by Kayn, Debra
"Certainly." The woman moved over to the computer. "Kinsley?"
"Yes." He gazed around the lobby. A different employee at the desk a couple of weeks ago told him she couldn’t find a Nova Kinsley checked in at the Inn. He'd forgotten to ask Nova if she used a different name to register her room. Maybe the lady this morning would have better luck.
"I'm sorry. Maybe I'm not spelling it right. K-i-n-s-l-e-y?"
He nodded. "Right. Her first name is Nova, like the car."
"No, I'm not finding any Nova Kinsley checked into the Federal Inn." The woman smiled. "Could she be staying at the Ryan Hotel or the bed and breakfast down the road?"
"No." He fingered the strap on Nova's purse. "She's definitely staying here."
Two times he'd come here looking for Nova and each time, they had no record. She had to be checked in under her boss's name.
"She's about this tall." He held his hand up to his chin. "Long blonde hair. Beautiful. She's here on a work vacation, so maybe she checked in under her boss's name."
"What would his or her name be?" asked the woman.
He shook his head. "I don't know."
"Well..." The woman pursed her lips, looked at the screen of her computer again, and clicked her tongue. "No, I'm sorry. We only have seven of our rooms occupied at the moment. Of course, our daytime receptionist might know the visitors better by description. Most of them are sleeping when I'm working."
"Were you working at the counter about two hours ago?" he asked.
"Yes."
He hesitated. Nova had to carry identification in her purse. If the woman could see a picture of Nova, she'd remember her walking through the lobby after he'd brought her to the inn.
Unzipping the purse, he gritted his teeth. His mom and sister taught him never to look inside a woman's bag, but Nova could need whatever she kept in her purse today, and he'd be at work and unable to run it back to her.
He found Nova's wallet, opened the snap, and showed her license to the woman. "Here's a picture of her."
The inn worker studied the picture. "No, I definitely would remember her. She's very pretty and young. Our guests that are here this week are attending the Gyro Festival and all appear to be retired individuals. I would check the hotel. She's probably there."
He put Nova's wallet back in her purse, wrapped the strap around the bag, and had no choice but to leave. "Thank you."
Bothered by the lack of information he'd received, he tossed the purse back in his car and headed to work. He'd dropped Nova off at the Inn three different times. Even without a name, how could they not recognize her? She left late, came back early, and yet the women working at the desk hadn't seen her.
He pulled into his parking spot behind the auto parts store wondering why Nick's truck was parked on the street out front. Unlocking the door, he walked between the racks of parts and out to the front of the store to open the door for business.
Nick hopped out of his truck. "You're late."
"Yeah, rough start to the day." Emmett held the door open. "I figured you'd be sleeping all morning before you had to go to work."
Nick worked an overlapping schedule at the silver mine. Not quite full-time, because he couldn’t get forty hour weeks. He topped out around thirty which disqualified him for any benefits, except for medical coverage while working.
"Woke up and figured I'd come to town and grab a few things for the truck." Nick sat down on one of the bar stools in front of the counter. "I need a new radiator cap, a C-clamp, and another gallon of antifreeze."
Emmett walked over to the rack. "Is it still running hot?"
"Yeah. It doesn't like to climb the mountain pass to the mine. I changed the thermostat out, so I'm hoping it's a faulty cap, and that'll fix the problem. I'm getting fucking tired of hauling water in the back." Nick swiveled on the stool. "Are you working alone today?"
"Yep, Steller is down to working three days a week now and is close to finally deciding he wants to retire." Emmett returned to the counter and rang up his order. "Has Nova ever said anything about the Federal Inn?"
Nick frowned. "Only that she's staying there."
He handed Nick his change. "She's not."
"What are you talking about?"
Emmett rubbed his hands over his face, knocking his Snap-On cap crooked on his head. "Nova's not staying at the Federal Inn. She left her purse in my car this morning. I tried to take it back to her before work and found out they have no reservation for anyone under that name staying there, so I showed the employee Nova's driver's license and the lady said the only people staying at the inn were old people here for the festival this weekend."
Nick planted his elbows on the counter. "But, she's here, in Federal. That doesn't make sense."
"A lot of things don't make sense," he muttered.
Nick studied him. He sat down on the stool behind the cash register. He'd given Nova the benefit of the doubt in hopes she'd come around to opening up to him. The more he made progress with her, something new popped up and had him questioning how much Nova was telling him.
"I know you guys are getting close. You see more of her than Shayla and me lately." Nick paused. "Have you asked her?"
"About where she's staying?" Emmett dug the sole of his boot in the rung of the stool. "Yeah, and I've dropped her off at the inn a few times. I've picked her up twice, and she always waited under the viaduct for me, clear across town. I never questioned why she waited for me there, because the fact that she was coming to spend time with me was more important. It's always late at night, too. I get that she's also working while on her vacation, and I'm busy working during the day, but you'd think that she'd come over and hang with Shayla during daylight hours at least."
Nick leaned to the side, removed his phone from his pocket, and tapped at the screen. "Hang on."
Bud McConnell walked through the front door. Emmett glanced at Nick one more time and walked around the corner, lifting his chin in greeting.
"What can I help you find today, Bud?" he said.
Bud shuffled his feet down the center aisle. A few days over eighty years old, Bud drove an old, baby-blue Continental in top shape from the early seventies. "Did you get the piece in for my exhaust?"
Emmett picked up a bottle of transmission fluid, knowing Bud would need his weekly fill-up. "Yep, let me grab it out of the back."
"Ah, you're a good man, Mr. Parker. Go ahead and take it out to the trunk and I'll meet you back at the counter." Bud shuffled away.
Emmett went in the back of the store, passing Nick—who sat texting on his phone, grabbed the part, and walked back through the store and out the door. He put the two items in the Continental and went back inside.
Once he rang Bud up at the cash register and the front door shut and he was alone with Nick, he said, "What's going on?"
"Shayla." Nick held up the phone. "Here, you can read it."
Nick: Where's Nova staying?
Shayla: Federal Inn. Why?
Nick: Emmett went looking for her. She's not staying there.
Shayla: Tell him to wait until she comes over tonight. He shouldn't bother her when she's working.
Nick: Where is she at if she's not at the inn?
Shayla: That's her business to tell you.
Nick: What's going on?
Shayla: I'll call Nova. Leave her alone for now. She'll talk to Emmett tonight.
Nick: Is she in trouble?
Shayla: NO! Please. Wait until tonight, and tell Emmett to wait.
Emmett set the phone on the counter in front of Nick and looked up at his friend. "What the fuck does that mean?"
"Hell if I know." Nick grabbed his cell and shoved it in his back pocket. "Looks like we'll have to wait until tonight. If I hear differently, I'll give you a call."
"Thanks, man," he muttered, staying at the counter.
Nova opened up to him every single time she came to visit. Last night left him sated, and yet hungry for more. It was rare to find a woman who took things slow, waited for s
ex until the timing was right, and had him feeling pretty fucking good. He curled his fingers and thumped the counter with his fist. A dream girl.
He'd spent too many years chasing tail and finding himself disappointed. Nothing he received back from all the women he'd hooked up with made him any different than their previous boyfriend or their next boyfriend.
He wanted substance.
He wanted real.
He wanted sex with a woman who'd put everything into the relationship and settle down with him. Disappointed over the turn of events, he kicked the stool and watched it crash into the car magazine rack. He'd let himself fall in love with a woman intent on playing games.
Chapter Twenty Five
The grumblings from the other ladies of Red Light came through the locked door. Nova dove onto the floor and peered under the bed for her purse. Her five minutes of frantic searching the room turned into an outright panic attack.
Pounding on the door brought her head up. "I'm coming!"
She pushed off the floor and spun in place, searching every surface of furniture.
She carried her purse everywhere.
Inside the bag, she had her driver's license, her contact numbers in case someone murdered her, her medical records, and pictures of her mom, her aunt, and her cousins. She never carried cash, and instead lugged her past with her wherever she went.
"Come on, Nova, or we'll have Marci use the master key," yelled Tawny.
Nova wiped her forehead with her forearm and walked to the door, trying to catch her breath. She had to have left her purse in Emmett's car. That was the last place she remembered having it.
She opened the door. "I'm ready."
"Finally," mumbled Kathryn, pulling Nova out of the room and nudging her in front of her. "If we're late, we have less time to enjoy our day off."
She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Was there anything else in her purse that would even hint at her being a prostitute? What if Emmett decided to snoop?
If it was her, and Emmett left his wallet in her car, she'd look. But, maybe guys were different. Maybe she was different because she'd want to know every detail about Emmett.
"Hurry up, Nova." Tawny placed her hand on her back and guided her out the back door and into the alley. "What is with you this morning?"
"Tired." She exhaled slowly out her mouth.
Her heart raced with anxiety. Never one to panic, she'd seen the signs in other ladies over the years. She reached up and pressed her palm to her forehead. Clammy skin, fast heartbeat, hard to breathe, loss of concentration. Dr. Brandof was going to love seeing her today.
Everything would be okay. She had to believe that.
When she got back to her room, she'd get her phone, and call Emmett. That's all. There was no reason to panic.
She stumbled on the curb crossing the road. A groan escaped. The more she tried to convince herself there was nothing inside her purse that held answers to all her secrets, she freaked more.
Ever since she'd come to Federal, she'd kept everything under control. All the stories, all the fabricated excuses, all the misinformation. Shayla backed her up. Nick took her reasons and welcomed her back without any deep questions. He accepted her the way he always had as her older cousin. Interested, protective, and distant.
Shayla, God—she'd be lost without Shayla. Her cousin provided her with a means to get from Red Light to Bitterroot Trailer Park.
Marci opened the door of Dr. Brandof's office. Nova walked inside and promptly sat down. Putting her head between her knees probably wasn't a good idea in front of the others without causing alarm, so she closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing.
"Nova?"
She opened her eyes to the nurse motioning her to the back room. If she didn't pass out on the walk down the hallway, the doctor would take one look at her and hook her up to an electrocardiogram that would detect a heart attack. She was sure she was having one.
"Go ahead and hop up on the table." The nurse waited until Nova sat and wrapped her upper arm with a blood pressure cuff. "Just relax."
Relax? She needed to get out of here.
The pressure on her arm increased to a tear-inducing level, and still the nurse pumped the inflation bulb in her hand making it tighter. Nova held her breath, and when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, the pressure on her bicep eased, and she gasped for air.
"It's a little high this morning. Are you nervous?" asked the nurse. "You seem a little on edge."
"God, yes. I don't know why, but I am." She had to shut up. "I didn't sleep well and then I hate coming to the doctor. Not that I hate Dr. Brandof, he seems nice and all. I think...well, I think I'm freaking out, but I'll be okay. I will be okay, right? My chest is pounding. No, I'm sure I'm fine or I will be once I can get out of here."
The nurse's face softened. "The bottom number isn't bad. Just the top number is high, which usually shows us how much pain, stress, or fear the patient is experiencing at the moment. It happens to a lot of patients when they walk in this room. The doctor calls it white-coat syndrome. You'll be fine, and Dr. Brandof is nice. Take some deep breaths through your nose and let it out your mouth. You'll feel calmer."
Breathing wasn't easy. She needed an oxygen mask and a Xanax. Half the ladies in the Network swore by the drug.
"Go ahead and get undressed. When you've got the gown on open the door a crack to let the doctor know you're ready." The nurse backed out of the room, shutting the door.
She stripped off her clothes. The air hit her overheated skin. She paced the room naked, feeling her body relax. Her shoulders straightened, and she planted her hands on her hips. Her next breath came easier naked, and her lungs expanded. The thrumming in her head slowed to a slight throb. In her element with her clothes off, she focused on the job ahead of her. She spread her legs numerous times a day, five days out of the week. Nobody had a right to judge her.
Not the men who paid for sex.
Not Dr. Brandof, who kept her occupation secret from the town.
Not Emmett, who at this moment could be snooping in her purse and hating her guts.
She slipped on the gown and opened the door. Climbing onto the table, she covered her legs and smoothed the gown down the front of her. Then, she waited.
Life ran on a schedule. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Men every fifteen or twenty minutes from four o'clock to eight o'clock. Once a week doctor appointments. Curfews. Rules. Payday.
Emmett, too, ran on a schedule. He worked. He came home. He spent time with her.
He'd realize her motive and why she'd signed on with the Network, and if he failed to understand, she'd show him how much he meant to her.
A knock on the door startled her. She jerked her head up at Dr. Brandof walking into the room.
"I hear you're nervous about the visit." Dr. Brandof wheeled the chrome tray next to the bed and extended the table. "You've been coming here every week for almost three months. Why is today different?"
She laid down on the table, extended her legs until the heels of her feet settled in the sock-covered stirrups. Then she lied. "I always get nervous at the end of the quarter. I never know where I'm going next. It could be a place that makes me miserable or the women I have to work with could be mean and nasty. I enjoyed my stay at Red Light. I'm not sure I want to leave."
"I've been seeing women come from the bordello for years, and haven't met one who couldn't wait to leave. Though I can understand your worries. Tiff runs Red Light with the utmost respect for everyone involved, including me." He slipped the speculum into her vagina.
Nova stared up at the ceiling. "Tiff is wonderful."
"I've known her since she was a little girl. Did you know that?" Dr. Brandof reached for the stick with the giant ball of cotton at the end.
"No, I didn't." She wondered how Tiff handled growing up in the town where she now ran an illegal bordello. No wonder she had the sheriff looking out for the business. They probably also knew each other fore
ver.
The almost numb pressure circling her cervix signaled the end of the exam. She put her legs down and scrunched her stomach until she sat upright on the table.
"I'll have the nurse come in and take a vial of blood from you, and then you're done for another week." Dr. Brandof removed his latex gloves and put his bare hand on her gown covered shoulder. "That wasn't too bad, right?"
"Not at all." She smiled. "Thank you."
"You're very welcome." He backed to the door. "I'll see you next week."
Her panic over, she let the nurse draw her blood and got dressed. Marci met her in the waiting room and informed her she could wait for the others or return to the building with one of the biker bodyguards. She chose the bodyguard.
Then she outwalked the guard all the way back to the Sterling Building. She'd have the upstairs to herself if she hurried. Tiff always left them alone after the doctor's visit and the other ladies weren't back yet.
She shut herself in her room and turned on her phone. One call would fix her worries and let her relax. Her purse had to be in Emmett's car. He probably hadn't even found it yet, and she'd pick it up tonight. She exhaled and calmed.
She couldn't wait for tonight. Her relationship with Emmett had grown from irritation to fascination to infatuation. She pressed the phone to her chest. Emmett was much more than anything in her life. She'd fallen in love with him.
He made coming to Federal a dream of a lifetime. Her days went faster knowing he was just as excited to see her at the end of the day. Her mood was unstoppable. He had her wanting so much more with him.
Days.
Nights.
Sex.
Touching.
Lots of touching.
She pulled up her call log and hit return call on his name. Everything would be okay. Emmett was Emmett. He loved simple things and probably would enjoy her calling during the day, something she had only done with him a few times before.
"Yeah?" His voice came over the phone low and deep.
"Hey, you." She smiled to the room. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting your work, but I think I left my purse in the backseat of your car."
"Yeah, I saw it this morning," he said.
