He finished showering. He pushed his wet hair back from his face then reached for a towel to wrap around his hips. Among his purchases from the clerk, was a razor. Gage rubbed the stubble on his jaw. To hell with it.
Back in the bedroom, Mallory was seated on the bed, against the head board. Her hair had dried some and now tendrils of the thick brown strands framed her face softly and curled around her bare shoulders. Seated as she was, her breasts strained against the towel and Gage got rock hard again.
He looked away from her and to the television in an effort to distract himself. But the dresser was against the wall behind the TV, with its large mirror, and Mallory was reflected in all her splendor in the looking glass.
“Are you going to stand there all night?”
Gage turned to her. “What?”
“Guess we should have asked for a cot, though I’d be surprised if this place had them.”
“No problem.” Gage cleared his throat. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“The floor is hard and cold. This bed is large enough. No reason we shouldn’t both get a good night’s sleep.”
Sleep? With her in bed with him? Good luck. He’d already tried that and failed and now that he knew what it was like to have her in his bed, his mind went to work supplying him with memories of her pressed tight to him. He blew out a breath. Oh, yeah, no sleep for him tonight.
* * *
The mattress dipped as Gage got into the bed with her. Mallory recalled what that solid body had felt like against her own when they’d shared the mattress at the cabin. A slow burn began in her lower belly and was spreading. Maybe sharing a bed hadn’t been her best idea. But she certainly didn’t want him to have to spend the night on the floor because she couldn’t reign in her hormones. She was just going to have to make the best of it.
He placed the gun on the nightstand then stretched out on his back giving her a view of his chest and abs. The muscles there were well defined and her gaze lingered. He hadn’t shaved and the stubble on his cheeks and jaw only made him look sexier.
“Do you mind if I turn out the light?” If she couldn’t see him, she’d be able to put him out of her mind. She hoped.
“Go ahead.”
She left the bed and turned off the ceiling light but left the bathroom light on with the door slightly ajar so they could find their way around the unfamiliar surroundings.
In that couple of minutes out of the bed, she got cold. She shivered and burrowed beneath the blanket. “Good night.”
“Night.”
His voice sounded strained. “Are you getting a cold?”
“No. Good night.”
She turned on her side and pulled the blanket up to her nose.
* * *
The temperature in the room dropped as the night got colder. In her sleep, Mallory had been inching across the bed. When her body touched Gage’s, he broke into a sweat.
He wanted to shift away from her. The feel of her against him was driving him out of his mind, but she was shivering from the cold. He put his arms around her. As his body heat penetrated she relaxed, grew warm and soft against him.
Her scent had been teasing him all night. She’d washed with the same soap and shampoo he’d used, but on her the fragrance had become something else altogether. Something that could not be found in a cosmetics bottle. It was her. All her.
She shifted slightly and her hand slid across his abdomen. He groaned.
* * *
Mallory felt deliciously warm. Slowly she became aware that she was pressed tight to a hard, male body. Gage. Her head was on his chest. One of her legs was atop one of his and his arms were banded around her. He was still on his side of the bed. It was she who’d moved.
She looked up. In the light streaming in from the bathroom, she could see that his gaze was on her. Desire sparked in his eyes. Her heart pounded. With his gaze locked on her, he ran his thumb tenderly across her cheek. A thrill of anticipation surged through her. When he bent his head to hers, she was already moving to him.
A breath from her lips, he went still. His muscles tensed. He vaulted from the bed, taking her with him. She was about to ask him what had possibly distracted him when she heard it. A scrape in the door lock.
Gage grabbed her hand and the gun from the nightstand. He led her to the wall behind the door, and took up a position in front of her. He chambered a round in the gun then pulled the door open.
Early morning light filled the room and a man fell forward. Tall. Broad in the shoulders but sagging around the middle. He looked like an ex-jock going to fat. Gage hooked him around the neck and jammed the barrel of the gun into his temple.
The man uttered a small cry. Something dropped out of his hands and fell to the floor. It was a key. The guy lifted his arms, clawing at Gage in an attempt to break Gage’s hold. It was a useless endeavor. Gage tightened his grip and put an end to the useless struggle.
Mallory stepped out from behind Gage. Her eyes lowered to the key. Gage was also looking at it. He hadn’t missed the fact that it was a key rather than some crude instrument that was being used to get into their room, either. Was the man Gage had subdued one of Considine’s men? Had Considine tracked them to this motel room and bribed or killed the clerk for the key?
Gage gave the man a shake that knocked his teeth together. “Who are you?”
“Oliver.” The man cried out. “Joseph Oliver.”
“Why were you breaking into this room?”
Oliver squealed. “Not breaking in.”
Gage’s muscles bunched as he increased his grip on the man’s throat. His voice dropped to a lethal whisper. “If you want to walk out of here, start talking.”
“It’s the—the truth. I swear it. I mean no harm to you and to your—your lady.” The man was stuttering and tears filled his eyes. “I made a mistake, that’s all. Don’t have my glasses. Wrong ro-om. I swear it!”
The man was now trembling in Gage’s hold. As far as assassin’s went, this one lacked the constitution for the job, Mallory thought. Was it possible he was telling the truth? Gage’s eyes narrowed and Mallory believed he was wondering the same thing.
Gage gave the man another shake. “What’s your room number?”
“Thirty seven. I forgot my glasses when I left my room. I thought this was my room. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Gage met Mallory’s gaze. “Mind getting the key?”
She picked it up. “Thirty seven.” Their room was thirty one. It was possible he’d mistaken the number.
“Where’s your ID?” Gage said.
“My co- coat pocket.”
Gage nodded to Mallory. She took out the man’s wallet and found a driver’s license. “Joseph Oliver.” She recited an address in Oregon. “What are you doing here, Joseph?”
“I’m attending a conference. I sell insurance.”
She found a business card that confirmed his occupation.
Gage raised a brow. “Your company didn’t spring for much in the way of accommodation.”
The man licked his lips. “This isn’t where I’m staying. I—ah—met a girl.”
A white line showed on his ring finger where he’d worn a wedding band until recently. The man was an adulterer, Mallory thought with disgust, but not an assassin. After this experience, she’d be surprised if he stepped out on his wife again.
Gage released Oliver. The man’s hands went to his throat, rubbing where Gage had no doubt hurt him. Mallory returned his key.
“Thank you. Thank you.”
Gage eyed Oliver. “Get out.”
Joseph Oliver ran.
The room was now as cold inside as out. Mallory hugged herself against the chill.
Gage closed the door. “I think we can leave here now.”
“Think so.”
Gage nodded. “We’d better get dressed then.”
But she noticed his gaze went to the rumpled bed where they’d been about to make love and held. He passed a hand back through his hair and b
lew out a long breath before turning away.
She knew how he felt. She was all too aware of being in that bed with him as well.
Snowbound: Chapter Seven
Gage hadn’t raised the subject of how close they came to making love in the motel room and Mallory hadn’t either. Might have been better if they had. Might have cleared the air. Or, maybe they would have picked up where they’d left off. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She was attracted to him. Her insides tightened now reminding her just how much.
She’d never been swept away by attraction as she was with him. Her cooler head had always prevailed. Maybe it had been for the best that this one time when her cool head had failed her, fate had intervened in the form of Joseph Oliver. She shifted position and cut off the thought that it didn’t feel like the best.
When they’d left the motel, they didn’t go back to the club for the truck, but left it to be towed and stored in impound. They took a cab to a car rental agency and picked out an inconspicuous compact, then when they’d arrived at Mallory’s apartment, they’d searched to make sure the place was unoccupied by anyone other than themselves.
Now they were eating scrambled eggs in Mallory’s living room with the key they’d obtained from Billy’s office on the coffee table in front of them.
They’d both taken showers and changed clothing. The clothes Gage had worn during the fire were spinning in her dryer and he’d changed into fresh clothes that her brother had left here on his last visit. Mallory’s brother John and Gage were the same size and the clothes fit well, but Mallory had never noticed that John was as broad in the shoulders or as solid in the chest as Gage. She recalled what those shoulders and chest had felt like when Gage had held her in his arms. She reached for the cold glass of orange juice on the table and drank deeply to cool the fire that ignited within her.
Gage set his empty plate down. “I want to check out the key. Looks like it might fit a locker at a bus or train station. Either of those local?”
Mallory brought her focus back to the investigation. “Both.”
He glanced at his watch. “How about it?”
Mallory nodded, and hoped that Billy had not rented a locker in another city.
The train station was closest to her apartment so they went there first. Inside, travelers toted bags and pulled luggage. A woman rocked a crying infant in her arms.
The young mother was in the center of the aisle and Mallory skirted her as she made her way to the banks of lockers at the back of the station. They were looking for locker one hundred eleven, according to the numbers on the key.
Gage took one end of the lockers. Mallory took the other. When she found a locker with the matching number, she signaled to Gage. He stuck the key in the lock.
“What are you doing there? That’s my locker.”
A man came up beside Gage. Forty something with shaggy hair tied back in a ponytail.
Gage recovered nicely. “My mistake.”
They backed away and took up a position by the wall in full view of the locker. The man swung the door open, revealing an assortment of clothing on hangers, several pairs of shoes and a uniform that belonged to a cleaning store. He retrieved the uniform and headed in the direction of the rest rooms.
Mallory shook her head. “Nothing suspicious there.”
Gage followed the man with his eyes. When the guy was out of sight, Gage returned to the locker. “To be sure.” He stuck the key in once again and twisted. It didn’t fit. “Onto the bus station.”
Unlike the train station, there were few people about. Ticket sellers held conversations among themselves. A man was stretched out across several seats, asleep. The aromas of coffee and fresh cinnamon buns filled the air.
Mallory pointed the lockers out to Gage. They found the number they wanted and this time when Gage inserted the key, the door opened. Mallory reached inside and removed the single item, a sealed manila envelope.
Gage closed the locker door. “Back to your place where we can check that out.”
* * *
Mallory sank down on her couch and removed a thick sheaf of papers from the envelope.
There were several photographs of young women, each individual photo stapled to a page that listed vital statistics—height—weight—hair color—date of birth—health status. She read each in turn then passed them to Gage, seated beside her on the arm of the sofa.
He took his time studying the pages. “Looks like a full work up was done on each woman.”
“And then some. Look at the writing on the back of the photos.”
“2/15 p.m.” He turned over another. “3/12 p.m.”
Mallory tapped the photo she held. “The handwriting is definitely Wilder’s. I saw his scribble enough times when I was working at the club to recognize it, but what do the notes mean? The numbers?”
“At a glance it looks like a notation of time. The dates the women were taken and that they were taken in the afternoons.” Gage turned the other photos around. “The numbers vary but not the letters: p.m. Why would it be noted that the girls were taken in the afternoons? Doesn’t make sense which leads me to believe the letters mean something else.”
“Found some loose photos.” Mallory flipped through them. “These don’t have any notations.” She paused. “This photo is Cindy Mars. The woman I told you about who Wilder claimed came in for a job but was turned away because of her lack of talent.”
Gage looked at the picture. “Wilder kept her around long enough to take a still.”
Mallory picked up another paper. “Here’s one with Billy’s personal information. Bank account numbers. A deed to his cabin.” She moved on and came to a listing of internet websites. She passed the pages to Gage.
While Gage bent over the papers, she left the table and went to the hall closet for her laptop. Back at the coffee table, she powered up, then keyed in one of the website addresses.
“Hmm. A dating site.” She read the features. “There are several chat rooms.” She tried a few of the other addresses. “These are dating sites as well. All with chat rooms.” She stared at the laptop screen. “Do you think this is how they’re doing it? How they’re targeting the women?”
“Looks like it could be,” Gage said. “This would work for the traffickers. Pictures and profiles are posted. All they have to do is make a selection, then establish contact.”
“Billy stashed this info for a reason. Makes sense he’d want to keep this part of the business away from the club. To be conducted away from the club.” Mallory paused, working through it. “No, I don’t believe that. He was not running this operation. Too slick. Too sophisticated. Obviously he knew about it, but he was subordinate, taking orders from Considine. Could be he assembled this data as insurance.”
“Wilder may have wanted some leverage against his ‘Don’ should he need it. Would come in handy if he got busted and needed to cut a deal with law enforcement.”
“Maybe Wilder isn’t as stupid as I thought.” She tapped the keyboard. “I want to build a profile, Gage, based on the information on these papers from Wilder’s locker. I’m going to post that profile to these sites on Billy’s list.”
“Going to need more than one if you don’t want whoever’s trolling these sites to make you as a plant.”
He was right. “Several profiles then. We’ll see who bites. I need to do this right. Make the descriptions irresistible to whoever is luring these women.”
Mallory put on a pot of coffee for Gage and brewed tea for herself. She needed ideas and needed to think. When the beverages were ready, she poured cups for herself and Gage and returned to the living room with them.
She hunched over her laptop. “The women in Billy’s photos are all brunettes. Between eighteen and twenty one.” She selected nineteen as the age for her profile and added that to the physical description. “Now for variety, I’ll play around with ethnicity and interests.” After she was done, she turned the laptop toward Gage. “What do you think?”
> He read the profiles carefully. “Nice job.”
Mallory took a sip of her tea. Stone cold. She winced and set the cup back on the table. “Next for the photographs. Can’t use mine since they know me.” She opened a software program.
Night had fallen by the time they’d finished. Her apartment window showed stars and a view of the skyline. Mallory left the sofa to turn on lights then uploaded the profiles through a secure account at the Bureau so an IP address would not be traced back to her.
She leaned back against the couch. “I’m starved. I have some take out menus in the drawer by the stove.” She left the sofa and returned with them. “What’ll it be?”
They decided on pizza with the works from a mom and pop restaurant where Mallory often ate.
“While we’re waiting, we can cross reference the loose photos with the Bureau’s missing person’s data base.” She keyed in her password, then scanned the photos one by one. “Well, this is curious.”
“What?”
“Only Cindy Mars is listed as missing.”
Gage leaned over her shoulder for a look. “I don’t know squat about hair styles and make-up, but I’d say those looks aren’t current. How far back did you search?”
“I thought of those things too and went back ten years, well before any of these shots were taken. Still, no one was flagged.”
Gage rubbed his index finger back and forth beneath his chin in thought. “Try something else. Upload those photos onto the internet. See if you get any matches.”
Mallory did as Gage suggested. “Here’s an obit for Molly Combs.”
“Cause of death mentioned?”
Mallory scanned the entry. “. . . after a brief battle with cancer. We got an entry for Rita Castile. It’s an advertisement for a club where she was listed as a dancer.” Mallory clicked on the link. “The entry goes back six years.”
“A long time in a dancer’s life. Rita may have moved on.”
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