Her Holiday Protector

“Rikki?”

“Yes.”

She sounded muffled, scared.

Blain shot out of the bed and started grabbing clothes with one hand, the cell phone tucked between his ear and his collar bone. “What is it?”

“Someone came to my room.”

Blain’s pulse bumped into overdrive. “Are you still in the room?”

“No. I shouted that I was calling 911 and then I started screaming and banging on the walls. Then I called the front desk. The security guard apparently came out and scared away the intruder. I don’t know where the patrol officer is.”

Blain hopped on one foot trying to get his boots on. “Okay, where are you now?”

“In the lobby bathroom. I didn’t know who else to call.”

“I’ll be there in five minutes. Do not leave the hotel lobby area.”

“I won’t.”

“Stay on the phone with me,” Blain said. “I’m leaving right now.” He glanced around and saw Pebble the cat staring at him from the end of his bed. He’d found the cat by the back door of her place, meowing and scared. The mostly black-and-white long-haired calico did look like a pile of pebbles.

So now he had custody of a cat. He’d worry about Pebble later. He hurried out the door of his apartment and hoped Rikki Alvanetti would stay put until he could get to her.

She did as he asked and by the time Blain made it to the hotel, he’d gotten more information out of her. She’d been awake, unable to sleep, when she’d heard someone outside her door. Then the door handle had jiggled. She’d screamed out and threatened to call 911.

But she’d called him instead. Blain radioed in while he kept her on the phone. When he pulled up, two units were parked in the drive-through in front of the bright lobby. But he didn’t see the other cruiser or Rikki, either.

“I’m here,” he said into his cell. “Come out of the bathroom, Rikki.”

“Okay.”

He ended the call, furious that someone had tried to get to her in spite of their efforts. But this attack supported his suspicions. Someone was after Rikki Allen.

“Where’s our man?” he asked one of the uniformed officers as he slammed out of his unmarked sedan.

“He was knocked out in the bushes but on his way to the ER right now,” one of the patrolmen said. “He’ll be okay.”

The man they’d put on Rikki had gotten out of his patrol car to stretch his legs and chat with the pretty front-desk clerk. When he’d returned to his car, he’d been hit on the head and knocked out. Another officer had taken him to the hospital in his patrol car.

Sometimes, small-town police officers did things in a backward kind of way but Blain knew his fellow officers were all hardworking men. He was just glad everyone was okay.

Especially the woman emerging pale and sleep-tousled out of the bathroom. She looked at Blain and walked straight toward him, wearing a dark red zipped jacket and matching pants that his mother would call lounge wear.

He called it nice-looking wear right now but he kept his mind focused on the task and not the way that combo fit Rikki. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yes.” She glanced around, not looking so okay. “Did you find anyone out there?”

“Not yet. My men are searching every nook. We’ll double-check the area around your door, but I’m guessing whoever found you knew to wear gloves and not leave any clues.”

She nodded and pushed at all that tumbling hair. “Now we know, Detective.”

“Know what?” He didn’t like the gleam of acceptance in her eyes.

“That they were after me.”

“Yes, I believe you’re right on that,” Blain replied. “But they could have been after both of you.” At the look of horror on her face, he said, “Listen, you’re gonna have to tell me where your mother lives. You can’t stay here alone.”

“I can’t have them in her house, either.”

“But you’ll be with someone and...I’ll make sure no one bothers either of you.”

“And what are you, a one-man type of superhero?”

“No, but I think I can patrol a home and keep intruders out.”

“He’s a former marine, ma’am,” a passing officer said in a matter-of-fact tone. “He can take care of you.”

She quirked a dark eyebrow and took a calming breath. “A marine? So that should make me feel safe, I suppose.”

“One of the best,” the young patrolman said before Blain could reply. “An MP at that. Only, he don’t like to brag.”

Blain shook his head. “Look, I can watch over you tonight.”

She stared at him with a new regard, her dark gaze sweeping over him and making him squirm. “I don’t want to go to my mother’s house.”

Blain took her by the arm and tugged her off to the side where no one could hear him. “Your place isn’t safe. This hotel isn’t safe even though we had a uniformed patrol on site. I can’t take you to my place. Unless you have somewhere you can go that you can assure me is okay, then you’d better tell me the truth, Miss Allen. All of it. Or I’ll have to take you to the station and put you in a cell just to make sure you are safe until morning.”

“I don’t know the truth,” she said, her voice weakening. “I’ve told you everything I can.” Then she shook her head. “I keep thinking of Chad—my ex. But he couldn’t be this stupid. He’s threatened me but...I can’t believe he’d do this. He has too much at stake.”

Blain held his lips tightly together to keep from shouting at her. “And it never occurred to you to give me these details when you mentioned him earlier?”

“I didn’t think he’d find me at the town house. I never told him that my family—that I own it.”

“Well, maybe he followed you and...tried to kill you.” Blain pulled out his notebook. “What’s his address?”

She hesitated and then gave him Chad’s workplace and home addresses.

“And when did you last see Chad Presley?”

“About a week ago, down in Miami.”

Blain got a description of Chad and his vehicle and put out a BOLO over the radio that would go statewide. Be On the Lookout for a possible killer.

“There. We’ll see what that turns up. Does this Chad know where your mother lives?”

She thought about last spring when she’d brought him here for a wedding. That hadn’t gone over very well.