bill, handed the kid a twenty and told him they’d take care of it themselves.

  He turned his back on the covered trays. His growing hunger couldn’t be sated with food. He went back to Sierra and led her to the bed. “Dinner is going to be late,” he said, sliding the kimono down over her shoulder, kissing the exposed skin.

  She raised his head and stared into his eyes. “This is all happening so fast,” she said.

  “I feel like I’ve known you my entire life,” he whispered as he sat on the bed and pulled her beside him. He continued to kiss her throat as he cupped her silk-covered breast.

  “I’ve never known anyone like you,” she whispered.

  “I’m just a cowboy,” he said.

  “I’m not talking about that,” she murmured. “I’m talking about your heart.”

  “Currently beating off the charts because of you,” he murmured as he slipped the kimono farther down her arm and the belt gave way. He’d never seen or touched a more sensational, creamy, beautiful woman in his life. Her breasts were firm but soft, her stomach flat, hips flaring from a small waist. It took her about thirty seconds to tear off his clothes before they fell together back on the bed. For a moment, he paused, just looking at her face, devouring her beauty, and then she touched him, and after that, everything happened at once.

  She was everywhere. Under him, on top of him, seemingly insatiable, arousing parts of him in ways he’d never expected. He strove to be the best lover he’d ever been and then he forgot to worry about it and it seemed she did, too. Instead, they stopped being two people and became one, perfectly in sync, both giving, both taking until the climactic moment that culminated in the beginning of the rest of his life.

  He knew he shouldn’t think like that. He did so, anyway. Thoughts were private and free. It was uttering them that exacted a price.

  At last they lay spent, arms and legs entangled, her head resting on his shoulder. He ran his fingers up and down her arm. He couldn’t believe she was lying here with him, that for this moment, she was his.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “Almost.”

  She tilted her head back to look at him and smiled. “You are something else.”

  “The feeling is mutual.”

  “No, I mean it. I’ve never been with a man who was more sure of who and what he is. It’s
spellbinding. It’s fascinating.”

  He kissed her succulent lips and knew he would never grow tired of the feel and scent of her.

  “You hungry?” he asked after a while.

  “Getting there. I need to make a call first.”

  “Tess?”

  “No, I called her after we got back today. Now I need to call Camila, Mrs. Ruiz’s housekeeper.” Her voice sounded anything but businesslike, more sleepy and contented than exacting. “It just occurred to me that she might know Shorts’s real name or know where he lives. She may be able to give us a lead to follow tomorrow.”

  “The intrepid private eye, always at work,” he said, sitting up.

  She smiled at him. “Not always,” she said, and pulled him back down beside her. “Where do you think you’re going?” she whispered while nibbling his ear. Her breasts felt weighty and soft against his arm.

  “Nowhere,” he said, smoothing the hair away from her forehead and kissing her eyelids. “Nowhere at all.”

  * * *

  BETWEEN ONE THING and another, Sierra didn’t get around to calling Camila Sanchez until morning, while Pike took a shower in his own room. After grabbing coffee and bagels in the lobby, they slid back into the rental. Pike took the wheel again.

  “Head east toward Victorville,” Sierra told him as she showed him the map on her phone.

  He waited until commuter traffic thinned out before saying much. “Okay, tell me what Camila said.”

  “She knows Shorts because he’s one of the punks who hangs out with Raoul. His sister lives on a piece of property this side of Victorville. It’s about two hours from here, maybe more with traffic. She wasn’t sure what the woman’s name is, but she knows Shorts taps her when he needs cash. And if he was traveling, he would need cash, right?”

  “Sounds reasonable. How are we supposed to find her?”

  “We look for an auto-wrecking place this side of the city.”

  California had endured a drought for the past few years. Pike was used to the unending vistas of the plateau at home, and in this way, the golden, rolling near-desert struck a familiar chord. Not that the scenery mattered. Being anywhere with Sierra by his side was far better than being anywhere else without her. Even driving out into the desert in a rental car became something of a joyful event with her along. He warned himself he was falling too hard and too fast. He reminded himself of the ground rules: ultimate termination of the relationship. And then he glanced over at her, her face half covered with sunglasses, her pink lips spread into a smile, and he knew all the warnings in the world were inadequate.