Page 5

Four

“YOU WANT TO RUN KELLY while I run Tate?” Greyson asked, treasuring the alone time with Riley now that the office was empty save the two of them. He loved when they partnered together, working late into the night, running down people who needed finding or needed help. They had it down to an art form.

“Let’s go with our usual areas,” she said.

He slid his laptop to the left side of his desk. “Why don’t you join me in here? It’ll be easier to share information, and I’ve got plenty of room.” He prayed she said yes. Just sitting beside her brought him joy, and he needed it after the last month. After the anniversaries of ... He took a solid, slow exhale. The anniversaries of his losses. The thought of both brought a recurring pain swelling in, dipping his mood, and he hated it. He hated his emotions for not listening to his head. And Riley ... His chest squeezed. He’d nearly lost her. If she hadn’t shot Pete... He stiffened, cutting off the thought of her not being in his life—even if it wasn’t in the way he longed for.

“Sounds good,” she said, shifting his thoughts back to her. She was the light in his darkness. Even if it could never be more.

“I’ll go grab my stuff.” She headed down the back hall for her office.

“Need any help carrying things?” he asked.

“Sure. That’d be great. Thanks.”

“Of course.” He fell in step beside her.

She turned, moving to her dorm-size fridge. Kneeling down, she grabbed a large Monster drink and a Coke. Straightening, she snagged a bag of pretzels and handful of butterscotch candies from the bowl on top.

“Not the butterscotch...” he teased, standing in the doorway, his sleeves rolled up on his sinewy arms. That subtle yet charming smile that tickled her senses crossed his lips.

“It’s the best,” she managed to say, juggling the items in her arms to pop one in her mouth. She inclined her head toward her laptop. “Do you mind grabbing it?”

“No problem.” He pushed off the doorframe.

Her phone buzzed. Once again juggling the items in her arms as they strode back to his desk, she managed to slide her phone from her back jean pocket. “It’s Deck.”

“And?” He hoped Kelly was home safe and sound.

Riley read the text and released a rushed exhale. “She’s not there, so they’re on the way to her work.”

Moments later, they were situated side-by-side at his desk. Now if he could only concentrate on the case.

****

Deck pulled up to a tavern not far from the base of the Pajarito Ski resort in Los Alamos after Kelly’s apartment was a bust. Why she worked so far from Jeopardy Falls was curious, but it was close to her boyfriend’s place, so perhaps that was the reason. Nothing at Kelly’s apartment stood out other than her eclectic collection of books—varying from poker and blackjack to outdoor adventure and survival skills. So the lady was into card games, outdoor adventures, solar panels, and composting. It was a combination he hadn’t seen before.

He shifted his truck into Park and studied his surroundings—occupational hazard.

Several couples walked through the parking lot. Evergreens dotted the landscape, powdered snow bowing their limbs.

“Evermore Lodge,” Christian said beside him. “This is it.”

Deck shifted his gaze to the log-cabin-style tavern with Bavarian scrollwork running across the lintel over the thick brown door with oversized bronze handles. “Let’s do this.” He climbed from the car, and Christian followed suit.

Entering, Deck wiped the soles of his winter boots on the mat.

“Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” ironically played from the jukebox in the corner. “Ages since I’ve seen one of those,” he noted.

“Ditto.”

“All right. Riley said Kelly had mentioned her coworker Becky several times, so we should look for her first.”

“Got it.” Christian nodded.

The hostess greeted them. “Table for two?”

“Sure,” Deck said. He could eat, and it would give them more time in the place. More coworkers to chat with. “Is Kelly working today?”

The hostess grabbed two menus and two bundles of silverware wrapped in napkins. “Nope. She’s on vacation for a couple weeks.” She swiped a strand of hair from her eyes. “Wish I could afford a two-week vacay.” She crossed off their table with a black X on the seating chart. “You can follow me.” Leading the way into the dining area, she stopped at the first bench. “This work?”

“Actually, could we be closer to the bar? There’s a hockey game I’d like to watch.” Deck smiled.

“Sure thing.” She smiled back. “You a Golden Knights fan?”

Not on your life . “I’m rooting for Caps.” Anyone but Vegas.

“You don’t hear that around here a lot, Vegas being the local favorite,” she said, leading them to another table. She glanced over her shoulder, running her gaze up and down him.

Deck slid onto the bench she indicated, choosing the side facing the bar. “What can I say?” He shrugged. “I’m different.”

“I can see that,” she said as Christian took the bench seat opposite him. She handed them their silverware bundles, holding his a bit longer than necessary. She seemed nice enough but not his type. Though he wasn’t sure what was. Not true. He knew exactly his type, and she was overseas.

The hostess handed them their menus, then stepped back with a smile. “Cara will be right with you.”

“Thank you...” He leaned forward. “Tamela.” He smiled, and pink covered her cheeks.

“Let me know if I can get you anything at all.” She backed away, her smile still dimpling her cheeks.

Christian shook his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“What?” Deck shrugged.

“You just wink or give a smile, and women fall at your feet.”

“Not true.” Harper hadn’t. Probably part of why he liked her so much. She was different—strong, capable, determined. A woman unto her own. Albeit a very independent one who wasn’t looking for any sort of relationship—not that he really did those. Date, sure. But relationship? That was a level of commitment he had no desire to make, even for someone as wonderful as Harper Grace.

“It is, and you know it.” Christian looked over his shoulder, his head high above the bench privacy wall. “We’ve got two bartenders. Kelly bartends, right?”

“Yep, and so does Becky, according to Ri.”

“They’re both females. Let’s hope one is Becky,” Christian said.

Deck slid out of the bench. “Order me a root beer and a bacon cheeseburger. I’ll be back.”

“Got it. I’d say good luck, but we both know you don’t need it.”

Reaching the bar, he pulled out the only open seat available.

“Scooooore Vegaaaas!” the TV announcer drew out in an enthused call.

The crowd cheered.

Deck rubbed the back of his neck. He loathed everything to do with their childhood home. If living in casino hotels could be called home.

“What can I get you?”

He looked up to find a brunette standing in front of him.

“I’ll take a Shirley Temple.”

She chuckled. “Really?”

“Yep.” He shifted forward on the barstool, resting his elbows on the bar. “I love those little umbrellas.”

“We put those in other drinks too.” She chuckled.

“Nah. I’ll stick with Shirley, but thanks.”

“You got it. One Shirley Temple with an umbrella.” Amusement lit her brown eyes. “Any color preference?”

“Surprise me.” He winked.

Pink flushed her cheeks.

“Oh, hey,” he said as she moved for the silver counter laden with bottles.

“Yeah?” She paused, spinning back around to face him.

“Is Becky working?”

She rested her hand on her hip. “Harder than I should be.”

“Gotcha. I’m Deckard.” He extended his hand.

“Becky.” She shook it, wariness in her eyes.

“I was wondering if I could talk to you for a sec?”

She gestured to the full bar. “We’re kinda busy with the game crowd.”

“You have a break coming up?”

“Look, I’m flattered you want to chat. You’re quite charming and all, but I’ve got a boyfriend.”

“Oh, it’s nothing like that.” He pulled out his PI license. “I’m looking for Kelly. She’s gone missing, and I heard you two are friends.”

Becky narrowed her eyes. “Missing? As in really missing?”

“I’m afraid so. We’re talking to everyone in her life just in case they know where she is or even where she might be.”

“I don’t know that I can help, but I’m happy to try. Give me five, and I’ll take my break.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

With fresh mugs of steaming coffee in front of them, thanks to their waitress, and his half-drunk Shirley Temple, they waited.

Five minutes on the dot later, Becky approached their table, sipping a soda.

“Hey.” Deck stood and let her in the bench, then squeezed in by his hulking tree of a brother so she had space. “Thanks for taking the time to talk with us. This is my brother Christian, also a PI.”

They exchanged nods.

She fidgeted with her straw. “I can’t believe she’s missing.” She shook her head with disbelief. “How can I help?”

“When was the last time you saw Kelly?” he asked.

“A week ago. Right before she went on vacation.”

“Did she tell you where she was going?” Christian asked.

She shrugged. “Someplace with Tate.”

“Speaking of Tate,” he continued, “do you know him?”

“Not really.” She bobbed her straw in her glass. “He only came by once or twice.”

“Seem like a nice guy?” Christian shifted beside him, almost elbowing him. The dude was too broad to be sharing a bench seat with.

“Not so nice.” Becky twirled her straw.

Deck arched his brow. “Not so nice how?”

She looked over her shoulder, then fixed her gaze back on him with an exhale. “The first time Tate came in, he seemed nice enough. The second time he was in here, he was a jerk. Bossing Kelly all around.”

“Oh?” Christian leaned forward again, resting his forearms on the table.

“Yeah. And she doesn’t take junk from anyone, which made it so weird she let him get away with it.” Becky took a sip of soda.

Deck took a shot. “Was he ever rough with her?”

“Not in front of us.” She fiddled with her straw, swirling the ice and little remaining soda in her cup. “But we heard rumors.”

Rumors often gave the best clues. “What kind of rumors?”

“Bethany, who used to work here, knew Tate’s last girlfriend, and word is there was a domestic disturbance between the two.”

“He get arrested?” Surely Riley would have found that when she ran him through public records, but she hadn’t said anything yet. Maybe she hadn’t gotten that far.

“Not that I heard. I don’t think any charges were filed, or I got that impression when I asked Kelly about it.”

“How’d Kelly respond?” Christian ran his finger around the rim of his mug.

“She tried to breeze past it, but she seemed tense.”

“Any chance he’d hurt her?” Christian probed again, his brows furrowed.

Becky nibbled her bottom lip. “I really don’t know for sure.”

“But do you think he did?” he nudged.

“Yeah,” she said after moment’s pause, “but that’s just my theory.”

Christian shifted his attention to Deck. “So maybe she’s running from an abusive boyfriend?”

They both turned to Becky.

“Could be, I suppose.” Her jaw tightened. “I sure hope not.”

Deck rubbed the back of his neck. That didn’t explain the key. What would she need to hide from her boyfriend? He shifted, the pleather cushion crinkling beneath him. “Is there anyone else close with Kelly we should talk to?”

“Kelly kept things close to the vest, for the most part. But I remember her mentioning a lady in Jeopardy Falls she shared coffee with weekly. Someone with an R name. Randy ... Riley...”

“Riley’s our sister.” Christian shifted, the pleather squeaking beneath him.

“Gotcha.” She folded a piece of gum in her mouth and glanced at her watch. “Not to rush you guys. I want to help all I can, but I’ve only got a couple minutes left, and we’re still slammed.”

Deck nodded. “We’ll hurry.”

“Thanks.” She blew a bubble of grape Bubblicious.

“Anyone else you can think of?” he asked.

“She heads out on weekend adventures with a couple friends. I think it’s Amy and Guy or Gus—something like that. Oh, and her poker club friends.”

Deck cocked his head. “Her poker club?”

“Yeah, she takes lessons on Wednesday evenings, and then plays on the nights she’s not working.”

Interesting. That would explain the handful of poker and blackjack books they’d seen in her apartment—all highlighted with sticky notes popping out the page edges.

“You know the name of the club?” Christian pulled a small notebook and pen from his shirt pocket and poised himself to jot down the information.

“Players’ Den,” she said with a lift of her chin. “It’s not far from here. The guy in charge, his name is Tony. I went with Kelly one time. He’s a nice guy.”

“Thanks,” Deck said.

“Glad I could be of some help.” She slid out of the booth and stood.

“You’ve been a big help.”

“I’m glad. Please keep me posted. I hope he hasn’t done anything to her.”