by Julie Miller
She shook her head. “There are men looking for me. And I don’t have any idea why. That’s pretty frightening.”
“I can keep you safe,” he said confidently. “Now let’s roll. There’s a piece of apple pie in my car that we can split for breakfast.”
She reached out and touched his arm. Her hand was warm and soft. “Thank you,” she said softly.
She was lovely. But he couldn’t forget the wedding dress that she’d wadded up in the corner wastebasket. She was someone’s fiancée for sure. Maybe someone’s wife. “You can have the bathroom first,” he said. He had a call to make.
She got out of bed, looking like a waif in his T-shirt and sweatpants. They needed to get her some clothes, some boots. When the bathroom door closed, separating them, he reached for his phone.
Chase answered on the second ring. “Hello,” he said, his tone almost a whisper.
“It’s me. Cal.”
There was a pause. “Are you okay?”
“Good. I’m good. You?”
“Fine.” Chase took a breath. “Where the hell are you?”
“In Missouri,” Cal said. “I could be at the house for dinner.”
“That...that would be nice. But I’m in St. Louis. With Raney.”
“Who’s Raney?”
Chase laughed softly. “Don’t worry. You’ll get to know her. I’m going to marry her.”
Cal felt a rush of emotions. He swallowed hard and managed to say in a fairly normal tone, “It’s a good thing my heart is strong. Congratulations,” he added.
“Thanks,” Chase said. “It’s a long story but Raney is testifying this week and maybe next. That’s why I’m whispering. I’m at the courthouse for an early morning meeting with attorneys before testimony begins later today.”
The pieces were clicking together. Raney was the witness that his brother had been protecting.
“Just as soon as she finishes, we’ll be back at the house. In the meantime, you’re welcome to stay. There’s an extra key in the garage, in a coffee can under some nails and screws, on a shelf on the rear wall.”
He laughed. “Old habits,” he said. As kids, there had always been an extra key to the house somewhere in the garage. It was comforting to know that some things never changed. He thought about telling his brother about Stormy. Knew it wouldn’t change Chase’s mind about offering up a place to stay. But it might divert his attention from where it needed to be—on the woman who’d evidently turned the confirmed bachelor around. “I’ll take you up on the offer and I’ll have the coffee on when you and Raney get back.”
“You do that,” Chase said. He cleared his throat. “I’m really glad you’re home, Cal. I’m really glad you called.”
* * *
THE APPLE PIE was really good. And she enjoyed the bag of chips that came afterward. “Breakfast of champions,” she said. They were in his SUV. He’d brushed the snow off and scraped the ice away and was now sitting next to her. The vehicle was warming up nicely.
The only activity at the hotel since they’d left their room was the arrival of a pickup truck that had a plow attached to the front end. The driver was clearing the parking lot again, working around the cars as best he could. He had waved as he’d taken his first pass by them but otherwise ignored them.
Cal had watched him closely for several minutes and evidently decided he wasn’t any threat because he’d started in on his own breakfast. “Yep, beats an MRE any day,” he said, biting into his half of the pie. “And a restaurant is out of the question right now. I don’t want to take a chance on the wrong people seeing you.”
The wrong people. Who the hell were they? Would she suddenly recognize them if she saw them? Maybe that would work. Maybe she should chase after the Mercedes Men and force a confrontation. It dawned on her that maybe that was exactly what Cal had planned. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“To Ravesville,” he said.
“Where you grew up?” she said, remembering their earlier conversation.
“Yes. Just talked to my brother.” He turned to her. “Who’s engaged. Unbelievable.”
She laughed. “Is he twelve?”
He frowned. “Of course not.”
“Then why is it so unbelievable? People get engaged and married all the time.”
He looked over his shoulder at the wedding dress he’d retrieved from the trash can and once again thrown into the backseat. “Obviously.”
Now it was her turn to stammer. “I mean...people do...but even so...I don’t think I did.”
He stared at her, his gaze piercing. “Why is that?” he asked finally.
“I think I would know. I think I wouldn’t forget something like that.”
“At the risk of stating the obvious, you don’t even remember your name.”
He hadn’t said it unkindly. Just matter-of-fact. She totally understood his skepticism. But married? She would not have forgotten that. But it was a waste of time to dwell on it when her mind was blank. “So we’re going to your family’s home?”
“Yes. My brother’s been living there, getting the house ready to sell. He’s away right now but we can use the house.”
She would be alone with this man in a strange place. She could feel her skin warm suddenly and she felt ill, as if the pie might make a return appearance. What the hell was her body trying to tell her?
Was she making a mistake? Was this the wrong thing to do?
“You look a little green,” he said.
Probably because her body was trying to tell her no and her brain, which knew she had no other option, was saying full steam ahead.
“I’m fine,” she said, dismissing his concern.
He didn’t look convinced. “I imagine you’d feel better in clothes that fit. Once we get to Ravesville and you’re settled at the house, I can take care of that.”
The idea of him buying her clothes made her heat up again. That was an intimate thing for a man to do for a woman. She didn’t know what to say.
He didn’t seem to expect an answer. Maybe he bought clothes for women all the time.
She didn’t think so. He’d been a SEAL. Not a lot of department stores where they worked.
Would he ask her about sizes or simply do a visual inspection? Oh boy. She was edging toward hot.
“It normally wouldn’t be that far in good weather,” he said, oblivious to her temperature-control troubles. “It will take us longer today. But first there’s something we need to do.”
“What’s that?”
“Remember last night I told you that I thought the Mercedes Men were going to come back. We need to see if I was right.”
That was a bucket of ice water. “How do you propose we do that?”
“We need to get somewhere where we can see them and they can’t see us.”
She looked around. The palette was white with a little gray from the bare trees. But then she saw what might be a possibility. The hotel was on a service road, off the Interstate. It went for about a half mile before it reconnected with the highway.
Down the service road, about halfway to the Interstate, were two other buildings. She hadn’t noticed them the previous night. Of course, it had been dark when they’d arrived. It wasn’t another hotel. No, these were one-story cement structures, each with three big garage doors. The building closest to them had a partial second story made of wood, painted white, as if it had been added at some time.
From that vantage they would certainly have a good view of the hotel parking lot but would need binoculars if they wanted to see anything in detail. She realized she was tracking when he reached into the backseat, unzipped his bag and pulled out a pair. She looked at them closer. Military issue. Very nice.
“We still need to get into the building,” she said.
He put the binoculars to his eyes and took a long look. When he pulled them away, he said, “There are only two cars in the parking lot for two big buildings. Both are snow-covered. I suspect the cars were there all night. Now, it’s possible that somebody spent the night at work. More likely, I’d think, that the drivers were too nervous to drive their own vehicles and got a ride with a coworker.”
“What if you’re wrong? What if there are people inside.”
He shrugged. “Hopefully, we can avoid any interaction.”
“Hopefully,” she said drily. “But there may be more people coming. It’s a workday.”
“In Missouri, two inches of snow can bring the economy to a standstill. Eight to ten inches like this is a hundred-pound gorilla. People won’t be able to get out of their driveways. Anyone who can won’t want to travel any farther than the local store to get bread and milk. I’m going with the relatively safe assumption that anybody who works there has the day off.”
“There’s still the issue of the building being locked.”
He smiled. “Locked doors aren’t generally too much of a problem for me. Alarm systems, now, they can be a bit trickier. Let’s just hope there isn’t one.”
“So we’re just going to drive down there, park and hope for the best?”
“Something like that,” he said.
She had to admire his confidence that bordered on cockiness. And it certainly felt good to be doing something versus hiding out in a hotel room. She glanced at the road again. “A plow must have come through sometime during the night.”
“At 4:18 this morning,” he said, proving that she really had slept like a log once she’d finally relaxed. “The road is drifting shut again but we’ll be able to get through.”
It appeared the plow had done two swipes on the service road, one in and one out. It would have been a stretch to say they’d cleared both lanes. On each side of the road, snow was piled up high, probably four or five feet, making it look as if the road was a tunnel.
He was probably right. Most drivers would decide to stay home today.
She watched the plow driver finish clearing the hotel lot. “But their parking lot hasn’t been plowed. We’ll get stuck for sure if we try to pull in.”
“I know. That’s where I’m hoping we get a little luck.”
“In the form of...?” She let her voice trail off.
“In the form of this guy,” he said, indicating the man driving the plow. “I’m hoping that he’s a smart entrepreneur and has a contract to plow out all the businesses along this service road.”
That would make sense. It would make his drive to this area worthwhile. On a day like this, to a person who did that kind of work, time was money.
It took the plow driver another ten minutes to finish the hotel lot. She realized she was holding her breath as she watched him drive to the exit of the hotel. When he turned right, she let out a breath. Two minutes later, when he made another right into the other parking lot, she smiled. “Today’s our lucky day,” she said.
“That would be nice,” Cal said. He turned off the engine. “We’re going to be here a little while,” he explained. “I don’t want to raise suspicion if somebody looks out of their hotel room and sees us idling here for a long period.”
It made sense but without heat pouring through the vents, the SUV quickly chilled and she was grateful for Cal’s warm coat. Even though she’d protested, Cal had given it to her before they’d left the hotel. “No way to avoid your feet getting wet,” he’d said. “I’d carry you but somebody might see it and think it looked odd. We don’t want to draw any unnecessary attention.”
Her feet had gotten wet on the way to the car and now they were cold. But she didn’t complain.
It took another fifteen minutes before they saw the plow driver exit the parking lot, turn right and head away from them. They waited until they saw his truck merge back onto the Interstate. Then Cal started the SUV again. He put the vehicle in Drive and took off.
When they got close, she could see that the plow driver had done a pretty good job pushing the snow to the sides, although the people who owned the cars weren’t going to be happy. He hadn’t been as careful to go around the cars as he’d been in the hotel lot. Instead, there were big piles behind each car, effectively pinning them in.
Close-up, she realized that the two buildings were attached, similarly to how some houses were connected to garages. There was a small wooden breezeway between the two cement buildings. “That looks new,” she said.
“Probably has more to do with summer than winter. Missouri gets hot and the people who work here probably want to be able to move from building to building without ever having to go outside when it’s ninety-five degrees.”
Just that quick, she could see herself in a sleeveless linen dress, briefcase strap over one shoulder, walking down stone steps, relishing the hot, humid air. Don’t get me wrong, she was saying. I’m grateful for the air-conditioning but do they have to keep it at sixty?
Who was she talking to? Where was she?
“Stormy?” Cal asked.
She shook her head. “It’s nothing,” she said. She wasn’t really lying. It was worth nothing.
Cal shrugged and pulled close to the building that had the second story. In addition to the three big garage doors, there was a regular door at the end closest to them. “That’s our best bet,” he said. “Wait here while I check it.”
He got out of the SUV, moving fast. He tried the door but it didn’t open. He reached into his pocket, pulled something out and went to work on the lock. Within seconds he had the door open. She was impressed. She’d jimmied open a few locked doors in her time but not that quickly.
She put her hand to her mouth. How did she know that?
The knowledge had literally just popped into her head when she’d seen the door swing open. She wanted to launch herself out of the vehicle and tell Cal that she’d remembered something that might be important. At least it seemed more important than some vague recollection of walking down steps, conversing about the weather. However, she immediately dismissed the idea. She wouldn’t offer up the information until she knew for sure what it meant.
Maybe she was a thief?
The idea sat heavy on her heart. She didn’t want to wake up from this nightmare and find out that she was a bad person.
Cal stuck his head inside the building. In just seconds, he pulled back, turned, locked eyes with her and motioned for her to wait. Then he went inside, closing the door behind him.
It dawned on her that this was her chance. The keys were in the ignition, the SUV was running.
It would be easy to be on the road before he knew what was happening.
She put her hand on her door. Opened it. Drew in a breath. A mad dash around the rear of the vehicle would do it. She could slip into his seat, put the car in Drive and be on her way.
She pushed the door open enough to get one foot out. His socks were dull against the much whiter snow.
Mother Nature. Purity. In the rawest sense.
Yet it would have killed her.
If this man had not saved her.
Not once but probably twice when he’d come back to the hotel to warn her.
But if she didn’t go now, it might be too late.
CHAPTER SIX
She pulled her foot back in, closed her door and let out the breath she’d been holding. She wasn’t going to steal his vehicle and leave him stranded. He didn’t even have his coat.
A bad person would do that. And if she’d been bad in the past, she was turning over a new leaf, beginning immediately.
She waited another five minutes before she saw anything. Then all three of the three big garage doors that lined the front of the first building started to open. Her heart beat fast in her chest and didn’t
slow down until she saw Cal poke his head out of the closest opening.
He walked back to the SUV and swung into the seat. “Place is clear. I’m going to pull my SUV inside. The Mercedes Men are likely to see this building as well and may want to come take a look. I don’t want to make it easy for them by leaving my vehicle in the parking lot. They’ve already seen it once. Unless they’re really a bunch of goons, somebody is going to remember that.”
He put the SUV in Reverse, not Drive. It took her just a minute to realize that he planned to back into the empty space. That was smart. Easier to get away quickly if all one had to do was pull out.
She could see that there was enough room for his SUV but that was about it. There were similar empty spaces in front of the other two garage doors. Once they got the vehicle inside and she stepped out of it, she saw that the rest of the building, which was probably the size of a football field, was filled with big boxes. “What’s in all these?”
“High-end sleds. Wood toboggans. They produce in the other building and warehouse in this space. I opened one of the boxes. Quality stuff.”
She started to laugh. Couldn’t help it.
“What’s so funny?” He pushed a button on the wall and all three garage doors closed. The space was suddenly darker, colder.
“It’s like we found the Missouri branch of Santa’s workshop. I’m waiting for the elves to jump out, to tell us to skedaddle, that time is a wasting and the big guy in the red suit can be a real taskmaster.”
“Abominable Snowman? Elves? Santa? I’m seeing a theme here.”
She nodded. Would she have her memory back by Christmas? Would she be alive at Christmas? If the Mercedes Men meant to do her harm, could she evade them for that length of time?
“Are you still going to be in Missouri at Christmas?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” he said. “I’m not thinking that far out.”
That was undoubtedly a good approach. She would try not to worry about anything beyond her immediate control. “What’s upstairs?” she asked.
“Offices.”
“Is there a good view of the hotel parking lot?”
