Lucky Streak (19 page)

And from what Clint had reported so far, it'd be damn hard for even a man of King Bobby's persuasive skills to get the detective to turn on his pretty lady.

“What else ya got?” King Bobby asked, pulling on a long sip of whiskey. The liquid burned, firing up his belly as much as his anger.

“Not much 'cept some background. Detective Corwin's got family in a small coastal town. A place called Stewart,” Clint said.

“You don't say…” King Bobby grabbed a pen and made notes. “Tell me more.”

He listened to Clint's irritating whine and scrawled the name of the town on the paper. He'd look the place up on a map and see if he could drive there. “Gimme an address.”

Clint hemmed and hawed.

“Spit it out, boy!”

“Corwin's father's address is unlisted.”

“Shit!”

“Yes, sir, but I'm working on finding it out,” Clint said, rushing to assure him. “Don't you worry, I'm on it,” the other man assured him.

“Quit kissin' my ass and find me that information!” King Bobby snapped his phone shut, then began slamming through drawers in the hotel room looking for a map, but all he found was a Bible. “I don't want to pray,” he muttered.

King Bobby downed the rest of his drink. “Maybe the concierge can git me a map or directions. Concierges are good at getting their hands on things.” Ripping the sheet of paper with the name off the pad, he folded it and slipped it into his pocket.

That yahoo Clint could keep digging until he found the lady or the cop's father, but King Bobby didn't have the patience to wait. “I'm gettin' closer. I can feel it.” With a little luck, by the time Clint uncovered anything, King Bobby would already have the pretty lady in his sights.

S
UNDAY MORNING DAWNED
bright and early. Mike woke surprisingly rested, considering the events of last night—which ended as quickly as they began. Shaken by his behavior, Uncle Thomas headed home, leaving Jason at his brother's house, something they all agreed would be okay for one night. Derek and Gabrielle took off. And Clara left after assuring Mike and Amber that Edward, though he refused to leave the boathouse, was calm and safe.

In the end, Mike and Amber ate a quick dinner alone and fell into bed exhausted, sleeping wrapped together until Mike's alarm went off at 6:00 a.m.

He didn't linger in bed, regardless of how much he wanted to. Instead, he showered and dressed then went downstairs to have a coffee with his cousin. Half an hour later, he went back up to wake Amber.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” He stroked her cheek and she stirred, her eyes fluttering open.

“It's time already?” she asked, pushing herself up against the pillows. The motion shifted her
shirt, leaving one ripe breast visible to Mike's hungry gaze.

He groaned and raised the material, covering her before he succumbed to the urge to place his mouth on her sweet skin. “Yeah, it's time. Jason's waiting for me in the kitchen.”

“And you're sure sharing your apartment with him in Boston is a good idea?” she asked. Poor Jason would get the couch.

Mike nodded. “Nobody will think to look for him there. It's a big city, not a small town. There's been so much unusual traffic here at my father's, Jason isn't comfortable staying here.

“I'm not surprised.”

Mike nodded. “I watched the national news this morning. The fact that he's tested positive is making headlines.” Mike frowned, recalling how much his normally carefree, happy-go-lucky cousin had withdrawn into himself as he'd watched the scandal retold over and over as they'd had coffee this morning.

“Poor Jason.” Amber swept her hair out of her eyes.

“Poor Jason can inadvertently lead King Bobby here to you if he makes the right connections. That's what worries me,” Mike said.

She shook her head, dismissing the notion. “You didn't meet the King. He's not that swift.”

“He isn't that stupid or he wouldn't have tracked you as far as L.A. Be smart,” Mike warned her.

“Okay, but I don't think it's me you need to worry about. I'm sure Thomas is already fending off the press this morning.”

Mike nodded. “But Thomas can handle himself. At least he can when he isn't dumbstruck by a woman,” he muttered. “I never thought I'd say this, but it's a damn good thing Edward disconnected his telephone line.”

Amber nodded. “I know. Nobody can call and bother him. Don't worry. I'll take good care of him,” she promised.

He couldn't stop the smile that pulled at his mouth. “I've seen you in action. I'm not worried about my father while you're around to protect him.” Mike grinned, recalling Amber's fierce expression when she'd forbidden his uncle Thomas from going near Clara Deveaux.

Her eyes lit up. “I think that's one of the nicest things you've ever said to me.”

“Well, you earned it.” Before he could get all emotional, Mike cleared his throat. “Now, remind me of the rules we set up for once I'm gone.”

Amber folded her arms across her chest. “I'll be fine. I know not to talk to strangers,” she said wryly, meaning the press, if they somehow showed up here.

“Okay, then.” Mike glanced at his watch. “I need to go, so humor me and recite the rules.”

She rolled her eyes. “Lay low. Don't go outside unless it's absolutely necessary. If it becomes nec
essary, don't go out without looking out the windows first and make sure nobody's lurking or watching the house,” she said, mimicking the instructions he'd given her more than once last night.

“Good. And if the press does show up?”

“Call the local police and then call you. You'll make sure the cops take me seriously.” She exhaled a frustrated breath at being treated like a child.

“I'm a cop. That's my job.” He leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on her pouting lips before rising. “Be safe,” he told her.

She smiled. “You, too.”

He inclined his head. “I'll call you,” he said and with a wave, he walked out the bedroom door.

 

A
MBER REMAINED
in bed long after Mike left with Jason.

I'm a cop. That's my job,
he'd said. The problem was, she wanted to be more to him than another person in need of protection. More than some poor woman he was helping so he could get her out of his life that much more quickly.

And despite how protective he was being now, she just couldn't be sure his actions weren't motivated by anything more than simply wanting to look after her. After all, she hadn't missed the way he closed down whenever he remembered her Las Vegas past.

No matter how much she helped him or his family, she was beginning to doubt whether anything
would be enough to overcome his feelings about her being a con and a cheat.

The rest of the day passed slowly, leaving Amber depressed, bored and feeling both useless and angry at herself for indulging in self-pity. She was a woman accustomed to being strong and working. A phone call to Paul earlier hadn't helped her mood, either. He'd been forced to hire a part-time college student to replace Amber, something she understood, considering she'd left him in the lurch when she'd run from Vegas and King Bobby. And if that guilt wasn't enough, Paul had reassured her that he'd been visiting her father daily in her place. She owed her friend more than she could ever repay.

She slept fitfully and when Monday morning dawned, the sky was as gray as Amber's mood. She'd already cleaned and straightened as much of Edward's house as he'd allow. Now she made herself busy wiping down the counters in the kitchen from the mess she'd created while making sandwiches for lunch. Amber stared out the window toward the lake, a place she'd come to love for its peace and serenity, elusive concepts where Edward Corwin was concerned.

Clara had shown up early this morning, refusing to leave at Edward's demand. Instead, she'd followed him from chore to chore, telling him about her life over the past years. She'd left her only other employee tending the shop she loved, and she wanted Edward to help her look for new space for
Crescent Moon. She said she planned to keep returning until Edward agreed.

“Good luck,” Amber said aloud.

But she admired Clara's persistence in going after the man she wanted.

Unlike Amber, who was herself in limbo, unable to move forward the way she dreamed, or even live in the present with Mike. Until King Bobby's threat was neutralized or one of Amber's contacts called back with information on Marshall, she was stuck here.

Now a little stir-crazy, she was even tempted to help Clara find store space herself. According to the older woman, the press had invaded Stewart in search of Jason Corwin, disgraced Olympic hopeful, or looking for quotes from people in his family and his past. With so many strangers in town, she figured nobody would give her a second look.

 

M
IKE WORKED
the early shift Monday and returned to his apartment to find his cousin crashed out cold on the couch. As company, Mike didn't mind Jason staying as long as he needed. But as a substitute for Amber, Jason Corwin came up short. Taking his cue from his cousin, Mike headed for bed, falling into a dreamless sleep.

He woke up the next morning to the loud sound of the TV blaring from the next room and immediately reassessed how he felt about his cousin's visit.

Mike padded barefoot into the room, picked up the remote and hit the off button.

“Hey!” Jason grumbled, annoyed.

“Keep it down, will you?” Mike asked.

“Sorry,” the other man muttered as he leaned back against the sofa, hands locked behind his head.

“I know. Anything new?” Mike asked, realizing he'd overreacted. He was antsy without Amber here, something he hated to admit.

Jason shook his head. “Not in my life. I'm just waiting for the reporters to lose interest. According to my father, they're out in full force. God knows what dirt they'll dig up if they ask the right questions.” He rubbed his palms against his eyes.

Mike couldn't imagine the pain his cousin must be feeling. “Everyone in town supports you. They aren't going to give the press anything negative to print.”

“Except the Corwin curse,” Jason muttered.

“There is that,” Mike agreed.

Silence followed that pronouncement until Jason spoke first. “I feel awful leaving Dad to take the heat.” Jason ran a hand through his hair and rose from the couch. “I should just go back and face the music.”

Certain Jason wasn't going anywhere, Mike sank into a chair. “I'd support that notion if your father wasn't such a strong man. He can handle himself and you know that or you wouldn't have gone into hiding in the first place. So just tell me one thing.”

Jason glanced over. “Name it.”

“Why
aren't
you out there facing the press?” Jason was the risk-taking cousin. The rebel who didn't give a damn what anyone thought. Or he had been.

“Because I want answers first. I need to know why the hell I tested positive. I have a hunch, but no proof. And since the Olympic committee is pretty strict when it comes to drugs, I don't have a hope in hell of qualifying.” He slashed his hand through the air and sent a tall candlestick Mike's mother had bought him onto the floor. “Oh, man, I'm sorry,” Jason said as he rushed to pick up the piece.

“Forget it.” Mike took the candlestick from his cousin's hand and set it back on the table. “Look, anything you need, background checks of competitors, whatever, I'm here.”

Jason shot him a look of gratitude. “I know that. I just need time to process the fact that it's probably over for me. And
you
need time with your new wife. Speaking of Amber…” He let out a wolf whistle. “She's one hot babe.”

Mike bristled at the crass description. “Lay off,” he warned his cousin.

Jason merely laughed, which didn't help Mike's mood. “Since I've sworn off the opposite sex, you have nothing to worry about from me. All I'm doing is admiring my cousin's taste in women. And from what I could see, the rest of the family agrees.” Jason
slapped Mike on the back the way he used to when he and Mike were kids. “The only one who doesn't seem happy about your marriage is you.”

Mike scowled, disliking the reminder. “Didn't I tell you how we met? Why she's running from a goon named King Bobby?”

Jason grinned. “Yeah, you did. But aren't I proof that circumstances and people aren't always what they seem?” Jason asked, his smile fading.

“That's different,” Mike said.

“Because you want it to be different.” His cousin eyed him intently. “Maybe you should be asking yourself why.”

Mike's cell phone rang, saving him from unwanted introspection. He answered the call, identifying the P.I. from Texas on the other end.

Five minutes later, Mike had all the sordid information he needed on the very married, very cheating King Bobby Boyd.

“You look like you got good news,” Jason said.

Mike nodded, acknowledging the rush of knowing he'd found what he needed to keep Amber safe.

“Does that mean you're going back to your wife?” Jason asked hopefully.

“Just when did you or any other Corwin become advocates for love and marriage?” The minute the words escaped, Mike wished he could take them back.

Love?

Whoa.

Who'd said anything about love? He had, obviously, but it wasn't what he'd
meant.
And though Jason looked at him funny, he wisely remained silent, leaving well enough alone.

“Earth to Mike,” the other man said at last. “I asked if you'd be leaving for Stewart soon?”

Mike shook his head. “Nope. There's no reason. Right now Amber is in good hands and I have to work.” And
not
put himself in temptation's path.

Jason snorted. “Yeah, you're right. Uncle Edward is more than capable of taking care of Amber if this King Bobby character shows up. Unless you already know where to find him?” he pointedly asked.

Rhetorical question, Mike thought.

Short of an APB, he had no choice but to wait for the man to rear his large cowboy hat. Mike glanced at his cousin. “You said the press is already in town?” he asked.

“'Fraid so. Asking questions about the
Corwin
clan.”

“Which ups the chances of the Texan showing up in Stewart rather than Boston,” Mike said.

“Where, with a few targeted questions, he'll end up at Uncle Edward's at some point.” Jason shot him a regretful glance. “I was just buying myself some time. I'm sorry, man,” Jason said.