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Taking a calming breath, she opened the door.
“Hold on a second, there!”
A portly man in a maintenance uniform rushed forward before the bellman could step inside.
“Don’t unload the lady’s bags until I have a look. We’ve been having problems with the commode in this room for days. I suspect we’re going to need to move her to another room.”
“Should I take her things back downstairs?”
“Give me a minute first.”
The maintenance man apologized profusely on behalf of the hotel, surveyed her bathroom, tsked once or twice and asked permission to use her telephone.
Sky waited, oddly comforted by the presence of the two men.
He hung up and turned around, shaking his head. “Nobody ever listens. We’re going to be moving Ms. Diamond to another room. Take her stuff back downstairs until they reassign her. I’m real sorry for the inconvenience, Ms. Diamond. I told them there was a problem in here, but someone didn’t relay the information to reservations. We’ll have you resituated immediately.”
Sky sighed. There wasn’t much point in berating either of these two men. And if they switched her room, the man from the plane would no longer know her room number.
The crowd had thinned substantially by the time they got to the main lobby, but luggage was stacked on carts all over. Hers rejoined the others sitting to one side while she waited for the hotel to process a new room.
Sky clutched her briefcase, her gaze constantly roving over the crowd. There was no sign of the man from the plane. In minutes she’d been upgraded, at no additional cost, to a far more luxurious suite on the floor above the original one, with profuse apologies ringing in her ears.
Still, Sky didn’t relax until the bellman stacked her bags inside, set the computer case on the desk, and departed with a smile and a good tip. With a profound sigh of relief, she settled into the spacious new accommodations. She’d requested privacy this time so her dilemma had been solved. The man with the menacing eyes would have no way of tracking her down.
She’d be leaving the hotel before most people were up and about in the morning. Since she planned to have dinner in her room, odds were, she would never see the stranger again.
* * *
IT WAS THE stupid little things that could ruin a perfect reputation after years of work. A guilty conscience made a man foolish.
The man sometimes known as Norman Smith had been so certain that airport security guard was stalking him that he’d switched the computer case with the blonde’s. And all for nothing. The weaselly bastard had been going after a mundane pickpocket, not him.
He needed better control. Much better control. Maybe he was getting too old for this business. Maybe it was time to think about retiring. He had a tidy sum resting in an offshore bank. Not enough to buy him an island perhaps, but there was a location in Hawaii that looked promising, plenty of space and white sandy beaches. He could share an island paradise like that.
Maybe after he completed this assignment, he’d hop a plane to the Islands and have another look around. He could rent a place for a year or so to see how he liked living there. He could still do the odd job or two—unless he was suddenly going to start jumping every time someone looked at him funny.
Business had been brisk of late and he’d grown unaccountably tense. The last two jobs hadn’t gone well. In fact, the last hit had nearly gotten him caught despite all his careful planning. He definitely needed a vacation. Today was a prime example. He shouldn’t have let himself be sidetracked by that blonde. Normally he had better control.
But God, she was something. She carried herself like a movie star. He’d always been drawn to the classy type. They didn’t usually come with such a cold put-down, either.
Anger churned in his gut. Who did she think she was? He could buy and sell her a million times over.
The thought made him smile. The smile turned into a chuckle. Then he scowled, emerging from the stairwell where he’d donned the stolen, protective camouflage. He started down the hall, his senses alert while his mind probed her reaction to him at the airport.
Cold, snobbish piece of tail. She’d looked at him like he was dirt. Well, he’d teach her some manners. Too bad it was the last lesson she’d ever learn.
He chuckled again, then he quickly looked around to see if anyone had heard him. No, he was still alone in the hallway. The maintenance uniform was a loose fit on his lean frame, but it would serve the purpose. She would see only the uniform and let him in.
He nodded to a couple leaving their room and they nodded back. Emboldened, he lengthened his stride. No one would question his right to be walking around in this outfit. Hadn’t he learned it was all a matter of acting as if you belonged? People always saw what they expected.
He started paying attention to the room numbers: 1213, 1215, 1217. Perfect. He knocked once and called out.
“Maintenance.”
Nothing happened. There was no stir of sound from inside. She’d probably gone out to eat. Or maybe she’d fallen asleep on the bed. That would be even better. He pulled on a pair of thin latex gloves. Removing a set of tools from his pocket, he set to work on the lock.
Inside the darkened room a minute later, he hit the light switch. His gaze swept the place. Instead of the jumble of luggage he’d expected to see, the room was completely empty.
Gone. She was gone!
Fear and fury mingled. Where had she gone? She’d been here when he’d called her room a short while ago.
There was only one reason for her to take off like that. She must have opened the computer case!
Fury all but choked him. Damn her! She’d taken off with his money. She must have thought she’d struck it rich. He’d teach her. He’d teach her good. Snooty Ms. Diamond would pay and pay for this inconvenience. Because that was all he would let it be. He’d get the money back and the C4 explosive as well.
He cursed viciously. Stupid! One stupid moment of panic and his reputation hung in the balance. His fingerprints were all over that case. If she’d taken it to the police—
He calmed his momentary panic. Even if she had, they couldn’t touch him. They wouldn’t have a name to go with those prints, nor would they know where to look. And his career wasn’t ruined yet. Fortunately, he’d removed the client’s instructions in the rest room when he’d picked up the case from the unseen courier.
He patted his hip pocket, satisfied by the crinkle of paper. Unfortunately, now he would have to purchase or steal some explosives himself. Risky. He could make a couple of bombs from scratch of course, but they wouldn’t be as professional as the C4. And this job needed to go right. He pounded his fist in his hand. He had some time. Maybe he could find the bitch and get his case back again. Damn her!
He lifted the lamp from the dresser, yanking the cord from the socket. The lamp shattered satisfactorily against the wall over the king-size bed where he hurled it. Where had she gone? When he’d searched her computer case at the airport, all he’d found was her business address inside. Would she go back to New York once she realized what she had?
Not likely. She’d had too much luggage with her. Hell, with his recent luck she was relocating here in Texas. How was he going to find her? Texas was one big mother of a state. She could have gone anywhere. If he started asking questions, people would remember him. There had to be a way to figure out where she went.
A noise at the door sent him spinning around. There was no time to move out of sight and nowhere to hide. Another man in a maintenance uniform stepped inside, a rack of tools in his hand. His friendly face registered startled shock, then moved to puzzled surprise.
The man sometimes known as Norman Smith smiled at the newcomer coldly.
“Uh, who are you?” Dark features pleated in puzzlement, not yet alarmed. “I was told we’ve got a problem here.”
He waited for the man to close the door to the hall. His fingers wormed their way inside his pocket to the comforting hard steel of the knife that rested there.
He liked knives. They were much quieter than guns.
“It’s unfortunate, but it looks like I’m the man who’s going to make all your problems disappear.”
CHAPTER TWO
THE SUN WASN’T even up when Sky finished dressing, checked her watch, and decided she had time to send her assistant a quick e-mail before she hit the road. The computer case still sat on the desk where the bellman had set it the night before. Spinning it around to open it, she stopped, her heart pounding loud enough to be audible.
“This isn’t my case!”
While similar, the case was too light and had some sort of fancy lock on the front. Anger and panic warred within her even as she reached for her briefcase to check on her files. The machine’s files weren’t irreplaceable, the ones in her briefcase were. She breathed again when she found everything where it should be. Then she reached for the telephone.
“I suspect this is a simple mix-up,” the hotel security man told her a short time later. “There’s no identification on the outside, but this is an expensive lock. Someone is going to want this case back.”
“Can’t you open it?”
“No, ma’am. Not with this lock on it.”
“Mr. Ellenshaw, I need my computer. Can’t you break the lock and find out who this case belongs to?”
The earnest young man shook his head. “Sorry, Ms. Diamond, I can’t do that. Believe me, whoever got your computer is going to be as upset as you are over this mistake.”
“I doubt it.”
Especially if that person was from a rival designer’s house. This wouldn’t be the first time another designer had gone to extreme lengths to steal an upcoming series of designs. Sky had been a recent target so she knew firsthand. There was big money in the world of fashion. Theft happened more often than people realized. And there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.
“I’m certain we’ll hear from the owner this morning,” he assured her earnestly.
“That’s all very well, but my car is being delivered in fifteen minutes. I have to leave. What am I supposed to do?”
“As soon as your computer is located we’ll have it delivered to you. In the meantime, I have some forms for you to fill out.”
“Of course you do.”
Arguing was pointless. If the competition had her computer, they already had everything on it. Recriminations were useless. She could only hope Mr. Ellenshaw was correct, that in all the confusion yesterday, the bags had been switched by mistake.
“And if no one does complain about having the wrong computer?” she asked as she finished filling out the requisite paperwork to get her laptop computer returned in the event they recovered it.
“Er, then you’ll have to file a claim through the insurance company.”
“Naturally. And what happens to this one?”
“Oh, we’ll hold on to it. It’s possible a guest who checked out might not discover the switch for several days.” At her raised eyebrows he hastened to add, “But I really don’t think that’s going to be an issue here, Ms. Diamond.”
The door flew open. A young woman in a security uniform stood there, a peculiar expression on her face. “Ray, I need to talk to you right away.”
“I’ll be with you in a min—”
“Now! This won’t wait!”
“Excuse me a moment, Ms. Diamond.”
He walked to the door and stepped into the corridor with the agitated woman. The door didn’t close all the way and the woman’s frantically whispered words floated into the room.
“One of the maids just found a maintenance worker downstairs in an empty room. He’s dead. She says his throat was slit. There’s blood all over the place.”
The security man uttered an oath. “Follow procedure. I’ll be right there.”
Sky wasn’t surprised when she was hustled to the front desk. A bellman was summoned to collect her bags and bring them downstairs. By the time she finished filling out the paperwork for the car that was delivered, a surprising number of uniformed police officers were trooping through the lobby. At 5:33 a.m. it seemed highly unlikely the early risers were going to believe the police were here for a conference.
Not her problem. Sky tipped the deliveryman and walked outside, her briefcase firmly under her arm. This time she checked each piece of luggage carefully as it was being loaded into the trunk of the luxury car. Two men she’d bet were plainclothes policemen strode past the unfazed doorman.
“All set, ma’am. Come back and see us.”
Not if she could help it. In her opinion, the Grand’s reputation was highly overrated.
Only after she was inside the car with the engine running did she shrug off the morning’s frustration and allow anticipation to hum through her body. There was nothing she could do about the computer right now. The loss couldn’t override her main reason for being here in Texas.
Somewhere down the road her daughter was waiting, even if the girl wasn’t aware of that fact. In her mind, Sky had held countless conversations with the faceless young woman. She’d rehearsed all sorts of opening gambits. Yet she still didn’t know what she was going to say when the time finally came. More and more she wondered if she was doing the right thing at all. She had no rights here. But even if she didn’t tell her daughter who she was, Sky needed to see her, maybe watch her and hear her speak. It was that simple and that complicated.
She opened her map, took a quick look at the printed directions she’d made for herself, and set out into the early-morning traffic.
Finally, after all these years, maybe—just maybe—she could convince herself that she’d done the right thing after all.
* * *
DINNER WAS nearly ready. His daughter would be home from work soon, Noah thought in satisfaction. Having Lauren around always brought the tiny ranch to life. The place was going to feel so empty once she moved away for good. Lauren had a way of comfortably filling even the silences with her good-natured presence. It had been bad enough this past year and a half with her away at school most of the time, but at least there had been vacations and semester breaks to look forward to. Soon it would be periodic visits instead.
Letting go might be part of the parenting process, but he didn’t have to like it.
The telephone rang, pulling Noah from his introspection. He rinsed his hands and reached for the instrument.
“Hello?”
“Noah? Zach Logan.”
The name from his past raised his eyebrows. Zach Logan had been his boss when he worked for the Dallas Police Department fifteen years ago. He hadn’t seen the man since last April when one of Zach’s cases had reached into this part of Texas and Noah lost a deputy.
“Hey, Zach, what’s new?” Noah cupped the phone under his chin and finished drying his hands on the dish towel as he checked the water boiling on the stove.
“I called to give you a heads-up.”
Noah turned down the heat as he slid the pasta into the boiling water. “On Francis Hartman?”
“You heard they released him?”
“I dropped a prisoner off last week. The warden told me.”
“Then do you know Hartman disappeared from view yesterday?”
Noah’s muscles tensed then relaxed. “Francis Hartman is a brainless thug.”
“Who apparently carries a mean grudge.”
Noah swore.
“Yeah. While I agree he doesn’t have the brains God gave rodent dung, it’s a good idea to watch your back all the same. The brainless ones are often more dangerous than we expect.”
“Point taken. Thanks for the warning, Zach. I’ll alert my people. Any wants or warrants?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, I’m not overly worried. Hartman will stand out if he makes the mistake of showing up here in Darwin Crossing. I think he’s just barely smart enough to recognize that.”
