Agent Bride. Beverly Long
can have the bathroom first,” he said. He had a call to make.
She got out of bed, looking like a waif in his T-shirt and sweatpants. They needed to get her some clothes, some boots. When the bathroom door closed, separating them, he reached for his phone.
Chase answered on the second ring. “Hello,” he said, his tone almost a whisper.
“It’s me. Cal.”
There was a pause. “Are you okay?”
“Good. I’m good. You?”
“Fine.” Chase took a breath. “Where the hell are you?”
“In Missouri,” Cal said. “I could be at the house for dinner.”
“That...that would be nice. But I’m in St. Louis. With Raney.”
“Who’s Raney?”
Chase laughed softly. “Don’t worry. You’ll get to know her. I’m going to marry her.”
Cal felt a rush of emotions. He swallowed hard and managed to say in a fairly normal tone, “It’s a good thing my heart is strong. Congratulations,” he added.
“Thanks,” Chase said. “It’s a long story but Raney is testifying this week and maybe next. That’s why I’m whispering. I’m at the courthouse for an early morning meeting with attorneys before testimony begins later today.”
The pieces were clicking together. Raney was the witness that his brother had been protecting.
“Just as soon as she finishes, we’ll be back at the house. In the meantime, you’re welcome to stay. There’s an extra key in the garage, in a coffee can under some nails and screws, on a shelf on the rear wall.”
He laughed. “Old habits,” he said. As kids, there had always been an extra key to the house somewhere in the garage. It was comforting to know that some things never changed. He thought about telling his brother about Stormy. Knew it wouldn’t change Chase’s mind about offering up a place to stay. But it might divert his attention from where it needed to be—on the woman who’d evidently turned the confirmed bachelor around. “I’ll take you up on the offer and I’ll have the coffee on when you and Raney get back.”
“You do that,” Chase said. He cleared his throat. “I’m really glad you’re home, Cal. I’m really glad you called.”
* * *
THE APPLE PIE was really good. And she enjoyed the bag of chips that came afterward. “Breakfast of champions,” she said. They were in his SUV. He’d brushed the snow off and scraped the ice away and was now sitting next to her. The vehicle was warming up nicely.
The only activity at the hotel since they’d left their room was the arrival of a pickup truck that had a plow attached to the front end. The driver was clearing the parking lot again, working around the cars as best he could. He had waved as he’d taken his first pass by them but otherwise ignored them.
Cal had watched him closely for several minutes and evidently decided he wasn’t any threat because he’d started in on his own breakfast. “Yep, beats an MRE any day,” he said, biting into his half of the pie. “And a restaurant is out of the question right now. I don’t want to take a chance on the wrong people seeing you.”
The wrong people. Who the hell were they? Would she suddenly recognize them if she saw them? Maybe that would work. Maybe she should chase after the Mercedes Men and force a confrontation. It dawned on her that maybe that was exactly what Cal had planned. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“To Ravesville,” he said.
“Where you grew up?” she said, remembering their earlier conversation.
“Yes. Just talked to my brother.” He turned to her. “Who’s engaged. Unbelievable.”
She laughed. “Is he twelve?”
He frowned. “Of course not.”
“Then why is it so unbelievable? People get engaged and married all the time.”
He looked over his shoulder at the wedding dress he’d retrieved from the trash can and once again thrown into the backseat. “Obviously.”
Now it was her turn to stammer. “I mean...people do...but even so...I don’t think I did.”
He stared at her, his gaze piercing. “Why is that?” he asked finally.
“I think I would know. I think I wouldn’t forget something like that.”
“At the risk of stating the obvious, you don’t even remember your name.”
He hadn’t said it unkindly. Just matter-of-fact. She totally understood his skepticism. But married? She would not have forgotten that. But it was a waste of time to dwell on it when her mind was blank. “So we’re going to your family’s home?”
“Yes. My brother’s been living there, getting the house ready to sell. He’s away right now but we can use the house.”
She would be alone with this man in a strange place. She could feel her skin warm suddenly and she felt ill, as if the pie might make a return appearance. What the hell was her body trying to tell her?
Was she making a mistake? Was this the wrong thing to do?
“You look a little green,” he said.
Probably because her body was trying to tell her no and her brain, which knew she had no other option, was saying full steam ahead.
“I’m fine,” she said, dismissing his concern.
He didn’t look convinced. “I imagine you’d feel better in clothes that fit. Once we get to Ravesville and you’re settled at the house, I can take care of that.”
The idea of him buying her clothes made her heat up again. That was an intimate thing for a man to do for a woman. She didn’t know what to say.
He didn’t seem to expect an answer. Maybe he bought clothes for women all the time.
She didn’t think so. He’d been a SEAL. Not a lot of department stores where they worked.
Would he ask her about sizes or simply do a visual inspection? Oh boy. She was edging toward hot.
“It normally wouldn’t be that far in good weather,” he said, oblivious to her temperature-control troubles. “It will take us longer today. But first there’s something we need to do.”
“What’s that?”
“Remember last night I told you that I thought the Mercedes Men were going to come back. We need to see if I was right.”
That was a bucket of ice water. “How do you propose we do that?”
“We need to get somewhere where we can see them and they can’t see us.”
She looked around. The palette was white with a little gray from the bare trees. But then she saw what might be a possibility. The hotel was on a service road, off the Interstate. It went for about a half mile before it reconnected with the highway.
Down the service road, about halfway to the Interstate, were two other buildings. She hadn’t noticed them the previous night. Of course, it had been dark when they’d arrived. It wasn’t another hotel. No, these were one-story cement structures, each with three big garage doors. The building closest to them had a partial second story made of wood, painted white, as if it had been added at some time.
From that vantage they would certainly have a good view of the hotel parking lot but would need binoculars if they wanted to see anything in detail. She realized she was tracking when he reached into the backseat, unzipped his bag and pulled out a pair. She looked at them closer. Military issue. Very nice.
“We still need to get into the building,” she said.
He