Page 13 of A Daddy for Christmas 2: Kitt

Jazz himself had to get involved to keep his father from trying to have Kitt committed to a private sanitarium. He’d promised his father he’d watch over Kitt and not let him “ruin the family name.” That had been the story we were given, anyway.

Things had only gone from bad to worse since the old man’s death, though. Jazz said he still wanted to do right by his brother and help support him, but Kitt was fighting him every step of the way. Jazz had kept the guardianship intact, mainly as a means of keeping tabs on Kitt, but that only added to Kitt’s deep resentment. He said that Kitt had threatened to hire lawyers to help him break the old man’s will. Jazz said he wasn’t really worried about it, because it was iron-clad, but he did worry about Kitt’s well-being. And so far, he’d given me no reason to doubt that he meant what he said.

Jazz told us he’d been worried sick about him since he ran away and had hired our agency to track him down. He said he wanted me to get his brother back home, “by any means necessary.”

“I’m getting married at Christmas,” Jazz told me. “My fiancé and I are having a huge wedding, with a reception afterward at the Dunwoody Country Club, and I’d like this all to be finished and cleared up by then, with Kitt safely in custody. My fiancé’s parents are very socially conscious, so there can’t be any hint of a scandal involving my family.”

Jazz also told me that he knew that his brother had an old roommate who lived now in Albuquerque and thought he might have gone there, which gave me a good place to start looking. It only took me a week to find him, and if I could do it in a week, even considering I had the advantage of the tip from his brother, it probably wouldn’t take anybody else too long either.

What Kitt didn’t know was that when he’d handed me his bag in that friend of a friend’s apartment, I had slipped a tracking device inside it, and he’d never even noticed. I’d figured it would be good idea to keep track of him when we got into the busy places, like the airport, never dreaming he was already planning an escape.

Since I wasn’t in a big hurry, I rented another vehicle once I got back to the hotel and had it delivered. I figured he’d probably drive all night to put as much distance as he could between us, but he’d have to stop and rest sometime. I wondered how much money he had left and decided it probably wasn’t all that much, from the glimpse I’d had inside his wallet.

I wasn’t feeling too tired, so I decided to just start driving after him. The radio was playing Christmas songs, which got a little old after a while, so I turned it off. By that time, it was well after midnight. I stopped by a QuikTrip for a cup of strong coffee and a sandwich then headed west on I-40, following his trail. Kitt was headed slightly northwest, according to the tracking device, so I planned on seeing how far I felt like driving before stopping at a motel. I was willing to admit that I couldn’t wait to get my hands on Kitt again, but I wanted to be at my best when Idid. I was still angry. Since when had I been so damn careless? I should have had him cuffed the entire time I had him, instead of being distracted by his pretty face.

He’d played me for a fool, but I was worried, because he could really be in danger. Though I hated to admit it, there was a little vein of hurt running through all that anger and worry. But there was a lot of anger too. I admitted to myself that I was feeling like I had something to prove.

In the words of some old actor in a late-night movie I saw once, “I got this badge, I got this gun, and I got the love of Jesus right here in my pretty green eyes.” Mine were blue, but close enough. As far as I was concerned, Kitt was a “felon” and a “fugitive” for sure now, because he had run away from me illegally after I’d clearly identified myself, and he had then assaulted me when I came to lawfully retrieve him.

I managed to make it into Arizona before I got almost too tired to keep going. I found an I-Hop and had breakfast, with eggs, bacon, grits, hash browns, biscuits, and lots of orange juice and coffee, even though it was midafternoon. Feeling energized again, I got back on the road, wondering where the hell he thought he was going. He had finally pulled off the road not too far from Flagstaff.

I followed his signal and was glad to see the car he’d stolen from me hadn’t moved in a while. He’d been on the road a long time, and he must have needed to rest. It had been over twenty-four hours by this time since he skipped out on me in Albuquerque and since he’d presumably not slept, other than perhaps getting a quick nap in a rest area, he should be exhausted by now.

I used the tracking device to direct me to a motel that was close to I-40, inexpensive, large and impersonal. With few cars in the parking lot so early in the day, it didn’t take long to find my SUV that he’d stolen. I pulled into a space next to it and satthere a moment trying to figure out what I should do next. A quick look inside the car showed the bag was with him in a room somewhere. I decided to drive back to the front and just ask which room he was in at the front desk.

The obligatory Christmas tree sat in a corner of the small lobby, as Christmas music played softly in the background. The young girl working behind the counter widened her eyes at the sight of my deliberately flirtatious smile.

“Hello, miss, I wonder if you can help me out?” The girl, who had soft brown hair, a Christmas sweater and a big smile leaned toward me, nodding. Her expression indicated she would be glad to help me out with pretty much anything I wanted.

“My younger brother checked in about an hour ago. His name is Kitt Devlin. I’ve arrived a little early and wanted to surprise him. Can you tell me his room number?”

“Oh, I remember him,” she said, seemingly happy to be accommodating. Like I thought he would, the little dumbass had used his real name. “The cute boy with the dark hair?”

I winked at her. “That would be him. Oh, and can I get a key to the room now too, if it’s not too much trouble?”

The girl looked uncertain. “Well, we’re really not supposed to do that without calling the room first.”

I flashed a smile again. “I understand. It’s just that I really wanted to surprise him, but I don’t want to get you in any trouble. I’m actually a police officer myself, so I certainly know what it is to have rules and regulations to follow.”

Her expression brightened. “You’re a police officer?” She looked me over appreciatively. “Well, I guess since you’re his big brother and all, it actually wouldn’t hurt anything, just this one time.” She reached under the desk and pulled out a slim piece of plastic, punched some numbers into the computer and then swiped the card before handing it to me. “Here you go, sir. He’s in room 323, all the way around the back. You can justpark anywhere back there. There aren’t any other guests on that hallway at the moment.”

Convenient if he tried to run, though that would give me a great reason to beat his little ass again. I took the card and slipped it into my pocket. “Thanks so much. I’ll be sure to tell the manager how helpful you’ve been.”

A blush stained her cheeks, and for a moment I felt a little guilty. I consoled myself with the knowledge that I really was working on behalf of the police and the court, and Kitt was in contempt. She was on the right side of the law here.

With a little wave, I went back outside and drove around to the back of the hotel.

It was getting to be late afternoon by then, and I ducked my head when I got out of the car, on the off chance Kitt might be looking out the window. I crossed over to where my rental was parked. I squatted down by the front tire and slipped a GPS tracking device under the front wheel, just in case Kitt somehow managed to give me the slip again but didn’t take his bag. I firmly believed in backup.

I used the key to get in the side door and took the elevator to the third floor. After locating Room 323, I listened outside for a moment. I could hear a TV inside, but no other light showed beneath the door. Tensing my muscles a bit, I slipped the key in the lock and let myself in.

The first thing I heard was Kitt’s soft snores coming from the bed. The room was dark, with the curtains pulled shut and a TV flickering on the wall. Kitt was in the middle of a king size bed, almost lost in a mound of pillows, a sheet pulled up across his waist. I walked quietly over to the bed and stood looking down at him. Even now, exhausted, his face lined with weariness, he was still beautiful. His dark hair fell across his brow, and his lips were parted ever so slightly, his breath puffing slowly in and out, his hands lying on top of his chest.

I sat down beside him on the side of the bed. His wrists were still decorated with bracelets. I took one of them and pulled him over toward me. I was barely even surprised to see that he was naked.

“Wakey, wakey,” I said, leaning over to murmur in his ear.

He moaned and rubbed his eyes before blinking them open. I saw the exact moment my presence and more importantly, his situation, registered on him as his eyes shot open and he tried to get up or roll away. I tightened my grip.

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