Wilde One (13 page)

Parnell closed his eyes. “God, I’m an idiot. Hey, thanks. He pulled out his wallet and extracted a business card. Call when you know which game you want to see. I’ll put your names on a list.”

“Sweet. Maybe we’ll see you at the next stop.”

Jones laughed. “Not if I beat you there.”

The man sauntered off, and Ainslee and Griff headed toward the SUV. Rocky greeted them with a few shrill barks.

“Did you think we left you?” She nuzzled the squirming dog then pushed him over so she could climb in. “I guess we should check out the riddle before we go anywhere. Otherwise we won’t know which way to head.”

Griff started the engine. “Read it while we drive.” He leaned forward and peered through the windshield. “Well, look at that.”

She flipped open the lid of her box then glanced up. “Huh?”

“It’s getting a little crowded around here.” He pointed toward a silver sedan. “I only caught a glimpse of the driver, but he had blond hair. I’m pretty sure it was Morris.”

“Ha. Then we’re in the lead. My guess is Marietta’s still in bed.”

“Let’s hope.” He turned out onto the street then hit the gas. “I’ve had enough of New Orleans. Let’s get the hell out of town.”

“Get off the couch and go West 169 miles. An hour north you may get lucky. The tower holds the answer to the mail Suzie loves.” Ainslee laid the piece of paper in her lap then unfolded the clue from his box. “Yours is the same except it says
the mail Jenny loves.
”

Griff scowled at the heavy traffic leading out of New Orleans. “What couch is Victor talking about?”

Ainslee turned and dug through the pile of miscellaneous crap that had accumulated on the backseat. Facing forward again, she opened the road atlas. “Let’s see what town is 169 miles west of here.”

“We’re on a freeway, not a couch.”

“Maybe he just meant to get moving.”

Griff rolled his eyes. “Victor was obviously more than a little crazy. Who knows what the hell he intended.”

“Lafayette is about 150 miles, I’d guess. A place called Jennings looks like the right distance.” She glanced over and frowned. “Why would he send us there?”

“He wouldn’t. Doesn’t the next part say an hour north?”

“If we get lucky.” She studied the map again. “I don’t even see a major road north from Jennings. Provided there are rural routes, an hour north would be somewhere near Lecompte.”

“That can’t be right. None of his army buddies was from around there.” He smacked the steering wheel with his fist. “We should be going to either Iowa or Wyoming or maybe Victor’s hometown. What’s in the boxes besides the clue?”

“Keys again.” She held one up, brown colored metal with a round head. “I’m almost positive this is to a post office box. And the word
mail
in the riddle is spelled with an
il
instead of an
le
, which would be the correct usage if he meant the
man
Suzie or Jenny loves.”

“Huh? That made absolutely no sense.”

She sighed. “Yes, it did. Anyway, I bet the keys will open post office boxes.”

“Great, but that isn’t going to help if we don’t know what town we’re going to.”

“You’re right.” She settled Rocky more comfortably across her lap. “Okay, let’s go at this from a different direction. Any well-known couches in Wyoming?”

He snorted. “We’re famous for Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons and maybe rodeos and ranches, but not a freaking sofa.”

Ainslee turned to stare at him. “Are you always this pleasant when you’re sleep deprived? If so, no more sex for you.”

A smile curved his lips. “Sorry. I’m just frustrated. Victor irritates the hell out of me, and since he’s dead, I can’t take it out on him.” He let out a long breath. “To answer your question, no famous couches or sofas or loveseats or even recliners in Wyoming.”

“Oh. My. God! That’s it!”

His head snapped around. “What?”

“Davenport. A davenport is an old-fashioned word for a couch. Davenport, Iowa.”

“You’re freaking brilliant!”

“I try.” She flipped pages on the road atlas. “Looks like Des Moines is about 169 miles west of Davenport. An hour north of that is…drumroll.”

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

She grinned. “Cloverdale, my hometown!”

“Now that makes sense. I assume your great-grandpa Frank lived there, too.”

“Yep. Not on our family farm. That comes from my dad’s side of the gene pool. Frank was actually a mechanic before he joined the army. His widow raised their daughter in Cloverdale, and Grandma Nell married a local boy. Then my mom married my dad and moved to the farm. No one leaves Cloverdale. Except me.”

“You’re the odd duck in the group?”

“I like to think of myself as a swan.”

His grin flashed. “Back to the clue. What about the getting lucky part?”

“A four-leaf clover is lucky. That must be Victor’s way of helping guide the non-local contestants to Cloverdale.” She frowned. “I wonder what tower he’s referring to. There aren’t any tall buildings in town.”

“What about those silo things you see on farms?”

“Grain elevators? We have them. That could be it. I guess we’ll figure out the tower and the names once we get there.”

“It’s a long drive to Iowa.” He glanced over. “How far do you think?”

“Hmm.” She directed her attention to the map. “If my math’s correct, about 1,000 miles. That’s a two-day drive. We should be able to reach Missouri by this evening if we don’t make too many stops. Basically we’re heading straight north. Follow the signs for Baton Rouge and then to Little Rock.”

“Let’s hope our competitors don’t know what a davenport is. I’d like to hold our lead.”

“No doubt. In the meantime, we can kick back and enjoy the scenery.” She smiled. “If I can keep my eyes open. Let me know when you need a break from driving.”

“I will.”

Ainslee fell asleep not long afterward. Griff’s gaze returned again and again to the dark lashes fanned against pale cheeks, the short, straight nose and full lips, open slightly to accommodate steady breathing. As the miles rolled away, the night they’d spent together played over in his mind. The woman was a firecracker in bed. Not to mention funny and smart. And independent. He admired the hell out of her.

This had turned into the perfect break between jobs. Something challenging and entertaining to occupy his time, accompanied by the perfect companion for the journey. Both he and Ainslee knew the trip would end eventually. When it did, he’d go to his next salvage job, and she’d take a teaching position somewhere less stressful than New York City. They’d part ways to move on with their real lives. He pressed a hand to his chest at the quick stab of pain. Not that he was in a hurry to go anywhere without Ainslee. Maybe they could stay in touch. See each other now and then. His gaze drifted to the rise and fall of her breasts beneath a scoop-necked top that revealed a hint of cleavage. His shorts tightened unnervingly. Maybe she’d agree to a friends-with-benefits arrangement.

He gave a little nod. That would be best. They’d keep it casual, just as he had with every relationship since the nightmare with Johanna… His mind skittered away as sweat broke out on his forehead. As long as they were both on the same page, everything would work out just great.

Rocky opened his eyes and gave him a long look. One side of his lip lifted in a snarl before the dog shifted positions on Ainslee’s lap and went back to sleep.

Griff grinned. Damned little thing seemed to read his thoughts—and didn’t like them one bit. He was glad Ainslee had the mutt. Rocky wouldn’t exactly provide her with the protection of a Doberman, but he would keep her company. Griff just hoped wherever she chose to teach wouldn’t be somewhere she’d need a watchdog. The thought of her in danger from some little delinquent turned his stomach.

His gaze fell on the bandage peeking out beneath the sleeve of her shirt, and his gut did another flip. Surely the shooting had been an accident, a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The bullet or pellet or whatever the hell had hit her couldn’t have been purposely directed at Ainslee. After all, only the other contestants… He shook his head.
No way. No how.
The idea of the basketball legend taking pot shots at them from the cemetery was ludicrous. Or the stuffy banker. Or the actress in her heels and tight dresses. Freaking ridiculous.

Must have been a kid shooting at a possum.

Ainslee blinked and yawned then slowly turned her head to smile at him. “Sorry. I must have fallen asleep. How long have I been out?”

“Couple of hours.”

“What?” She straightened in her seat, and the dog let out a moan.

If Griff’s head was on her thigh, he’d moan, too. “No worries. You were obviously tired.”

“I was that.” She lifted both arms as she stretched. “I can drive if you want to get some rest.”

“We’ll trade places when we stop for gas. And food. I ate most of the donut holes, but there’re still a few left if you’re hungry.”

One side of her lip curled, much like the dog’s. “We have to start eating healthier. I’m going to get fat.”

His gaze strayed away from the road for a thorough survey. “Yeah, that seems to be a real danger.”

She rolled her eyes. “No more sugar and grease. I want a salad for lunch.”

“Your wish is my command.”

A smile lit her face. “I like the sound of that.”

“Good.” Warmth filled him. He could get used to making this woman smile.

* * * *

Ainslee stuck her feet out toward the campfire and tried not to sigh. The nighttime temperatures in southern Missouri were plenty warm, but having the fire gave the evening a cozy feel. “I’m just passing through town, Mom. I’ll only be in Cloverdale for one night.”

“But it’s been ages since you’ve been home. Christmas. I’d hoped you’d stay for a nice, long visit.”

“Maybe later in the summer after I get settled.”

“There might be an opening at the high school here in town. Old Mr. Edwards finally retired.”

“Mom, I’m not moving back to Iowa.” She glanced over at Griff, who was stowing the cooler in the back of the SUV. “I’m thinking of trying life on the west coast for a change. California.”

“
California!
” Her mother’s tone implied she’d mentioned something nasty. “Nothing but a bunch of radicals and drug addicts out there.”

Ainslee rolled her eyes. “A small town on the coast might be the perfect choice. No more cities for me.”

Her mother let out a gusty breath. “I just want you to be happy, but close to home would be preferable. Nothing good came from all those years in New York. Twenty-nine years old and still single. Why in my day—”

“Uh, about tomorrow,” Ainslee broke in. “I have a friend with me. And a dog.”

“Which friend? Devin? I haven’t seen that girl in way too long. Did she get a pet?”

“No, not Devin. She’s still in Washington, DC working for Congressman Hinsdale. I should call her. Our last conversation was interrupted. Anyway, this friend isn’t someone you know.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and prayed for strength. “His name’s Griff, and the dog is mine.”

“He? Honey, you should have told your father and me you have a new boyfriend. Is it serious? Must be if you’re bringing him home to meet your family. How long have you been dating? Oh, my, I’d better make up the bed in the spare room.”

Ainslee gritted her teeth and waited for her mother to run out of breath. “We just met a few days ago.” Her gaze locked with Griff’s as he returned to the fire and took a seat beside her. “We aren’t dating, exactly. He’s part of the scavenger hunt I mentioned.”

“I don’t understand.” Her mother’s voice rose. “Are you traveling with a stranger?”

“Mom, don’t stress out. He’s a really nice guy, and we’re sort of connected through our relatives. I’ll tell you all about it when we get into town, but right now I need to go.”

“Humph.” Her mother’s teeth clicked, a sure sign of aggravation. “Fine. We’ll see you for dinner tomorrow night. Wait, did you say you have a
dog
?”

“Rocky. He’s adorable. Don’t plan to have dinner too early since I’m not sure how long the drive will take, and we have a few errands to run before we get there. Bye, Mom.”

“I suppose I’ll have to hear about your new dog later, too. Bye, Ainslee. Be careful.”

“I will.” She broke the connection and slumped against the table. “Geez, you’d think I was still a teenager the way she acts. Until I’m married with kids, I’ll be forever sixteen in my mother’s eyes.”

Griff flashed a grin. “Am I going to be grilled about my intentions toward you?”

“Probably. Right now it’s a toss-up as to whether you’re my
boyfriend
” —she pressed her fingers to her temples— “or a serial killer I picked up on the highway.”

“Terrific. Who’ll do the grilling, your mom or your dad?”

“My mom. Dad’s the strong, silent type, which is a good thing since Mom does enough talking for both of them.”

“That’s a relief. I can charm your mom. Older women adore me.”

A smile slipped out. “What about younger women?”

“They adore my youngest brother, Tripp. The girls fall at his feet when he walks by. Sawyer and I both have to work for the attention. It’s irritating as hell since we all kind of look alike.”

She pressed a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. “Do I get to meet your youngest brother if Victor sends us to Wyoming?”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” His brows came down, and his lips flattened. “Anyway, he’s probably in South America or Antarctica or someplace else equally snowy this time of year.”

“Too bad. What about Sawyer?”

“It’s June. He’ll be out on some river in Idaho or California. Eden will be around, though.”

“Great. Anyone who works with horses has to be interesting. You’ll probably meet both my brothers tomorrow since they still live in Cloverdale. I’d be shocked if my mom doesn’t invite the whole family to dinner.”

He eyed her the way he probably looked at rattlesnakes coiled up ready to strike. “Whole family?”

“Well, not aunts and uncles and cousins. My dad has eight siblings, and most of them live in Iowa.”