Page 85 of Cowboy Heat


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“So he thinks the sheriff’s department can’t be trusted,” Lee confirms.

I turn my attention toward the front of the house. “Yeah, but we also have a more immediate problem.” I lower my voice and hope to high heaven that I’ve been correct in thinking whoever has driven up hasn’t left their car yet. I’m glad for my flat shoes and light step. Nothing creaks or groans as I quickly go into the foyer and up to one of the glass panes that runs alongside the door. An old drape set is bolted to each pane. I move the one on the right ever so slightly.

It doesn’t talk long to confirm two things.

The men are still in their car.

It’s the same two from the cemetery.

My hands shake as another wave of adrenaline runs through me.

“The two men who chased us are outside of the house sitting in their car,” I say. “And if things repeat themselves, then I think they might try to take me when they come in.”

“You can run now. Through the back and into the trees again.” Lee says it like it’s an option.

It’s not.

“No. I can’t carry Beau,” I say, simply.

Lee doesn’t fight me on that. I think I like him. “If you can’t run, then you need to look for something to fight them with. You said one had a knife?”

“Yes. The other had a gun.”

Lee makes a teeth-sucking noise. The kind of noise someone makes when they’re thinking and they don’t like what they’re thinking about. “Well, that sucks. Do you or Beau have anything?”

My purse is back in my car next to Renard Cemetery. I don’t even have my phone. “I don’t. Let me check Beau.”

I give one last glance at Grant and his friend. I think I’d feel more comfortable if they weren’t just sitting there and chatting. But they are, so I’m going to use the free time to my advantage.

Beau’s breathing, but still dead to the world for the moment. He doesn’t stir at all as I pat him down.

“Nothing,” I say. “Only his wallet.”

My free time is up no sooner than I finish saying the last syllable.

Two car doors shut.

“They’re out of their car,” I hurry, dropping my voice to a whisper. “We’re locked inside but—”

“That won’t stop them,” he finishes. “Can you use anything in the house to fight them?”

I shake my head. No time to answer.

Not when I have a new grand idea.

I hurry out of the bathroom, lock the door, and shut it tight behind me. I try the handle, and it doesn’t budge.

Then I walk-run to the stairs. My foot is on the second step when the door handle jiggles behind me. I’m nearly to the top when a hear one of the windows next to it shatter. The space isn’t big enough for someone to come through, but it’s sure fine for a hand to snake through and around to undo the lock.

“Kissy?” Lee’s voice has downgraded to a whisper too.

I hit the second-floor landing and thank every single part of my memory for its gift of retention.

I remember the floorplan from work.

I’m guessing Grant and Company can’t claim the same.

“No weapons, but maybe I can use the house as one.” I hurry into one of the guest bedrooms that has a Jack and Jill bathroom between it and its neighbor. “I know this place,” I add on. “I don’t think they do.”