Page 116 of Winter Vows

“Not as far as I could throw you.”

“Well, that’s too bad, because you’re going to have to.”

“Then you can forget all about your pills, Paul. I won’t even bother showing up. Your decision.”

She braced herself for an explosion. Her words hung in the air, leaving them stalemated. Silence fell. It went on for so long that she feared she’d overplayed her hand. But desperation for the pills finally won out.

“Okay, I’ll bring him,” he said at last. “But if you betray me, Kelsey, if the cops show up, I’ll shoot you both and then I’ll kill myself. No one will be able to save either one of you.”

A chill ran down her spine at his words, not just because of the threat itself, but because of the I-have-nothing-to-lose way in which he said it. She knew then with a terrible sense of dread that any remnants of the decent man she’d once loved and married were gone, lost to the drugs that now tragically ruled his life.

Eleven

Dylan finally caught a break just before dawn at a sleazy motel on the northern outskirts of Garden City. The grizzled proprietor of the place looked like something out of an old Western. He wasn’t especially pleased to have someone banging on his door in the middle of the night, which probably explainedhis cantankerous attitude.

Dylan noticed he didn’t seem to have much interest in upkeep or in attracting business. He valued his guests’ privacy so much, he didn’t bother with a register or credit cards, either. But for the fifty bucks Dylan waved in front of him, he was eager enough to talk about the guests in room eight.

“Been here since late yesterday afternoon,” he told Dylan. “Cute kid. Keeps crying for his mama, though. That father of his doesn’t have much patience for it, either. I’ve heard him yelling at the boy to shut up.”

Dylan saw red. “You didn’t go down and check it out?”

The man shrugged. “None of my business.”

Dylan bit back an angry retort. “Are they there now?”

“What do you think? It’s early. I suppose they’re asleep like everyone ought to be, if you catch my meaning.”

Dylan ignored the sarcasm. “But you don’t know for sure?”

“Do I look like the nosy type?” the old man retorted. “People come and go. It’s none of my concern, as long as the room’s paid up.”

“If anything has happened to that boy, if there’s so much as a bruise on him, it’ll become your concern in a hurry,” Dylan told him tightly. “Now give me a key.”

“Can’t do that,” the man replied.

Dylan reached across the counter and grabbed a fistful of the man’s hastily donned and still unbuttoned shirt. “Give me a key or I’ll knock down the damned door.” He got the key. “What kind of a car was the man driving?” he asked.

“Something flashy. Surprised me that a man with a car like that would stay in a dump like this.”

Dylan walked to room eight, surveying the parking lot as he went. There were only a handful of cars parked outside the rooms and none could be described as flashy.

Outside room eight, Dylan listened at the door. He thought he heard the sounds of the television and maybe something else, possibly a child’s whimpers. Just as he was about to open the door, a dark green sports car skidded into the spot in front of the room and a man he recognized at once as Paul James leapt out.

“Who the hell are you?” he demanded.

“A friend of Kelsey’s,” Dylan said, keeping his voice down. “I’ve come for Bobby.”

“Like hell,” Paul said, taking a swing at him. “Kelsey and I have a deal.”

“I just changed it,” Dylan countered.

To emphasize the point, Dylan’s fist landed in Paul’s pretty face. To his disappointment, the man sank to the ground like a stone. He’d been hoping to get in a few more punches. He stepped over him, opened the door and went inside. Bobby was huddled on the floor in front of the TV, clutching a stuffed bear, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks.

Dylan forced himself to stay calm and quiet, when he wanted badly to grab the boy up and hug him. He hunkered down. “Hey, Bobby.”

“Who’re you?” Bobby asked, regarding him suspiciously. “I heard you. You were fighting with my daddy. Where is he?”

“He’s right outside. He’ll be here in a few minutes.” He was tempted to touch Bobby’s forehead to see if he was as feverish as he looked, but he didn’t dare. The boy was upset enough. Dylan wondered how long he’d been left here alone.

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