Dalton, Tymber - Stoneface (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (9 page)

Duh.
Whoever Amy stayed with took the pictures of her. From the happy smile on Amy’s face, she appeared to be having a good time. Gwen matched the pictures to the handwritten notes. Whoever the other person was, Amy had been very careful never to snap a picture of him. Gwen assumed a him.

If Amy’s secret lover was a her, maybe Amy had more secrets than Gwen first imagined.

At least the pictures left Gwen with good recent images, including some of the clothes Amy had brought with her on the trip.

She called Liam back. “Whoever the guy is, he’s not in the pics, but he took a bunch of Amy.”

“She’s still in Rapid City. She bought gas last night with her Amex. I’m working to see if I can figure out which station. Any luck with the front desk?”

“That’s my next stop.” She hung up and transferred several of the best pictures to her BlackBerry before heading to the lobby.

Thankfully, the clerk was different than from the night before. The young woman was pleasant, helpful. When Gwen explained the situation, she looked around and motioned for her to hand over the BlackBerry, where Gwen had one of the pictures displayed.

She nodded. “Yeah, I remember her. She was here with a guy. I checked them out yesterday morning.”

Hope flared in Gwen. “Can you give me his name?”

She winced. “I’m sorry, I can’t.” She leaned in. “But if the police call, I’ll gladly give it to them. If I give it to you, I could get fired. I can’t afford to lose my job.”

Gwen held back her frustration but understood the clerk’s dilemma. “Can you describe him?”

“Average height, maybe around six feet. Brown hair, brown eyes, nothing spectacular. He wore glasses, if that helps.”

Gwen jotted it down. “Yes, it does. No idea where they went?”

“No. I handled their checkout. From the way they were talking, I got the impression they weren’t leaving the area yet. They were looking at some of the local brochures.” She pointed to the obligatory rack of tourist pamphlets in the entryway.

“Were they fighting or anything?”

“No. She seemed a little sad over something, but they acted very affectionate with each other.”

“Thanks anyway.” She returned to her room and called Liam back with an update.

“Next stop cops?” he asked.

“Yeah. I don’t hold out hopes of them doing anything, but maybe they’ll at least take a report so if something happens, we’ll have the start of a paper trail.”

“You realize she probably is okay, right? We’ve now got confirmation she was with a guy. Maybe they’re planning on eloping or something.”

“If I don’t get answers, Mom and Dad will skin me.”

“I’ll protect you, sis.”

“So says the guy afraid to break the news to them that he’s moving out. Thanks.”

They said good-bye, and she headed back to the front desk to get directions to the closest police station. She started for her rental when she realized maybe she should take her laptop. She’d left it in the room.

Might as well check my e-mail.

To counteract her workaholic tendencies, Gwen only checked her private e-mail through her phone. Everything else, she had to use her computer to read. She found that Tim had written her that morning.

Hey, Go-Go. I didn’t upset you with my rambling review, did I, sweetie? Kissy-huggy. - TimE.

Mentally smacking herself in the head, she fired off a quick reply.

I’m sorry, babycakes, sorry I worried you. I read it and loved it. Problems at home, emergency road trip to Rapid City. I’m there now looking for my sister. I’ll catch up with you soon. - G.

She scanned a few more e-mails and shut down, then packed it and the notebook and drove to the station. She nervously sat for ten minutes until a super-hot detective walked up to the waiting area.

“Miss Oxford?”

She nodded, her gaze immediately homing in on his left hand.
No ring.
Hot damn!

Wait, missing sister. Focus.

“I’m Detective Kelly. Follow me, please,” he said. She did, gladly, enjoying how his tight ass moved under his snug slacks. Short brown hair, brown eyes, six-feet-plus of solid, trim muscle in a shoulder holster.

Mmm. He’s my next hero.

In the thirty second walk to his desk, she’d mentally written half of a scorching hot love scene she wouldn’t mind a chance to star in with him.
Total yum with a gun.

She’d kill Amy for this. Dragging her out to Rapid City, and she wouldn’t even have time to suss out this dude. Then again, maybe he’d be up for a quickie. It’d been a year since she’d gotten laid, and she decided she’d be willing to forego commitment in lieu of him settling for wearing a condom and going halfsies on a hotel room.

Especially with a hunk like this in a city where no one knew her.

Oh, forget splitting the room.
If he’d do her, she’d gladly pay for it. Hell, she’d call it a business expense and deduct it on her taxes.

Perk of being a writer. Call it research.

“What can I do for you today?” he asked.

To me, not for me, and anything you want.
“Um, it’s about my sister. She’s sort of disappeared.”

He frowned. “Sort of?”

“Yeah.” She started from the beginning. Within the first thirty seconds, Gwen saw from the look on his face that not only was he not going to break out the search teams for Amy, but she probably wouldn’t get laid, either.

Damn.

“Miss Oxford, did you try calling her again?”

“This morning. Straight to voice mail.”

“I’m afraid we can’t do anything. She’s not missing.”

“Yes, she is.”

“It’s not against the law for an adult to willingly not go home.”

“Look, you don’t know my parents. If I don’t physically lay eyes on Amy and talk to her, get some answers from her, my mother and father will go apeshit. Can’t you just run her bank records or something? Ask the hotel clerk who she was with? We know she’s still here in town as of this morning. I just need to talk to her for five minutes, face-to-face, to find out what the hell is going on so I get answers.”

He leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “There’s nothing I can do right now.”

“Yes, there is,” she insisted. “You can find out where she is so I can talk to her.” She felt irritation creep into her voice despite her best efforts and tried to clamp down on her infamous hair-trigger temper. “If I don’t find out what’s going on, my life and my brother’s life will be a living hell until I do. Not to mention we’re worried about her. Cops do stuff like that all the time, don’t they? Welfare check or something, isn’t that what it’s called?”

“It’s not like on TV, Miss Oxford.” She didn’t miss his condescending tone.

“I know that. I’m a writer. I’m not stupid.”

“Then you should know it’s not like most writers portray, either. Unless you have a legitimate reason to believe she’s in danger, or is a danger to herself or others, she isn’t a missing person. She’s a hiding person. Unless she’s got a warrant out on her, or is violating parole or probation, or is wanted in connection with a crime, there isn’t anything I can do. If you want to find her before she’s ready to come home under the current circumstances, contact a private investigator. If you have reasonable cause to believe she’s in danger, then we can get involved.” He leaned forward. “I will warn you against filing a false report saying you believe she’s in danger if you don’t really think she is.”

She set her jaw. “Please call the desk clerk at the hotel. She said if the cops talk to her, she’ll tell them who the guy is. At least give me that. Toss me a bone, buddy.”

“I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do.”

“You could get off your ass and make one simple phone call!” She hadn’t risked her sanity and shitting her pants in fear to fly all the way out there, just to be stonewalled by a lazy, albeit handsome, dick-Barney-fucking-Fife who couldn’t be bothered to let his fingers do the walking.

His expression darkened. “We’re done here, Miss Oxford.” He stood. “Do you need me to escort you out, or can you find the front door by yourself?”

“No, I can find it. Sorry I wasted your time. I’m sure somewhere in this city is a missing donut in need of your attention.” She grabbed her stuff and stormed out of the station.

Fuck! Me and my goddamned temper!

* * * *

Jack blew out a relieved breath. Technically, he could have looked into the woman’s story, but from what she’d said it was most likely the sister needed a break from the craziness at home.

Especially if this woman was any indication of what the rest of her family was like.

The fact that she’d been the spitting image of Melodie hit him like a kick in the balls when he’d walked out to the waiting room to bring her back to his desk. Except for her hairstyle, she could have been her, just a few years younger than what she’d probably look like today.

If she hadn’t died.

He closed his eyes for a moment before leaving his desk and walking into the restroom, where he locked himself in for a minute so he could splash water on his face.

He didn’t need this. Why now? Suddenly, everywhere he turned, every conversation, even ones with Tim brought back memories of her.

He would have to tell Tim the full story. It’d probably hurt Tim’s feelings a little that he hadn’t talked about Mel before now, but Tim was good about understanding him. Never tried to pry things out of him.

Just like Mel.

Fuck
. Except that Tim was a hunky guy, the two of them could have been twins, personality-wise. How had he missed realizing that in the past six years? Funny, spunky, sweet, smart, protective, loyal. Sexy and emotional.

He stared at himself in the mirror. It felt like he rarely smiled anymore. Another reason for Tim’s nickname.
Stoneface.

He used to smile. A long time ago. He remembered being happy all the time, it seemed. Even if life was crappy, he had Melodie to cheer him up.

And…

But he didn’t want to think his name this morning.

He didn’t even want to think about the man he used to love.

* * * *

She called Liam. “I blew it, bro.”

“What?”

“I just pissed off a cop.”

“You in jail?”

“No.” She told the story. “What do I do now?”

He sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe you should just come home.”

The thought of flying again filled her with panic. “I didn’t fly all the way out here not to find her.”

“She apparently doesn’t want to be found.”

“Tough shit. She should talk to us and give us an explanation. She bugs out without explanation, leaving us holding the bag? Fuck her. She’s going to have to tell us what’s going on so we know what to tell Mom and Dad.”

“Hold on.” She heard him tapping on his laptop. “Hey, they’re still in Rapid City. Well, she is, at least. Probably both of them from the amount. A purchase just came through on her Visa for a meal.” More tapping.