Page 65 of Love on the Run

He smiled at her. “I’ll bet. Come on, sweetheart. This is no place to talk things over.”

Malcolm hustled a stunned and unresisting Callie down the hallway, to a large room that had been the hotel restaurant in former days. The windows looked onto the mountain, the deep slope already casting the hotel into shadow. There were two more men there, ones she’d never seen before. Skinner walked in slowly behind them, and soon the man who had driven the car to the hotel came in.

“Good,” Malcolm nodded, seeing everyone assembled. “You two, each get to a corner room where you can see the road. If anyone happens by, kill them.”

Callie blinked, both at Malcolm’s coldness and his audacity. But did he really think Jake would just drive up the road? But then, Malcolm didn’t know anything about Jake. Only she did. Callie kept her mouth shut.

“So. Fox, did Callie here give you and Skinner any trouble this morning?” Malcolm asked the other man.

“Nah.There was a guy with her, but we took care of him.”

“Was it the cop who had her in custody?”

“Doubt it. A black sheriff?”He laughed.

“Black?”Malcolm asked sharply.“Callie, who was the man with you?”

She stared sullenly at him, not opening her mouth.

“Callie,” Malcolm suddenly reached out and grabbed her neck, yanking her head back and twisting hard. “You’re already a bit bruised, and I don’t want to do anything to ruin your looks.Who was the man with you?”

“Ty?” she gasped, trying not to cry from the pain.

“Ty’s his name?” Malcolm released her neck.“Good girl.Who is he?”

Callie took a few gulping breaths, hoping to gain a second.Malcolm looked at her with a show of indulgence. “Come on, Callie.”

Callie was still aching, but she managed to look at Skinner when she spoke. “He’s a detective with the LAPD.”

“What?” Skinner yelped.

“I don’t believe you,” Malcolm growled. “That doesn’t make any sense. Don’t play games, little Callie.”

“Tyler Holt, Narcotics Division. Look it up. Call whoever the hell you got on your payroll. They’ll tell you. He knew all about you, Mal.”

Malcolm stared at her. “No shit.” He pulled out his phone as he continued to stare.“I think I’ll just make sure, Calliecat.”

He thought she was bluffing. Callie looked back at him, even managing to summon a little smile. Malcolm hit a number and waited until the person on the other end picked up.

“Hey, Ross. This is Foster. Run a name for me.” He paused, then spoke again. “Tyler Holt. H-O-L-T, I think. Is he one of yours?”

Everyone waited in silence. The minute stretched out interminably. Callie found herself shaking, despite her confidence in the truth.

“Okay. Thanks,” Malcolm said finally. He folded the phone. “Good thing I’ve never played poker with you, Callie. I thought you were putting me on.”

"I didn’t know he was a cop!” Skinner blurted, earning a hard stare from his boss.

"Exactly how did you take care of him, Skinner?”

“Shot him,” Skinner muttered, almost too low to be heard.

“You killed a cop?”

"It was a mistake. He might not be dead.”

“Oh?So you merely left a cop for dead in the godforsaken state of Montana.Is there a difference?”

“I didn’t know he was a cop!” he repeated desperately.

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