Her Man Flint

by Jerri Drennen

  Entering through the back, he took the service elevator up to the sixth floor. He peered around, not wanting to be seen. He made his way to Morgan’s door and knocked. The door immediately flew opened.

  “Flint, I knew you’d come ba—” Lindsey voiced faded out when she saw him.

  “What’s the matter? Aren’t you happy to see me, sweetheart?”

  He pushed her inside and closed the door behind him.

  “Ryan, I—”

  “No more lies. I don’t want to hear them anymore. I should’ve realized sooner that something was wrong between us, but I’ve been busy making money so you could have anything you wanted. When did you fall for the guy? What’s he got that I don’t?” Ryan badgered, backing her against the wall.

  “I care for you, Ryan. It’s just that you asked me to sleep with him. That hurt.”

  “Oh, really.” He grinned and smacked her hard across the cheek. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, and Lindsey glared at him, then pushed him away and rushed to grab the gun from the kitchen counter.

  Ryan reached it first.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Were you going to shoot me, Lindsey?” His temper flared. “Now what kind of girlfriend are you? Trying to shoot your devoted lover.” He shook his head in disgust as he placed the gun to her temple and cocked the trigger.

  “I loved you. Did you know that? We could have gone places together, baby.” He hooked his nimble fingers into curly red hair and yanked.

  “Now, I’m going to let you please me one last time. And, if you do a really good job, then maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you live. So your life is completely in your hands and mouth.” He laughed and shoved her onto her knees.

  “I’m ready when you are.”

  * * *

  Flint scanned the street, the last twenty-five minutes spent trying to find Adriana. She couldn’t have gotten too far.

  Why had she chosen that exact moment to show up at his apartment, and to apologize to him, no less?

  Everything he’d planned for them had flown right out the window.

  Flint shook his head in frustration.

  When he found her, what would he say? It’s not what it looks like. Oh yeah, he’d tried that. What else could it look like? Lindsey kissed him. That much was obvious, but could he convince Dray he hadn’t wanted the kiss?

  God, he had to somehow. If he couldn’t, then Adriana would be lost to him forever, and that was not an option. He wanted Dray. He needed her in his life. He’d realized that the six months they’d been apart. She brought out the best in him, made him see there was more to life than the DNS, and all that entailed.

  Taking a deep breath, he headed back to his apartment. He’d get Lindsey, drop her off at a battered woman’s shelter, then drive over to Adriana’s and beg her forgiveness if he had to.

  Lindsey definitely needed to get away from Hartford. What kind of man hit a woman? It just added another offense to Hartford’s long list of criminal activities. What was next for the guy?

  He shook his head, turned the corner and headed up the street to his apartment.

  On the ride up in the elevator, he thought about how he’d break the news to Lindsey about the shelter. If she were smart, she’d get as far away from Ryan Hartford as she could.

  He unlocked his apartment door, half expecting Lindsey to pounce as soon as he came in.

  “Lindsey, I’m back.” Flint looked around. Where was she? He headed for his bedroom door and knocked. “I need to discuss something with you. Are you decent?” The last thing he wanted was to catch her half-naked.

  “Lindsey, where are you?”

  He eased the door open and saw her lying on the bed with his pillow covering her head. So she’d fallen asleep. He’d just have to wake her. The longer he waited with Adriana, the more time she’d have to stew, and he knew from experience that wasn’t good.

  “Lindsey, you need to wake up.” He placed his hand on her arm.

  Nothing.

  “Lindsey.” He took the pillow off her head and stared at the red spatters on it.

  Aw fuck! His heart pounded out of control. He carefully rolled her over and found what he expected. A neat little hole in the center of her forehead.

  “Shit.” He backed away from the bed.

  He pulled his gun from its holster in his nightstand and bolted to the bathroom, pushing open the door to look inside. Empty.

  He walked through his apartment, but found nothing out of place. He should call someone, but who? If he contacted the police, they’d think he killed Lindsey. He’d bet money she was shot with the gun he’d given her, and he had no alibi for the last half-hour.

  Even if he could convince them he had nothing to do with her murder, he’d still lose his DNS cover.

  What the hell was he going to do?

  He ran his hands through his hair, nervously mussing it, then looked back at Lindsey.

  Why? Why would Hartford kill her? It had to be him. Hell, it couldn’t have been anyone else. After all, he’d been the one to inflict the bruises earlier that day. The man was an animal.

  What a waste. She was such a beautiful woman. She definitely didn’t deserve to die.

  Flint’s heart clenched and a sick feeling engulfed him. This was his fault. She’d still be alive if he had stayed with her.

  How was he going to live with that knowledge? He might as well have placed the gun to her head himself. “Damn it. I’m so sorry, Lindsey,” he whispered, reeling with anguish.

  In a daze, he walked to the closet and pulled out his duffle bag. He knew he’d need to clear himself before he went to the cops.

  Stuffing in a change of clothes, he grabbed his bag and headed to the kitchen. With heavy regret, he left through the back stairwell.

  He’d go to his Uncle Robert’s cabin outside Aspen until he could determine Hartford’s whereabouts at the time he was looking for Adriana. If he could somehow pin Ryan to the area at the time, he might be able to convince the Denver police Hartford should be their prime suspect.

  Flint threw his bag in the backseat of his Cobra, jumped in and headed out of town.

  He knew he wouldn’t get that chance to explain anything to Adriana. Hell, he’d be lucky if she ever spoke to him again. She might even think he killed Lindsey, and that fact would hurt more than anything else.

  * * *

  Adriana fumbled with her keys, desperate to open her front door. Tears filled her eyes. The scene she’d witnessed earlier played over and over in her head. How could he whisper sweet words in her ear one night and kiss another woman the next day. Lindsey Warren, no less, her sworn enemy—a woman who had almost gotten Flint killed. How could he still want her after what she’d done?

  Angry and humiliated, she pushed open the door and slammed it behind her, a picture on the wall falling from the force. To heck with it.

  She hurried to her bedroom, dropped onto her bed and cried.

  She’d gone to Flint’s to apologize for hurting him, had ever chose to wear her sexiest lingerie under her clothing. She’d intended to fall into bed with him, only to find him on his way there with someone else.

  How could he? She really thought he wanted her. He’d sure as hell had last night. That much she could tell when he held her close. Flint’s passion for her had been obvious. So why? Why, Flint? Why can’t you love me? Why can’t you be faithful to anyone?

  “I hate you, Flint Morgan.” Fresh tears filled her eyes. “If I ever see you again, I’ll kill you.”

  She buried her face in the blanket and sobbed until she was too exhausted to continue, then fell asleep.

  Chapter Eight

  A loud banging roused Adriana out of a deep, dreamless sleep. “What is that?” She pulled the pillow over her head.

  “Adriana, let me in,” a muffled voice insisted, then the banging started again.

  Easing herself off the mattress, she stumbled into the living room to the front door.

  Still half asleep, her fingers groped wi
th the chain lock, her hand-eye coordination on the fritz.

  “Crap.” She yanked at the lock. “Stop making that noise! I’m coming,” she screamed, the chain finally giving way.

  Adriana opened the door and found Billy standing in the hallway. He looked as if he hadn’t slept all night and his features were grim. “What’s wrong?”

  “I think we should sit down.” Billy closed the door and guided her toward the sofa.

  “Just tell me what’s going on, Billy. It’s Flint, isn’t it?” Adriana’s heart picked up its pace. If something had happened to him she’d never forgive herself for leaving him in Lindsey’s arms yesterday. Jealous or not, she should have stayed.

  “Yeah, it’s Flint.”

  Those few words registered pure terror inside her. “Oh God, no.” What if she never saw him again?

  “Calm down, Adriana. Flint’s not dead. But he’s in big trouble. He called me a few hours ago and told me Lindsey Warren was killed in his apartment. He’d left her yesterday afternoon to go looking for you. When he got back, he found her on his bed with a bullet in her head.” Billy’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “He was afraid the police would think he killed her, so he packed some things and got out. According to a friend of mine, the police received an anonymous tip and have been at Flint’s apartment since early this morning. They have an APB out for him. He’s in real trouble with what I’ve been able to gather from my source at the Denver P.D. They think he killed her.”

  “But—” Adriana couldn’t believe what was happening.

  “Why else would he run from the scene?” Billy said, playing devil’s advocate. “And what’s worse, I’m afraid they’re going to find out he’s with DNS and that’ll make matters worse. His cover will be blown. Do you have any idea where he’d go?” Billy paused to catch his breath. “He needs to turn himself in quickly and quietly, Adriana.”

  “Why would I know where his is? Flint and I haven’t exactly been on stellar terms lately. I’m lucky he talks to me at all. You’re the one he called, not me, remember?”

  She couldn’t believe this. Who killed Lindsey? Ryan Hartford.

  But more importantly, how had Flint dealt with finding Lindsey dead? Would he blame her? After all, he’d probably been out looking for her when Lindsey was murdered?

  Her mind raced, contemplating where Flint would go. Where could he hide out until the heat was off? Somewhere secluded. Somewhere no one knew about.

  A light flashed in her consciousness. His Uncle’s cabin in Aspen. That’s where he had to have gone. She’d bet her own life on it. But she wasn’t going to tell Billy. Not yet.

  “I don’t know, Billy. I just don’t know,” she lied. She hoped he believe her.

  “All right, but if you think of anything, call me as soon as you can. I’m going to run down to the precinct and find out what actual evidence they have to link him, other than the fact that her body was found in his apartment. If I find out anything, I’ll call you. Try not to worry.” He rose and went to the door. “Even if I don’t learn anything, I’ll call you tonight.”

  “Okay, Billy. Talk to you soon.”

  Adriana watched him leave, already planning her trip to Aspen.

  When Billy was gone, she jumped up to go to her bedroom to pack. She planned to find Flint and didn’t care one way or the other if he’d be happy to see her or not.

  * * *

  Flint stepped onto the front porch of his uncle’s redwood cabin and took in a deep, cleansing breath. The place was breathtaking. All green and lush.

  At this elevation, he could see for miles. In the distance were snow topped mountains, even though it was still early fall. The air felt crisp and the scent of pine lingered.

  The place was intoxicating, almost to the point of lulling the senses. So peaceful, but Flint felt anything but tranquil at that moment.

  Memories of the prior afternoon rushed back to remind him he was probably a wanted man. The Denver police were surely looking for him by now. And, Adriana knew Lindsey was dead.

  Lindsey’s lifeless face popped into his mind, and with it came the intense feeling of guilt. He knew if he had stayed with her, she’d still be alive today. That tore him up inside. Unfortunately, he’d have to live with that fact for the rest of his life. But he couldn’t allow guilt to screw up his ability to survive. He had to think clearly if he wanted to get out of this mess.

  Flint turned and walked back into the cabin.

  He’d drink a cup of coffee, then take a nice hot shower and try to sort out things.

  He knew he couldn’t bring Lindsey back, but he sure as hell could find the man who killed her and put him where he belonged—behind bars.

  * * *

  Adriana pulled her Porsche onto a graveled side road and shifted it into park.

  Grabbing her purse, she found the small atlas she’d bought and studied it, trying desperately to remember where Flint had told her his uncle’s cabin was located.

  Think Adriana.

  She stuffed the map back inside her handbag and pulled the car back onto the main road.

  She was driving blind, but she had to find him, and she had to do it before it got dark. She’d have to spend the night at a motel if she didn’t, then try again in the morning. The area was new to her, and the last thing she needed was to get lost in the woods.

  Speeding down the road, she wondered what Flint was doing at that moment. Was he devastated over Lindsey’s death? Would he be happy to see her, or would he try to send her away?

  As another hour passed and the sun dropped low in the west, casting an array of orange-purple-red hues in the east, it was quite a sight, but Adriana couldn’t enjoy it. She’d have to find a motel.

  It angered her she was so close to Flint, but she wouldn’t get a chance to see him tonight. She’d have to be content with talking to him in the morning, after she found the cabin.

  She stopped long enough to pull out the map again to find the nearest town. She prayed they’d have accommodations. Although, she was pretty confident this close to Aspen, any town would have a motel of some size.

  Fifteen minutes later, Adriana pulled up in front of a motel, its sign flashing vacancies.

  When she got out of the car and looked around, she realized why. The place probably had an outhouse for facilities. If she weren’t so darn tired, she’d keep driving.

  Adriana grabbed her purse and headed into the motel’s office. Maybe if she requested their best room, it would at least be clean.

  A cowbell jangled loudly overhead when she opened the door and entered, turning all heads in her direction. Three elderly men sat at a small round table inside, playing some sort of card game. All three stopped long enough to check her out before turning back to their game.

  Adriana walked to the counter where a blonde-haired clerk stood.

  “Can I help you?” the younger man asked.

  She smiled. “Yes. I’m going to need a room for the night”

  “Okay. Will that be all night?” He glanced over at the older men, grinned, and looked back at Adriana. The men smiled at one another as if they shared a private joke.

  She stared back, wondering what they find so amusing?

  “Do you get much hourly business here?” At her inquiry, Adriana heard the old men snicker.

  “You’d be surprised,” the clerk answered and winked at her.

  Adriana frowned. “I’ll be staying all night.”

  “Would you like a single or a double?”

  “A single, please.”

  The Geriatric group behind her laughed again.

  Adriana spun around and glanced from one to the other.

  She was going to regret asking, but did it anyway. “What’s so funny about requesting a single?”

  “Can’t get a man, huh?” one asked and gave her a toothless grin.

  “What?” Had she heard him right? The old goat had some nerve.

  “Most of the women who come here are waiting for a man to show up. You asking for
a single must mean you don’t have one coming,” the youngest of them said.

  “I’m looking for someone,” Adriana hissed.

  The old men eyes got big as they looked at each other, then commenced to straighten their collars.

  “We’re all married, but what our wives don’t know, won’t hurt um,” the oldest of the men said, then winked at her.

  Adriana stared at them in total dismay. What the hell were they talking about? Then it dawned on her what she’d said and she felt her face burn with embarrassment. If she hadn’t been so tired she would have caught on to their outrageous proposition sooner.

  “No! I meant,” she said flustered. “Oh, just forget it.” Her attention turned the desk clerk. Maybe he’d help. “Do you have a room or not?”

  He nodded. “Yep, sign here, and of course, I’ll need a credit card or cash in advance.”

  “Right.” Adriana opened her purse and took out her credit card and handed it to him. He quickly ran it through a machine, then gave it back.

  The clerk winked at her again. “Thank you, Adriana.”

  Adriana signed the receipt, grabbed her key and left the office, never so happy to walk out of a place in her life.

  Dirty old men. At her car, she opened the trunk and grabbed her bag. She’d make sure she locked her door securely that night, especially with the likes of those lechers lurking about.

  After a lukewarm shower in water Adriana was sure swam with amoebas, she lay on the lumpy old mattress and stared at the map.

  Why couldn’t she remember what Flint told her about where his uncle’s cabin was located? Was she losing it, too?

  Her mind drifted back to the very beginning of their relationship. It’d been new and exciting. Every minute with Flint had been exhilarating, he’d been so giving in every way. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he loved her. What a crock that idea was.

  Anyway, enough reminiscing. Concentrate, Adriana.

  Flint told her about his parents being killed when he was very young and his Uncle Robert had taken him in and raised him. He’d obviously been an important influence in his life, and that’s when he’d told her about their annual fishing trips to his uncle’s cabin. On Evergreen Road. That’s it.