Merrie picked up her tea and sipped it. “Thank you for the tea. I’m going to stay up here until Paul calls. Is that all right?”
Delsey saw more than Merrie realized. She patted the other woman’s shoulder. “You know,” she said softly, “Ren isn’t used to women like you. He’s used to who Randall usually brings home. That Angie person was one of Randall’s women. Ren thought that since Randall brought you home with him, you were the same sort of person.” She grimaced. “I could have told him different, but you just don’t bring up subjects like that with him. He’s so self-contained.” She drew a breath. “He doesn’t show what he feels. But he does feel things. He’s sensitive.”
Merrie sipped tea.
“Well, enough said. You drink your tea. Sure you’re okay?”
“Just cold,” Merrie said. “I didn’t stop to look for gloves or a scarf. I really should have. And my boots are soaked. They were dressy ones. I forgot how deep the snow was.” She held up her sneakered feet. “I won’t walk far in these, but at least they’re dry.” She shook her head. “I thought it would be easy to get to the road.”
“Nothing easy about Wyoming when the snow starts falling,” Delsey replied. “If you need me, you call, okay, dear?”
“Okay.”
*
REN WAS SITTING at the table with a cup of hot coffee that he’d brewed himself. He looked up when Delsey came into the room.
“She’s called her sister,” Delsey said. “Her brother-in-law is coming to get her. He’ll be at the airport soon. I’ll drive her there.”
Ren felt cold inside. He focused on his coffee. “I see.”
“She isn’t what you think she is,” Delsey blurted out, uncomfortable. “She told me that her father never let her go on dates, not her whole life. She said she’d never even been kissed. She’s not one of Randall’s women.”
Ren paled at the revelation. If it was true, he’d made one hell of a monumental mistake. It was even worse than he thought. He sipped more coffee.
“We’ll have someone meet him at the airport and bring him here,” he said shortly. “I want to talk to him before she leaves.”
*
PAUL WAS MET at the airport by a man in a truck with the Skyhorn logo on the side, crossed bull horns in a red field.
“I’m Tubbs,” the man introduced himself. “The fixed-base operator at the airport here says you’re the only customer he’s got, so you must be Paul Fiore.”
Paul chuckled. “That’s me. Okay, let’s go.”
*
TUBBS DEPOSITED HIM at the house. Ren let Paul in and shook his hand.
“Merrie says she wants to come home,” Paul told the other man. “It’s a good thing, too. She’s been tracked here. We just found out.”
Ren’s blood ran cold. “Been tracked here by the killer? How?”
“The charge slip. She used her credit card at a high-end store here. It rang bells with a man we think has been monitoring her for the hit man. He uses all sorts of tech to help him find his targets. He’s wily.”
“Used her charge card.” Ren felt like an idiot. No wonder she hadn’t thanked him for her dress and coats. She’d paid for them herself.
He frowned. “She bought some high-ticket stuff recently,” Ren told him. “For one thing, an evening gown that was the most expensive thing in the store—and it’s a high-end store.”
“She hasn’t told you anything about herself, has she?” Paul asked.
“Not much, no.”
“She’s worth two hundred million dollars,” Paul said simply, watching the shock run over Ren’s face. “Left to her by her mother. She hid money in Swiss banks for both women, so that their father couldn’t get his greedy hands on it.”
“Two hundred million.” Ren couldn’t take it in. She was a millionaire many times over. But she didn’t act like a woman who owned anything.
“Hey, it’s just money,” Paul joked. “Could I have a cup of coffee? I worked late on a robbery in San Antonio and I’m about half-dead.”
“Sure. What about your pilot?” Ren asked.
“He’s got a thermos of coffee and a good book. Hates people. Good pilot.” Paul sat down. “How you doing?” he asked Delsey with a big smile. “I’m Paul Fiore.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said, thinking what a handsome man he was, with that thick, black wavy hair and dark brown eyes.
“Tell me about Merrie,” Ren said quietly.
Paul shrugged. “Not much to tell. The old man beat them. Both of them have scars down their backs. He used the belt doubled, with the buckle first.”
Ren groaned out loud. No wonder she hadn’t wanted his hand on her back at the party. Or earlier, when he’d held her and wondered at the odd pattern on the back of her sweater.
“He was a fanatic. He wanted all the towels to match, to be perfect on the racks. He hit Merrie once for having her bathroom rug off-center. And when she tried to go on a date at sixteen, he had the boy beaten and run out of town. He used the belt on Merrie because she’d dared to let a boy near her.”