Page 75 of Rough Stock
They watched the guy drop down into a brand-new BMW sportster and back out, and Amber followed him at a distance. He drove four blocks down the street and pulled into a larger, nicer hotel’s parking lot. As soon as Amber could get the car parked, she jumped out. “He doesn’t know me. I’ll follow him in and let you know where he goes.” Before Shyanna had a chance to argue, the girl was gone.
In three minutes, she was back. “He’s in room three twenty-eight, and there’s a back stairwell.”
“Then I’m going. You two stay here,” Shyanna ordered.
“I’m coming with you,” Amos announced.
Shyanna shook her head. “No, you?”
“I’m coming with you. No discussion.” In seconds, he was trailing behind her as they headed to the back staircase.
The stairwell spit them out at the end of the hallway on the third floor. With cat-like stealth they walked quietly, looking at the doors until they found the right one. Standing to either side of the door, Shyanna knocked while Amos leaned against the wall.
The door opened a crack and two eyes behind glasses peered out. “Can I help you?”
Shyanna opened her jacket so the butt of her shotgun showed to only him. “Yeah. Open this door or I’m going to pull this thingand I won’t be using it to talk to you.” He tried to shut the door, but Amos’s foot was in the way. “That’s not very hospitable.”
He glanced from Shyanna to Amos, then opened the door. Shyanna stepped in first and drew the shotgun out as Amos followed and closed the door behind her. “What do you want?” the man asked.
“I want to know where JensenStrader is.”
The look on the man’s face was no act. Shyanna could tell he had no idea. “Who?”
“JensenStrader. Tall cowboy, roper and rough stock rider.”
“Who are you?” the man asked.
“None of your damn business. I want to know where Jensen is.”
“Lady, I have no idea,” the man said.
“I know what’s going on between you, Max, and the rodeo association.”Time to call his bluff, Shyanna thought. “I’ve already talked to JimmyFuller.”
The man sat down hard on the bed and sighed. “I should’ve known these dumbass cowboys couldn’t handle an operation like this,” he said, his voice full of scorn as he stared at his hands.
“You’d better watch what the hell you say,” Amos growled.
“You two don’t seem too bright or you wouldn’t be here threatening me,” he said.
“Oh yeah?” Shyanna grinned. “I should tell you, I’ve been in MaxBarlow’s motel room and I know where that shit came from. So you’re already implicated. Still think I’m a dumb cowboy?”
He stared up at her and then laughed. “Wait! I know who you are! You’re the cowgirl they’ve been trying to get rid of! ShyannaOwens!”
Shyanna completely lost her patience. With the shotgun barrel pressed under his chin until his head was forced back, she whispered in a hiss, “You don’t know shit. If you want tobe around to serve your prison term, you’d better start talking. Where’s JensenStrader?”
“I really have no idea.” He wasn’t lying. She almost told him she knew he was telling the truth, but he stopped that with, “Whatever’s happened to him, I’m sure Max is responsible.”
“I’d already figured that out. So here’s how this is going to go. You’re coming with us. And we’re going to find Max. When we do, you’ll have one last chance. Got that?” Shyanna said, shoving the shotgun barrel even harder into the flesh under his chin. He nodded as best he could. “Okay. Here we go. Don’t try anything ridiculous or I’ll be forced to shoot you, and I won’t mind a bit.”
Amos led the way down the hall until they reached the end. He held the door as the man and Shyanna stepped through. As they headed down the stairs, Shyanna asked, “So what’s your name?”
“Wallace. Wallace Bergman.”
“Wallace Bergman. I know what name to tell them to put on your tombstone. You got a family? Wife? Kids?”
She heard him snort. “I’ve got a BMW sportster.”
“Keep you warm at night?” Amos asked.
