Cowboy Country (78 page)

Ava turned so she could look out the back window. “There’s a black car, a big one, changing lanes and coming fast.”

Without answering, her unwilling rescuer crossed two lanes of traffic, ignoring honking horns and rude gestures from other drivers. At the signal light, he twisted his wheel hard. The big truck whipped a U-turn, tires screeching. Ava grabbed the door and held on as the truck spun around into the opposite direction, merging into a line of cars. The cowboy tromped on the gas pedal and the big diesel engine roared in response.

The black car raced by the other direction, caught in the flow of fast-moving traffic.

“We lost him,” Ava said. “But he’ll probably turn around.”

“Where’s a cop when you need one?” The cowboy scanned the vehicles around, but they didn’t see a police car among them. “Do you know where there’s a police station? Not that it’ll probably do you any good if you did.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I have no idea.”

“You live here, don’t you?” He sounded sour.

“Yes, but when I need help I ask a security guard.” She snapped her mouth shut.

“I don’t see one of those guys around right now, so we best find a cop.” He nodded toward the dash. “Wish I had one of those satellite gizmos right about now.”

Ava continued to look over her shoulder. “Me too.”

“You see him?”

“Not yet. Maybe we lost him.” She hoped. Prayed.

“This is like a bad movie,” the cowboy said. “Go out for a few drinks with friends, and what do you know…a pretty girl hops in your truck…then you’re on the run…hellfire.”

“I’m sorry I got you involved.” Ava wanted to crawl under the seat and stay there. This guy didn’t deserve any of this. “Let’s find a police station and you can go about your business.”

“It won’t be that simple,” he said. “He shot at you, hit my truck. That makes me a witness. Besides, I can’t just throw you out at the front door and leave you there.”

“I’m sorry,” Ava repeated.

“Yeah, me too. My backers aren’t going to like this one bit.”

“You’re an athlete?” She glanced at him again. A cowboy hat. Jeans. Boots. The arm of his right sleeve covered with sponsor patches. A big belt buckle shining under the street lights. It dawned on her he’d probably been in town with the National Finals Rodeo. “A rodeo cowboy?”

“I ride saddle broncs.”

“Wow.” She was suitably impressed. Rodeo cowboys came into the Blue Valentine every December during the two weeks of the National Finals Rodeo. Some of the girls talked about how sexy some of the bull riders were, but Ava preferred the physiques of the taller, heavier bronc riders, though she’d never dated one.

“You see that guy?” The cowboy’s terse question brought her back to the present.

A quick glance over her shoulder showed nothing. “No. Look, I’m close to my house. Why don’t you take me there? I’ll call the police from home.”

“Better idea. Dial 911 and have them meet us there.”

She’d been so rattled, the thought of dialing 911 hadn’t even occurred to her. “Super plan.”

His sardonic grin flashed in the dark. “I have them from time to time.”

In spite of her fear, she smiled tremulously. “Good to know.”

She made the call and an operator assured them he’d send someone to Ava’s house right away. After she hung up she gave the cowboy directions to her apartment. He turned off the Strip and made a few turns into a quiet neighborhood. She pointed to a yellow duplex at the end of the block. “I live there.”

As they grew close, she spotted a police car with flashing lights. Her racing pulse slowed a fraction. Then jumped back to racing form when she noticed the cruiser nearly blocking the shiny black car parked in front of her house. She grabbed the cowboy’s arm. “The killer’s here. At my doorway. Oh, God.”

As they passed, unable to turn around on the narrow one-way street, Ava spotted Dario talking to the cop as if he belonged there. Her front door stood wide open. From her vantage point, she could see her trashed living room. “The hitman has been inside my house and tore it up.”

The cowboy pressed the gas pedal and the truck sped up a little. “I don’t think we ought to stop just now.”

As they rolled by, Ava looked directly into the face of the guy she’d briefly dated. Dear lord in heaven. Dario Abruzzo was a killer? She’d broken up with him because he became too possessive too fast, but she’d never guessed him to be a cold-blooded killer. From his evil stare she had no doubt he’d off her if he caught her. “Get me out of here.”

“You don’t have to ask twice.” The cowboy took the first right turn and headed back for the strip. “You know that guy?”

“I dated him a few times,” she said, still unable to believe it. “What do you think he was telling that cop?” Ava bit her bottom lip. “Who apparently didn’t think to arrest him? I guess my trashed living room didn’t tip him off he was talking to a criminal.”

“Unless that cop and your ex are somehow connected.”

Ava hadn’t considered that. “Possibly.”

The cowboy turned his truck onto Las Vegas Boulevard again and drove toward the opposite side of town from the Blue Valentine. “What about the dead guy? Know him?”

She shook her head. “I’ve never seen him before in my life.” She buried her face in her hands. “What am I going to do?”

“Spend the night with me, for starters.” At her horrified look, he added, “Lay low. Catch a few winks.”

“Oh.” Her face heated. Why had she automatically jumped to the conclusion he meant something more? Because of her career, most men propositioned her within an hour of meeting? “I can’t put you in any more danger than I already have. You need to drop me off somewhere and go on about your business.”

“That isn’t happening.” He glanced her way. “My mama didn’t raise me to dump a lady in distress alongside a road and leave her there to fend for herself.”

“You have a good mother,” Ava said.

“Yes, ma’am, I do. And she’d be mighty happy to have you stay for a few days until you get all this sorted out.”

Ava didn’t hesitate. “No. I’m not dragging your family into my mess. It’s bad enough you’re caught up in it.”

“Okay then.” He blew out an exasperated breath. “You have a friend or relative you could call?”

Her laugh was brittle. “No close friends. My mother threw me out when I turned eighteen. Said no daughter of hers was going to be a stripper.”

His eyes, when he glanced her way, lit up with merriment. “You’re a stripper?”

“I am certainly not.” She glared at him. “I’m a professional dancer. A showgirl.”

He whistled. “One of those fancy gals who wears a dead chicken on her head? And not much else?”

“It’s not a chicken of any sort—they’re ostrich feathers. And yes, I wear headdresses.” She continued to glower at his profile. “I don’t ever dance nude.”

“I remember you now.” He flipped on his blinker and took the exit ramp near the Thomas and Mack rodeo arena. “My buddies and I noticed you tonight in the chorus line. You were the tall blonde on the end. We thought you were a knockout.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“I mean you’re still hot.” He glanced at her plain brown sweater and black leggings. “I just didn’t recognize you without the turkey on your head, and wearing clothes—”

“I was wearing a costume on stage,” she repeated, “and it’s not a dead bird.”

He took a right turn into a motel parking lot. “We can hole up for the rest of the night and figure out what to do in the morning.”

“Okay.” She reached for the door handle. “Thanks.”

“First thing first.” He grabbed her arm and a strange heat sizzled up it. “I don’t sleep with strangers, so maybe we ought to introduce ourselves. I’m Levi Callahan.”

“Ava Demassi.” She hesitated a moment. She didn’t care to have a jealous wife after her in addition to her current troubles. “Are you single?”

His grin was lopsided. “Not hitched and planning on staying that way. You?”

“Also single.” She held out her bare left hand and wiggled her fingers. “And also not looking for a wedding ring.”

“Nice to meet you, Ava.” He took her hand in his large, callused one and held it. “Wish it was under better circumstances.”

He let go of her hand and opened his door. Before she could let herself out, he came around and opened her door. “This way.”

Placing an arm around her shoulders, he leaned hard on her. When she shot him a startled look, he whispered, “Go with it. Pretend I’m drunk and you’re helping me home. If anyone’s looking they’ll think I’m just another cowboy who’s partied too hard.”

“Okay. But Dario knows me. We won’t fool him.” Doing as he asked wasn’t as easy as she imagined. To her surprise, he stood several inches taller than her own five-ten. For some reason, she’d thought him shorter. Heat from his body seeped into hers and she chalked up her awareness to coming out of a bad shock.

Fumbling around in his coat pocket, he found a key and handed it to her. She took it, taking care not to brush his fingers with hers. They stepped across the threshold and into the messiest motel room she’d ever seen in her life. The girls at the Blue Valentine’s dressing rooms weren’t this bad.

Junk lay everywhere. Newspapers, clothes, boots. A pair of black shorts peeking out from under the edge of the bed. Even some kind of saddle. One she assumed he rode his bucking horses with. Pop cans and pizza boxes lay strewn over every surface. The place smelled worse than a dorm room. He gave her a sheepish look. “Damn it anyway. I told Drew to clean up before he headed out tonight. My roommate’s not much of a housekeeper.”

“You have a roommate?” She tripped and he caught her, pulling her close.

“Not anymore. He’s spending the night with some girl he met. You all right?”

“Uh-huh.” She stayed in his embrace a moment longer than she needed to. “Fine.”

He released her and shoved some of the junk off the closest bed. “Sit here.”

“Okay.” She perched on the end of the bed. “I should go before you get dragged any deeper into this mess.”

“I already told you I’m hanging around until it all gets sorted out.”

She gave a wail of despair. “That could be forever. I can’t trust the police. I can’t go back to the Blue Valentine. And home isn’t an option. I don’t have anywhere to go.”

“Good thing I’m headed to Denver in the morning, isn’t it? You can ride along.”

CHAPTER TWO

“What?” Ava gaped at him. “I can’t go to Colorado. I have a home here. A job—”

“Do you?” Levi went to the closet and grabbed a suitcase. He began stuffing clothes in it. “From where I’m standing, you don’t have either of those things.”

Her stomach churned. He was right. She couldn’t go to work and she couldn’t go home. If she didn’t show up for her place on the chorus line tomorrow night she could kiss her job goodbye. Penny wouldn’t accept any excuse. You had to be on your deathbed to miss a performance, and even then she raised hell. “What would I do with you?”

He grinned at her. “I have a few ideas—”

She glared at him. “Be serious.”

“As I already mentioned, you could spend a few days at my family’s ranch up in Wyoming.” He zipped the suitcase and began filling a duffle bag. “Or, you could pose as my girlfriend for a few days while I ride in the All Stars Show.”

“I’m not going to impose on your family.” His other option didn’t exactly thrill her either. “I don’t know what to do at a rodeo. I’ve only been to a couple, and that was years ago.”

“Leave the rodeoin’ to me. All you’d have to do is be my girlfriend. Sit in the stands, cheer when I ride.” He stepped close and put his index finger under her chin. “I always spur to the finish.”

She didn’t think he meant horses, and her cheeks heated. “I bet.”

“Don’t lay money against me.” He removed his finger, dragged his riding equipment to the door and added it to the pile by the door. “Or you just might lose it.”

She wrapped her arms around her middle. “I don’t know what to do.”

“One option is to go to the cops, look ’em in the eye and tell ’em what you saw.” He fished a sock out from under the dresser. “But they don’t always get the job done.”

“If that cop at my house is in on this thing with the hitman”—Ava bit her thumbnail—“I could end up at the bottom of Lake Mead before I finished talking.”

Levi moved to the window and pulled back the curtain. “You better make up your mind right quick, because we’re about to get company.”

 “What?” She jumped to her feet. “Do you mean Dario found us?”

“Yep.” He let the curtain fall back in place. “He’s circling the parking lot right now. We need to get out of here.”

“There’s no back door. We’re on the second floor.” She paced between the door and the bed. “We’re trapped like fish in a barrel.”

“Like hell.” Levi gathered his suitcase, the duffle bag and his rodeo gear. “I’m not hiding out like some little girl. I’m going out there like a man, jumping in my truck and driving to Denver.”

“No.” Ava grabbed his sleeve. “I saw Dario shoot somebody in the head. He means business. I can’t let him kill you, too.”

Levi held up his cell phone. “I have a plan.”

“What?”

“Watch and see.” Several times he dialed and spoke into the phone. “Can you help me out? Ten minutes? Great. See you then.”

“You’re involving your friends in this?” Her stomach bubbled with fear.

“You have a better idea?”

“Not offhand.” Maybe she could leave through the bathroom window. She stood and went to check. The window was tiny, too small to squeeze through.

She glanced in the mirror and almost toppled over with fright. Her blonde hair had been done in a fancy up-do for her performance; now it hung sideways in a tangled knot. Her heavy stage makeup had run, leaving dark circles around her eyes and her dark lipstick smeared. A sad clown looked better.

If she had to die, at least she’d do it looking respectable. She scrubbed her face clean in the sink, then, unpinning her hair, she found her brush in her bag and combed out her tangled curls.