“I got it,” he said, leaning toward the computer screen.
Carmen’s heart skidded to a halt. Was it possible they had caught the killer on camera? That this might all be over?
She hurried to stand directly behind Griff, leaning over his shoulder as he replayed the security footage to share what he’d seen.
The image of the hallway outside her hotel room came into focus, the camera obviously hidden in the ceiling only a few feet from her door. The video ran for a few minutes without any movement, and then a shadow fell across the carpeted floor.
Carmen leaned even closer, her hands grabbing Griff ’s upper arms to keep her balance. On some level she was aware of the hard muscles beneath her fingers, and the intoxicating scent of his male cologne, but her focus remained centered on the video.
The shadow lengthened, a pair of shiny, black leather shoes appearing first, followed by long legs covered by black slacks and then a uniformed jacket. Seconds later, the young man was in full view of the camera as he halted in front of her door.
The man looked from left to right before he squatted down and shoved something under the door.
The postcard, Carmen acknowledged. It had to be.
With another quick glance to see if he was still alone, the man straightened and hurried back down the hallway, turning the corner and going out of the range of the camera.
Carmen frowned. The man’s round face and shaggy brown hair seemed vaguely familiar. As if she’d recently passed him in the street. But he certainly wasn’t someone she actually knew. Not now, and not in the past.
She would swear to that.
Her breath hissed between her clenched teeth. The video had just created more questions than answers.
“He’s one of the porters,” Griff said, rewinding the video once again to study the man. He pointed toward the fitted jacket with the hotel emblem stitched onto the lapel.
Carmen straightened and stepped back, disappointment curdling through her. “That’s why he seemed familiar.”
Griff abruptly rose to his feet, turning to face her with a grim expression.
“I saw him when we first checked in and then again in the lobby when we arrived tonight,” he said. “I’m going to have a word with him. You stay here and lock the door behind me.”
He was headed toward the door with long strides. Carmen briefly considered going with him. Griff wouldn’t be happy, but he couldn’t actually force her to stay behind.
Then she gave a shake of her head. Griff was capable of tracking down the young man without her assistance. And she suspected that he might use more than his winning personality to get the information he wanted. She wouldn’t be much help in a physical confrontation.
Besides, she had things to do.
Whatever they did or didn’t discover from the porter, she was convinced that at least one of the killers intended to follow in the footsteps of the Morning Star. Which meant that he was headed to the West Coast.
With a flurry of activity, Carmen locked the door and then moved through the hotel suite, packing her clothes and then heading into Griff ’s bedroom to gather his belongings. They were both in need of a laundromat, or a shopping mall, but for now she was more interested in heading to the airport.
She was finished and had returned to her task of pacing the carpet when she at last heard a soft tap on the door. She hurried forward, taking the time to check through the peephole to make sure it was Griff on the other side.
Clicking back the deadbolt, she waited for him to walk past her, his bleak expression revealing that the meeting hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped.
Still, she had to know. “What happened?”
Griff turned to face her, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his jeans.
“He denied knowing what I was talking about, at least until I threatened to haul him to the security office,” he said, his dark eyes burning with a smoldering fury.
Carmen studied his lean face, a strange pang tugging at her heart. It was more than just his sheer male beauty. It was the fierce determination that was etched in his features and the clenched muscles of his hard body.
In just a few short days this man had become her rock, her self-appointed protector. Someone she could depend on after years of being on her own.
The question that whispered in the back of her mind was whether he would still be there after the danger was gone.
“And then?” She forced herself to concentrate on far more important matters.
“Then the porter admitted that some man approached him when he was taking his cigarette break. I guess the management doesn’t let the employees smoke near the hotel, so he always goes to the parking lot down the street,” Griff said. “The man paid him fifty bucks to slide the postcard beneath the door. He didn’t see any harm in it, so he took the money.”
“Did he get a description?”
Griff shrugged. “Medium height, wearing a long trench coat with a scarf around his neck and a hat.”
“Of course he was.” Carmen rolled her eyes. She felt more resigned than disappointed. She’d already prepared herself for the fact that the killer was too clever to reveal his identity to the hotel porter. “He couldn’t tell you anything helpful?”
“Nothing more than the fact that he’d talked to a fellow porter who’d been approached by the same man earlier in the day,” Griff told her. “That porter refused.”
Her brows drew together. She sensed there was a reason he mentioned the first porter, but she didn’t understand how it could help.
“Did he recognize the man?”
Griff shook his head. “No, but he spoke with the first porter at ten in the morning.”
“So . . .” Her impatient words died on her lips. Her eyes widened as she realized just what he was saying. “Oh.”
He nodded, his lips pulled into a humorless smile. “Exactly. He couldn’t have been the person who tried to run us off the road. Not unless he’s capable of being in two places at one time.”
Carmen muttered a curse as she pressed her fingers to her aching temples.
“I feel like I’m on a hamster wheel, running as fast as I can but never moving forward.”
He stepped toward her, wrapping her tightly in his arms. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” She felt his lips brush the top of her head. “I swear.”
She leaned against him, trying to absorb his strength. A chill was crawling over her skin, like an icy breath from the grave.
Or perhaps a warning that she was running out of time.
“We have to go to California,” she said softly.
“I couldn’t agree more,” he shocked her by saying.
She tilted back her head, studying him with suspicion. What was going on? She’d expected him to fight her tooth and nail.
“You agree?” she demanded, assuming this was some sort of trick.
His hands framed her face, his expression hard with resolve.
“We’re going to my house and you’re staying there until Rylan can join us,” he said, the tone offering no room for compromise. “By then Nikki will hopefully be on the case and we can track down the bastards and put an end to this nightmare.”
She held his gaze. They were going to California. That’s all that mattered for now.
Once they got there, she would decide how she was going to lure the killers out of hiding.
“Whatever you say,” she meekly agreed.
Chapter Nineteen
December 27, California
It was just after midnight when Anita King trudged through the dark streets of Oxnard.
She’d worked a double shift at the local diner. This time of year the regular customers were out of town, or staying home with family to eat leftovers. Which meant she had to work twice as hard for the tips she needed to pay the rent this month.
A few years ago, the endless hours on her feet wouldn’t have bothered her. But she wasn’t thirty anymore. Hell, she wasn’t even fifty. Now each step jarred her knees that ached from arthritis, and her shoes cut into her swollen ankles.