Lucky Streak (22 page)

K
ING
B
OBBY PRIDED
himself on being as good as his word. Unless something happened to change the circumstances during which he gave it. He'd been planning on leaving town and heading back to Texas. Yes sirree Bob, he had. He already knew there wasn't a hotel room available in this town or any surrounding it thanks to the press.

But then, as he was walking on back to his car, the King felt it again. A presence. A distinct feeling of being shadowed.

More than once, he'd turned back around only to find no one behind him, but King Bobby knew something was off. So he wandered for a while, finally ducking out of sight and peering out to see who was there.

Hot damn! Marshall, the lying, cheatin' SOB!

Unbelievable, King Bobby thought as he weighed his options. He could grab him now, but he had a feeling the coward would scream bloody murder before King Bobby ever found out where his cash was. Or he let him go and turned the tail on the weasel, following Marshall instead.

King Bobby had no idea
why
Marshall would be following
him,
but it had to have something to do with the pretty filly in denial about her ex-partner's feelings.

Between the two, one of them had the King's cash. All King Bobby had to do was let things play out. Even if it meant going back on his word and spending more time in this rinky-dink town.

M
IKE SAT
in front of the television in his father's family room scarfing down a microwaved bowl of mac and cheese, wondering why the hell he felt so damn bad. He'd accomplished everything he wanted. Well, almost everything. Amber was safe and out of his life, he was single again—or at least, he would be—just the way he liked it. And if he didn't have her half of the hundred fifty grand, who cared? It wasn't the money that had been important to him anyway.

Then what was?

Before he could reflect on that question, he flicked on the television set and turned the channel to the local news, hoping for some sort of diversion from his thoughts.

“And now, here is our own Cathy Carmichael, reporting live outside the Diner on Main Street in the small coastal town of Stewart, where reporters have flocked seeking information on disgraced Olympic hopeful Jason Corwin.”

“Oh, shit,” Mike muttered. So much for diversion.

“To date, there hasn't been any sign of Jason Corwin, but his uncle Edward was spotted inside the diner with a lady friend. But that's news, too, due to the infamous Corwin curse and the fact that Edward Corwin has been a loner…” The reporter's words droned on, but Mike didn't hear the rest of what she said.

He was glued to the sight of Edward and Clara trying to make their way through the throng of reporters. His father appeared pale, hanging on to Clara's arm for dear life.

Suddenly Gabrielle appeared, looking beautiful as ever in a flowing dress that resembled one of Clara's outfits. A rosy, determined glow stained her cheeks. “Leave him alone!” she yelled to the crowd, pushing her way through.

When his cousin Derek got a load of this, he was going to hit the roof, Mike thought. He rose, wanting to go help, but needing to see how things played out here first. He'd never get there in time anyway.

“What a treat! Our local celebrity author, Gabrielle Corwin. Have you heard from Jason? Is he guilty of doping? Where is he hiding out?” the reporter asked.

As she spoke, Mike noticed Clara led Edward a few steps away from the large group of people. Thank heavens for that woman. Mike couldn't believe his own thoughts, but they were true.

Gabrielle's eyes narrowed at the reporter. “My standard answer would be no comment, however your stupid questions warrant a different response. Jason Corwin has never done drugs in his life. And if you did more than make your money off of this town, if you
knew
this town, you'd be rallying behind him and not hurling stupid questions that sound like accusations!”

Mike chuckled. “Go, Gabrielle,” he said, proud of her.

The way he'd been proud of Amber when she stood up to his uncle Thomas to protect Edward. Like a woman loyal to her man, Mike realized, the thought coming unbidden. He rolled his head back and forth, seeking relief from the building tension.

“Does that mean you've spoken with Jason Corwin since the scandal broke?” the reporter asked, nonplussed at Gabrielle's outburst.

“Where is he?” another reporter asked, pushing the microphone into Gabrielle's face.

Another reporter shouted yet a different question and suddenly Gabrielle was being jostled from all sides.

Mike hoped she wasn't wearing those stupid high heels. She'd break an ankle trying to remain on her feet.

“Everyone,
step back!
” a woman shouted.

Amber.

Mike bent down to get a better look at the screen.
Sure enough, Amber had joined Gabrielle, shoving reporters out of the way. “Move it. Back off. The Corwins have no more comments!”

Gabrielle shot an appreciative glance at Amber.

“Who are you?” a reporter asked.

Amber glanced away. “Just a family spokesperson.”

“Just a family spokesperson?” Mike asked aloud. “What the hell?
You're my wife,
” he yelled at the screen.

The sound of his voice and his vehemence took him off guard. Where had such possessiveness come from? Hadn't he just sent her packing? So why did her minimizing her position in the family bother him so damn much?

“Just one more question,” a reporter asked as he sidled up to Amber from behind. He tripped and fell headlong into Gabrielle.

Amber pulled Gabrielle out of the way before the man's big body could fall against her. “I said back off! She's pregnant!” Amber shouted, and clapped her hand over her mouth, obviously regretting her words.

As far as Mike knew, nobody in the family had been aware of that fact. Except Amber.

Mike shook his head and reached for his cell phone to call his cousin, then grabbed his keys. He had to get to town before his father, standing in the background, went crazy over the news. And he needed to thank Amber for protecting the people he loved.

 

“Y
OU'RE SUCH AN ASS
,” Marshall said to himself as he sat in a seedy bar on the water in a town named Perkins. He couldn't find Amber, even though she was like a needle in a very small haystack. Somebody ought to have seen her and yet…nada.

It was his own damn fault. He'd lost track of Amber after she'd left the diner with that cop husband of hers. Since Marshall couldn't risk being seen, he'd decided to follow King Bobby, figuring the big man would be in touch with Amber Rose again soon. But for now, following the Texan was useless. He'd somehow found himself a motel on the outskirts of town, probably paying off a reporter while Marshall was left biding his time.

With the couple of bucks he had left in his pocket, he bought himself cheap beer on tap and wondered what the hell had happened to his lucky streak.

He'd used his winnings with Amber to pay off the loan shark he owed. Marshall had found another game to make some cash, but without Amber, his luck had gone south.

Unlike King Bobby, Marshall didn't have money to burn. He'd been stuck sleeping in the car he'd rented with a stolen credit card.

He glanced up at the television on top of the bar and nearly choked on his beer. There she was, Amber Rose, pretty as a picture, on Main Street in Stewart. Beneath the screen, the tag read LIVE!

He slapped a couple of bills onto the bar and
walked out whistling. His luck was changing after all. Once he had Amber back by his side where she belonged, money would follow.

 

M
IKE PARKED HIS CAR
behind the diner and ran to find his family. The first person he asked sent him to Derek's office. When he arrived, chaos ruled. But the only person he didn't see was the one he most wanted to lay eyes on.

“Where's Amber?”

No one answered.

Mike glanced at his father.

Edward paced the floor, muttering about curses. He seemed worse than before Mike had left.

“Dad, are you okay?”

“I'm fine. The curse doesn't care about me right now. It's them you should be asking about.” He pointed to Derek and Gabrielle on the other side of the room.

“Don't you worry, I'm taking care of him,” Clara assured Mike.

“Thank you,” he said. Mike glanced around quickly. “Dad, where's Amber?” Mike asked.

“Why do you care?” Edward didn't look up as he answered. “The curse is going to get you two anyway,” he muttered, continuing his pacing.

Knowing a lost cause when he saw one, Mike stepped over to Clara who sat at Derek's laptop,
typing on the keyboard. “Clara, where's Amber?” Mike asked.

“Just a minute, son. I think I'm onto something here. Do you know your father's exhibiting signs of paranoia and bipolar disorder?”

Mike nodded. “We're going to see a psychiatrist on Friday.” He just hadn't told his father yet.

Edward stopped in his tracks. “The hell I am! There's nothing wrong with me that won't be cured by me staying away from people.”

“Dad, we'll discuss this later,” Mike said, patting him on the shoulder. He'd planned to spring the psychiatrist appointment on him at the last minute, preferably in the car when Edward was already on his way there.

“No, we won't,” he said, clearly angry. “And missy, if you want to protect your baby, you'll listen to me,” he said to Gabrielle.

Gabrielle turned from where she sat in Derek's big, comfortable chair behind his desk, gripping the old wood so hard her knuckles turned white. “Uncle Edward, I don't want to hear another word about curses. Please!”

Derek shot Mike a look, silently warning him to get Edward to back off. Then Derek glanced at his wife. “How is your ankle? You know better than to wear those high heels when you're pregnant! That reporter could have knocked you over,” he said, obviously concerned.

“Well, he didn't, because Amber took care of things, didn't she?” Gabrielle asked her husband. “I'm pregnant, not sick. Not an invalid. I can wear heels and—”

Mike stepped between them. “Speaking of Amber, where is she?” he asked again, hopefully for the last time.

“If you'd told me about the baby—” Derek interjected.

“You would have driven me crazy for an extra couple of days,” she said. “Can't you just be happy?”

He stopped in front of her and knelt down. “I'm thrilled, sweetheart, you know I am.”

Mike had a lump in his throat watching them, knowing how much they loved one another, how they'd do anything to protect each other.

An unaccustomed feeling of envy welled up in his chest, along with thoughts of Amber.

“I hate to ruin the moment, but can someone
please
tell me where the hell Amber went?” Mike asked in a low, level,
I mean business
tone.

He just wanted to make sure she was okay. That was all. Really.

Finally, everyone turned to face him.

“She's gone home, no thanks to you.” Gabrielle spoke first. “She said now that she was safe, it was time to leave, since according to you, there was no hope for anything lasting between you two.” Gabrielle's voice held a wealth of accusation.

Mike didn't blame her.

“Tell me you didn't say that to her face,” Derek said to Mike.

“I may have led her to believe it was over.” He shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

“Is it?” Gabrielle asked.

“It needs to be.” And he wasn't going to reiterate all the good reasons he'd been trying to convince himself of.

“Then there's no need for you to go to the bus station,” Clara said. “She was taking a bus to Boston and then catching another one home to Las Vegas.”

“I can't believe you'd let a woman like that go,” Derek said at last.

Mike's cell phone rang and he answered on the first ring. “What?” he asked, glad for the distraction.

“Hey, there, Detective, it's King Bobby. I got me some information you might want. Seems I was followed when I left the diner.”

Mike raised an eyebrow. “I'm sure you've made a few enemies in your day. Why is this of interest to me?”

The other man let out a booming laugh. “You got me all wrong. The King's a lover, not a fighter. And this isn't my fight. The man followin' me is Marshall Banks, and I'm thinkin' he's not after me, but your woman.”

Mike's stomach cramped. “Why would you think that?”

“'Cause I'm not blind, man. I've seen how he looks at her. I also have a hunch she was the brains behind the operation so he needs her. He's not just going to let her go.”

Mike had seen the same thing in Marshall's eyes back in Vegas. “How long has he been tailing you?”

“I realized it when I left the diner earlier.”

“And you're just calling me now?” Mike asked, annoyed.

“Don't get your knickers in a twist. I knew the little lady was with you, so she'd be safe.”

But she wasn't with Mike now. She was alone. And he was to blame.

“Anyways, I'm just calling to ask you to keep an eye out. If you see Marshall, make sure you let me know so I can collect my money,” King Bobby said.

“Where are you now?” Mike asked the other man.

“I got myself a hotel room in the next town over. Why?”

Mike drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Meet me at the bus station in Stewart,” he instructed the Texan. “It's on the far side of town.”

“Why?”

“If you want your money, just be there.” Mike disconnected the phone and faced his family. “I'm out of here,” Mike said.

“What's wrong?” Gabrielle asked.

“That guy who was after Amber is in town.”
Mike clenched his jaw, furious at himself for not seeing this coming.

Derek rose from behind the desk. “If you need backup, I'm there for you.”