Hell on Wheels

by Karen Kelley

  Maybe that was where his restlessness came from.

  Maybe that’s why he’d screwed up so many times this week. Things he would never do. Stupid things. He’d let a bail jumper slip right through his fingers and into Turbo’s eager hands. Damn, Turbo had to have loved that.

  The coffee suddenly tasted bitter. Man, he had to pull himself out of this funk and quit thinking about Cody before she really screwed up his head.

  Leaning forward, he grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. The evening news. That should lighten his mood, he thought sarcastically. Car wrecks, shootings, bombings. Yeah, sure, much less depressing.

  He listened for a few minutes and was about to switch it off when they flashed a picture across the screen right before the station broke for a commercial: a man in his late forties, brown hair graying at the temples. He had the tanned, leathery face of someone who was in the sun a lot.

  The man’s face had been splashed across the screen for the last couple of weeks. Hell, how could anyone have missed seeing Adam Sinclair? He had his finger in a lot of pots all over the country, mainly in construction.

  Then he’d screwed up. He knocked his partner off. At least he was the prime suspect, and apparently they had enough evidence that they’d arrested and arraigned him. Sinclair wasn’t as invincible as he thought.

  When the news came back on, he turned the volume up just as the newscaster began to talk.

  “Adam Sinclair made his mark in the construction world. The kind of man everyone cheered. The working man’s man. Adam Sinclair was what America is famous for—a country where you can go from rags to riches.”

  The newsman cocked an eyebrow, pausing for effect. Every listener, unless they were really dumb, knew he was about to drop a bomb.

  “He’s added another title to his resume. That of bail jumper. The forty-nine-year-old wealthy businessman was scheduled to appear in court late yesterday afternoon on murder charges, but failed to appear.”

  Josh jumped to his feet, not bothering to listen to the rest. He’d heard all he needed to hear. Jumped bail. Dollar figures flashed before his eyes. This had to be the bounty of a lifetime or damned close. This was the case he’d been looking for.

  He grabbed a bag of cinnamon drops out of the cabinet and ripped them open. What he wouldn’t give for a long draw off a cigarette right now. Instead, he popped the candy into his mouth.

  “You shouldn’t spend your money on me. I don’t need this much food,” Pearl said.

  If her mother ate, she might not be tempted to turn to the bottle. Cody bit her tongue. Not this time. “I have money. I like spending some of it occasionally.”

  “You should put it in the bank.”

  Just take the food. Let me do this, please. Can’t you see it’s my way of apologizing for the last time?

  She set the bags of food on the counter, but before she turned around, Pearl squeezed her arm. Cody closed her eyes. Ah, God, as much as she hated to admit it, she craved her mother’s touch.

  Pearl moved her hand away, taking the little bit of warmth with her. “Well, thanks. I appreciate it.”

  Drawing in a shaky breath, Cody turned. Her mother looked away, wringing her hands. Was it that hard to touch her only child?

  The truth was staggering as it dawned in on her. Why hadn’t she realized it before now?

  She looked like her father.

  But if Pearl had loved him, then why would she find it so hard to love a daughter who looked like him? Unless there’d been trouble in paradise. She only guessed.

  She opened her mouth to ask what the truth really was, but Pearl turned and went to the small living room. “Why don’t you dish us up some of that ice cream and we’ll catch the news.”

  Damn it, why wouldn’t she talk to her? Pearl was the only one with answers. All Cody’s searching had led to dead ends and trails that had turned cold long ago.

  It was obvious Pearl didn’t want to get too chummy. Maybe she should be thankful for what her mother was willing to give and be done with it, but Cody didn’t want to be just thankful.

  Coward.

  She almost laughed but knew the voice inside her head was right. Her relationship with her mother was tenuous at best. Cody was terrified of breaking the fragile bond they shared. What if her mother stopped loving her altogether? She sucked in a deep breath. There, she’d finally admitted it to herself. A little love was better than none at all.

  Just enjoy the moment, she told herself as she dished up a couple of bowls of chocolate fudge ice cream and carried them to the living room, giving one to her mother before sitting on the sofa. Her mother sat in the easy chair.

  So she wouldn’t have to sit next to her daughter?

  Mentally, she shook her head. Now she was being maudlin. Her mother had always liked the easy chair best.

  The news was on. She took a bite of ice cream and let her thoughts wander. Trouble was, they wandered straight to Josh. Jeez, out of the pot and right into the fire. Still, she couldn’t help wondering if he was with the blond right now. Were they about to go out for dinner? Her hand trembled. Or were they staying in?

  Don’t go there. Don’t feel.

  She’d learned to cut her emotions off when she was just a kid. Then Rodney had shown up. Lord, he’d taken the place of the father she never knew. He made her feel again.

  And look what it had gotten her.

  He’d left. The world continued on as if nothing had happened. No one cared that she’d been hurt. So she sucked it up, moved forward, but she swore nothing and no one would hurt her like that again.

  But they had. At least, the first couple of guys she’d dated had, but she wasn’t in love with them so she’d gotten over them quick enough and learned to guard her heart—until Josh came along.

  She took another bite of ice cream without really tasting it and could almost feel the protective shield sliding into place. Like an elevator door to her heart, it silently slid shut. You could only open it with the right key and she’d make certain she held tight to it this time.

  Pearl broke into her thoughts. “There’s that man who killed his partner.”

  “Hmm?” She glanced up. Adam Sinclair. She’d caught some of the story over the past few weeks. “Turn it up.”

  Pearl increased the volume.

  “…missed his court date. Along with a bounty on his head, the family of the man Adam Sinclair has been accused of killing is offering a reward for the capture…”

  Excitement skittered down her spine. This was who she was, what she was about. It might not be much, but it was all hers and no one could take that away.

  “I’ve got to go.” Cody stood, moving toward the kitchen and depositing her bowl in the sink.

  Pearl followed. “You’re not going after that man, are you? I mean, they think he murdered his partner.”

  Cody paused. “It’s what I do.” She waited for her mother to say something else. What, she wasn’t quite sure. Maybe beg her not to go? For a split second, she held her breath.

  “You’ll be careful?”

  She exhaled. “Yeah, I’ll be careful.”

  Pearl watched Cody go to the door, she watched her daughter open it, and she watched her leave. All the time she silently screamed at her not to go.

  She slumped into one of the kitchen chairs. “I love you. I love you so much it hurts,” she whispered.

  But Cody was gone. She couldn’t hear the words.

  “Why can’t I just tell her?” She spoke to the empty room. But what if Cody didn’t want to hear them? If she pushed the issue would her daughter stop coming around?

  Damn, she needed a drink. No, that was the last thing she needed. Her drinking was what had caused the rift between them, the one that got wider every year.

  She looked out the window, saw Cody leave the apartment building and get on her motorcycle.

  Her baby. No, that wasn’t right. Cody hadn’t been her baby in a very long time. Not since James left.

  “James.” She
spoke his name for the first time in years. It sounded strange to her ears.

  When he left, she’d begun to drink. It took away her pain and fear of being alone. As long as she didn’t venture too far away from her apartment, she was safe in the little world she’d created, never realizing it had become a prison.

  Her eyes narrowed. “I hope the bastard rots in hell when he dies.”

  A shiver swept over her as if talking aloud would unveil the secret she’d carried for so long. No. She shook her head and quickly came to her feet. “Cody will never find out her father lives across town. I won’t let him destroy her like he nearly did me. Nope, I won’t let that happen.” She shuffled toward the bedroom, undressed, and put on her pajamas. She was still trembling when she pulled the covers close around her. Cody couldn’t find out about him. She couldn’t.

  Turbo Manning turned off the TV, a wide smile on his face. Son-of-a-bitch. The bastard jumped bail. He tossed the remote on the couch and rubbed his hands together. This was the brass ring. The bounty of all bounties. Everyone would be after Adam Sinclair. The competition would be unbelievable.

  He laughed. God, he loved it. This would bring him the notoriety he craved. He’d be the best of the best.

  “Hey, baby.” Candy snuggled up close to him, her voluptuous body rubbing against his. “I thought you wanted to fuck, not watch the boob tube. Ain’t nothin’ on but the news anyway.”

  “Back off. I’m trying to think.”

  She sat down, slowly crossing her legs in a fair imitation of Sharon Stone, and Candy wasn’t wearing any panties. His dick went hard in less time than it took to blink. Man, she was one hot lady. Not as young as he’d like, but sometimes experience could make up for a few years wear and tear.

  Even though the television was off, it drew his attention. There wasn’t a whole hell of a lot he could do until morning. He looked once more at Candy. She leaned forward, her breasts practically spilling from her blouse. God, she had a pair of the sweetest tits he’d ever seen on a woman.

  When she ran her tongue across her lips, he knew he wouldn’t be hunting anyone tonight.

  He undid his pants as he walked toward her, reaching inside and pulling his dick out. He groaned when she took him into her mouth. Damn, she was so fucking good at giving head. He looked down, watching her mouth eagerly move over him, licking, kissing, and sucking him back inside.

  She looked up and smiled, and for just a second he imagined it was Cody’s face looking up at him. He frowned. “Suck it, bitch, suck it.”

  Someday he’d have the real thing and wouldn’t have to settle for a substitute. Once she had a taste of him, nothing else would be good enough for her.

  That is, once she realized he was the best.

  Chapter 10

  Cody stepped out of the powder blue Pontiac she rarely used and walked to the door carrying a box of what she hoped appeared to be business documents.

  You are a business associate of the deceased who did in-home secretarial work, she kept repeating as she got into character. She could do this even though she was a two-finger typist at best and her bills were usually shoved into a drawer until the very last day. She loathed paperwork of any kind.

  She could only hope the plain tweed skirt and conservative jacket would be convincing. For added measure, she’d put on a pair of heavy, black-rimmed, clear-lens glasses.

  Shifting the box and her purse to her hip, she rang the doorbell. A few seconds later, she heard someone approaching. Should she start crying? No, that might be pouring it on a little thick. A sad look should do it.

  The door opened. “Yes?”

  Mid-fifties, white shirt, and dark brown slacks. Mark Danford, the cousin to Adam Sinclair’s now deceased partner, looked quite unassuming. In fact, all he needed was a pen protector in his pocket to pull his nerdy look together.

  She’d chosen the perfect disguise—from one nerd to another.

  “I’m so sorry to intrude during your time of grief, but I thought you might need these papers. They’re not really important, but Mr. Gray paid me in advance so I wanted to return them.

  He gave her an assessing look as he took the box.

  Oh, no, this wasn’t working out like she’d planned. Without a doubt, she knew he was about to dismiss her. Maybe what she’d chosen wasn’t right. Nerds apparently weren’t attracted to nerds.

  “Well, thank you for returning them. Not everyone is quite this honest. I’m sure my cousin appreciated your ethics.” He spoke in a nasal pitch that wouldn’t take long to become irritating, and started to shut the door.

  “He was such a good man.” She sniffed—loudly. “Oh my, I do believe I feel a little faint. Could I trouble you for a glass of water?”

  She removed her glasses and lightly patted her face.

  It wasn’t working. He looked at her as if she’d grown another eyeball. Time to introduce him to her femme fatale. She really hated playing this role. She’d rather eat nails than be a simpering female, but if that’s what it took, then she’d do it.

  “Suddenly, I just feel incredibly warm.” She slipped off her jacket and undid the top two buttons of her blouse. Always smart to be prepared. The white blouse was simple, but sexy. It showed the lacy cups of her bra in great detail.

  Come on, man, do I have to strip or what? Not that she would ever go that far.

  Oh, hell, now he was blushing.

  As if he suddenly remembered she felt faint, he opened the door wider. “Yes, of course, come inside.”

  Once she stepped into the foyer, he set the box on a side table and closed the door.

  Her gaze quickly scanned the entrance hall. She stopped herself just short of whistling. Nice digs. Nothing fancy, seeing as the deceased cousin was raking in a sizable income from all accounts, but damned decent.

  “The study is in there.” He pointed to a room just off the entrance. “Please, have a seat and I’ll get you something cool to drink.”

  For a second, she’d forgotten about feeling faint. “Oh, thank you ever so much.” She fluttered her hands close to the vee of her blouse. He didn’t disappoint her when his gaze followed.

  He was human. For a while, she’d begun to wonder.

  “Yes, okay, I’ll be right back.” He licked his lips before turning away and hurrying out of the room.

  A piece of cake. She’d have all the information she needed in less than five minutes.

  She strolled into the study, sitting in the chair across from the desk, and hurriedly arranged herself into the perfect, sexy pose.

  No, this wouldn’t do. Her skirt demurely covered her knees. She’d already figured this one out. He might not be the type to touch, but he didn’t mind looking.

  She wiggled her bottom into a different position and inched up the material of her skirt until a little bit of thigh showed, then crossed her legs. There, much better.

  “Why don’t you just take it off? I bet he’d tell you anything you want to know then,” Josh said from behind her.

  Her purse clunked to the floor as she jumped to her feet, whirling around to face him.

  It was him! Standing by the window as pretty as you please and looking as sexy as ever. He stepped out of the shadows and into the light.

  “What are you doing here?” she hissed, her heart still pounding inside her chest. Her racing pulse didn’t stop her gaze from traveling over him. He wore jeans and a light blue shirt but had dressed the look up a notch with a navy blazer. Looking at him didn’t help to slow her pulse.

  Damn it, she should have been furious now more than ever, not lusting after him. What was he doing spying on her? “Why are you here?” she repeated.

  He straightened and sauntered forward. “I would imagine I’m doing the same as you—going after the big fish that got away.”

  She should’ve known. Of course, he wouldn’t let a chance like this slip away. What bounty hunter would? Most recovery agents had a competitive streak a mile wide. Always trying to top each other. This case would draw
them from far and wide.

  She just didn’t want to do it at the same time as Josh. Especially since he’d had that blond bimbo practically slobbering all over him.

  “Well, go away,” she whispered as she sat in the chair once again and tried to pull herself together.

  “Why?”

  Infuriating man.

  “Because I don’t want you here.” She tugged her skirt back in place when his gaze slid lower—and lingered. A hot flush settled over her skin.

  “You didn’t return my calls.”

  “How observant.” Eventually, she’d even unplugged her answering machine. His recorded voice on her machine had sensuously stalked her every time he’d called. He probably knew exactly what he was doing to her mind—and body.

  Josh was a player—experienced in how to take a woman to the edge of reason. She quickly swallowed past the lump in her throat and squared her shoulders.

  “If you’re still angry about the other day when you returned my wallet, then…”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” she snorted. The last thing she wanted was pity. “I gave you a place to stay because you saved my ass when Leonard’s friend pulled a gun on me, then attempted to again when that jerk from the bar pulled me into his lap. I owed you. I returned your wallet. Don’t make any more out of it because it just isn’t there.”

  “And the making love?”

  She arched an eyebrow. “You’re not the first man I’ve had sex with. We had a little fun and released some pent-up emotions. There was nothing more to it than that.”

  He leaned against the desk. Much too close for comfort. The other woman was temporarily forgotten as hot and cold tingles ran up and down her arms. She took a deep, cleansing breath and inhaled the musky scent of his aftershave and something else—cinnamon. She ached to stand, to close the distance between them just so she could feel his lips against hers.

  “She was a girl I took to dinner, then she invited me up to her apartment. I was exhausted, but she said she was afraid to go in alone. There’d been burglaries in the area. Nothing happened. I ended up falling asleep on her sofa.”