Page 108 of Simon Says

What he said made sense. “So you haven’t seen Marvin at all?”

Dakota could hear him breathing during another extended pause. Finally, he said, “You listen to me, girl. Sometimes in life, you don’t have a choice. It’s not about what you want or don’t want. Get Simon to come to me. Or at least get him to call me again. It’s important. Youwillregret it if this doesn’t work out.”

“That sounds an awful lot like a threat, Barnaby.”

“No!” He seemed almost panicked. “Give me his number. I’ll call him. Just let me grab a pen and paper—”

Squeezing her eyes shut, Dakota said, “If you bother Simon or me again, I’ll contact the police. I’ll tell them everything and let them decide if you’re involved or not. I mean it, Barnaby. Don’t test me.” She closed the cell phone, disconnecting the call.

For a few minutes, Dakota sat on the edge of the bed and considered Barnaby’s last warning. What did he need with Simon? Would she ever know?

She looked at the phone in her hand. The thought of calling Marvin made her pulse trip. He wouldn’t tell her anything, but maybe he’d give himself away somehow. He liked to brag, almost as much as he liked to bully.

Carefully, Dakota set the phone on the nightstand. She wouldn’t call him.

Not yet.

When Simon returned, she’d tell him what Barnaby had said, and he could decide what he wanted to do. For now, Dakota only wanted to eat, and then sleep. Unfortunately, she didn’t feel like going out for food, and sleep proved elusive. Visions of Barnaby and Marvin kept intruding. She managed to block them only by concentrating on Simon—and missing him.

He was right. This would be a very long trip.

DAKOTAfound Barber at the bar of Roger’s Rodeo. He sat facing the crowd with his long, jean-covered legs extended. He’d hooked his left elbow on the edge of the bar behind him, and in his right hand, he held a drink.

Dakota followed his line of vision and saw that he studied a group of women gathered together.

She approached without his notice, and poked him in the ribs.

He barely stirred. Only his gaze moved toward her, but then went back to the gaggle of flirting women. “Look at them, Dakota. You’d think there’d be one in the bunch, huh?”

Dakota had no idea what he meant. Seating herself on a stool beside him, she asked, “One what?” She glanced at the women again, but all she saw was that they were youngish, attractive, and outgoing.

“One worth bothering with. One that’d spark some interest. But nope. They’re all out of the running.”

“The running for…your attention?” she guessed, trying to gauge his odd mood.

“Yeah.”

“So what puts them out of the running?” The bartender approached and she ordered a plain cola. “They all look nice enough to me.”

“You aren’t a guy, that’s why.” He tipped his head. “The sexy one with the long hair? She’s a smoker. Do you know what it’s like to kiss a smoker?”

“Um, no.”

“Like sucking on an ashtray. It’s gross.”

Dakota smothered her grin. “I had no idea.”

“And look at the fake fingernails on that blonde.”

“High maintenance?” Dakota guessed.

“Scars on my back.”

“Oh.” Dakota took a sip of her drink, trying not to imagine that. “I can see where that’d be bad.”

“The one with the short hair has fake boobs. I hate fake boobs. They feel like footballs.”

Dakota choked. “They do not.”

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