Black Sheep (18 page)

So why had he ambushed her? Must have been to distract her. Or get her out of the
room for a while.

Which meant someone working for the Reapers had probably been in her room while she
was at the clubhouse. Going through her stuff. Who knew what else? Bastards.

At least they hadn’t gotten to Eli’s papers. Those were safely locked in the trunk
of the Subaru. And she wasn’t about to let them have a chance at them. As soon as
she got back, she’d grab her stuff and leave the VistaView. No, better. There was
nothing in the room she needed tonight. She’d check into one of the cheap motels along
19. Go through Eli’s stuff there, keep it safe where no one could find it.

One problem with that plan: Paul.

She dialed his number. “Hey, what’s taking you so long?” he answered.

“Where are you?”

“In our room, of course.”

“Which room? The one my uncle gave me?”

“Yes.” He paused. “Why? Did you not want me here? What’s going on, Caitlyn?”

Not the place or time to hash this out. But he definitely sounded in no mood to meet
her at a second-rate roadside motel, either. “Nothing. I just didn’t really care for
that room.” Or for the folks who might have a key to it. “I’m almost back to the VistaView.
Would you mind grabbing my bag and checking us into another room?” He was going to
think she was paranoid, start asking even more questions. Then inspiration hit. “On
another floor. Away from my mother?”

She had no idea where Jessalyn’s room was, but he didn’t know that.

“Right. Your mom.” Relief and a touch of humor colored his voice. “Okay, sure. I can
do that.”

“Don’t worry about checking out. And use your name, not mine. Text me the room number
and I’ll meet you there.”

“Will do.” She almost hung up, but he continued, “Caitlyn, we need to have a long
talk about tonight. You can’t keep me in the dark like this. It isn’t right and I
deserve better.”

No denying that. Didn’t mean she was looking forward to it.

“I’ll see you soon.” She hung up before he could say anything more.

*   *   *

Smokey’s scream jolted through Lena. She sat upright, the dim light coming through
the open door barely enough for her to make out the chimp’s shadow. But more than
enough to reveal the feline outline that had agitated Smokey.

A very, very large cat. Mountain lion? Who cared, it was big and huffing like it was
mad, and it stood between Lena and Smokey and the door.

The cat lunged toward Lena. Smokey shrieked again, jumping to protect Lena. The cat
swatted a paw at Smokey, but slowly, as if it was testing the chimp. Smokey dodged
it easily. Lena stood, keeping the chimp between herself and the cat. Cowardly, she
knew, but what choice did she have?

She touched Smokey’s arm. The chimp trembled with fear and shook her off without turning
her attention away from the cat. Smokey’s fur stood on end, as if a few extra inches
of bristling hair would be enough to convince the cat that the chimp was a threat.
The cat yawned, unimpressed, its mouth a gaping abyss of large white teeth. Very sharp
teeth.

Lena backed away. The stench of urine and rotting meat gagged her. “C’mon, Smokey.
Let’s not bother the pretty kitty. Good kitty, now, shoo.” Her tongue was thick with
cold and her words sounded slurred. Crazy trying to talk a mountain lion into leaving
its dinner behind anyway.

The light from the door hit the cat as it paced, its head cocked as if it considered
Lena’s words. There were markings across its coat. Not a mountain lion. A leopard?
What the hell was a leopard doing here?

Question for later. After the leopard was on the other side of the door and she and
Smokey were safely locked behind it.

Thankfully, the leopard seemed to be thinking the same thing. It swung its head from
Lena and Smokey to the open door, nose high, scenting the air. But then it focused
on the prey in front of it once more.

Suddenly a shadow blocked the doorway. A man. A light shot out, blinding Lena as it
pierced the darkness. She shielded her eyes, stumbling backward. Her foot slipped
on something wet. Losing her balance, she flailed her arms but fell to the floor,
the collision stunning her.

The leopard sprang. Not at Lena. At the man aiming the light at it. The cat made a
low
hrumph
ing noise, the kind of noise that could be the very last sound its prey heard. It
sideswiped the man with its paw, shoved him aside, and bolted for freedom.

Smokey screeched, jumped up and down, swinging her arms to protect Lena from the new
threat. The man sagged against the door, dropped the light. It spun across the floor,
like a disco ball, illuminating what appeared to be an old hotel registration desk.
Lena didn’t know whether to get up or play dead until the man cleared the doorway
and gave her room to escape.

He pushed himself to his feet, fumbled something into his coat pocket, and approached
with his hands held palms up to his side, trying to convince her he wasn’t a threat.
She wasn’t sure she bought it, but her feet were still too numb to try to run past
him—hell, last time she’d tried to use them, she’d fallen, so she’d have to come up
with a Plan B. Maybe Smokey could create a diversion, buy her time?

“Shh, now, I’m trying to help. Let me just check her, make sure she’s okay.” The man
crooned softly to the chimp as he took one step then another toward where Lena lay.
Smokey calmed, her posture relaxing.

So much for Plan B. Lena’s mind felt like it was struggling through an avalanche,
almost as numb and cold as her body. It was so hard to think clearly, much less convince
her freezing body to cooperate.

“You remember me, don’t you, girl?” The man stretched out a hand. Smokey sniffed,
then took it, patting her palm up and down his arm and chest as if re-familiarizing
herself with him. He stood in place, waiting for her to finish her exploration. Only
once she’d accepted him did he dare to crouch beside Lena.

Smokey mimicked the man’s posture, her paws gently nudging Lena. She made a worried
keening sound and turned to the man. As if she trusted him to take care of Lena.

Lena didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Because even in the dim light she could make out
the stranger’s eyes.

Pale blue with silver flecks. The same eyes as the man who’d kept her prisoner.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Paul had gotten them a regular room on the floor above the atrium. It had a king-sized
bed, a small table with two uncomfortable-looking chairs in front of an interior window
beside the door. She didn’t like the window, it was a security risk, but Caitlyn felt
better for having moved. Not that she’d be letting her guard down, but for tonight
this worked.

She’d hauled Eli’s box up from the car. Wasn’t about to let it out of her sight until
she had a chance to go through it.

“What the hell was that all about?” Paul asked as soon as she walked in the door and
dropped the box onto the table in front of the window. She’d been hoping he’d be asleep.
No such luck. “Back at the bar?”

“That was me doing my job. Until you showed up.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Were those bikers really going to shoot us over a stupid
little pin?”

“It’s a matter of honor. That pin represents the entire MC.”

“Honor my ass.” Wow, he really was pissed. She’d never seen him like this before.
“Bunch of racist hoodlums. And what were you thinking? You could have gotten yourself
killed. Going up against a gang like that on your own. Are you crazy?”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“Your mom told me this is about some girl you haven’t even seen for twenty-five years.
It’s not your job. Even if it was, shouldn’t you have backup or a team or a plan or
something? You don’t just go charging in—”

“Sometimes you do. Shake things loose. I had it covered until you blundered in.”

“Didn’t look that way from where I stood.” He blew out his breath. Had that resigned
look he got when he had to play the adult in the relationship. She hated that look.
“I admire your loyalty. To your job. Even to friends you haven’t seen in years. But
when are you going to start being loyal to yourself? To your family and the folks
who love you?” He laid his palms on her shoulders and looked down at her. “Caitlyn,
I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

Adrenaline fled, leaving her bones ready to melt. She surrendered to exhaustion and
let Paul hold her even though she knew she’d regret her cowardice in the morning.
He was so strong, it was tempting to forget everything else and just let him take
care of her.

“I hate it when we fight,” he said, his words ruffling her hair. “Hate it even more
when I feel like I’m the only one fighting. For us.”

His words brought more guilt with them. She should love this man—what woman in her
right mind wouldn’t? He was sweet and thoughtful and honest and handsome and tonight
had proved his courage. She was attracted to him, enjoyed being with him … maybe that
was love? Maybe she’d been waiting to feel something that didn’t even exist? How the
hell was she supposed to know?

The silence lengthened but he relented, not pushing her for a commitment. Add kind
and patient to his good qualities. She hoped he never tried to make a similar list
about her. It’d be damn short.

“This case,” he said, his face still buried in her hair. “It’s not official business,
right?”

She pulled away, looked at him suspiciously. If he was going to ask her to give up—

“So, that means you can tell me about it and maybe I can help,” he finished. He sat
down on the edge of the bed. “Start at the beginning.”

She wasn’t about to let a civilian get involved—especially not Paul. He’d almost gotten
himself and her killed tonight trying to help. But talking this tangle out might clear
her head, give her a direction to go in. She sank down onto the chair, pulled her
knees up to sit cross-legged, and propped one elbow on the table, resting her chin
in her palm.

“The beginning? I’m not even sure where that is. I thought it was with the murder
Lena’s father committed twenty-six years ago, but now I’m not sure.”

“Her dad killed someone?”

“A Cherokee tribal elder named Tommy Shadwick. Beat the guy to death with a hammer
then torched the body and his house to cover it up.”

Paul’s eyes went wide. So typical of a civilian. Give them blood and gore and suddenly
they got interested. “Really? Why?”

“I was just a kid at the time. But when I read about it later the only motive mentioned
was that Tommy opposed Hale’s efforts to have his family placed on the tribal rolls.
There was a big case started in Oklahoma about former African slaves of the Cherokees
being given full tribal status. I guess with the new Indian gaming law passed back
then, Hale thought his family should get a piece of the action.”

“The casino was the reason he killed a man? Just to get a share of the profits?” Paul
seemed dismayed; he’d been expecting something more dramatic, less ordinary than greed.

“The casino wasn’t built then—I don’t think it was even approved until after Tommy’s
death. Uncle Jimmy’s company didn’t get the contract to develop it until after my
dad died and we’d moved.”

“This guy beat a man to death and burned down his house just
in case
the casino got built and his family might make some money off it?” Paul’s frown mirrored
her own. “Eli Hale must have been pretty nuts to do that. Was he violent with his
family? Did he ever hurt you? Is that why your mom is so against you helping his daughter?”

Caitlyn pushed her chair back and stood. Wished the room had more space to move in.
“He was never violent. He was best friends with my dad. The best dad I knew—second
to mine, of course. He worked hard but he laughed hard, always put his family first.
He was—fun.”

“But he bludgeoned a man to death? You were just a kid. Maybe there was more going
on you didn’t know about. He was bipolar or something.”

“No. Lena would have used something like that for an appeal.” It took her six steps
to pass the bed and reach the bathroom. Another six back. “He confessed. Never changed
his story. All the evidence pointed to him. Except my father couldn’t believe Eli
was guilty.”

“Did your father have proof?”

She shook her head, straining to piece together the fragments of memory, newspaper
articles she’d read once she was old enough to find them on her own, and the transcript
of Eli’s sentencing. “No. He was with Eli that night but there was still a window
of opportunity so it didn’t hold up as an alibi.” Another six steps. And six steps
back. She stopped in front of Paul. “But there should be a better motive. A crime
like that is personal, intimate.”

“Is that what Lena was here to research? Her dad’s case?”

“No. Lena researched her dad’s case already. Found no evidence of his innocence and
nothing to base an appeal on. Plus, he maintained his guilt right up until he died—they
had a huge fight at Butner a few weeks ago and she told him she finally realized he
was guilty and she wasn’t going to keep wasting her life on him. That was about the
time she started researching Eastern Band Cherokee tribal archives from the eighteen
hundreds.”

“Wait. You lost me. Eli Hale is guilty—he says it and everyone believes him, including
his own daughter. So what do Indian archives from over a century ago have to do with
anything?”

“I’m not sure. Her roommate said it was research for a law review article. Tied in
to a Supreme Court ruling about the freedmen in Oklahoma.”

“The same case everyone thinks got the tribal elder killed back in 1988?”

“It finally made its way through the court system.” She had no clue what a case about
an Indian tribe in another state had to do with Lena’s disappearance. And no good
ideas about where to start looking. “Maybe you could help me with that? Do some online
research about what Lena was researching and see who she might be visiting here?”