Bringing Benjy Home (Security Ops) (7 page)

Traffic snarled the freeways, even though it wasn’t rush hour. It took well over an hour to drive to the motel. When they finally got to the parking lot, Jaida’s stomach had tightened with nerves. She saw Trey’s observant gaze go to the sign out front; his face registered no emotion when he took in the flickering neon sign with the burned out
V
. She got out of the car and trailed behind him as he made his way quickly to the office. Reaching the area a few moments behind him, she found him already in a corner, deep in conversation with the state policeman who had been waiting for their arrival.

Jaida gave the employee behind the counter a tentative smile. The young woman, who looked no older than twenty-two or -three, wound a tendril of her frizzy red hair around one forefinger and popped her gum loudly. Then her gaze went back to the men.

Jaida didn’t attempt to join in the dialogue between the policeman and Trey. She approached the desk, forcing the clerk’s gaze back to her. “Could you tell me if the vacated rooms have been cleaned yet?”

The woman bristled visibly. “All our rooms are clean— cleaned every day. The owner would have my butt if that didn’t get done.”

“I’m sure they’re cleaned thoroughly,” Jaida soothed. “But there must be a lot of work around here. How long does it take your crew?”

“Hours,” huffed the young woman. “Usually I help, but I’ve been held up today because he—” she jerked her head at the young officer Trey was talking to “—has been here since the others left. Too much going on for me to leave the office empty. So we might be a bit behind today,” she allowed reluctantly. “On account of me having to answer a bunch of questions and all.”

Jaida had the response she wanted. She gave the woman another smile and, turning, let herself quietly out of the office.

Once outside again, Jaida searched out the neon sign, the one that had figured so prominently in her vision yesterday. Slowly she walked past each of the motel doors. Her progress was halting but steady. Already the hair on the back of her neck was prickling; goose bumps appeared on her arms. Still she walked, past a door to a window, paused, then moved on. The chill skittering along her spine was increasing and owed nothing to the damp breeze. At the third door from the opposite end, she stopped. She didn’t need the proximity of the sign from this particular window to know that this was the room that had housed Benjy last night. Her certainty lay in the waves that vibrated off the empty room to wrap around her. Sensations of confusion and tears shed by a child in a strange place. She closed her eyes, lost in the suffering and bewilderment that Benjy’s brief sojourn had left in its wake.

A voice sounded in her ear. “What are you doing out here?”

Jaida opened her eyes to find Trey standing closer than she would have dared allow him had she been thinking clearly. “This is it,” she said, her words barely loud enough to be heard. She lifted one hand with great effort and pointed toward the motel-room door. “That’s where Benjy was last night.”

Trey stared hard at her. “Give it up, Jaida,” he ordered harshly. “The show is over. The officers searched all the vacant rooms, talked to all the guests who are still here. No one claims to have seen Benjy, not the clerks, not the guests. There’s not a shred of evidence proving he was ever here, and there’s a good reason for that, isn’t there? Because you and I both know he wasn’t.”

She returned his hard stare. “Get a key,” she said quietly.

He exhaled an exasperated sigh. “Look, there’s no need to carry this farce out any longer. You’ve been caught. Surely it’s not the first time for that. You may as well . . . where are you going?”

He was in midsentence when Jaida turned and walked back to the office. Trey stayed where he was, frustrated beyond belief. The woman was tenacious; he’d grant her that. She was determined to play this little melodramatic farce out to the end. He waved as the officer drove the state police cruiser by him and pulled out of the parking lot. The officer had been polite, but it was apparent that he’d considered this assignment today fruitless. He’d treated Trey as one would an overwrought, ever-hopeful relative of a crime victim. It had suited Trey’s purposes to let the man believe that was true.

But it was finished now. He could pack up Jaida and shuttle her off on yet another plane, one that would take her back to Arkansas and away from him. She’d be out of his life for good, and he could forget all about her, forget her liquid drawl, moon-glow hair and the strange reaction he could create just by touching her. He could forget about the woman who’d used his family’s tragedy for her personal gain, so that she could . . . what? What had Jaida hoped to gain by perpetuating this pathetic little hoax? Was she hoping to cash in from her “help” to a desperate family? Or did she just have a sick little side to her that needed to feel important?

He shook his head impatiently as she approached him again. It didn’t matter to him what motivated Jaida West or others like her. His time for her was at an end, and he was more than ready to see the last of her.

She walked to the motel room near him and inserted a key in the lock.

“What are you up to now?” he demanded.

“The woman in the office said we could look around for a few minutes,” she answered, not looking at him. Her palms suddenly slippery, she pushed the door open and stepped over the threshold. The barrage of sensation that bombarded her as she walked farther into the room wasn’t unexpected. She could feel the confusion and hopelessness thick in the air, and in the recesses of her mind a child cried. Benjy. He’d spent the night sobbing intermittently, crying for the comfort of his mother. She walked around the tiny, slightly seedy room, ignoring the chill creeping over her skin, the familiar pounding starting at her temples. Her gaze went to the window, with its view of the neon sign outside, the one that had fascinated the young child. Again her mind replayed Benjy slipping off the bed, toddling toward the window. Again she saw a hand grasp him by the back of his shirt and haul him back up on the bed. Closing her eyes, she focused fiercely on the fragment of mental replay. A man’s arm, she decided, seeing the large bones and the dark hair on the forearm. A thick gold watchband had encircled the wrist.

“Jaida.” Trey had followed her, unnoticed, into the room. “Give it up. There’s no point, and you’re only making the situation worse.”

“He slept over there.” Her voice trembled a bit as she indicated the opposite side of the room, beyond the lone sagging bed. She remained rooted where she was, victim to an intense physical exhaustion. She wrapped her arms around limbs that refused to warm.

Trey moved over the matted shag carpeting that had long ago given up any pretense of identifiable color. He rounded the unmade bed and stopped short. There on the floor was a drawer, pulled from the cheap dresser on the opposite wall. A pillow taken from the bed lined the bottom.

A muscle clenched in Trey’s jaw, and for a moment, just for a moment, his heart leaped foolishly. His gaze swung to Jaida, who stood motionless by the window, not even looking in his direction. “How did you . . .”

Jaida released a sigh and, mobilized by his words, walked toward the door. She didn’t want to wait and hear him finish the sentence. Even someone with his suspicious nature would have to realize that she hadn’t had time to arrange that drawer before he’d followed her in here. She was too weary to provide him with explanations he was incapable of accepting. She needed to get out of this room, out of the swirling dervish of sensations that threatened to choke her with their intensity.

“Wait a minute,” he commanded. “Where are you going?”

“To get something to eat.” The incongruous words floated over her shoulder as she walked steadily away from him.

Trey frowned and then discarded his immediate inclination to detain her. She couldn’t get far, not when he had the car keys. As determined as he was to send her packing, it would be on his terms, when he’d finished with her. She’d been acting oddly all day, but that wasn’t important, either. Right now his mind was grappling with the startling coincidence she’d stumbled on in this room. The room was next door to the one from which the phone call had been made last night to complain of a child’s crying.

His gaze swung back to the drawer and the pillow inside it. More than likely the room’s previous occupants had used it to bed down a pet they were traveling with. It would make a snug pallet for a medium-sized dog.

But it would also be the perfect size for an eighteen-month old boy.

“I’ll have two double cheeseburgers with everything,” Jaida said, snapping her menu shut. “And bring me an order of fries, a Coke and a chocolate shake.”

The waitress scribbled down the order in her indecipherable shorthand. “Someone going to be joining you, hon?” she asked. The tag pinned to her pink uniform proclaimed her name as Elaine.

“Not if I’m lucky,” Jaida answered obliquely. She refused to look out the window of the restaurant, to see if Trey had followed her from the motel across the street. She needed time alone to regroup after the emotional turmoil she’d experienced in the motel room. And it was much too soon for her to face Trey’s contempt and mistrust again. First she needed time to shore up defenses that had crumbled badly in the past few minutes.

“Could I have the shake right away?” she asked the waitress.

The woman tucked her pad and pencil in the pocket of her apron, which was a snug fit around her ample middle. “Sure thing, hon,” she agreed good-naturedly. “If I was a little bitty thing like you, I’d have myself two.” She winked and headed around the counter.

The hammering in Jaida’s temples showed no signs of abating, and she opened her purse and took out her pain medication. Swallowing a tablet, she placed the prescription bottle back in her bag just as the graying waitress returned with her shake.

“Here you go. Hope you enjoy.” Elaine hovered until Jaida sipped from the glass and proclaimed it delicious. Beaming, the waitress said, “Old-fashioned malts and shakes are my specialty. Those young girls that work here,” she snorted and jerked her head in the direction of a teenager who was wiping off the counter. “You just can’t teach them a thing—they don’ want to learn. Whichever way is easiest, that’s the way they want to do things. But you just can’t rush a good shake.”

Jaida smiled at the woman’s loquaciousness. “Do you own this place?”

Elaine’s stomach shook with her laughter. “Heavens no dear, but I guess you can say I spend a lot of time running it. Jake, he’s the owner. Doesn’t show up much these days, except to clean out the cash drawer. As long as he doesn’t bother me, we get along just fine.” The woman’s eyes narrowed in concern as Jaida rubbed her temples. “Headache?” she asked sympathetically.

“I’ve taken something for it. It’ll be gone soon.” Even as she spoke the words, Jaida knew they were overly optimistic. Her limbs still felt heavy with a deep, pervading cold, and her shiver wasn’t in response to the diner’s air-conditioning.

The waitress clucked knowingly and bustled back to the kitchen to check on Jaida’s order. A short time later she was back, bearing plates of steaming food. “There, now. You eat up. Nothing like a hot meal to chase a headache away.” She watched approvingly as Jaida picked up one of the cheeseburgers and bit into it. Then her gaze went to the door, and her face went still.

Jaida didn’t need Elaine’s reaction to know who had just walked into the diner. The tingle at the base of her scalp was enough to tell her that Trey had come looking for her. The waitress scurried back behind the counter, and Trey slid his big body into the seat cross from Jaida.

He nodded toward the assortment of dishes in front of her. “You shouldn’t have ordered for me.”

“I didn’t,” she informed him shortly. She noted the expression of mild surprise that he allowed to show on his dark features as he watched her polish off the first cheeseburger with delicate efficiency. “I suppose I could spare you a few fries if you’re feeling desperate,” she offered grudgingly.

“No,” he said in bemusement, “go ahead. I’ll order something for myself.” He turned his head and beckoned to Elaine, who was looking at him fixedly.

Jaida heaved a sigh. Even the amiable older lady seemed susceptible to the man’s magnetism. He gave her his order and then turned his attention back to Jaida.

“Look,” he said. “About what happened back there . . .”

“I’d rather not discuss it now,” Jaida told him, reaching for her second cheeseburger. “I just got my appetite back as it is.”

“Yours or a linebacker’s?” he inquired. She made a face at him and didn’t answer. He watched with a touch of awe as she made short work of the second cheeseburger and started on the French fries. By the time Elaine slid his sandwich in front of him, Jaida was neatly wiping her mouth.

“Can I get you any dessert, hon?” Elaine asked.

Trey’s eyes widened as Jaida appeared to actually consider the offer. She finally shook her head.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Wise choice,” Trey commented. “I was beginning to think I was going to have to send you home in the plane’s cargo compartment.”

She ignored the dig. Her headache hadn’t lessened appreciably, and even satisfying her returned appetite hadn’t succeeded in driving away the chill in her blood. Stoically, she accepted the fact that the effects from the scene in the motel room were not going to be hastened away. “You won’t be buying me another plant ticket, in the cargo compartment or otherwise.”