Leverage. Janie Crouch

Leverage - Janie Crouch


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had been women since Fiona, of course. During the beginning downward spiral, there had been way too many women—just part of a series of bad choices Dylan made in the name of dealing with unbearable grief. But none of them had meant anything; none of them had touched him in any sort of meaningful way.

      After just a few short hours in Shelby’s company, Dylan wasn’t sure he’d be able to say the same thing about her.

      Dylan wasn’t proud of how he’d handled the situation at the diner. A yelling match in front of Sally’s was never a good plan. But the thought of spending more time with Shelby? It was both the most exciting and most frightening prospect Dylan had had in his personal life in years.

      And now Dylan had to talk her into coming to his house. Her presence there, even for only a few short hours, was going to disrupt his peaceful, orderly life. Dylan just knew it. But what other choice did he have? He couldn’t leave her in town alone. So even though she didn’t seem too keen on the idea of staying with him, Dylan would have to change her mind.

      And he would just have to keep the attraction he had for this woman, and her damn freckles, under control.

      From across the street, Dylan watched as Shelby came back out of the motel’s office, key in hand. She drove her car a little farther into the parking lot and parked in front of a room. After a moment, she got out of her car with a small suitcase and entered her room.

      The Falls Run Motel wasn’t fancy, but it was clean and family friendly. There was one building with two floors of rooms. The back of all the bottom-level rooms had sliding glass doors with small concrete patios; the upper-level rooms all had small decks, both providing views of the mountains.

      Shelby’s room was on the first floor, which made Dylan’s plan much easier. He had to talk to her, but knew he didn’t want to go through her room’s front door. He needed to get her out in secret in case someone was watching. That left the back sliding glass door.

      Dylan pulled his truck farther into the shadows of the bank parking lot that stood across the street from the motel. He turned off the engine and flipped a switch for the light in the cab so it wouldn’t turn on when he opened the door. Just in case. He slid out of the cab, pushing all pain to the side. He felt a little ridiculous hugging the shadows as he made his way across the street in the rain, but he’d learned over the years that an ounce of prevention was worth three and a half tons of cure.

      Dylan made his way around the back of the motel, keeping away from the lights. He silently walked along the line of trees until he was right behind Shelby’s room. No lights were on in the rooms on either side of her, which was good. Shelby had pulled the curtain closed, so only a tiny bit of light cracked through the glass door. Dylan approached the door and tapped on it softly.

      “Shelby.” Dylan put his mouth almost up to the door. He didn’t want his voice to carry. He could see the shadow of movement in the room, but couldn’t tell if Shelby could hear him. He tapped again, a little louder.

      The curtain inched back and Shelby peeked out, but Dylan could tell she still couldn’t see him from where he was in the shadows. He tapped again right where she was looking and brought his face close to the window.

      Her short shriek made Dylan thankful there wasn’t anyone in the rooms next to hers. The curtain flew back down, but Dylan heard the unlocking of the door a moment later.

      “You scared the pants off me,” Shelby hissed. She had a towel wrapped around her neck, drying rain out of her long red hair. It looked even more red against the white of the cloth.

      “Sorry.”

      “What are you doing here? And why are you at the back door? Why didn’t you use the front?”

      Dylan put a finger up to his lips. He didn’t want her to announce to everyone he was here. “I’m trying to talk with you without anyone knowing I’m here. Do you mind if I come in?”

      At least she didn’t hesitate as she opened the door farther and stepped back, which surprised Dylan a little bit. He wouldn’t have been surprised if he had to plead his case from a cracked door after how he’d acted. He walked in and slid the door closed behind him, pulling the curtain to give them privacy from any possible prying eyes.

      “Come back because you found just the right words to let me know how you don’t like me?” Shelby stood, arms folded and eyebrow raised, by one of the beds in the room.

      Dylan winced. He supposed he deserved that, at least a little.

      “I’m sorry about before.”

      If anything, Shelby’s eyebrow arched even higher. She didn’t say anything.

      “Listen, I was going to leave you alone here, let you get some rest, go home and do the same myself before we leave in a couple hours. But the fact is, someone tried to kill you tonight.”

      Shelby looked shocked then sat down on the bed and began smoothing her wet hair with the towel almost absently. “First of all, thanks for saving my life. But me almost dying and someone trying to kill me are two different things, Dylan.”

      “I know. I don’t use the terms interchangeably.” Dylan took a step closer, more to keep his shadow away from the curtain than anything else. But his action drew her attention. She stood and began walking farther away without a word, turning her back to him.

      Dylan sighed. He guessed he deserved that, too.

      But instead of taking the plastic chair at the farthest point away from him in the room, as Dylan thought she was going to do, Shelby walked into the bathroom and came back out with another towel a moment later. She tossed it to him and sat back down on the bed.

      “You look as miserable as I feel. Maybe that will help dry you off enough so that you’re at least not dripping.”

      Dylan began to towel off his face and hair. “Thanks.”

      “Don’t look so surprised. I’m not a she devil, you know.”

      “I never thought you were.”

      Her eyebrow rose again.

      Dylan changed the subject. “That guy tonight wasn’t a drunk driver who got sloppy. That car was someone coming at you with the specific intention of running you down.”

      Shelby stopped drying her hair and clutched the towel to her like a security blanket. Her green eyes were huge in her pale face. “Do you really think that’s true?”

      “Well, let me ask you this. Do you remember anything about the car that almost ran you off the road earlier today while you were driving up here?”

      Shelby shrugged. “Not too much. I’m good with remembering numbers, but not much of anything else.”

      Dylan didn’t want to just feed an image into her mind. He wanted to see if he could help her remember. “Was it a light or dark color, or maybe a specific color you remember, like red or yellow?”

      “No, definitely not a bright color. It was dark, maybe black or gray. I can’t really recall.”

      “That’s okay.” Dylan sat down on the bed across from hers. “Is there anything you can remember about the model of the vehicle? Maybe it was an SUV or a noticeable brand of car, like a VW or a Jeep?”

      “No, I don’t know anything about cars. But it wasn’t anything like that. I just remember thinking it was an old person’s car. That maybe it was some old person who shouldn’t be driving at all if he or she was going to run people off the road.”

      “Okay, an old person’s car.” That was the info Dylan had been hoping for. “A sedan.”

      “Yeah, a sedan.” Shelby nodded. “But I don’t know what make or anything.”

      “That’s okay, you don’t have to. But I think you might find it interesting that the car that tried to run you down tonight was also a dark sedan. Someone has tried to kill you today. Twice. Both in ways that would seem like


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