Trouble Me: A Rosewood Novel (2 page)

Several guests were huddled around the reception desk, asking questions about breakfast and airport shuttles and what might entertain the kids if it was too wet to go to the beach tomorrow and God knew what else, while she shivered slightly in the chill of the air-conditioning and left wet footprints on the plush maroon carpeting. Finally the last guest ambled happily toward the bank of elevators and she stepped up to the desk. Dropping her duffel bag and placing her ultra-sweet Prada hobo bag (a graduation present from Margot) on top of the wooden counter, she smiled at the black-jacketed receptionist.

“May I help you?”

The man was in his mid-thirties and looked as if he’d been on duty for a while—in other words, tired and harassed. He also wore a wedding ring. Deciding that he didn’t look the type to hit on her, she gave him a friendly smile. “Yes, please. I’d like a room for the night.”

“Do you have a reservation?”

“I’m afraid not.”

He expelled a breath. “I’ll have to check whether anything’s available. We’ve had a crazy week with two conferences going on. On top of that, a large wedding party arrived today.”

“I really hope you have something. I’ve been on the road all day, driving up from Florida.”

He looked up, his brows raised in surprise. “Florida?”

Jade nodded. “From Ocala. I’m heading to Warburg. The storm started somewhere in North Carolina, and then there was a pretty bad accident about twenty miles south of here. That’s when I realized it might be smart to call it a night. I Googled hotels in the area and yours had the best reviews. I’d like to avoid getting back in the car if at all possible.” Dragging her soaked hair from her face, she gave him another cheerful smile, as if she had no doubt he’d do everything in his power to help her.

Margot and Jordan would never guess how much she’d picked up from them when it came to the art of sweet-talking. It definitely had its uses. Like now.

“Well, you’re in luck,” he announced happily. “We do have a room. It has a king-size bed, water views.”

She didn’t give a fig about the view, since she’d be on her way to Rosewood at first light, but a big bed would be heaven after the lumpy twin bunk bed she’d been assigned in Ocala.

“That sounds perfect.” Jade was already reaching into her bag. “Here’s my credit card. Do you need my driver’s license too?”

“Yes, and the license-plate number of your car, please.”

As Jade waited for him to take down her information, the notes of a Rob Thomas song reached her. Turning her head toward the source, she saw couples wandering into a softly lit area.

“The bar looks nice.”

His eyes still fixed on the computer, the receptionist nodded. “It’s got a dance floor, and Chaz, our DJ, plays good music. On a night like this, the guests really appreciate having a nightspot they don’t have to drive to. Plenty of Norfolk residents like to come here for a night of dancing. Here you go, Miss Radcliffe.” He handed back her ID and credit card as well as another plastic card. “This is your electronic key. Your room number is 412. Take the elevator to the fourth floor and turn right down the hallway. The room will be on your right. Do you need help with your luggage?”

“No, thanks, I’ve got it.”

He smiled. “Then have a good night.”

“After nearly thirteen hours on the road, I’m going to sleep like a baby.”

After dumping her duffel bag in the corner, Jade dutifully rang Margot, letting herself fall back onto the king-size mattress as she said, “Hi, sis. I’m here, safe and sound.”

“You got a room?”

“Yeah, but the only one they had left was the honeymoon suite. It’s a thousand bucks a night, but the champagne’s free, so you didn’t come out too badly.” She grinned up at the ceiling.

“Ha. So in addition to getting your instructor certification, you’ve been fine-tuning your comedy act.”

“Yup. Nice to know motherhood hasn’t turned your brain to Swiss cheese.”

“If my brain could survive your teen years intact, I should be safe.”

“I was prepping you. Now you’re ready for anything.”

“Thanks,” Margot replied drily. “The room’s okay?”

“It’s got a great bed. Nice and firm.” She jounced on it again for good measure.

“Well, get a good rest, sweetie. You must be wiped out after such a long drive.”

Strangely enough, now that she’d gotten horizontal, Jade was wide awake, twitchy with adrenaline. But knowing her sister would like to think of her curled up and sleeping as blissfully as Georgie and Will, she replied with a noncommittal “Mmm-hmm.”

“We’ll all be waiting for you, and so will the cinnamon raisin bagels. Sleep tight, Jade.”

“You too, sis.” Pressing the
OFF
button, she sprang up from the bed and began stripping out of her still-damp clothes. A hot shower might do the trick and relax her.

She faced facts after she’d dried her hair with the blow-dryer provided by the hotel. She was more awake than ever, and if she tried to sleep now, she’d drive herself insane tossing and turning.

She was also kind of hungry. There was room service, but then she thought of the bar downstairs. She could go down and have a drink and relax and munch on a few salted peanuts and potato chips. They’d balance out the M&M’s and Twizzlers and Reese’s Pieces she’d consumed along with her Red Bulls and iced coffees. And it’d be fun to go to a bar in Virginia legally. After getting busted with a fake ID, she’d steered clear of Warburg’s bars, convinced that if she made one false step, a particularly scary cop would somehow appear, all wrath and righteousness, to nail her butt. But now that she’d almost reached the ripe old age of twenty-two, she figured she could walk into a bar without glancing over her shoulder. There were definite advantages to growing up.

Dropping her towel, she went over to her duffel bag and dug out a bra, a pair of undies, her white jeans, and a Jean Paul Gaultier chiffon tank, which Margot had been given on one of her modeling shoots but decided looked better on Jade than it did on her. She also grabbed the only semi-dressy shoes she’d packed for Florida: a
pair of high-heeled sandals—another hand-me-down from Margot.

Having a fashion model for an older sister, who just happened to wear the same size from head to toe, was pretty darned fantastic. Economical too. Second-grade-teacher pay scales couldn’t cover Jean Paul Gaultier or Christian Louboutin sandals.

The steady stream of designer rags and trimmings wasn’t likely to run dry either. Even though Margot had two kids and had announced her semiretirement, her agent, Damien Barnes, continued to receive requests for her. That she was still in high demand in the fashion world came as a surprise only to Margot. In Jade’s opinion, Margot was more beautiful than ever. Jordan was too, for that matter. Happiness could do that.

Dressed, Jade dragged a brush through her hair and applied some lip gloss. Grabbing her handbag and room key, she headed down to the hotel’s bar to have a nice relaxing drink.

Rob Cooper nursed a bourbon on the rocks and cast baleful glances at the bar’s rain-streaked windows. The storm hadn’t diminished in intensity. And from the looks of it, the front had stalled directly over Virginia, which was damned annoying since the most interesting sessions at the law-enforcement conference he’d been attending had ended earlier, as had his dinner spent catching up with Phil Reynolds, a buddy from their days at the police academy.

There was nothing to do but to wait out the storm in the hotel bar. When it started to move, Rob would too. His weekend bag was packed and already in the trunk of his car. He was itching to get home. But driving through a storm when there was an advisory posted was not a risk he was about to take when he had Hayley to consider.

Strictly speaking, he didn’t need to be back in Warburg tonight; his room was booked through tomorrow. His sister, Emma, was babysitting. She and her very-soon-to-be seven-year-old niece had events planned right through Sunday. Hayley had been talking for days about one of the weekend’s highlights: an all-things-horsey movie fest. She’d personally compiled the list.

Driving over to Emma’s, Hayley had been bouncing in the backseat as she rattled off titles.

“First Aunt Emma and I are going to watch
The Black Stallion
and then
The Black Stallion Returns
. After that, it’ll be
National Velvet
and
Into the West
and—”

“Hidalgo.”

“Uh-huh. And maybe
My Friend Flicka
too.”

He’d glanced at her in the rearview mirror. She was glowing with excitement. “You know, if you get tired of watching movies about horses, there are some great—”

“Daddy!” Hayley’s cry was accompanied by a disbelieving roll of her brown eyes. The very notion that Hayley Elizabeth Cooper might ever tire of anything horse-related was beyond absurd.

No sooner had they pulled in front of the doll-size ranch that Emma was renting on Stonewall Lane than Hayley bounded out of the car with her backpack that they’d packed the night before. It was crammed not only with her clothes, toothbrush, hairbrush, and hair elastics but also with Lucky, her stuffed pony, who slept in her arms every night, and with four of her favorite Breyer horses.

As Rob had knelt down, Hayley rushed toward him and, dropping the backpack by his feet, threw her arms about his neck and gave him a loud smooch on the cheek. “Bye, Daddy.”

“Bye, Hayley. You be good, okay? And go to sleep when Aunt Emma asks.”

The silk of her hair rubbed his face as she nodded.
Then she was cantering off up the walkway like a little girl–centaur, just as Emma came out the front door to greet them.

“Who are you riding today, Hayley?”

Rob watched Hayley rein her imaginary pony to a trot. “Ginger.”

“Well, the jumps are still set up in the backyard,” Emma told her. The week before, she and Hayley had fashioned jumps using tipped-over lawn chairs and a collection of brooms, mops, and garden rakes. So far, Hayley’s horses hadn’t shied at any of them. They were that well trained, his daughter had explained proudly. “Once you’ve finished riding, we can go shopping for dinner.”

“Okay. Bye, Daddy. Have a good time at your conference,” Hayley called again, and, without further ado, his daughter made a clucking noise and her short, tanned legs picked up a canter, carrying her around the back of the house.

“I thought little girls liked to play with dolls and makeup or do gymnastics all over the lawn,” he said, walking up the path with Hayley’s bag.

His sister nodded. “Mmm-hmm. And then there are the ones who love horses. You might want to consider signing her up for riding lessons.” She took Hayley’s backpack from him and slung it over her shoulder. “It’d be a nice birthday present.”

“I was thinking I might wait and see if her interest fades.” More than half the population of Warburg rode horses, but Rob wasn’t sure how he felt about his little daughter getting involved in the sport. He wished he’d looked more carefully into the activities available at the camp Becky’s parents had chosen for Hayley when she’d gone to stay with them for three weeks earlier in the summer. He hadn’t realized it offered horseback riding as well as swimming and crafts. Not that it would have mattered. He wanted Becky’s family to have a say in
Hayley’s life too, and it would have hurt their feelings if he’d torpedoed their choice of a summer camp.

“Don’t hold your breath, Rob.”

To tell the truth, he wasn’t all that optimistic about Hayley’s love of horses fading anytime soon either. She was a passionate little girl, fiercely loyal and just as stubborn. “You’re probably right. I’ll ask around about riding lessons.”

“Good,” Em said simply. “So, you off?”

“Yeah, after I drop by the station. Scott said he had something for me. If the traffic’s not bad, I should be in Norfolk around seven. I’ll call when I’ve reached the hotel.” He dug his wallet out of his khaki pants and pulled out some bills. Emma was working as an instructor at the fitness studio in town while she finished her college degree. Though she loved the job, the pay wasn’t going to make her rich anytime soon. “Here’s money for groceries and any extras. I’ll be back—”

“Sunday afternoon,” she answered for him.

“I was toying with the idea of driving back Saturday night—”

“Don’t. We have a ton of stuff planned—Hayley wants to go back-to-school shopping for new sneakers, so I’m really glad you gave me way too much money—and Mom and Dad want some quality time with her.”

“But you’ve got work.”

“Scott’s around too. He’s going to take Hayley out for pancakes after they walk Dexter. You know how she loves that. You’ll only be cramping our style if you come back early.” Perhaps catching something in his expression, she said, “Rob, you’re doing a great job of being a single parent. Hayley’s a terrific, well-adjusted kid. But she won’t stay well adjusted if you don’t start getting a life that encompasses a wee bit more than her and the Warburg police force. Why don’t you take advantage of your trip to relax and have a little fun? Because, really, none of
us want to see your ugly mug until Sunday afternoon.” She gave him her sternest look. “Got the message?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

On his way out of town, he’d stopped by the police station and found Scott in the locker room, changing into his workout clothes. It took about twenty seconds for him to realize that his little sister and older brother must have decided on a two-pronged attack. She’d talk about how there was more to life than raising Hayley; Scott would focus on his favorite subject—getting laid. His brother obviously had decided to address the topic of Rob’s sex life—or lack thereof—head-on.

Spotting Rob, Scott turned back to his locker, grabbed something off the top shelf, and said, “Here, a going-away present.”

Rob stared at the foil packages in his palm. “Gee, Scott. I’m touched, really touched. But I’m not sure you want to give up a single one of these. What’s the new one’s name? Mandy? Candy? Sandy? Dandy?” He drew his brows together.

“Randy,” Scott supplied with a grin. “As in Miranda Taylor, who was a year ahead of you in school. And though Randy is very enthusiastic, I think I can spare these for a good cause and, man, are you ever in need.”