You're Still the One (15 page)

              A thin-faced man peered out from behind the glass. "May I help you?"

              Rick touched her elbow, then let go as if he hadn't meant to touch her. She swallowed a sting of hurt and walked with him toward the counter.

              She smiled at the clerk. "I wondered if you'd had anyone waiting for a money wire this morning?"

              Rick slid Grace's photo across the counter and through the space underneath the glass. "This woman."

              "Yeah." The man, whose name tag read Cody, looked to be around thirty. His long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. His hazel eyes were curious as he studied the picture. "A woman named Grace. She had blond hair, though, not dark. She took off quite a while ago. Said she couldn't wait any longer."

              "How long ago did she leave?" Rick asked.

              The guy pursed his lips as he returned the picture. "More than an hour, probably two."

              Katie stuck the photo in the side pocket of her purse. "Did she ask you to forward the money wire anywhere if it came in?"

              "We can't do that. She just murmured something under her breath and flew out of here."

              "Did you happen to notice her car?" Rick asked.

              "No, I sure didn't. The man's gaze slid to Rick, and he leaned forward. "She acted like she needed that money pretty bad."

              Evidently Rick didn't feel the need to elaborate. He simply asked, "And she didn't give a phone number in case the wire came in?"

              "Nope."

              "Do you remember what she was wearing?" Katie asked.

              "Oh, yeah." A grin split the man's pinched features. "A lime green zebra shirt. Tight."

              Katie rolled her eyes, but Rick gave the guy a half smile. "Thanks. Do you have a phone book we could look at for a minute?"

              "Sure." The man pointed at a small worktable, which held a phone book, phone, stapler and a box of paper clips.

              Katie walked with Rick to the table. "What are you doing?"

              "Looking up hotels." He flipped to the business listings. "I don't think there's any sense in waiting around here. We can check out the hotels in town, then swing back. If she comes in, Check Boy there will tell her we were here. She'll wait."

              "Yes. There's no way she'd leave without this money."

              Several minutes later, after making a copy of the single page that listed the hotels in Winfield, they thanked the man and told him Grace might show up again. If so, would he ask her to wait? The man agreed.

              Rick held the door for Katie, and she walked past him, more aware than she liked of the strong hand holding the door, the corded forearm bared by rolled sleeves. Once outside, he slid his sunglasses on, hiding his eyes. His features closed, his jaw set, he looked intimidating. And unfamiliar.

              "She'll call." She suddenly felt the urge to fill silence that had followed them all the way from Oklahoma City. "She won't be happy that I didn't wire the money."

              "Maybe we'll hear from her soon." He unlocked the 'Vette's door and opened it for her.

              Once in the car, he circled the block, then turned the opposite direction down Center Street. The town stretched about four miles along the busy main street. The first hotel was a little over a mile through town, on the other side of the highway overpass. They drove past fast-food restaurants, a tire store, a statuary, several florists.

              The Winfield Inn resembled an old English cottage. Made of light stucco and dark timbers, it boasted the same old world charm as the downtown area. Inside, they spoke to a reservations clerk. The young woman didn't recognize the photos of either Grace or Tommy, but she offered to fax the pictures to the night manager, who was at home. The night manager didn't recognize them, either.

              Katie thanked the woman and walked out with Rick, fighting irritation. Where was Grace? Had she led them on a wild goose chase? "She never could stay anywhere longer than a minute."

              Hands braced on his hips, Rick surveyed the long avenue of businesses, the steady stream of noon-hour traffic. "If she's here, we'll find her."

              "She's here," Katie said quickly, running a hand through her hair. "She's probably just getting me back for not sending that money right away. Too bad. I've been waiting on her, worried out of my mind."

              Rick turned his head and looked at her, his dark eyebrows arching.

              "What?"

              A small smile tugged at his lips. "Tough looks good in you."

              She waved him off, walked to the car, but she couldn't squelch her smile. Nor could she dismiss the warmth his words sent through her. For the first time since last night, he'd said something personal, and it had been a compliment. She thought she'd long ago outgrown the need for male approval, but evidently approval from Rick was different.

              There were five more hotels in town, and they checked them all. Finally, at the last one, the desk clerk who'd just come on his shift recognized both Tommy and Grace. "Sure, they stayed here. Checked out early this morning."

              Katie, who'd been turning away in anticipation of failure, pivoted. "How long were they here?"

              "Just the one night."

              "Did they register as Mr. and Mrs. Tommy Harrington?" Rick slid off his glasses, shifted to make room for Katie as she stepped up to the counter.

              "No." The older man typed something into his computer, then looked up. "Mr. and Mrs. Anderson."

              Katie shared a look with Rick, who nodded to show he recognized her mother's maiden name.

              "Thanks." Rick took her elbow and guided her outside. This time, he didn't seem to notice he was touching her.

              "So now what?" Kit's arm burned with the imprint of his fingers.

              "We definitely know they've been here. We know Grace was at Check It Out a couple of hours ago."

              "We know she wouldn't leave town without that money," Katie offered.

              "Probably. Unless something happened."

              "Like Henderson?"

              "Maybe. I haven't spotted anyone following us since we left Oklahoma City, but that doesn't mean Henderson didn't get a line on Grace and Tommy."

              He let go of her to slide the sunglasses on. She could feel his gaze, intense and penetrating, from behind the reflective lenses, and she fought the urge to squirm.

              He walked toward the 'Vette. "I think we should check in with the police."

              "There's no way Grace or Tommy would go there." Sunlight bounced off the car's hood, shimmered in the lenses of Rick's glasses.

              "If we're going to find them before Henderson's goons do, we need to spread the word about them."

              Katie nodded, determinedly shoving away her admiration of the way his broad shoulders filled out the soft denim of his shirt, the way his jeans molded sleekly to his long legs. She settled into the car.

              He drove the way they'd come, into downtown Winfield, past Check It Out and pulled up in front of a white-painted brick building that took up about half a city block. Black stencilling on its front identified it as the Winfield Police Department.

              A pair of glass doors led them into a small tiled entry with an elevator. Cool air swirling around them, they walked through another set of glass doors to their left and past a row of chairs lined up against the wall.

              A petite, gray-haired woman smiled at them from behind a tall sheet of bulletproof glass that stretched from wall to wall. In a small alcove to Katie's right was a door marked Personnel Only.

              Rick fished his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans and nudged it through the bowl-shaped opening beneath the glass. "Hi, I'm a private investigator from Oklahoma, and I wondered if I could talk to your duty sergeant?"

              The woman flipped open his wallet, studied his license then picked up the phone close to her right hand. After she hung up, she said, "Sergeant Clark will be right out."

              A few minutes later, the door marked Personnel Only opened. A tall, lanky man with shrewd eyes and the freckled face of a farm boy identified himself as Sergeant Clark and invited them back. Rick put the man's age close to his own thirty-two.

              Open doors, marked with name plaques, lined both sides of a long corridor. The walls, painted a soft blue, sported framed photos of various officers receiving awards, posing on motorcycles in full dress uniform and lined up for group shots. The sergeant showed them into the break room, the sixth and last door on the right. A big poster of a classic, cherry-red Corvette was mounted on the wall next to an old refrigerator.

              Rick smiled in admiration. "A sixty-seven Stingray. I've got a black one."

              "That's mine," Clark said. "Great cars."

              "Yes."

              The sergeant eased down onto the corner of a long table holding foam cups and an ancient coffeemaker. "Sarah said you're a P.I.?"

              "That's right," Rick confirmed.

              Katie sank down on a scratched metal chair, content to let Rick do the talking but paying close attention to every word.

              "I'm working a missing persons case." He showed the officer pictures of Grace and Tommy while filling him in on what had happened. "We got a call from Grace last night that they were in this area, but we haven't been able to locate them yet."

              Clark looked at the pictures, then shook his head. "Sorry, haven't seen them."

              "Her hair's blond now," Katie offered, scooting forward in her chair.

              "Sorry." He gave her a sympathetic smile before shifting his gaze to Rick. "You say there's a mob connection?"

              "Yeah. And I've got descriptions of two guys suspected of murder who are probably following them. One's very slender, six feet tall, and the other is about five foot eight, balding with a thick neck."

              Clark had taken out a small, well-worn notebook while Rick talked and now scribbled a note. "I'll put the word out. Give you a call if I come across anything."

              "Thanks, I'd appreciate that."

              "Yes, thank you," Katie added.

              Rick circled his cell phone number on his business card and passed it to Sergeant Clark.

              The officer rose, "Let's get copies of your pictures, then check with the guys who aren't out on calls right now."

              "Great."

              As Clark led them around the corner and down another hall, he looked at the photos again. Holding up Grace's picture, his gaze sliced to Katie. "I see a resemblance in the eyes. Related?"

              "She's my sister," Katie said.

              He nodded, stopping inside the doorway of a small room, cramped with half a dozen desks and computers. Two officers, one male, one female, sat in front of computer screens, hunched over keyboards. Two other males leaned back in wooden-legged chairs with their feet propped on their desks.

              Sergeant Clark help up the photos of Grace and Tommy. "Hey, guys, anybody seen these two people? The woman's gone blond.

              Chairs creaked as the four officers rose to their feet and ambled over. The auburn-haired male officer who'd been working on the computer and was about Rick's height studied the pictures, then passed them back. "No, haven't seen 'em."

              Katie pressed against the doorjamb, peering around Rick.

              The lone female officer, a pretty brunette, bent her head over the pictures. "No, sorry," she murmured, her gaze lingering on Rick a little longer than Katie liked.

              The next officer, a young man with a crew cut and massive biceps that strained the sleeves of his uniform, reached across the brunette. He straightened when he saw Grace's picture. "Hey Brenda, we've seen this woman."

              Katie's heart leaped, and she clutched a handful of Rick's shirt. She couldn't help it, almost didn't care when he stiffened.

              The younger officer, Mark, motioned over a barrel-shaped man with stubby legs and a cigar clamped between his teeth.

              "Yeah, we've definitely seen her," Officer Mark said.

              Brenda, identified as Pollack by his tag name, leaned close, then removed the cigar stub and grinned. "We were in the dinner earlier this morning and she walked in. Ordered two breakfasts to go."

              "You're sure it was her? Did you see Tommy, too?" Katie stepped around Rick, encouraged.

              "Didn't see him, ma'am, but I ain't likely to forget a woman with a set of --er, a woman like that." His eyes glowed, and Katie could just imagine his thoughts. She'd seen it all before and for the first time was really thankful that Grace's looks drew such notice.