Jamie flopped on the bed at the bed-and-breakfast. It had to be twenty degrees warmer in their room than the first floor. She’d felt the temperature rise as they’d climbed the old stairs. The bed-and-breakfast was charmingly quaint, but there were times when quaint didn’t cut it and you wanted modern hotel results. Like instant cold air, immediate coffee, and fast room service with cheesecake. “I’m beat,” she said. “And it’s too damned hot in here.”
“Trying to avoid sex with me already?” Michael asked as he cranked up the air-conditioning. “I thought that didn’t come till later in a relationship. Isn’t this where you say you have a headache?”
A deep laugh bubbled out of Jamie. She couldn’t help it. He was so damned frank. “To tell you the truth, knowing two people were just killed has my mind on other things right now. I really don’t know how I’m supposed to be feeling. Chris and Brian are missing. There are two people dead…possibly by the same man who attacked me yesterday. Should I be terrified, worried, or angry?”
“You need to be told how to feel right now? I think every one of those emotions is right on ticket with what you’ve been through. You don’t need to pick one, you know. Or write in your planner how many minutes to spend on each one.”
Choking on her laughter, Jamie wiped tears from her eyes. He was right. And he’d nailed exactly how she handled stress. “You are very good for me. Did you know that?”
“Of course. I took one look at you and thought, ‘There’s a woman who needs more laughter and adventure in her life.’ I made it my personal goal to help you be spontaneous. Not everything in life needs to be planned.”
“I like order. I like to know what will happen next. I’m not fond of surprises. Even surprise birthday parties upset me as a kid.”
Michael’s head jerked in surprise. “Who doesn’t like surprise parties?”
“Me!” She was dead serious. “They made me want to hide. Still do. I don’t like being the center of attention. Especially if I’m not expecting it.”
“But you deserve to be the center of attention. All the time.”
Michael did an expert belly flop onto the bed next to her. He reached over and pulled her tight into his arms and simply held her. She inhaled deeply, seeking his scent to calm her. He smelled like sunshine; his usual smell. With a tint of sweaty, salty male included that made her hormones wake up and stretch. He nuzzled against her cheek.
“Just don’t be throwing me any surprise parties, okay?”
“Agreed. I’ll always check with you before I surprise you.”
“Well, little surprises are okay. Like chocolate. You can bring me chocolate anytime.”
“Noted.” His face pressed against hers as he kissed his way up her jawbone to her ear.
He hasn’t heard a word I said.
“I don’t care if we’re in the middle of Hicksville right now. Anywhere you are is where I want to be,” he said, moving his lips to her mouth.
God, Michael knew how to kiss. His lips were strong and soft at the same time. His manner was authoritative and caring. He was impulsive but smart. The man was a walking contradiction in too many ways, and Jamie knew she was falling hard. He was so unlike the staid, steady men she’d dated in the past. Michael knew how to bring excitement and the unexpected into her life. But how long could that last?
Doesn’t matter. Enjoy the ride.
“Speaking of chocolate, are you hungry?” he asked with his lips against the back of her neck. He’d found a place just below her hairline that was sending pleasant chills down her spine and cooling her off quicker than the old air-conditioning unit.
“Starving.”
He pulled back. “Me too. I can’t even think straight, I’m so hungry.”
Jamie wanted his mouth back on her neck. “Eat first?”
He nodded reluctantly. “Sucks. But we’ll be happier later. I don’t want to get started on something and discover the damned town rolled up its sidewalks at sundown, leaving us to get food at the mini-mart.”
Jamie’s stomach growled. Noisily.
He chuckled. “My stomach’s complaining, too. And it’s not the only thing.” He disentangled their limbs. “Fuck. I don’t want to move.”
“Those enchiladas last night were heavenly,” Jamie stated, blinking innocently.
“You are evil.” Michael stood and then leaned over the bed, his hands resting on both sides of her face. “You relax. I’ll go get you some food, and then you can take care of me, agreed?”
Jamie looked at the green eyes so close to her face and felt her heart expand two notches. This man was growing very dear to her. “You’re not getting anything for you to eat?” she teased.
“I might get something for me since I’ll be there anyway.”
She stretched off the pillow to kiss him in response. “You’re incredible, did you know that?”
“Yep. I’m awesome that way,” he said, kissing her deeply.
Jamie’s bones melted into the soft bed at the touch of his mouth.
He slowly pulled away, holding eye contact. “I’ll be right back.” Extreme reluctance to leave shone from his eyes. “Don’t go anywhere.”
Jamie watched the door close behind him. She sank back into the pillow and stared at the ceiling, and sighed. One of the bleakest moments of her life had brought this man to help her cope. Lord, she was getting in deep. Deep with a type of man she’d never known before. But she didn’t care. It felt fabulous.
Michael inhaled as he strode back to the tiny bed-and-breakfast and felt his saliva try to drown him. The scents wafting from the food containers in his hands were incredible. Holy crap, his stomach was complaining big time. He’d ordered the exact same thing they’d eaten the day before. Memories of melted cheese and spicy meat…and then the night spent with Jamie.
Jamie Jacobs was turning out to be that once-in-a-lifetime woman. He hadn’t thought such a thing existed. He’d been head over heels for Lacey Campbell for years, but looking back now, it seemed like puppy love. He’d trotted around after her in total infatuation. She loved him, he knew that, but Lacey loved him like a brother. And that echoed his feelings for her now.
Then there’d been Sam. Actually, Samantha didn’t live too far from Demming, he suddenly noted. Probably another hour or two away. They’d had a good run for a few weeks, but Sam had responsibilities with her business that sucked up all her time. She knew she’d never leave her small-town life. Michael knew he wasn’t suited to live in a town with a single-screen movie theater that was only open on Fridays and Saturdays, showing six-month-old releases. Looking back, he realized Sam had been his rebound woman after discovering Lacey was in love with Jack Harper.
Now there was Jamie.
Smart, sexy, and learning to come out of her shell. He was the one poking away at that shell, because he could see the woman underneath waiting to explode. He liked the buttoned-up Jamie, the strict school principal. If he saw her with her hair up in a librarian’s bun, reading glasses, and a high-necked blouse, he’d want to tear into it, revealing the Jamie he’d seen before in that smoking thong and bra. Last night had been hormone and lustdriven on both their parts. He suspected that wasn’t something she gave in to very often, but damn, he was glad she had. It’d totally opened her up to him, exposing soft parts that he’d suspected were under that principal shell. And sexy, hot, roaring parts that a guy could only dream about.
Jamie Jacobs was a keeper.
Chuck waved at him, and Michael tossed back a greeting as he strode through the lobby and pounded up the creaking wood stairs. He didn’t want to stop to chat. He had one thing on his mind. Well, food and then one thing. Mouth watering, he fumbled to get his room key out of his shorts pocket and balance the food in one hand.
The door swung inward as he pushed his key into the keyhole.
Every sensor in his brain shot to high alert as he shoved the door completely open and stepped into the room. The empty room. He tossed the to-go boxes on the bed, scanning the small room. “Jamie?” The door to the bathroom was open. He checked the quiet shower.
“Jamie?”
Sweat started on the small of his back. She just stepped out for a minute.
He pushed aside the lace curtains of their window and scanned the hedged backyard. The rear gate in the hedge was open from the yard to the back alley, but the tables and chairs on the patio were empty. No tall women with long hair. All quiet.
Too quiet.
Michael thundered back down the stairs and into the lobby.
“You seen Jamie?” He shot the question at Chuck, who was straightening a shelf of books. Michael’s chest heaved like he’d run a sprint. He slowed his breathing. Christ. Keep your head on straight.
Chuck stiffly turned his head. “No, she hasn’t come down that I’ve seen. She got a phone call a while back. I put it through to her room, and it didn’t ring back, so I assume someone answered up there.”
“A call? Who was it? How long ago?” Michael barked.
Chuck looked thoughtful. “Maybe twenty minutes. Maybe a little more. I can only tell you that it was a male voice, and he asked specifically for Jamie Jacobs.”
“Young voice? Old?” Michael’s heart was doing flip-flops.
Chuck shrugged. “Neither?”
“Where’s your phone system? It’ll show the number of who called.” Michael started for the man’s office.
Chuck chortled. “I ain’t got one of those fancy phone systems. Just the basics.”
Michael froze. “No caller ID?” Seriously?
“Nope. None of that call-waiting stuff either. Always thought that was kinda rude.”
Michael exhaled. “And she hasn’t been downstairs?”
“I’ve been in and out of the back. I mighta missed her if she went through.”
“You were here when I left twenty minutes ago.”
Chuck nodded. “I’ve been doing some paperwork in the office. I try to keep an ear out for people coming through, but I don’t hear footsteps so well these days. That’s why I’ve got the bell on the desk.”
Michael swallowed hard and scanned the room. The lobby was the old living room and dining room of the former house, with the reception desk tucked in the corner farthest from the front door. A small kitchen and Chuck’s office were through the swinging door across the room. Horses could have pranced through the lobby and Chuck would have missed it if he’d been in the office.
“Mind if I look in the kitchen?” Michael pushed through the swinging door before Chuck could reply. A quick look in the adjacent office and the neat kitchen confirmed no Jamie. Sure enough, Chuck’s phone looked straight out of the 1970s. Michael strode out the front door and stood on the wide wraparound porch, seeking any sign of her. Nothing. He stepped back inside and nearly ran over Chuck.
“What’s wrong, son? You look like you’re ready to strangle a cat.”
“I can’t find her.” Understatement.
“Well. She can’t have gone far. There’s nowhere to go,” Chuck said reasonably.
Michael shook his head. “No. She was waiting for me. She wouldn’t have left.” He checked the time. “I need to call Sheriff Spencer. This isn’t right.” He left Chuck standing in the lobby and pounded up the stairs. “Would you ask your first-floor guests if they’ve seen her?” he shouted back to Chuck.
Michael’s bedroom door was still open. He looked inside again, hoping…still empty. He whirled around, moved into the hallway, and pounded on the other three doors in the hall, not waiting for someone to answer each one. One door opened and a middle-aged woman with thick eyeglasses glanced out. She reminded Michael of an owl.
“Chuck?” she asked.
“Chuck’s downstairs.” Michael gestured at his open door. “I’m staying next door, and I’m looking for my girlfriend. Have you seen her?”
Annoyance crossed the owl’s face, and her nose lifted into the air. “No. Not today. Last night, I heard her though. Last night…I heard both of you. I would have called Chuck, but I assumed he was asleep, and I figured it’d be rude to disturb his sleep.” She shut the door.
“Ah…sorry about that,” he said to the closed door. He pounded again on the other two doors. No answer.
“Fuck.” He dashed back down the stairs. His heart was doing a serious drumbeat in his chest, and it wasn’t from all the stairmastering.
Chuck stood in the center of the lobby. “I asked. No one’s seen her.”
“How the hell can she just leave and no one notice?” Michael yanked his phone from his pocket and dialed Sheriff Spencer.
“Well…both rooms down here were watching TV. Usually folks don’t pay much attention to what other people are doing around here.”
Bullshit. The townspeople had watched every step he and Jamie had made since getting to town. Someone had to have seen her.
“Spencer,” the sheriff answered his call.
“Sheriff, this is Michael Brody. Jamie is missing.” No point in mincing words.
“What?”
“We’re at Chuck’s place. I left to get dinner, I came back, and she’s gone. Chuck said she got a phone call a while back from a man. Fuck! I think he’s got her.” Michael’s brain screamed as he voiced the thought. He’d been holding off, not giving credence to the theory, but now he’d said it out loud, and he couldn’t think of anything else.
“Our tattoo man? Are you sure? Maybe she walked to the store. She’s got to be somewhere. Did his phone show who called?”
“Guess how old the phone system is.” Michael jogged out the front door and down the street to the little grocery, holding the phone to his ear. “I’m going to check the store, but I’m telling you, she wouldn’t leave.”
“I’m still at the Buell house. Somebody did a number on this kid. A fucking execution. One bullet to the back of the head. I’ve got a sobbing mama who wants to know why her son was killed, and I can’t tell her I think he said the wrong thing to a stranger. I’ve got a female deputy on hug-the-mother duty, and she’s starting to wear down from this woman’s hysterics. State is still taking evidence from the garage, but it looks like a clean scene to me.”
“Christ.” Michael didn’t want to think about a teenager collapsed on his garage floor and his frantic mother. He had Jamie on the brain, and there wasn’t room for anything else. He threw open the door to the market and searched the few aisles for Jamie’s black head.
Nothing.
“Help you?” asked a clerk as she leaned against the counter. She held a nail-polish brush in one hand, ready for action with her other hand in painting position on the counter. Her eyebrows had shot up as Michael abruptly entered the store. He didn’t recognize the young woman from the day before.
“Seen a woman with long black hair come in during the last twenty minutes or so?”
The woman shook her head. “No one’s been in for over an hour.” Her hand still held the brush in midair. “You buying anything?”
“No.”
“Okay.” She focused on her nails and applied the brush.
Michael left. “She’s not in there,” he said into his phone. He looked up and down the street, pacing the sidewalk. He jogged across the road to get a better look to the south. The sun had just started to set on the late-summer night, and the dimming light made him strain his eyes to see into the gray shadows.
Where was she?
Spencer was speaking to someone in the background.
“Spencer.”
“Yeah.” The sheriff’s distracted voice rang clear through the line.
“She’s not at the store. I don’t see her anywhere on the street.”
“Did you call her cell?”
Fuck! Why hadn’t he done that? Michael jogged back toward Chuck’s. “I will.”
“Okay,” said Spencer. “I’ll send someone your way as soon as I have a free pair of hands.”
Michael didn’t want to pull help away from the teenager’s murder. A few country deputies couldn’t help him. “Just spread the word, tell Hove to have his guys keep an eye out.”
“Done.”
Michael hit End and immediately called Jamie’s cell. The phone rang five times and dumped into voice mail. He hung up, disappointed that her voice mail was computerized instead of her own voice. He took Chuck’s porch steps three at a time, flew through the door, and across the lobby. He raced up to the second floor. His door was still open from earlier. Stepping through the doorway, he nearly knocked over Chuck for the second time that day.
“I could hear a phone in here ringing a minute ago,” Chuck said.
Jamie’s phone?
Michael hit Send on his phone again. A delicate melody sounded from the nightstand. He yanked open the drawer and stared at a familiar iPhone.
She’d left her phone. Right next to her wallet.
Michael ended his call and dialed Mason Callahan.