You're Still the One (16 page)

              "We knew she wasn't from around here."

              "Did you happen to notice as she was leaving," Rick asked with a male-bonding grin, "what kind of car she was in?"

              "Actually, we did." From the sheepish grin on the younger officer's face, Katie figured they had watched Grace as long as possible. Typical male response, especially if her sister had dyed her long, thick hair blond. "They were in a Ford pickup, white. Probably eight or ten years old. Oklahoma tags."

              "Great." Rick shook hands with both men.

              "Her hair's shorter, too. About here." Officer Mark indicated his collarbone.

              Katie was shocked Grace had cut her hair. "Thanks."

              "You're not the only one looking for 'em."

              She stilled, looking at Rick.

              "No, we're not." His gaze narrowed slightly. "How'd you know that?"

              "About fifteen, twenty minutes later, a bald guy walks in, shows the waitress a picture and I heard her tell him that a woman matching that same description had just left."

              Bald guy. With a thick neck, Katie thought, concern worming into her excitement over getting a lead.;mmnmjjjjjnnbnbcbnndjn  hbbbhbhbnjnjbbnnbnvnb  j jhhvhjvjnvnnjnjfjjj

              Rick asked, "Did you happen to see which direction the woman in the truck went?"

              "Looked like they were heading north, for US-69, but I couldn't tell you for sure."

              "That's great. We really appreciate your help."

              "Any time." Sergeant Clark said, shaking Rick's hand. "We don't want any trouble, especially with the mob. We'll keep an eye out."

              Once outside, Rick paused next to Katie's door after opening it.

              "Sounds like they've already left," she said.

              "Probably, but now we know that they're driving. At least for now. Let's sweep through the parking lots in town."

              "All right." Captured between the car and Rick's broad chest, Katie told herself to get in the car before she did something she'd regret, like touch him. As she settled in her seat, he shut the door, then walked around and got in.

              "I'm surprised Graced hasn't called yet." Katie fastened her seat belt as Rick started the car.

              "Until she does, we should probably stay put. Do you have a problem with that?"

              "Until she does, we should probably stay put. Do you have a problem with that?"

              "No. Of course not." But she did. She needed desperately to get some kind of space from him. She'd been counting on her sister to provide that. Maybe Grace was still here.

              An hour later, they'd made a sweep of every parking lot in town, including the hotels they'd already checked. No sign of an old-model white Ford pickup with Oklahoma tags.

              "Looks like we missed them," Katie said.

              He turned into the parking lot of the Winfield Inn. "How about if we hope up here and wait until we hear from Grace?"

              The prospect of spending another night alone with Rick snapper her nerves taut. "You don't think we can catch them?"

              "Which direction, Katie?"

              "Good point." She noted the tight lines of his body, the white lines that fanned out from his generous moth. "Look, I'm sorry about this--"

              "Hey, none of this is your fault. We'll find them. I just don't think it's a good idea to take off without having some idea in front of them.

              "I agree." She watched the cars whiz by on the busy street in front of them.

              "So, we'll check in here. We can get separate rooms. Since it seems that Henderson's goons are ahead of us rather than behind, there's no reason we have to crowd each other."

             
Crowd each other?
She wouldn't have put it that way, but then she hadn't been the one to put their past in a box that would never be opened again, had she? She forced a smile. "Great. Two rooms. Then what?"

              "Find something to do while we wait."

              Her gaze met his. There wasn't one bit of suggestion in his tone, in his look. Just a cool steadiness. "All right."

              What was she wanting to see? Desire? Regret? He'd made it clear where they stood.

              A muffled ring sounded, and Katie jumped, then grabbed her purse from the back seat. Another ring and she had it out. "Yes! Hello!"

              "What happened?" Grace demanded. "Could you not figure out my hints?"

              Katie's lips twisted, and her gaze shot to Rick. She stabbed a finger toward the phone, indicating that it was Grace. He leaned close, and she held the phone between them so he could hear. "I figure it out, if you meant Winfield, Kansas."

              "Yes, so what's the deal?" Her sister's voice rose. "I waited almost three hours for that money?"

              "Are you guys all right?" Katie asked.

              "Yes."

              "I brought the money. I'm here. We can meet right now."

              "You
brought
it?" Grace voice turned shrill, and Katie moved the phone a fraction away. "I thought I could depend on you. What are we going to do? We need that money, Katie. I can't believe you would trick me this way."

              "Give me a break, Grace. I'm trying to help you."

              "Then why don't I have the money?" her sister snapped.

              "You're going to meet me and get it," Katie said, warmed by Rick's thumbs-up. "Rick can get protection for Tommy while he--"

              "Rick!" her sister exploded. "Rick Powell?"

              "Yes, and he--"

              "Oh, good grief. No wonder you're not thinking straight."

              Katie ignored that, though her blood started a slow boil. "Grace, he's a P.I. now. He's been helping me all along."

              "It was probably his idea not to wire that money."

              "It was a good idea," Katie said tightly.

              "Tell her you'll wire it now," Rick whispered.

              Kit frowned.

              He nodded, his gaze urging. "Go on."

              "I'll wire it now, Grace, if you don't want to meet me."

              "We're gone, Katie. We're not coming back there. We think we saw one of Henderson's men."

              "That's why you should let us meet you somewhere."

              "So they can do to us what they did to Billy? No, thanks."

              The scorn in her sister's voice needled Katie, but she recognized the fear underneath. "Tell me where to send the money."

              "Will you really do it this time?"

              Rick nodded, his cheek nudging hers.

              "Yes," Katie said, refusing to dwell on the feel of his warm, supple skin, the smooth jaw.

              "Promise?" Grace asked.

              "Yes." Katie gritted the word out, about ready to pass the phone off to Rick.

              "Okay. Remember the first boy I ever kissed? Second grade?"

              Frustrated, Katie let her forehead fall forward. Rick's breath washed against her neck, her earlobe. "No, I don't remember."

              "Second grade, Katie. And it's in the same state we're all in now. Wire the money to the First State Bank there."

              And she hung up.

              With careful deliberation, afraid she might scream, Katie also hung up, then shoved the phone in her purse. "She makes me so mad," she said between gritted teeth.

              "I know, but we've got to focus on what she said, figure out where she wants to pick up that money."

              "The First State Bank of Nowhere, Kansas," she muttered, her relief at hearing Grace's voice short-lived. "All right, all right, I'm trying.?

              Rick chuckled, his shoulder lifting against hers. "You gonna admit no one else could figure out where they are. Not from tapping the phone, anyway."

              "Ugh." Katie shoved a hand through her hair, trying for all she was worth to remember the first boy Grace had kissed.

              Rick moved away, casually angling back against the door, but Katie felt the withdrawal like a slap. This was the way things were going to be; she had to accept it.

              "Okay, second grade." She drummed her fingers on her knee, too aware of Rick's spicy scent, the way his broad shoulders blocked the window behind him. "Oh, Will...Grady. Yes, that's it."

              "Okay, let's take a look." Rick reached under his seat and pulled out the atlas he'd brought.

              Leaning over, her shoulder against his, she scanned the map of Kansas. "A town in Kansas named Will? William? Williams? Williamstown?"

              "Grady City." Rick stabbed a finger at a small dot on the opposite side of the state. "Straight west of here, clear across Kansas. Looks like four hundred miles or so."

              "They must be planning to drive all night."

              "If she wants to pick up that money tomorrow, I'd say you're right."

              "So, we go, too, right?"

              "Right."

              She took the atlas from him and dropped it in the back seat. "First stop Check It Out?"

              "Yes. We'll wire the money, drive on to Grady City and be there to meet Grace at the bank in the morning."

              "I like the way you think."

              He flashed her a grin that caused a flutter in her stomach. She flat out gave up on ignoring it; she just couldn't. The man got to her quicker than lightning to a rod, and she was out of resolve to fight it.

              Less than half an hour later, they had wired sixteen hundred dollars to the First State Bank of Grady City and were headed north on US-69 to US-54 West. Her nerves were stretched thin from keeping up a casual front. This was going to be a long night.

CHAPTER 10

              He was doing fine, Rick told himself as they drove. Even if his car had never felt so small. For nearly twelve hours, he'd been sitting mere inches from Katie, breathing the same air, feeling every one of her movements in nerve endings that were too sensitive. About three hundred miles back, he had put himself in a holding pattern, refusing to allow his mind to go anywhere but the chase. He hadn't and wouldn't think about Katie and the need closing around him like an insidious fog.

              He shifted his legs beneath the car's dashboard, his knees banging into the glove compartment. He had the passenger seat as far back as it would go. Once the sun had set, Katie had offered to drive because of his night blindness.

              He'd wanted to drive, wanted something to occupy his mind and his hands, but he could see that she needed to feel as if she were helping. Since his night vision in the last year had become noticeably worse, he'd agreed.

              They'd talked about music and movies, even waterskiing, and Katie had followed his lead, not once broaching a subject with more personal relevance than that. The whole time, he'd kept an eye out for a silver sedan or any sign of a tail.

              She'd been in such perfect sync with his thoughts and suggestions today that they were starting to operate like two old partners. Satisfied with what they'd learned in Winfield, he couldn't stop his admiration over the way she'd handled Grace. Better than he'd even seen.

              He'd always wanted to be one person with whom Katie could let down her guard, release the lock on that iron maiden control. Maybe when they'd been together before, he'd asked too much of her, too quickly. Since they'd hooked up to find Grace, she'd let him see frustration, uncertainty, fear. The old Katie never would have shown such vulnerability.

              Too late, he reminded himself. The time for regret was past. Yet, he wondered what it would be like if she turned that intense, single-minded focus on him.

              He slammed the door on the thought. It wasn't going to happen. And he wasn't letting his mind wander to silky, tantalizing corners like that anymore.

              Discipline and self-control were second nature to him, right? He was Air Force, after all. He could do this. He was doing it. He refused to be distracted by something he didn't know how to deal with. The cared for her - she'd been his first love, and he supposed he would always have feelings for her -- but he wouldn't go back.

              They reached Grady City limits just after one in the morning and pulled up under a single red flashing light at an intersection in the middle of the prairie. Flat wheat fields, barren of trees, rippled unendingly into the sooty night. Silver clouds, trimmed in midnight black, scudded across the sky in front of a translucent, milk-white moon.

              After consulting the map, they turned right at the intersection and drove into town. Seeing Katie stifle a yawn for the third time, he suggested they stop at the first hotel they saw. Within half an hour, they were settled into clean, moderately priced rooms across the hall from one another.

              He told Katie good-night, trying not to notice how sexy she looked with her short hair tousled by repeated finger combings. Or how the smudges under her tired eyes tugged at him.

              He stood in the open doorway of his room, waiting until she locked herself in and he heard the dead bolt slide home. Restless and edgy, he moved into his room, closed the door. Walking to the window, he nudged back one edge of the nubby oatmeal-and-turquoise striped curtain. He'd requested rooms on this side of the hotel so he could keep an eye on the parking lot.

              The night was dark and still, he parking lot empty of people. Tall flourescent light poles sent pools of yellow light onto the asphalt, slithering under and around bodies of cars. Everything was quiet. Too quiet.

              Eyes gritty from fatigue, he rubbed a hand over his face. He was wound up from being so close to Katie all day, listening to her soft voice strum over his nerves. Images of her chased through his mind. Snatches of the conversation they'd had about her mom's death. The complete surrender on her face when he'd kissed her at the creel. The way she'd faced his parents.

              He was tired, his defenses down, he told himself as he put a mental brake on the thoughts. A good night's rest was what he needed to clear his head. Again, he scanned the cars in the parking lot, then froze as his mind registered where his gaze had stopped. A silver sedan.

              It looked like the same make and model as the one that had tailed them in Oklahoma City.

              He picked up the phone and called to tell Katie that he was going down to check out the parking lot. No need to alarm her until he got a close look.

              She answered, her low, drowsy voice causing the muscles in his belly to pull tight. The conversation lasted less than thirty seconds, but his body still throbbed as he took the stairs from their second-floor rooms to the lobby level.

              Once outside, he walked across the parking lot and double-checked the silver sedan. Yes, it was the same car. And it was empty.

              Sensation buzzing at the base of his spine, he spun toward the hotel. He was the only soul out here, his the only footsteps scuffing along the pavement. So, where was Henderson's baboon?

              Spurred by the reminder that Katie was alone, Rick jogged inside and to the stairwell door. He took the steps two at a time, not questioning the increasing pace of his strides or the concern that knotted the muscles in his neck.

              He opened the door to the second floor, his gaze shooting down the short hallway. A man stood in front of Katie's door, holding the handle.

              "Hey!" Adrenaline hit his system like a live current and Rick took off running.

              The guy didn't even look at him, just spun and bolted down the hall, rounded the corner. Wall sconces cast a soft light and provided enough illumination for Rick to get a good look at the man. Short. Balding. One of Henderson's apes.

              Concern shot through him, and he raced past eight rooms before he cornered at the end just as the man had. He didn't see the guy anywhere, knew he could easily be led into chasing the man around the entire floor, which was laid out in a square. Nearby, a heavy door slammed shut. The door leading to the stairs. Rick heard the muffled sound of footsteps pounding down the steps. The man was gone.

              Katie!

              Rick pivoted and raced to her room. That guy hadn't had time to get into her room. Had he?

              Rick pounded on her door. "Katie!"

              No answer.

              He pressed an ear to the door but heard nothing. Rattling the door's long handle, he pounded harder. "Katie!"

              "Hey, keep it down out there, will ya? a scratchy female voice sounded through a half-open door behind him.

              "Sorry." He fought down panic that lodged in his throat like a stone. "Katie!"

              Why didn't she answer? Was she asleep? He snatched his card key out of his pocket, raced into his room and grabbed the phone. Dragging the cord and phone box as far as he could, he propped open his door with one foot, his gaze glued to her door. Willing her to pick up the phone.

              The corresponding rings sounded in her room, but there was no answer. She was all right. She had to be. If that bald-headed bastard had done anything to her...

              Rick dumped the phone onto the phone and hurried across the hall, pounded on the door again. Nothing.

              By this time, several other guest doors had opened. Sleepy-eyed people poked their heads out, grumbling and demanding quiet. "What's going on?"

              "Was there a robbery?"

              " I chased a man out of here a while ago," Rick said, fear sliding icy fingers down his spine. "Now I can't get any answer from my... from Katie."

              "Let's call the manager," the raspy-voiced woman suggested.

              He tried to shoulder the door open. Tried his own card key with no luck. Again, he pounded on the door. Still nothing. Apprehension closed over him, suffocating, pinching his gut.

              The elevator bell dinged, and he glanced down the hall, recognized the swarthy features of the night manager.

              "Waz de trouble?" the man asked in thickly accented English.

              Rick was glad one of the guests had called the man. He tried to sound calm against the dread welling like a tide inside him.

              "I need to get into Ms. Foster's room right now. I've been knocking and there's no answer. I'm afraid something have happened."

              "I can't let you in unless--"

              "I know you remember me from checking in earlier." Rick advanced, hoping the six inches he had on the guy would intimidate him. "I chased a guy off this floor a while ago, a man who was trying to get into this room. He is not one of your guests. Understand?"

              The manager's olive skin paled, and he nodded. "I did see a man rush out of the hotel?"

              "I need in that room." Rick said, his chest hurting at the possibility that something might have happened to Katie.

              "Yes, yes, of course." With a shaking hand, the manager slid in his card key.

              The lock clicked, and Rick grabbed the handle, yanked open the door, sliding his Magnum from the small of his back.

              "Should I--"

              "Wait here." He stepped inside, his gaze sweeping the room as he thumbed off the safety on his gun.

              By the soft, white light of a corner lamp, he quickly registered that the bed, dresser, closet were all undisturbed. But just behind the room door he held open with his arm, he bathroom door was shut. He heard the shower, had visions of Katie lying in there hurt.

              Apprehension a slick, greasy knot in his belly, he snatched open the door just in time to see her sweep back the shower curtain.

              His gun was already up, leveled, when he yelled, "Katie!"

              She screamed, plastered the shower curtain across her breasts.

              He registered naked glistening flesh, surprised eyes.

              "What are you doing?" she demanded, raking back her wet hair. "How did you get in here?"

              No blood. No sign that anyone had been in here, either. She'd been taking a shower the entire time. His knees nearly buckled in relief. He thumbed the safety on, returned his gun to the small of his back.

              "I'm taking a shower here, Powell. Are you crazy?"

              "Be right back." He leaned around the still-open door and met the wide-eyed stare of the night manager and the three guests who'd joined him.

              All hid smiles behind their hands.

              Heat crept up his neck as he spoke to the manager. "Looks like she's all right, but I do want to talk to you later about the man you saw."

              The man nodded, his curious gaze going past Rick. "Is she-"

              "She's fine." As Rick shut the door, he heard the swell of excited voices, the night manager trying to calm everyone. Rick slid the dead bolt, set the chain and twisted the knob lock before turning to find Katie standing in the shower just as he'd left her, her eyes huge.

              She clutched the beige plastic curtain to her as if it were a family heirloom.

              Stepping into the doorway of the bathroom, he stared into her blue-gray eyes, losing himself for a moment, reassuring himself that she was all right. Relief drummed through him, though it didn't quiet the thunder of his heart or thaw the frigid knot in his belly.

              At this look, she went still. A frown puckered between her dark brows. "What happened?"

              Concern flickered in her eyes, and he knew she'd recognized the same emotion in his. Her fingers tightened on the shower curtain.

              "Everything's okay," he said automatically.

              "Rick," she snapped. "I know you didn't come in for me...uh, because you wanted... Why did you come in here?"

              She had never looked more beautiful. Her mind-dark hair was wet and slicked back from her oval face, her lashes spiky. The scents of fresh soap and shampoo and woman steamed around him.

              He ached to touch her, to feel that she was all right. He told himself it was enough that he could see she was. He wasn't aware he'd moved unto the shower spray misted his face. Water jetted against the curtain, pinged the sides of the porcelain tub. Diamond droplets of water shimmered in the cleft where her bare shoulder joined her neck.

              Unable to take his gaze from her, he curled his hands into fists at his side. "I went downstairs to check out the parking lot."

              "Yes, you told me." Her skin was flushed pink from her shower; her eyes glowed like smoky jewels.