Secure Location - By Beverly Long Page 0,8
with paint.”
“I guess it’s a good thing I’ve got some suits at the dry cleaners. I keep an extra pair of shoes at work, too. I can pick up the rest of what I’ll need in the short-term.”
“You’re being pretty calm about this,” he said.
She wasn’t calm. She felt exposed and dirty and it was a terrible thing to believe that somebody wanted to deliberately hurt her. When the threats had started, she’d been shaken. Who wouldn’t have been? She’d picked up her voice mail only to hear some distorted voice ramble on about killing her. Then she’d gotten a letter in the mail. Words cut out of a magazine and pasted on a page, just like in the movies. The message had been short but not sweet. You need to pay for what you did.
She’d wanted to tear up the letter and pretend that it had never come. But Charlotte had seen the mail—there was no going backward. Meg had shown Scott the letter and told him about the telephone message. Together, they’d called the police. When Detective Myers probed about possible suspects, she’d told him the truth. She had no idea.
She’d never suspected Cruz. Certainly hadn’t given Scott any reason to think that Cruz could be involved. But now he was caught up in it.
He deserved better. He’d always deserved better than her. The only solution was to get him to leave San Antonio.
“I need to see Scott,” she said, as he pulled the rental car into a stall in the parking deck. She could see the tightening of his jaw muscles.
“Do whatever you need to do,” he said, his voice stiff. “I’m going to get a room.”
She put a hand out, grabbing his bare arm. His skin was cold from the blasting air-conditioning and the muscles in his forearms were tight. It brought back sudden memories of cool naked skin and him balanced over her, weight on his arms, just before he took her.
She jerked her hand away. “Our rooms are really expensive,” she warned, her voice cracking.
He raised his eyebrows. “You think I couldn’t tell that from the lobby? I can afford it, Meg. I haven’t had much else to spend my money on this last year.”
She’d hurt him badly. It made her ache. “Well, you shouldn’t spend what you have here. Detective Myers seems very capable.” She got out of the car, shut the door hard, and quickly walked toward the garage elevator. He caught up with her in just a few strides.
“Why the hell don’t you want me here?” he demanded.
She whirled on him. “I hurt you, Cruz. I know that. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. But we both need to move on. And neither one of us can do that if you’re here.”
She could see the rapid beat of his heart in the hollow of his neck. “I won’t leave knowing that you’re in danger. I’m a good cop, Meg. I can help Myers. Let me start with the list of people who’ve been fired from this hotel in the last year.”
“That’s confidential information.”
“I don’t care. You’ve got an in with the boss,” he said, his voice getting loud. “He’s got the authority to give me the names. Ask him. Or I will.”
She let out a big huff of breath. Then she raised her index finger and pointed toward the lobby. “Fine.”
“I’m not sure what Myers asked for but I want name, address, phone, emergency contact information, title, dates of employment and reason they were let go. I imagine you’ve got all that in some database.”
They did. She nodded.
“Pictures, too,” he said.
“We don’t keep that in the human resources system.”
“Yeah, but I bet you do in your security system. Every time somebody gets their picture taken for a swipe card, a copy is probably stored in your system.”
“I’ll have to check. Detective Myers didn’t ask for them.”
“He should have,” Cruz said, shaking his head.
“He seems competent,” she said, not knowing exactly why she felt compelled to defend the detective. Maybe because she hadn’t been married to him and he didn’t have the ability to make her want the things she couldn’t have. “I’ll talk to Scott about the list.”
“Thank you.” His voice was softer now. “When you find out what room you’re staying in, I want the one next to it. Make sure there are interior connecting doors.”
She started to protest but he held up a hand. “It’s not going to do me much good if something happens and I’m sixteen