Читать книгу Snowbound Security - Beverly Long - Страница 12

Chapter 2

When Rico woke up, he could smell coffee. He took an appreciative sniff. Didn’t drink the stuff, never had. But thought it smelled pretty damn good.

He glanced at his watch. Just after seven. Which was late for him. But he’d been sleeping badly these last few weeks. He’d roll over without thinking and boom, there it was: the weakness, the tenderness, all telling him that the bone wasn’t quite healed.

But it was better than he’d let on last night. Because he’d been fairly confident that the woman would have demanded he leave had he not appeared to be significantly impaired.

It had taken her just one trip to move a few items out of the larger bedroom and into the smaller one. Then she’d closed her door.

He’d made two trips to his vehicle. The first time, he’d moved his SUV into the driveway, parking it right next to her Mustang. Lucky had tumbled out of the car, so damn excited to finally be there. He loved his time at the cabin.

Rico had let him sniff around and do the things dogs do outside while he unloaded. Finally, he had his crutches, his duffel bag and all the groceries inside. But before calling Lucky in, he took a second to enter her license plate into his phone.

Back inside, he’d made sure the door was locked. Lucky had immediately made a path to the doorway of the second bedroom and stood at the door, softly whining. “I’ll introduce you in the morning,” Rico had whispered. “Settle down.”

The dog had stopped whining and moved to the living room where he plopped down on one of the leather couches. Rico had quietly put away the perishables into the refrigerator. There’d been nothing in there but a few apples and oranges. The woman had said she’d arrived yesterday. He had wondered what she’d planned to eat if she stayed awhile. He’d left his remaining groceries on the counter, not wanting to open and shut cupboards and drawers.

When he got into the bedroom, he saw a pile of sheets in the corner. Knew that his cleaning crew would never have left them there and was confident that she’d stripped the sheets off the king-sized bed and put on a clean set from the tote. Interesting. Had no qualms about being in the cabin without permission, but didn’t want him to sleep on used sheets.

He probably wouldn’t have minded. He’d caught a whiff of her scent as she’d come in the door behind him and it had been sharply sexy.

Last night he’d examined both the front and back doors of the cabin and all the windows. Hadn’t seen anything that led him to believe that she’d broken in. If she hadn’t forced her way in, then she’d had the entry code for the door. Only a couple ways she could have gotten that.

He supposed it was time to figure out the mystery. And Lucky was likely more than ready to go outside.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, moved his ankle gently to loosen it up and stood. He’d slept in his clothes because...well, just because he’d wanted to be prepared for anything. It was the same reason his gun had been under his pillow. Now he slipped said gun into the waistband of his jeans and made sure his shirt was covering it.

She seemed normal enough, but there were a bunch of crazies in the world and he wasn’t going to be stupid about sharing his cabin with a stranger. She’d been vocal about her intent to shoot first and ask questions later. He’d been more reticent, but that didn’t mean he was a trusting fool.

He grabbed the crutches that he’d left leaning against the headboard. He was really curious to see what her story was this morning. Would she suddenly remember that she had a commitment somewhere else and hustle to get on the road? Would she continue to pretend that she had every right to be in the cabin, that he was the one who’d made the mistake?

And who had been in the bedroom? He suspected a child, given the car seat in the back of the Mustang.

A rifle-toting woman traveling alone with a child. Interesting. Staying someplace she had no right to be. Even more interesting.

He opened his door at almost exactly the same time the second bedroom door opened. Out walked a beautiful child, her short brown hair tucked behind her ears, wearing lion pajamas. She looked up at him, smiled and said, “Hello.”

“Hello, Lion,” he said.

She patted her belly, where the lion’s face was prominent. “I’m not really a lion.”

“That’s good. I think I might be afraid of lions.”

“Hey, sweetie,” the woman said, coming fast behind the child. She scooped her up and held her close to her body.

“Pancakes, today?” the child asked.

The woman shook her head. “Soon.” She looked at Rico over the child’s shoulder. “Morning,” she mumbled.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully. “Cute kid.” He barely got that out before Lucky came skidding around the corner. Barking. So damn excited that there was company.

The kid squealed and the woman lifted her higher.

“Stay down,” he said to Lucky. “He won’t bite,” he said to the woman.

“A dog,” the child said, voice full of awe. “We have a dog?”

“He’s not our dog,” the woman said.

“What’s his name?” the child asked.

“Lucky,” Rico said. “Because he was lucky I kept him after he chewed up two pairs of really nice shoes.”

“Shoes,” the kid echoed, all big-eyed.

And part of a couch, he added silently, but didn’t see a need to mention that. Lucky was a longhaired, midsized mutt who had been left to die near Rico’s condo building. He’d taken him in about two years ago, regretted it every day for the first three months and now couldn’t imagine life without him.

The woman and child walked down the short hallway and into the living area. She put the little girl on the couch and handed her a laptop computer. “You can watch a little of your movie while I get breakfast ready.”

Rico opened the door for Lucky. When he turned back around, he saw that she was pouring a cup of coffee that she’d either started earlier or had left on a timer the night before. She took a sip, then set it down. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out an orange. Efficiently peeled it, separated it into pieces and put it on a paper towel. Then she put a piece of toast into the toaster and, when it popped, spread peanut butter on it. Added it to the paper towel, which she carried over to the child, along with a glass of water in a plastic cup with a lid and a straw.

She was basically acting as if he wasn’t there.

Well, two could play that game. He found his teakettle in the cupboard, filled it with water and set it on the stove to heat. Then he circled the interior of the cabin, pulling up the shades on all the windows. Immediately, the cabin was flooded with natural light. “Looks like a nice day,” he said conversationally.

“Yes,” she said. She topped off her cup of coffee and he saw that her hand was shaking slightly. It made him think that she wasn’t nearly as calm as she was pretending to be. She wore the same clothes that she’d had on last night and he wondered if she, too, had slept in her clothes. Prepared. And by the way she’d sprang after the child this morning, he figured it was for anything that was necessary to protect the little girl.

There was only a double bed in the smaller bedroom, which meant that she’d either snuggled close to the child or slept on the floor. He had a crazy suspicion it had been the latter, with her body squarely in front of the door to prevent it from being opened and surprising her.

Mother bears always fascinated him.

“I...uh...didn’t mention...” she waved in the direction of the couch “...last night.”

He shrugged. “The bed in the room you gave up is a king. The two of you should have slept there.”

“We were fine,” she said, dismissing his comment.

“Crazy situation we got here, but I know I’ve got the rental company information in my contacts so that we can get this straightened out.” He looked at his watch. “They probably open at nine.”

She looked around. “It’s a really nice place.”

She didn’t sound that happy about it. Ten years ago, Rico had looked for months for just the right property. And when he’d seen this place, he’d fallen for it. The exterior logs had been solid and didn’t require much. He’d gutted the insides, replacing everything, and adding a laundry room off the kitchen and a second bath off the master bedroom. Now, it fit his needs almost perfectly. It was a good size for him and enough room that when his parents or his sister’s family visited, it was big enough.

He picked up his phone. “Cell service seems to suck. Guess it’s good that the place comes with a landline,” he added, looking at the phone on the wall.

“I think we’re going to run to the grocery store this morning.”

So that was how it was going to go. “Jennie’s is about fifteen minutes east. You can get the basics there. Otherwise, you’re looking at forty-five minutes down the mountain the other direction.”

“Jennie’s will be fine,” she said. “Maybe we’ll do a little sightseeing at the same time.”

Which was code for the trip might take a while. Plenty of time to get far away before he knew for sure that they weren’t coming back.

“How old is your little girl?”

She looked over her shoulder, as if to confirm that the child was engrossed in whatever was on the computer. “Boy,” she correctly softly.

“Sorry,” he said. He evidently had some things to learn about kids. He had a nephew and a niece and he’d always been able to tell the difference. “He’s cute,” he said.

“Thanks.”

His sister had never stopped talking about her kids when they were young. He’d known what they were doing, new words they were learning and sometimes even their bowel habits. This woman evidently wasn’t chatty.

She put her coffee cup in the sink. “Finish up,” she said to the child. “We need to go to the store.”

“I want to stay here,” the kid said, not looking up from the screen. “Please, Laura.”

Laura. Last night she’d asked him his name. He’d offered up his first. She hadn’t drilled for more, likely because she hadn’t been willing to reciprocate. He hadn’t pushed for the information, had sensed that she might guard her name the same way she was willing to guard the door of her bedroom—with a rifle.

“Sorry,” Laura said. She walked over to the couch and picked up the computer.

“Hey,” was the immediate protest.

“Come with me. You can watch it in the bedroom while we get ready for the store.”

They left Rico standing in his kitchen, mulling the situation over a cup of green tea, whole grain cereal and organic blueberries.

And ten minutes later, they came out of the bedroom, both with backpacks that looked pretty full. He suspected they contained everything that they’d arrived with.

The woman had not changed her clothes. The child was dressed in a plain gray T-shirt, blue jeans, and wore a baseball cap.

“So I’ll make a call once the office opens and should have some info for you by the time you get back,” he said. “I’m headed for the shower now.” He picked up his crutches.

“How’s the ankle?” she asked.

“A little swollen,” he admitted.

“Keep it elevated and put cold on it—twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off. Ibuprofen might help, too.”

“Are you a doctor, a nurse?”

Panic flashed in her eyes. “No, nothing like that.” She picked up the child. “Well, see you later.”

Right. “Good luck,” he said. “At the grocery store,” he added.

She didn’t answer. The door slammed behind her and she and the child made their way to the Mustang. He watched them get to the end of the lane and turn left.

And was still standing at the window ten minutes later when he saw the Mustang pass by the end of his lane again, this time going the opposite direction. Away from Jennie’s. Had she decided to go down the mountain, to the bigger store?

Maybe. But he didn’t think so.

Laura was running. And unless he was crazy, she was trying to pass a little girl off as a little boy.

Had she stolen the child? He didn’t think she was a stranger to the child who had given no indication that she didn’t want to be with Laura or that she was frightened of her.

Laura didn’t have to be a stranger to have wrongfully taken the child. She could be a noncustodial parent. But would the child call her by her first name and not Mama?

The woman was out of his hair. He should let it go. But he knew there was no way.

He called Lucky back in, grabbed his keys and his crutches and they were out the door in less than a minute.

* * *

She hated that they’d had to leave the cabin. But Rico was going to make his call and it was going to be painfully obvious that she didn’t have a right to be there. She thought about calling Melissa and warning her that her patient might be getting a call from the rental company wondering if she’d happened to give out the code to the door. But she discarded the idea. If the elderly woman got called, she likely wouldn’t even answer the phone since she wasn’t feeling well. If she did, she’d tell them that she didn’t know what they were talking about and that would be that.

The nearest town was Moreville. She had enough cash that she could get a hotel room for a couple days until she figured out a better long-term solution. Hannah was chattering to her doll in the back, oblivious that they were once again on the run.

She wondered what Rico’s story was. No wedding ring. She’d noticed that when he was making his tea. It surprised her because he was very handsome with his dark hair, olive skin and very dark eyes. The image of him, only in swim trunks, holding on to a ski line, was very appealing.

How long would he wait before coming to the conclusion that she wasn’t coming back? To knowing that it hadn’t been an honest mistake but that she’d been a mere squatter who’d had the bad luck to get caught?

How many lies was she going to have to tell? How many people was she going to have to deceive?

What would she stoop to?

She glanced in her rearview mirror. Hannah caught her eye and smiled.

There was her answer. She would bend, stoop, even crawl. Go as low as she needed to. For Hannah.

She drove for an hour before she got to the outskirts of the town. It took another ten minutes to find a hotel. It was two stories with the rooms all having exterior doors.

She parked in front of the office and shut off the car. She opened her purse and pulled cash out. Then tossed her purse onto the floor and covered it up with a Colorado map. “We have to go inside here,” she said to Hannah.

“Can I take Ja-Ja?”

“No, sorry.” While it should not, a little boy with a doll might garner attention they didn’t need. “Pretend that she’s sleeping.”

“Okay.” Hannah kissed Ja-Ja’s forehead and laid her down on the seat.

It made Laura’s eyes fill with tears. Hannah was such a sweet child. She unbuckled her seat belt, got out, did the same for Hannah. Tugged at the little girl’s baseball cap to make sure it would stay on.

A bell jingled when she opened the door. A woman was behind the counter, reading a newspaper. Her face was lined and she was very thin. She stood and set aside the paper. “Morning.”

“Good morning,” Laura said. There was an old couch with two chairs. She gave Hannah’s shoulder a gentle push toward the furniture. “You can sit over there while I do this. Here’s a pen and paper.” Hannah loved to draw and, most of the time, tuned everything else out while she was doing so.

Laura waited until she got up on the couch before turning back to the woman. “I’d like to rent a room.”

“How many nights.”

“Three,” she said. She had to have a plan by then.

“How many people?”

“Just the two of us,” Laura said, waving in Hannah’s direction.

The woman nodded and started tapping keys on what appeared to be an ancient computer. “License and credit card?”

Laura smiled. “I’ve had the worst luck,” she said. “My purse was stolen. I’d be happy to pay in cash in advance.”

The woman studied her. “We need the credit card in case there are damages to the room.”

“How about I give you an extra hundred to cover that? When I leave, you can give it back once you’ve checked the room.”

The woman sighed, glanced over at Hannah. Looked back at Laura. “That’ll do,” she said. She gave Laura a plastic card. “Upstairs. Room 204.”

“Thank you,” Laura said. She walked over to Hannah. “Time to go. You can finish these upstairs.” She gathered the paper and pen.

Was almost out the door when the woman said, “O’Grady’s on the corner serves up a nice breakfast and lunch for a reasonable price. And Pastor Rome, he’s got the church a block down on the right, has been known to be helpful to folks, too. Plus there’s some swings and a slide on the playground next door to the church.”

Laura swallowed hard. “Again, thank you.” She grabbed Hannah’s hand and pulled her out the door.

“I want to see the playground.”

“Maybe later. Let’s get Ja-Ja and your clothes and see our room.”

“I liked the room we had. Why did we have to leave?”

“We just had to,” Laura said. “Come on.”

“I liked Lucky,” Hannah said, obviously not willing to let it go.

“Yeah. Nice dog. But you’ll meet other nice dogs.”

“I will?”

“Of course.” Wasn’t that what people said when one thing ended and you were waiting for the next thing to begin? It certainly had been when she and Will had split up. You’ll meet another guy. That’s what her friends had said. Her hairdresser. Her landlord who got used to seeing Will around.

Had that happened last night? Had she met a nice guy last night? Had it been an error to run from him this morning? Could she have told him the truth?

No. Because the risk of others judging her actions too harshly was too big. So it didn’t matter how nice he might be. She was on her own. For the foreseeable future.

She got their things out of the car, stuffing her purse into her already-full backpack at the last minute so the woman in the office wouldn’t see it if she happened to be watching them. They got to the concrete exterior stairs and Hannah reached up and put her hand in Laura’s. The little girl’s skin was soft and warm.

No, not alone. She had Hannah. Blood of her blood.

It was more than enough.

She inserted the key card into the door and when the light flicked green, she turned the handle. And her heart sank. It wasn’t horrible, but compared to the beautiful sunny cabin that they’d left behind, the dark room, with its dark green and purple carpet and its brown bedspread and matching curtains, was like a tomb.

Hannah spied the television. “Can I watch?” she asked.

Laura nodded, grateful for the respite. “Sure. For a little while.” She turned it on, found an appropriate show and got Hannah settled on the bed, with her arm around her doll. She made sure the bolt lock on the door was engaged and the chain hooked.

Then she went into the bathroom, shut the door, turned on the faucet in the sink and started to cry.