Too Hot To Trot (#3, Cowboy Way) (21 page)

“No, it could be worse,” she replied, with a huffed breath as they stopped at the elevator and he pushed the button.  “If one of those girls tells me he did that to them too, I might look him up and kill him. Then I’d really be in a fix, wouldn’t I?” Her hollow laugh echoed through the empty lobby.

“No killing, sweet thing—we’re going to kill him in
court
.  Send his ass to prison and let those inmates deal with him.  Not only will he be a former cop in prison, he’ll be a convicted child molester.  If he makes it through his sentence, I’d be surprised.”

Her eyes flew up to meet Zack’s.  “You really think so?”

“I don’t know firsthand, but I’ve definitely heard stories and seen movies,” he replied, as he guided her into the elevator.  “He better bring his Vaseline on that prison bus with him, or he’s going to be in a world of hurt.”

Heather laughed as she watched the numbers overhead and a mental picture formed.  The lead in her chest softened, replaced by determination to find those girls, the determination Zack said she should have.  Zack always knew what to say to make her feel better, she thought, as she circled her arms around his back and hugged him.  “Thanks for always talking me off the ledge, cowboy,” she mumbled into his shirt.

He looked down at her, his eyes intense.  “We’re on that ledge together, sweet thing.  You’re not alone now.”

Not alone.  Together
.  Those words, his arms around her, and that woodsy scent of his banished her fear.  She inhaled deeply, stood taller and walked beside him with determined strides to the hotel room door.  No matter what happened, the chance to love this man, the first man she’d ever let get close enough to love, made everything worthwhile.  If she died tomorrow, she would thank God she’d been given the chance to know Zack Taylor, to love him, because that gift had allowed her to clear the darkness from her heart that had resided there so long, to know what it felt like to love someone, and have them care about her.

Three hours later, she’d made about twenty of the calls on the list of one-hundred-twenty names, and only talked to five girls and one mother.  The rest she’d left messages asking for return calls.  Of the ones she’d spoken to, the general consensus was Officer Jack Thomas was a rude butthead, but not one of them admitted to any inappropriate touching, or advances.

Finishing the task seemed like it was going to take forever, even with Zack reading the names and numbers to her.  She heard him yawn, looked up, and he grinned at her as he sat the paper down on the bed to stretch his arms over his head.  The look in his eyes as they dropped to her breasts caused a shiver. 

“Time for a lunch break,” he announced, crawling over the bed to kneel in front of her and drop a slow, delicious kiss on her mouth.  Heather’s fingers loosened, and the phone dropped to the bed, as she put her arms around his neck, opened her mouth and kissed him back.  She couldn’t think of anything she wanted more for lunch, she thought, sliding her fingers into his hair to hold him closer. 

His laugh filtered into her mouth as he pulled back.  “
Real
lunch, but I’d definitely be on board with dessert later,” he drawled, his eyes glittering as he dropped a leg off the bed to stand.  “What do you want from the café? Your usual?”

She had a usual?  “Um, a burger would be good.”

“Not the Ruben?” he asked, his eyebrow up.

Heather thought back, and realized that is what she’d ordered for the last few days.  That he noticed, remembered, made her heart squeeze.  “The Rueben would be good too.”

“Extra kraut, easy on the dressing?” he asked, surprising her more.  Then he winked.  “I’ll have them cut the crust off the bread, and cut it in half to save you the trouble.”

Heather was speechless, and Zack laughed as he put on his boots and hat, then walked to the door.  “Come lock this door.  I’ll be gone at least thirty minutes, probably longer since it’s noon, but the food at that diner is definitely worth it.”  She eased off the bed to walk over to the door.  Zack tipped his hat back, dropped one more kiss on her mouth, then walked out.  She only heard him walk away after she flipped the upper safety bar on the door.

Leaning against the door, she covered her sob with her hand.  Lord have mercy, how in the world was she
ever
going to let him go?  Her life before she met him, really knew him, now seemed so far away.  That life had been so out-of-control, she was on edge every minute of every day, watching her back every minute.  Going back to living like that was a damned terrifying thought.  A knock on the door had her spinning around.  Thinking Zack had changed his mind and come back for dessert first, she turned the knob and pulled it open.  The upper latch caught, and it was a good thing, because the person outside the door put his shoulder into it with a grunt. 

A scream froze in her throat, as Heather stumbled back when the door rattled violently.  Leaning to the right her eyes slid up the door crack, past a black scarf, until they met the flat, black and very angry eyes of Jack Thomas. 

“Open the goddamn door,
bitch
!” he growled, breathing hard as he rammed the door again and it rattled.  “I just got a call from a friend who told me you’re snooping where you don’t belong to try to press charges against
me
?!?”  He rattled the door once more, harder. 

Heather’s heart pounded in her ears, and fear paralyzed her as her legs hit the nightstand where the phone was.  Her hand knocked the receiver off the base it was shaking so badly, her whole body was shaking, but she somehow managed to pick up the receiver and put it to her ear. 

“You better think again, skank!” he shouted gruffly through the door crack, as his long, thick fingers appeared there to grip the inside of the door.  “If you don’t back off you’re going to be in a world of hurt—I
know
people who can make
sure
you stop.”

After three shaky tries, Heather managed to press the zero on the phone, held the receiver in a death grip to her ear as she heard it ring six times.  The clerk finally answered, and she croaked, “I need security to room four-seventy now!  Someone is trying to break in.”  Heather said it loudly to make sure Jack heard, and knew he had when his hand slid from the door crack. 

“
Think
again, bitch—
think
or you’ll die!” he growled, before the door slacked to bounce on the frame.  She heard a loud punch to a metal door down the hall, which meant he was taking the stairs.  “Are you still there ma’am?” the frantic clerk asked, breathing hard as he came back on the line.  “Security is on the way up and I’ve called the police…stay on the phone with me.”

“He took the stairwell, I think,” she informed weakly, around the bile in her throat.

Zack please come back
, she prayed, with tears gathering in her eyes. 
I need you.  B
ecause right now I want to run as far away as I can go.  I don’t want you to lose your ranch, or leave you, but I have to get away from Jack Thomas.  And there are more just like him on the way, his buddies. 

I know people who can make sure you stop.

Heather’s blood ran cold, and tears clouded her vision.  “I’m so sorry, cowboy,” she whispered, grabbing her cell phone and the file folder off the end of the bed, as she stumbled toward the door.  She’d take the elevator, walk right out the front door, because she knew Jack would never do that.  He stuck to the shadows to terrorize his victims so he didn’t get caught.  He wasn’t going to catch her though, because Heather knew where the shadows were the darkest.

Chapter Twenty

The counter lady at the deli finally slid the brown paper bag back across the counter to Zack, and he snatched it up with a growl.  “Y’all have to kill the chicken for my sandwich?”

“Took a bit to cut that thick crust off,” she replied with a shrug.  “You order special during lunch rush, and it takes a while.”

“Thank you,” Zack said, slapping a twenty-dollar bill down on the counter.  Without waiting for change, he stalked to the door.  Lunch rush was one thing, but waiting an hour to get a fucking sandwich made was another, he thought, as he flung open the car door, got inside and cranked the rental car then pushed buttons to have the GPS guide him back to the hotel. 

Why he had this damned feeling of tightness in his chest that started as soon as he pulled out of the parking lot of the hotel, Zack didn’t know.  But he needed to get back there, and Heather was probably worried about him anyway.  He’d been gone almost two hours now, and they had work to do.  That list was not going to call itself, and Heather was slow because she was scared.  Regardless of what Randall said, Zack might take over and help her with the calling after they ate.  They needed to make progress soon, because he needed to get back home, get stock contracts for next season lined up—and deal with his fence problem.

Austin was frustrated, said the back fencing needed to be fixed soon, or he was going to have to move on.  He was put out with having to get up in the middle of the night, or leave his second job as a volunteer firefighter-medic to chase bulls on the neighbor’s property.  Well, when he got home Zack was going to tell
Austin
chasing those bulls, taking care of them for him, was his first job, should be his priority.  If that couldn’t be his first concern, no matter how good he was with the herd, he was going to have to become a full-time fireman, because Zack didn’t need him or his damned bitching about doing his job.  Even though Austin had saved his life at the rodeo the night that thug cut him, Zack wasn’t putting up with it. 

Yeah, it was really strange, but when he arrived, Zack recognized his new ranch hand right away as the medic who had treated him in that back parking lot at the rodeo, saved his life.  Zack was glad for the opportunity to finally thank him.  Maybe he’d gone overboard, and that’s why his ranch hand felt so comfortable bitching to him, thought nothing of letting his second job interfere with managing the herd.

It wasn’t all Austin’s fault though, Zack knew that putting up the final strand of electric fence at the back of the south pasture would solve the problem.  It was the only strand they hadn’t gotten up before the herd was delivered.  Whether he could afford it or not, Zack needed to face the fact that he was just going to have to bite the bullet and pay to have someone finish it, because he wasn’t about to try it himself.  He had taken the doctor’s words seriously the last time.  The last thing he needed was to lose mobility in his arm permanently.  He’d even brought the ball and a weight with him on this trip to do his exercises.  Heather made sure he’d packed it.  And he hated to admit it, but his arm was getting a lot better.

I love y—your determination. 
He’d been thinking about that since she said it, the way she said it and her damned eyes.  Those gorgeous cat eyes said I love
you
, even though her words were different.  Or he thought they did.  Fuck, he didn’t know that for sure.  It could be wishful thinking on his part.  If Heather would just say the damned words, he could tell her how he felt.  Because he wasn’t going there until she did.  No—he wasn’t going there even if she did, until this was over.  They needed their focus right now.  Something very special was going on between them, but now was not the time to muddy the waters with that.  When he told her how he felt, it would be the right time, and she would be focused on him.  Not saving her ass.

Zack pulled into the parking lot at the hotel thirty minutes later and found Tulsa cop cars everywhere.  His heart skidded to a stop as he swung the rental car into a parking spot.  The ambulance parked under the canopy near the front door kept it flatlined, as he left the sandwiches to open the car door and sprint toward the front door of the hotel. 

Something was wrong with Heather, he could feel it. 
God, please let her be okay
. 

He shoved spectators aside, to push through the glass doors then his eyes quickly scanned the packed lobby for Heather.  He didn’t see her, so with an ounce of relief, he went to the elevator.  He didn’t wait for the car that seemed to be stuck on the fourth floor, he ran to the stairs and pushed through the metal door.  Taking two steps at a time he ran up the four flights then stopped on the landing to catch his breath, get his clawing fear under control. 

Zack didn’t want to be freaked out when he saw her, because that would freak her out.  This could be nothing more than a safety drill, but deep down in his gut he knew it wasn’t.  On a final deep breath, Zack shoved the metal bar on the door and walked into the hallway.  Toward the end of the hall, very close to their room, two cops stood in the hallway talking.  He couldn’t see their door as he casually strode toward them, but when he did, it was standing wide open, and he knew.  This wasn’t a drill, and they were here because something had happened with Heather.  And he was as sorry as he’d ever been in his life.  He should never have left her, not even for a minute.  His stomach lurched, his heart pounded in his ears, and fear like he’d never known before flowed through his veins.  Kicking his stride up to a jog, then a full run, Zack zoned in on that door.

“Hold up, buddy,” one of the officers growled, grabbing Zack’s arm as he tried to go into the room.  The other cop took his right arm, jerked it up behind his back and Zack moaned as pain sliced through him, almost bringing him to his knees.

“My fucking arm is hurt, let me go!” he shouted, but they didn’t let him go.

“What’s your business here?” the first officer growled, pulling him back upright.

“Heather Morrison is my business—that room is
mine.
”
And so is she
!  Zack gritted his teeth against the frustration, and the fear that was as intense as the white hot pain in his bicep.  “Let my fuc—
arm
go, and I’ll show you my license,
please
!” 

The first cop, the one who didn’t have his arm up behind his back, turned him loose to pat the pockets of his jeans.  His fingers dipped into Zack’s back pocket, and he felt his wallet slide out.  The cop flipped it open under Zack’s nose, studied his license, then flipped it shut.  Zack saw him nod at the other cop whose grip eased then his arm was lowered to his side.  Zack rubbed it for a second, then grabbed his wallet back and shoved it into his pocket. 

“Where’s Heather?” Zack asked gruffly.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.  We were called on a disturbance, and the room was vacant when we got here,” the first officer informed.  “We’re not sure if she was kidnapped, or if she left on her own.  The hotel manager is pulling the security camera footage.”

Fear and adrenaline made a toxic stew in Zack’s blood, his knees tried to buckle, but the cop grabbed his arm to hold him up.  “You okay?”

“No, I’m not okay.  We need to find that footage, and find her.  She could be in danger,” Zack said shortly.  “There’s some stuff going on.”

“What kind of
stuff
?” the cop asked, his eyebrows slamming down over his intense stare.

Zack considered his options, quickly decided that it would be unsafe and stupid for him to tell this man what Heather was involved in.  Jack Thomas was a cop, and any of these men could be his friends.  That could put her in more danger.  He needed to find out what happened here, so he went on the offensive, instead of answering.  “What happened exactly?” he asked calmly.

“You answer my question, and I’ll answer yours,” the cop replied shortly.

Chess.  A game Zack had never been good at.  But Heather’s life could depend on him finding her.  “Family issues.  She’s having some trouble with her stepfather.”

The cop’s eyes sparked with interest.  “We were called because someone was trying to break into this room.  A woman was inside, and a man was trying to force his way in.  Think it’s a possibility it may have been her stepfather?”

More than that, it was the
only
possibility.  “Yes, I do.  And if she’s gone because he took her, she could be in very grave danger, so we need to find her fast.”

“I’m on my way down,” the officer said into the mic on his shoulder.  “Come with me,” he said walking toward the elevator, and Zack followed.  Downstairs, he led Zack to a door on the side of the reservation counter and knocked.  It was opened by a very large man, six-foot-four at least.  The guy’s dark eyes met Zack’s and narrowed, and the hair on the back of his neck bristled as he brushed past him into the room where three other policemen sat at a computer reviewing grainy film footage.

“This is totally strange—there’s two weeks of footage, but that fifteen minutes is black,” the cop manning the keyboard in front of the computer said with frustration.  He clicked the mouse, and the footage reversed swiftly.

Another guy in a suit leaned over his shoulder to watch the video again with him.  “The parking lot is clear too—it’s like she vanished.”

“I’m telling you she’s on the run again—nothing happened.  Haley is very good at fabricating lies to cover herself, and she’s a runner.  We need to find her so she can be put in jail until her trial,” a very deep voice boomed from behind him, and Zack spun.  It was the big guy, and Zack knew right then he was looking into that flat, black snake eyes of Jack Thomas.

It was confirmed when the cop in the suit, obviously a detective, turned to look at Jack with a frown.  “Jack what the hell are you doing here?  I told you a witness across the hall verified there was a disturbance.  She didn’t see the guy’s face, because he had a scarf over his face and wore a cap, but she heard the yelling, saw him putting his shoulder into the door.  This isn’t your beat, man—just go back to juvie and let us do our thing.”

“It’s not my beat, but that bit—
girl
put a knife in my side, so I’d say I have something to be concerned over.  She’s on the loose, and could show up on my doorstep.  I also want to see her get what’s coming to her.”

Zack couldn’t breathe he was so mad, but he knew if he put his fist into this bastard’s smug face like he wanted to, he’d end up in jail and Jack Thomas would win.  Heather would be at his mercy then. 

She must’ve been fucking terrified when this man showed up at the hotel room door, terrorized when he tried to rape her at fifteen.  But she’d stood up to this Goliath, stabbed him, and kept him from finding her for twelve years.  The fact that he was standing here right now meant that he didn’t have her, she’d thwarted the bastard again.  That was the only thing that kept him from going with his urge to kill Jack Thomas.  Heather was somewhere close, hiding from this man, and Zack needed to get out of here and find her. 

Calmly, he turned toward the men at the computer.  “I have some things to do, but I’d like to give you my cell number.  I’d appreciate it if you called me if you find out anything.”

“Don’t forget you need to talk to Terrance, before you leave,” the cop who escorted him into the room said, putting his hand on Zack’s arm. “I think he needs to know about the trouble she’s had with her stepfather,” he added, and the low-pitched growl Zack heard behind him froze his heart in his chest.

He peeled the officer’s fingers from his arm, and stepped around him.  “I’m leaving, because I have things to do, and can’t wait around.  If he’s interested in talking to me, I can give you my phone number—
outside
.”  Zack needed to get out of this room, because the walls felt like they were closing in on him, and so was the explosive anger he had on a very short leash.  Shoving Jack Thomas aside with his shoulder he reached for the doorknob, but Jack’s beefy hand closed around Zack’s left arm. 

Oh, please you son-of-a-bitch, hit me. 
Zack said the words with his eyes, as he grabbed the knob and waited.  He held Jack Thomas’s angry gaze, also telling the man he wanted a piece of him worse than he’d ever wanted to fight anyone in his life.  He might be big, but evidently he only picked on defenseless girls, because his hand dropped from Zack’s arm. 

And wasn’t that too damned bad?

“Fucking coward,” Zack mumbled under his breath, as he twisted the knob and opened the door.  He breathed again once he was in the lobby, but his chest didn’t loosen until he pushed through the front door.  He’d not only left the sandwiches in the car a while ago, he’d left his fucking cell phone.  He hoped like hell Heather had taken hers with her, and she’d called. 

When he reached the car, Zack got behind the wheel, but as he cranked the car his eyes drifted up to a light pole across the street.  From his vantage point, it looked like that camera was aimed directly at the parking lot.  Unless Jack Thomas had a room key, he could only have gone in the front entrance of the hotel.  That meant the camera would have gotten him going inside the hotel, probably recorded him pulling into the parking lot.  If that video had a time on it, like the one the officers inside were looking at, then that bastard was busted.

Maybe he would talk to
Terrance
right now.  Alone.  Zack got back out of the car, and slammed the door as he headed back inside.