Forever (22 page)

Running the hotel, engaging in the routine while Harold and Francine were away,
soothed her. Up early to fix a non stomach-upsetting breakfast, checking for reservations, helping Joyce if the need arose, welcoming and checking in guests, ensuring the lobby was tidy and appealing. She ate her other meals whenever it made sense, and when she was hungry, in between the parts of the job, like ordering supplies and taking phone calls. It was steady work, not onerous, and wasn’t really boring with the exception of the long periods of time between guests arriving and departing. People watching became her thing, from behind the boundary of the counter. There were a few late calls, fewer in the night, and for minor things, like batteries for the remote.

Her bosses called every day, but Amy didn’t get the sense they were checking up on her. Their
brief holiday was marred by inclement weather, but Harold was determined Francine rest and use the time away wisely. She found herself missing them, like the family she didn’t remember. Joyce didn’t have much time to chat, but sometimes they’d have a coffee, tea for Amy now. The other woman was overtly curious, but not in a malicious way and was easily diverted. All in all, it was a wonderful opportunity to regroup.

The ping of the bell over the door jarred her from her reverie, yanking her into the present. A young man in a dark uniform pushed through into the lobby, hefting a toolbox. “Tom
, from Western Cable and Ethernet.”

It didn’t seem possible so much time had passed while she was off in her head. Amy showed him the rough map she’d drawn of the motel property, complete with measurements obtained from Harold before he left. It was an easy install, so Tom assured her, and set to work. Amy organized the paperwork and entered it into the old computer. She hoped to encourage her bosses to invest in a new one after the carpet installation, but attempted to throttle back on her involvement. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Harold and Francine saw her as a pseudo
-daughter, seeing as their only child, Louise, died of cancer years ago. You should never outlive your children, she mused, feeling badly for the pair. She was honored to have them as adoptive parents, albeit for a short time.

Her own child wasn’t yet really noticeable, at least not to people who hadn’t known her before. Amy noticed her waist thickening a trifle, her breasts a bit larger, the nipples certainly more sensitive, and her stomach often dipped and roiled in reaction to certain foods and teeth brushing, but she wasn’t quite three months along. Close though. The purchased prenatal vitamins were tucked out of sight in a drawer, as she wasn’t yet ready to share with Harold and Francine. And Joyce would shriek the news to the heavens. In any event, she soon needed to find a place to live more permanently in order to find a doctor. Lots of things to consider. She was cautiously examining the combined fear and elation of impending motherhood. Alone.

“Miss? Want to test signal strength? I’ve tied in with the phone service.”

Amy logged on and was pleased with the result. “Hang on a second.” Poking her head out the lobby door, she spied Joyce’s cart two units down. It took barely a minute to rap on the door and for Joyce to pull it open.

“Hey, Amy!”

“Keep an eye on the desk, Joyce, please. I’m going to take my laptop to the last unit and test signal strength. It’s empty right?”

“Sure is. I’ll head straight to the office. You’re sure yanking The Restaway into this century. Not sure our guests will value wireless but—”

Joyce was still talking when she disappeared into the office. Amy grabbed her laptop, locking her room door behind her, heading to number twenty. Another couple of minutes and she was satisfied. She badly wanted to check her email account, having dispatched explanatory notices to present clients, refunding their money where appropriate. But she didn’t want to be tempted into opening one that would give her whereabouts away. She knew Randy’s skills. The FBI couldn’t track her down
as quickly.

All of her hours alone in the queen sized bed in Unit One, the ones when she wasn’t actually sleeping, were fraught with memories of Dean. Oh
, she fought them, and usually managed to banish them behind that mythical wall she built, for a time. Then his face would pop up and display on the back of her eyelids, yanking her out of preparation for sleep. The memory of his hands on her, inside her, his mouth … and his cock, driving her over the edge. The most disconcerting thing was waking in front of the door, hands pressed flat, forehead resting between them against the cool surface. Wanting to go to Dean. Looking for him. It happened time and again, interrupting her fitful rest.

And she was so tired all the time
, anyhow. It was a good thing her job wasn’t onerous, and afternoon naps were sometimes possible. Amy missed Dean fiercely, at least the man who didn’t wear that murderous expression the last time she saw him. She missed being with him, missed the sex. Amy tried not to pleasure herself to fantasies about Dean, but she did, coming hard, shuddering against her release, but without any joy. She hated him, too.

“I think it’s good, Tom.” She set her laptop down on the counter and nodded to the tech. Joyce hurried out, calling her farewells.

“I’ll leave my card. Be sure to call if anything needs adjusting.” He chuckled. “That lady thinks it’s magic and incantations.”

Amy smiled
, too. Tom packed up and headed out and she turned her attention back to the never ending paperwork.

Chapter Eleven

“So she called me.” Sandra stomped past
Dean and dumped her coffee into the sink, turning the tap on full to rinse it. She was wrapped in a robe, and he supposed she’d worked the night shift, so that meant he’d woken her. Certainly she looked tired, as anyone would after just a couple hours of sleep. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t. But I guessed she’d call you at some point so I planned to keep checking.” He didn’t want to drop Enrico in the shit. He chose to stand in the middle of her kitchen, forcing her to find a way around him as she moved. “How is she, Sandra?”

“Okay.”

“I know she’s pregnant.”

Silence reigned, broken only by the soft gurgle of the remainder of the water as it swirled down the drain, and the humming of the fridge. Sandra stared at him, a myriad of emotions flashing in her eyes. “Who told you?”

“I found the test. I didn’t know if it was positive or not,
although I hoped…So thanks for confirming it.”

Unable to pretend anymore, h
e slumped into the nearest chair, and passed a hand over his face. “I’ve been going insane.”

Dean didn’t give a shit about macho male posturing at that moment, wasn’t afraid to show his feelings. If he thought he could shake the information out of Sandra he would, but he knew better. And Enrico wasn’t a man to cross, despite his youth. Sandra was young too, about Amy’s age, maybe a couple of years older, and surely
, he could appeal to her soft side.

“She’s fine. She didn’t want you to know because you’d pull this.”

“Pull what?” He worked hard to keep the threat from his voice.

“Hunt her down because you knocked her up. Your kid and all. Male pride.” Sandra’s voice was derisive
, but Dean detected a plea buried beneath the snark. A plea for him to dispute her.

“I’m looking for her because I fucked up, Sandra. I was searching before I knew about the baby. You fucking know that. I didn’t trust Amy and that was fucking stupid. I kicked her out. I kicked my pregnant woman out of our home.”

“And you took this long to come and tell me this? You sent your boy instead?”

Dean shook his head. “I just found out. Home pregnancy test in the garbage. I’ve been looking for her since the day after I threw her out, Sandra. A baby just ups the ante. Help me.”

Sinking down at the kitchen table, Sandra dropped her face into the cradle of her hands. Dean sat opposite her and waited. He knew a battle of conscience when he saw one. Despite his history, he, too, struggled from time to time, moreso since his relationship with Amy had developed into something serious. She was so earnest in her belief of the golden rule. Without the
eye for an eye
part, unless he was mixing his parables.

The words, when they came, were muffled. “I don’t know where she is, but I know she’s not living. She’s in some kind of twilight state. She sounded like a freaking cheerleader, all fake happy. Desperate.” Sandra raised her head and locked eyes with him. “Amy loves you, Dean. She was the making of you. And you completed her.”

Nothing he didn’t know. Nothing he hadn’t tortured himself with, but the additional flagellation by Sandra’s wasp tongue was expected. She loved Amy, too, and hadn’t betrayed her. Dean heard her out, holding onto his temper, being as patient as he knew. “I know it, Sandra. All of it. I need to find her. She needs me, especially now.”

“I’ll try, when she calls again. Maybe she’ll listen.”

“Tell me about the call.” He wasn’t leaving until he heard everything.

“She called, said she was fine. Bullshit. I told you. She’s working and the people are kind.”

“What kind of work?” Dean asked every question occurring to him, dissected every word Sandra remembered, to no avail. He froze. “Did she call you on her cell?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Why?”

Damn it. Amy’s phone had been offline for weeks. Dean believed she’d either tossed it, lost it, or hadn’t bought another charger, the one for her little cell still plugged in by the nightstand. He pulled out his own.

“Randy? Get Lee to do the GPS search again. Use his contacts with the provider. Amy called Sandra and might have used her cell.” He confirmed the date with Sandra and passed it on. Amy hadn’t cracked her computer that they’d been able to tell—certainly she hadn’t opened even one of the emails he’d sent and
asked Randy and Andrea send, not that Andrea wasn’t already reaching out.

“Will do. And Dean? You were right about the city not doing those fucking curbs. I’ll meet you at the usual place and we’ll talk.”

Fuck. It never rained, but it poured. “I’ll be there. Pull someone in to sweep the place.” He turned to Sandra, watching him with a peculiar expression on her face. Dean raised a brow as he shut the call down.

“You’re a ruthless son of a bitch, Dean Chambray. You think you’re able to juggle your various lives right now, but at some point it’ll come down to the job or Amy again. You think on that. And tell that Enrico not to come around. He’s got your stamp on him. I’m not going down that path.”

Dean nodded. Sandra was nothing if not clear, and her assessment of his lifestyle right on the money. Maybe not so young after all, and as world-weary as Amy. But he couldn’t sort it out until he knew what was going down, and Amy was his priority.

“You’ll have to tell Enrico yourself, Sandra,” he said as gently as he could, marking the twist of pain on her face. “I’ll
have her call when I find her.”

****

Randy was already waiting for him at the bar. Dean had picked up a tail about four blocks from the place, so they were cruising, looking for him. He slid into the booth and the waitress brought him a beer.

“Minor says it’s some joker in the district attorney’s office looking to climb the ladder.
The guy’s related to some police official and they’re stroking him, letting him mount an investigation. Lord knows where he got your name in his sights. The asshole’s creative.” Randy rolled the bottom of the bottle across the coaster, the condensation marking the paper in little half circles.

Dean nodded. “How long?”

“Maybe another three days. There’s no will behind the asshole and the money and personnel will soon run out. The sweep found nothing, but Olsen turned an electrician away the day before yesterday. Wrong address. He remarked on it. I didn’t pay attention. My fault.”

“Enough fucking blame to go around, Randy. Let it go. We’ll let the asshole’s party play out, maybe point him at Unez. He thinks he’s my latest up
-and-coming competition. The two of them can dance.”

Randy nodded. “Should be easy enough. I’ll have a couple of the guys draw them a map to Unez’ place when he’s meeting with his crew.” A bark of a laugh. “With any luck there’ll be some stupid who acts out and the cops will have something to train on. Now I can get back to looking for our leak. Whoever it is, I’m not even getting a hint, but he’ll crawl out of his hole at some point.”

Dean nodded. If anyone could track that dead man down, Randy could. He asked his lieutenant the pressing question. “Amy?”

“She used her cell. Got a placement. Not an exact location but a block spread. Might need to wait for her to call again.”

“No. I’ll canvass myself once I lose my tail. She might have already moved on, but Sandra said she’s working so that speaks to her living there. I’m not waiting.” He only hoped she hadn’t driven far away from her new home to place the call.

“Well, good hunting
, buddy.” His right hand man looked pensive for a moment, and furrowed his brow. “Amy might not be interested in coming back.”

“I won’t be giving her the choice, Randy.
I’ll put fucking locks on the apartment if I have too.”

“Oh, man. This isn’t like when we held those guys until the siege broke.”

Dean nodded. “No, this is about bringing my woman home and spending time until she forgives me. I’m bringing her home, and I’m not letting her go.”

Silence. Dean didn’t think his plan was unsound. Finally, Randy spoke. “Okay
, then. But if you fail, and from the way Amy reacted that day, you just might, it could bring you down. You’ll leave the business open to a coup because you’ll be with her to keep her calmed down, or you’ll be in jail on kidnapping charges.”

“Noted.” Dean took the coordinates and went home to pack a bag.

Trading his ride for an SUV at a prearranged point, he ditched the half-hearted efforts of the tail. One of his crew, similar in size and coloring, swerved the truck into traffic, following orders to return to the office after a lengthy scenic trip. Dean sat behind the wheel of the black SUV and watched his vehicle, and the blue sedan, convoy down the street before turning in the opposite direction, the GPS programmed. He thought about Randy’s warning. His second in command was right and Dean knew it. He could ill afford to take a lengthy time period away from the business given the recent interest by the bureaucrat, and kidnapping Amy might not be the best plan in the long run.

But he knew his woman. She’d have talked herself out of them as a couple to protect herself—and their baby—from what he’d done, and Amy was stubborn. Stubborn in her refusal to give up on him, insisting he was a good person, a man she had total faith in to make the right choices in life, do the right things in the end. She didn’t approve of his shadier business activities
, yet didn’t nag him or dwell over much on that side of his life because she had faith and accepted what she couldn’t change without considerable consequences, aware of the balance in life. He regretted, more than ever, never finding the right time to tell her the whole story. She’d simply accepted his edict to get gone, delivered as it had been. That stubbornness alone might defeat a lesser man.

The miles flew by, and not just because of his heavy foot. Dean thought of
the scenarios he might be faced with, would have to address, deal with. Worse case was that Amy found a protector, and Dean might be forced to do something drastic, something she would definitely object to. He decided not to consider that scenario, because it was his possessiveness talking, his crippling need for her. It was too early in the game for Amy to be with anyone else, if he deserved any luck at all.

Best case, she was working a job, living hand to mouth, and could be extricated without much fuss. The people she worked for might be kind, but kindness was no obstacle or consideration for him when it came to bringing her home.

The pretty city streets of Santa Rosa soon enveloped the SUV. He saw the coordinates coming up and slowed his speed, spirits sinking when the strip mall came into view. Shit. Fuck. At least thirty stores, a couple of restaurants, a bowling alley and some office space. Not to mention a few decrepit houses on the edge of the mall property and across the street. The good news was, it wasn’t all private housing; sometimes it was difficult to persuade a homeowner to allow access. Dean decided Amy must have called Sandra while at work, just to be optimistic. He parked the vehicle and pulled up a Google map to reconnoiter from overhead, noting the relative compactness of his search area. He’d start with a restaurant, feed the inner man and work his way from there. Maybe he
should have
brought a few of his crew.

****

“More coffee?” The waitress smiled at him, an obvious come on. Dean didn’t have time for it, although could have charmed the information out of her. He shook his head and reached for his wallet.

“I’ll just bring your bill.” A hint of snip in her tone.

Sighing inwardly, Dean gave her his best
get on your knees
look. It never failed, except sometimes with Amy. The waitress blinked and tried another smile. He pulled the picture of Amy out and showed it, pulling one up on his phone, too.

“Private investigator. Looking for this woman.” He’d decided to play it as it felt right, and looking for his
wife
wouldn’t work with Susie the waitress. Amy wasn’t his wife yet, but she would be.

Susie took the little square of celluloid with fastidious care, scanning it. “Is she in trouble?”

Trouble? Or maybe needed to be found because of an inheritance? Amnesia? Trouble, he decided. Amy was too beautiful for this woman to feel kindness toward. “Took off with something that didn’t belong to her.”

“Oh. And
you’re
looking for her? Not the police?” Well, there was that. Susie apparently wasn’t stupid.

“The owner is impatient.” True.

“I see. Well, she doesn’t eat here, or at least not as a regular. I’d remember.”

“Can you check with the other staff?’ Dean hinted about a reward. Susie obligingly took the picture to the other waitresses and even showed it to the cook.

“Nobody remembers her.” A trace of sadness in her voice, but over the money, Dean was certain. “Do you want to leave your number?”

He dropped a business card into her outstretched hand, along with the money for the food and a fair sized tip. She squinted at the card in an unattractive manner. “Dean Chambray? Investment and Insurance services? I thought you said—”

“This
is
about an investment, Susie. Call me if you see her and I’ll make it worth your while.”