Читать книгу Chase's Promise - Lois Faye Dyer - Страница 10

“B ut if he didn’t arrive here, then where is he?” Raine heard the thread of rising panic in her voice and struggled to control the fear squeezing her chest and throat.

“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” Chase gently urged her into the car.

If I had a million dollars, I’d gladly give it all to know you’re safe, Trey, she thought bleakly.

In the seat behind her, Killer woofed softly when Chase pulled open the driver’s door and slid behind the wheel.

“Does Trey spend much time in Billings?” Chase asked.

Raine couldn’t read his expression, though his face was turned toward her.

“Off and on. He comes down for the occasional weekend when he wants a break from Wolf Creek—sometimes I ride along and go shopping, maybe catch a movie.”

“What hotel do you use when you’re here?”

She gave him the name.

“I know where it is.” He backed out of the parking slot. “We’ll check in, show the photo to the bartender at the hotel lounge, and then you can get some sleep.”

“What will you be doing while I’m sleeping?” Raine asked, suspicious that he hadn’t said we can sleep.

“I’ll probably spend most of the night working on my laptop, checking whether there’s been any activity connected to your brother over the last couple of weeks.”

“What kind of activity?”

“Anything—if his credit cards have been used I want to know the location. And if anyone’s cashed checks on his account or used his ID for any purpose, I want any information available on the user. I’ll also run a scan to find out if his car’s license number is on abandoned vehicle records anywhere in the U.S.”

“You think he may have been robbed and his ID stolen?” Raine asked, mulling over the possibilities, trying to control the sick fear knotting her stomach.

“Maybe, maybe not. It’s standard procedure to check everything.”

Raine was silent, absorbing not only Chase’s listing of details, but also what she felt he was omitting, maybe on purpose. If someone else were using Trey’s identification, his credit cards or his checking account, or if his car had been found abandoned, what did that say about Trey’s safety?

She squeezed her eyes shut, silently repeating to herself the essential truth she couldn’t forget, the only thing she had to hold on to: Trey wasn’t dead. He was her twin, their lives were inextricably linked together. If his soul departed this world, she’d feel his leaving as if part of herself were being ripped away.

He’s alive, she told herself fiercely. And we’ll find him.

The SUV slowed and she opened her eyes, startled to realize they’d reached the entrance to the Paramount Hotel. Chase took their bags and his laptop from the backseat, told Killer to heel, and handed a vehicle key to the parking attendant.

“Will they let your dog stay here?” she asked as they crossed the sidewalk to the double glass doors edged in brass.

“Oh, yeah,” he drawled, a faint hint of amusement in his tone. “They like Killer.”

Raine walked beside him into the hotel lobby, the Rottweiler padding behind them.

The man behind the registration counter looked up as they approached, a broad smile instantly creasing his face in welcome. “Mr. McCloud. Good to see you. And you, too, Miss Harper.”

“Hello, Ken.” Raine managed a smile. Ken was a longtime employee of the Paramount; he’d checked her and Trey in and out of the hotel on more than one occasion.

Chase set the two duffel bags and his laptop in its leather case on the carpet next to Killer and took out his wallet. “We need two connecting rooms.”

Startled, Raine opened her mouth to object.

“Certainly, let me check availability,” Ken responded before Raine could protest, his fingers moving rapidly over the computer keyboard. “I don’t have two rooms together but I do have a suite on the third floor.”

“We’ll take it.” Chase handed him a credit card and moments later, scribbled his name on the registration sheet before accepting two key cards. “Will you have the bellman take our luggage upstairs? We’re going into the lounge for a nightcap.”

“Certainly.”

Chase slipped one of the cards into his pocket and handed the other to Raine before taking Trey’s photo from his jacket and laying it on the countertop. “Have you seen this man recently? Within the last few weeks?”

Ken moved the photo closer. “This is your brother, Miss Harper…?”

“Yes.” Raine nodded, her throat constricted.

He gave her a curious look before shaking his head and handing the photo back to Chase. “I’m sorry, but he hasn’t stayed with us for a month or more. I believe the last time I saw him was when the two of you were in town for the Restaurant Owners’ Association dinner, Miss Harper.”

“That was six weeks ago,” Raine commented.

“Thanks, Ken. If you see him, will you give me a call?” Chase exchanged the photo for a card.

“Will do, Mr. McCloud.”

“Killer will go upstairs with the bags.”

“Of course, Mr. McCloud.” Ken beckoned a bellhop to transfer their bags to their suite.

Chase took a thin leather lead from his jacket pocket, snapped it onto Killer’s collar and gave the leash to the bellhop. Without comment, the man took the leash, picked up the bags and headed for the elevators across the lobby.

Astounded, Raine watched the seemingly docile Killer trot by the man’s side as Chase drew her toward the doors leading to the hotel lounge.

“Why do we need connecting rooms or a suite?” she whispered.

“Because I don’t know how late I’ll be working or how quickly I’ll get answers. Depending on responses, I might need to ask you more questions about Trey as the night goes on. You might as well sleep until I have to wake you.” He eyed her. “You said you wanted to help with the investigation. Have you changed your mind?”

“No, of course not,” she said promptly, privately wondering how wise it was to share a hotel suite with a man as dangerous as Chase. Not that he’d made a single move toward her, she thought. It was her reaction to him that bothered her. But since she didn’t plan to let him know her hormones went crazy every time he got within three feet of her, she had no cause for worry.

Chase and Raine took seats at the comfortable, upscale bar. The low-backed stools were upholstered in soft black leather, the surface of the bar in front of them a polished, gleaming ebony.

“Evening, folks. What can I get you?” The bartender looked to be in his thirties and wore the hotel uniform of black slacks, white shirt and red vest.

“Scotch,” Chase told him. “Raine?”

“A glass of white wine.”

Chase waited until he brought their drinks before taking out Trey’s photo once again. “We’re looking for the lady’s brother,” he said. “Have you seen this man during the last few weeks?”

The bartender picked up the photo, tilting it for better light, before handing it back to Chase. “Nope, sorry.”

Raine listened as Chase asked him several questions about other bartenders on the evening shift, what waitresses may have been working and if there were other staff, such as busboys, who might have been in the lounge and seen Trey. The bartender’s answers didn’t give her reason to be hopeful.

He moved away to serve guests farther down the bar and Chase tossed back his drink. “So much for Trey having visited the hotel lounge that night.” He gestured at the untouched glass of wine in front of Raine. “Are you going to drink that?”

“What? Oh…no.”

They left the lounge and crossed the elegant lobby to the elevators. Chase pushed the call button and looked down at her. “We’ve barely started,” he said gruffly. “I didn’t expect to get a solid lead tonight.”

“You didn’t?” Surprised, she met his eyes. “But I thought you felt we would learn something at the Bull ’n’ Bash.”

“It was an outside shot. It’s the first place the police would have gone and chances were their search was thorough. The Bull ’n’ Bash is a bar with a regular clientele; if Trey had been there, he would have stood out. The employees or one of the usual customers would probably have remembered him because he wasn’t a regular. They would have told the cops, who in turn would have told you.”

“Then why did we come here?”

“Because I never accept another professional’s version of the facts.”

“Ah.” Raine nodded. “Being thorough and verifying reports is part of the package that results in your 98 percent success rating.”

“You did your homework before you hired me.”

“Of course.” She eyed him. “I was hoping you’d succeeded in finding your quarry 100 percent of the time.”

“Nobody in the business has a 100 percent record.”

“Does anyone have a 99 percent rating?”

“Not anyone I know.”

“So if Trey can be found, you’re the man most likely to find him.” It wasn’t a question. In fact, Raine realized she was stating her own conviction and hope aloud.

He didn’t reply, merely shrugged.

The elevator chimed and the doors whisked open. A group of five men in business suits, intent on their conversation, left the elevator.

Beside her, Raine felt Chase go suddenly still. She stared up at him and was surprised to see cold menace on his features, his gaze focused intently on the group.

She looked at the men, her swift intake of breath a mere whisper as she recognized Harlan Kerrigan.

A distinguished, silver-haired man was the last to exit the elevator. Deep in conversation with Harlan, he walked past them before he stopped abruptly. Recognition lit his features and he grinned broadly.

“Chase.” He spun on his heel. “Good to see you. How’s your dad?”

“He’s well, Senator Harris. Busy as always,” Chase replied, shaking the man’s outstretched hand.

“That’s our John. I keep telling him he needs a vacation now and then. He should take that pretty mother of yours to Mexico and soak up some sun.” He laughed and looked expectantly at Raine.

“Senator, I’d like you to meet Raine Harper. Raine, this is Senator Bill Harris.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Senator.” Raine held out her hand and smiled. Her gaze didn’t stray to Harlan, standing silently just beyond the senator.

“The pleasure’s all mine, Miss Harper.” The senator smiled benignly. “Your name seems familiar…?”

“Raine and her brother own several businesses in Wolf Creek,” Chase told him.

“Ah, yes, of course. My wife and I stayed at the Harper Hotel last summer.”

“I hope you enjoyed your time with us,” Raine replied.

“We did. I was impressed with the friendliness of the staff,” the senator said. “Well, I’d better let you two go.” He looked at Harlan. “I’m holding up a business meeting.”

Harlan managed a polite smile for the senator, however his expression held barely concealed dislike as he swept Chase and Raine with an assessing, cold stare.

Raine’s scalp prickled. She felt an urge to step back out of the line of fire. But the senator merely lifted an eyebrow at Chase, nodded slightly in what appeared to be an acknowledgment of some sort and drew Harlan away.

Chase appeared to dismiss the incident; he pushed the elevator call button again. The doors sprang open immediately and he took Raine’s arm, ushering her inside.

The doors slid shut, cutting off their view of the lobby just as Harlan and the senator disappeared through the archway into the restaurant.

“Well, that was interesting,” Raine said, unable to let the matter drop.

Chase looked directly at her, and she had to steel herself to keep from retreating before the anger in the fierce, bright blue eyes. “What?” he said, the very softness and lack of inflection in his voice a threat.

“You and Harlan Kerrigan.” Raine cocked her head to one side, eyeing him. “You reminded me of two heavyweight boxers being weighed in on ESPN before the big fight. The air practically crackled with hostility. I expected the two of you to take a swing at each other any minute.”

“Boxers?” He seemed taken aback. “What do you know about boxers psyching each other out before a fight?”

“My dad was a boxing fan,” she explained, pleased to have surprised him. “I grew up watching film clips of Smokin’ Joe Frazier and Cassius Clay, before he renamed himself Muhammad Ali. Let’s see, who else? Oh, yes. Mike Tyson. Dad wasn’t a big fan of Tyson, though.”

“I remember watching fights with your dad,” Chase said, a faint smile brightening his somber features. “But I don’t recall you being there.”

“I didn’t start watching boxing with him until after Mike died,” Raine said. She used her brother’s name purposely, intent on reading Chase’s features as he registered her remark.

His face went blank.

The elevator pinged a warning and the doors whisked open.

“This is our floor,” Chase said.

She didn’t miss the fact that he hadn’t responded when she’d brought up Mike. Interesting, she thought. She’d always wondered how Chase felt about Mike’s death. Had he grieved the loss of his best friend? Did he still? Or did he resent and blame Mike for the years he had spent in jail after Mike died?

She was no nearer to the answer now than she’d been fifteen years ago. And she still wanted to know, needed to know if the boy she’d adored as a little girl still existed, deep inside the complicated, dangerous man walking by her side.