The girl told them the office manager didn’t come in until eight. The office manager was the one with access to the bookkeeping system. All she did was take care of new bookings, calls for the guides, last minute snafus, those kinds of problems. She couldn’t access what company had booked a guide after the initial booking was made, only the customer and guide itinerary information.
The men sat and anxiously waited for the office manager to arrive.
The older woman suspiciously eyed them after they told her what they wanted. “Why do you want to know that?”
Alan and Jerald both tried to speak, their words tumbling over each other, until finally the woman held up her hands. “So you’re trying to find a girl who works for one of the travel agencies here in town?”
“Yes!” both men said.
“Let me see your paperwork.”
Jerald handed it over. She scanned it before walking to her desk. She sat down at her computer and a moment later, she wrote down the information and handed it to Jerald. “There’s the agency, their address, and their phone number.”
“Are they here in town?”
“Three blocks over that way.” She pointed.
The men ran for the door. Five minutes later, they stood in front of a scowling older woman who listened as Jerald told her they were looking for one of her employees.
Three other women worked in the office, none of them Daphne.
“No offense, gentlemen, but I don’t give out my employees’ personal information to two men who barge into my office.”
Jerald showed his official ID. “I’m retired, but you can call Florida and they’ll confirm who I am.”
She pursed her lips. “We don’t have anyone here by the name of Daphne anyway. You must have the wrong agency.”
Desperate, Jerald scanned the office again. One other desk, one the office manager hadn’t been sitting at, stood vacant. The nameplate read Jenny Hemingway.
That couldn’t be a coincidence. “Jenny Hemingway. Where is she? Can we talk to her?”
“She’s on vacation. And no, you may not. A moment ago you were looking for a girl named Daphne.”
“This is really important—”
“Leave now, before I call the police.”
Alan grabbed a business card from the counter and scribbled their cell numbers on the back of it. “We’re not getting reception in Yellowstone, but please, give this to Jenny and have her call us. Tell her to leave a voice mail. Please tell her yes, we do want to talk to her. She’ll know who we are and what it’s about.”
The woman reluctantly took the card. “All right.”
The men left, Jerald driving. “Back to Yellowstone?” Alan asked.
“Fuck no.” He stopped at a nearby real estate agency, got a free map of town, and returned to the car a moment later.
“Where are we going?”
“City hall. I want to see if there are any tax records in her name on file. That’ll give us an address.”
“You’re a fucking genius.”
Jerald grinned. “No, I was a fucking cop.”
* * * *
She tried to sleep and couldn’t. She needed to get out and do something. Anything. Outside of Yellowstone, to avoid running into the men. She packed a lunch and at daybreak drove east toward the Big Horn Mountains. She’d wanted to explore Shell Falls, had heard enough about it.
Might as well go do it.
Ironically, she didn’t fear going anywhere alone. There was almost a relief in her anonymity. If she disappeared forever, only the U.S. Marshals and maybe her boss would miss her.
There wasn’t anyone else left.
So this is what it feels like to really be alone.
All she could do now was to try to release the men in her heart. To let them go once and for all. They’d moved on, rightly so. She wished she could have seen Jerald one more time, though.
She tried to enjoy the day even though clouds rolled into the mountains surrounding the park, and a chilly mist that threatened to turn to drizzle dampened the trail around the falls. She’d packed a rain poncho and jacket, quickly learning the weather here wasn’t at all like Florida. She always went out prepared for anything.
Shell Falls was beautiful, definitely worth the drive. The scenery through the mountains was breathtaking in a different way than Yellowstone’s rugged serenity.
She thought she might return home after lunch, but then she remembered a paperback in her truck that she hadn’t finished yet.
Peaceful, calm, and with a sheltered bench where she could sit and read and stay dry, she decided to stay.
* * * *
Jerald tried the obvious first, but found no phone number listed for Jenny Hemingway in Cody, Wyoming.
Alan watched, his stomach tight with tension, as Jerald scrolled through the computer records in the property appraiser’s office. A moment later, his face erupted in a triumphant grin as he jotted information down. “Let’s go.”
Twenty minutes later they pulled into a driveway in front of a tiny house on a small, shaded lot. The neighborhood wasn’t the best, but not a slum, either.
“Jesus, that place is a freaking shoebox,” Alan said. “Can’t be more than eight hundred square feet, if that.”
“A single woman, in a small town like this, they’re not going to put her into some huge ranch house. She’s lucky she’s not in a trailer.” They raced up the front walk and rang the doorbell.
Nothing.
They knocked and waited, then knocked again.
They circled the house and saw no signs of life.
“How do we even know this is her place?” Alan asked as they returned to the car. “We don’t know for sure she really is Jenny Hemingway.”
Jerald looked at his phone, which had picked up service again upon their arrival in Cody. He scrolled through his files and found a picture he’d snapped of her and Alan, a picture he hadn’t looked at in months but couldn’t bear to delete. With Alan following, he left the car, walked to a neighbor’s house, and knocked on the front door.
An older man answered. He eyed them suspiciously. “Can I help you?”
Jerald smiled. “We’re looking for our cousin, Jenny Hemingway.” He held up the phone, displaying the picture. “We thought she said she lived next door, this is the address she gave us. We were supposed to meet up with her today, but she’s not home and not answering her cell.”
The man’s face relaxed as he looked at the picture, then at Alan’s friendly, smiling, hopeful face. “Looks like she’s coloring her hair now, huh?” He grinned. “My wife started dying hers the first time she spotted a grey hair. I don’t have the heart to tell her everyone knows it’s not her real hair color.”
Jerald forced himself to stay friendly and not beg the guy for information. “Yeah, she said we might not recognize her at first. We haven’t seen her in over a year, well before she moved out here. Do you know where she went or when she’ll be back? We came all the way from Florida. She promised to take us around the area, show us around Yellowstone since she works there part-time.”
“She loves that job. Don’t know how she finds the energy. Not a day off, she’s either at that travel agency or leaving here before dawn to drive over to the park. Probably costs her more money in gas to work there than she makes. Sorry, boys, can’t help you. You’re welcome to wait here if you want.”
“That’s all right, we appreciate it, though. We’ll just sit in our car and wait and keep trying her phone. Maybe we got our wires crossed about the time.”
“Maybe she hit the grocery store or something. I know she said she was taking a couple days off, but I don’t remember her mentioning you boys. Maybe she told my wife though.”
“We’ll keep trying her cell phone. Thanks.”
They returned to their rental and sat there for a moment. Jerald felt his whole body tremble. “It’s her,” he said before he looked at Alan. “We gonna get her back and take her home, or are we going to risk losing her again? I need to know what you want to do.”
“I want her back,” he softly said. “I want her home.”
Jerald nodded and started the car. “Okay, then we’re on the same page.” They ran through a discount store, got bottled water, snacks, and magazines to read. There was a small park across the street, so they parked where they could see her driveway and waited.
And waited.
They took a break to get a late lunch around four. By six, Alan wondered if this was such a good idea. He was about to suggest they give up and return to Yellowstone when they spotted a small pick-up truck slowing as it approached her house. It pulled into the driveway and parked. When the woman got out, both men launched themselves from their car and sprinted across the street, screaming her name.
Chapter Seventeen
Home again.
She hoped she hadn’t ruined the men’s vacation. She wondered if Alan would even tell Jerald he’d seen her, or if he’d remain silent and hold it in.
She wouldn’t blame him for not saying anything. She wished she’d never seen the paperwork, should have left well enough alone. Now the guys were probably upset.
I can’t do anything right.
She’d stopped by the grocery store on her way home, picked up a gallon of milk and other things she needed. Trying to juggle it all at once to avoid a second trip, she fumbled with her keys as she made her way up the walk.
“Daphne!”
She turned, startled, as two men ran across the street in the deepening gloom. At first fear set in. Had Paulie sent men to find her anyway, even this many months later?
Then she recognized them.
The gallon of milk slipped from her hands. The plastic jug exploded when it hit the walk, showering her shoes and jeans. The men splashed through the puddle and threw their arms around her.
They were both babbling so fast, talking over each other, that she couldn’t understand them. Her own shock compounded the matter. As they all sank to the milk-covered sidewalk, she realized they were telling her they loved her, begging her to come home.
At some point between crying, laughing, and telling them how sorry she was and that she loved them, Alan found her purse and keys and brought the rest of the groceries in. Jerald scooped her into his arms and carried her through the front door.
She heard Alan dump everything onto the kitchen counter, then he joined them on the tiny sofa.
Jerald kissed her, ran his hands through her hair. “Jesus, baby, I’m so fucking sorry—”
“I’m sorry,” she interrupted. “I should have read the letters, shouldn’t have gone.”
“We’re all sorry,” Alan interjected. “Now let’s all shut up and make up.”
She laughed and pulled him to her. He kissed her, a hungry, possessive need in him she never remembered feeling before. Like the men’s positions had been reversed and now Alan was the strength of the two.
Jerald got up from the couch. “There’s the bedroom.”
Alan stood and pulled her into his arms. “I hope you realize you aren’t getting away from us again.”
“I don’t want to get away.”
“Good.” He picked her up and carried her in. The men quickly stripped themselves and her and she wanted to cry again, only this time with happiness as they stretched out on either side of her in a bed that had suddenly gone from too big to extremely crowded with their arrival.
Thank god!
Jerald kissed her as Alan laced his fingers through hers. “You won’t get away again, baby,” Alan whispered in her ear, making her pleasantly shiver. He kissed the spot behind her ear that always melted her. “Never again.”
Jerald lifted his head and stared into her eyes. “Forever,” he whispered, his voice husky. “You’re ours.”
Alan kissed his way down her neck, along her collarbone to the hollow at the base of her throat. His tongue, sweet and scorching, drew a long moan from her, muffled by Jerald’s mouth over hers.
She tangled her fingers in Jerald’s hair as his tongue swept across hers. Alan wrapped his lips around her right nipple and lightly bit down, making her squirm. Then his fingers slipped between her legs. Her back arched as she tried to press her hips closer to his hand, wanting, needing him.
Jerald lifted his head and stared into her eyes. “I’ve missed you so much. I never thought I’d see you again.”
She didn’t want to cry again, but at least now they were happy tears. “Me too.”
Alan kissed her even as he slowly thrust his fingers inside her. “I can’t wait to get you home.”
“What’ll we do with this place?” she finally managed to ask.
“We can sell it, rent it, or keep it as a vacation home.”
“I want to show you Yellowstone,” she said. “I want to be the one to show you around the park.”
He traced her lips with his. “We have plenty of time for that, babe. All I care about right now is making love to you.”
Jerald groaned. “I didn’t get any rubbers.”
“That’s okay,” she breathlessly said after she pried her lips from Alan’s again. “I’m on the Pill.”