Unforgettable. Cassie Miles

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ narrowing the space between them. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “It’s best if you forget you ever saw me.”

      As if that would happen. There weren’t a whole lot of handsome mystery men who appeared on her doorstep. For the past month, she’d been a hermit who barely talked to anyone. “You won’t be easy to forget.”

      “Nor will you.”

      “For the record, I still think you need to go to the hospital.”

      “Duly noted.”

      From outside, she heard the grating of tires on gravel.

      Jack had heard it, too. In a few strides, he was at the front window, peering around the edge of the curtain.

      A 1957 vintage Ford Fairlane—two-toned in turquoise and cream—was headed down her driveway. She knew the car, and the driver was someone she trusted implicitly. His vehicle was followed by a black SUV with tinted windows. “Do you see the SUV? Are these the people who are after you?”

      “Don’t know,” he said. “They’ve seen your car so you can’t pretend you’re not here. Go ahead and talk to them. Don’t tell them you’ve seen me.”

      “Understood.” She gave him a nod. “You stay in the house. I’ll get rid of them.”

      Smoothing her hair back into her ponytail, she went to the front door, aware that she might be coming face-to-face with the enforcers for a powerful crime family. Panic fluttered behind her eyelids, and she blinked it away. This wasn’t her first ride on the roller coaster. She’d gotten through war zones, faced terrorists and bloody death. A couple of thugs from Chicago shouldn’t be a problem.

      From the porch, she watched as the Ford Fairlane parked near her back door. The black SUV pulled up to the rear bumper of her car before it stopped.

      She waved to Bob Woodley—a tall, rangy, white-haired man who had been a longtime friend of her family. He was one of the few people she’d seen since moving back to the cabin. A retired English teacher, he had been a mentor to her when she was in her teens. “Hi, Mr. Woodley.”

      He motioned her toward him. “Get over here, Caitlyn. Give an old man a proper hello.”

      When she hugged him, he must have sensed her apprehension. He studied her expression. His bushy eyebrows pulled into a scowl. “Something wrong?”

      “I’m fine.” She forced a smile. “What brings you here?”

      “I was visiting Heather at the Circle L when these two gentlemen showed up. Since I’m a state congressman, I figured it was my duty to extend a helping hand to these strangers by showing them how to find your cabin.”

      She looked past him toward the SUV. The two men walking toward her were a sinister contrast to Mr. Woodley’s open honesty. Both wore jeans and sports jackets that didn’t quite hide the bulge of shoulder holsters. Dark glasses shaded their eyes.

      Woodley performed the introductions. “Caitlyn, I want you to meet Drew Kelso and Greg Reynolds.”

      When she shook their hands, their flesh was cold—either from the air-conditioning in their car or because they were reptiles. “What can I do for you?”

      Woodley said, “We understand that you had a visitor this morning.”

      How did they know about Jack? Had her cabin been under surveillance? “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

      “The dappled gray mare,” Woodley said. “You had Heather come over and pick it up.”

      “Oh, the horse.” She rolled her eyes in an attempt to look like a ditzy blonde. She didn’t want these men to take her seriously, wanted them to dismiss her as harmless. “Silly me, I’d already forgotten about the horse.”

      The one named Reynolds said, “It belongs to someone we know.”

      “Your friend needs to be more careful,” she said. “The horse showed up on my property without a saddle or a bridle or anything.”

      The friendly smiles she offered to the two thugs went unanswered. They meant business.

      The taller, Drew, had sandy hair and heavy shoulders. His mouth barely moved when he spoke. “We’re looking for the guy who was riding that horse.”

      “I didn’t see anybody.” She widened her eyes, even fluttered her lashes. “Like I said, no bridle or saddle.”

      Drew said, “If you saw him, it’d be smart to tell us.”

      His comment sounded a bit like a threat. “Who is this person? What’s his name?”

      “Tony Perez.”

      With complete honesty, she shook her head. “Never heard of him. But I’ll be on the lookout. Is there a number I should call if I see him?”

      Drew handed her a business card that contained only his name and a cell phone number.

      “I guess that wraps up our business.” Woodley checked his wristwatch. “I’d better shove off.”

      She wanted to cling to him and plead for him to stay until these two men were gone. “Can’t you stay for coffee?”

      “Sorry, kiddo. I’m running late for an appointment in Pinedale.” He strolled toward his vintage Ford Fairlane. “I hope you gents can find your missing friend.”

      They gave him a nod and headed toward their SUV. Caitlyn breathed a little sigh of relief. They were leaving. The crisis was averted.

      Before Woodley climbed behind the steering wheel, he said, “Don’t be a stranger, Caitlyn.”

      He drove down her driveway and turned onto the road. The two men stood beside their SUV talking. With every fiber of her being, she wanted them gone. These were two scary guys. Why hadn’t Mr. Woodley been able to see it?

      They came back toward her. Drew said, “We want to take a look around. To make sure he’s not hiding around here.”

      “That’s not necessary.” She positioned herself between him and her front porch. “There’s nobody here but me.”

      Drew glanced over his shoulder at the other man, Greg Reynolds. He was neat and crisp. His boots were polished. His charcoal sports jacket showed expensive tailoring, and his thick black hair glistened in the sunlight. She guessed that he was a man of expensive tastes, definitely the boss.

      Greg gave a slight nod, and Drew walked toward her cabin. Short of tackling him, there was no way Caitlyn could stop him. Still, she had to try.

      “Hey.” She grasped his arm. “I told you. There’s nobody here.”

      Slowly, he turned toward her and removed his sunglasses. He didn’t need to speak; the curl of his upper lip and the flat, angry glare from his eyes told her that he wouldn’t hesitate to use violence. And he would most likely enjoy hurting her.

      She stepped back. Silently, she prayed that Jack had hidden himself well or had managed to slip out the back door.

СКАЧАТЬ