Reckless Hours: a Romantic Suspense novel (Heroes of Providence Book 3) (4 page)

She smiled. “Thanks for the warning.”

The hot June air hit her in the face as she walked out the door, but Tammie refused to feel defeated. Twenty miles to the nearest hotel? Not a big deal, but if traffic was anything like the clerk said, she’d be spending her whole day in the car, instead of talking to people who might actually be able to lead her to this Dutch person who’d known her mother when she was born. And with so many people from out of town flooding the streets, she could talk all day and not find anyone who could help her. She didn’t have a clue where to start.

With the key chain still in her hand, she punched the unlock button and watched the lights flash on her rental car. She didn’t notice the Jeep that had pulled into the parking space next to her—or the man who’d jumped out—until he was standing by her side.

She’d known he was tall. But until he was standing next to her, Tammie hadn’t realized just how much he towered over her.

Jumping back against her car, she stared into the eyes
of the crazy man from down the road. Except, his face wasn’t nearly as menacing as it had been earlier. His eyes seemed almost warm and kind. He kept just enough distance to allow her to flee into her car. Tammie didn’t know why she hadn’t done that already.

She glanced at the motel window. The clerk still had his nose stuck in the paper again, but she was sure that if she screamed, he’d hear her. But she didn’t scream. Making her voice steady, she said, “Go away.”

“I need to talk with you.”

“Good for you. I don’t need to talk with you.”

Tammie gripped the handle behind her and pulled the car door open, but the man pushed it shut, then took a step back and leaned against it.
I should have fled when I’d had the chance.

“Look…I know I frightened you back there, and I’m really sorry,” the man said. “It seems I left my manners back in Providence. I’m just…I really need to talk with you about my brother. I’ve been in this nowhere town for a month, and I’ve gotten absolutely nothing.”
This was what the clerk was warning her about.

“I’m sorry to hear that but I have my own problems.” He moved just enough for her to reach the door handle. She tried to grab it, but then he moved, shaking his head and running his hand over his face.

“I deserve that. I know I do. You don’t owe me anything. But, please, just a few minutes.”

“I’m busy.”

The man rolled his eyes. “I know, I know, you’re looking for a hotel. I’m sure the clerk told you the same
thing
he told me this morning as I was tossed out of my room.”

“You have a way with people, don’t you?”

“The room was already booked last year. I woke up to a knock on my door and when I opened it, I saw the manager and some old guy, who hadn’t bathed in about a week, standing there with a suitcase, waiting to get in,” he insisted impatiently.

“I hope you were wearing underwear.”

His gaze narrowed for a moment and then he laughed. The smile transformed his face completely and made him much less menacing.

Her comment was abrupt and she’d immediately questioned it the moment it came out of her mouth. But it had worked at defusing this man.

The man propped his hands on his hips. “I suppose the clerk also told you there aren’t any other vacant rooms within miles, right?”

“He did.”

“If you insist on finding a room outside of town, instead of staying in your own house, I’ll be happy to help you find a place to stay since I have to do that as well. But before we do that, just answer a few questions about Cash.”

Frustration wound its way through her. “Wait. My own house? What are you talking about? I’ve never been to this town before and I’ve never met anyone named Cash. But I have been on the road for a while and I’m exhausted. So while I appreciate your offer to help me find a room, I think I’ll just do that myself.”

“Fine. I get it. You’re still freaked out and I don’t really blame you. But let’s at least talk for a bit.” He pointed across the street to a small diner that doubled as a convenience store. “I’ll buy you a cup of coffee or hot chocolate or iced tea. All I’m asking for is ten minutes of your time, and then I’ll be out of your hair. I promise.”

“I can’t help you. I have no idea who this Cash is or what you’re talking about.” She yanked at the car door again, but the man pressed his back against it, keeping her from opening it completely.

“You say you don’t know Cash. Then how do you explain this?”

He pulled a photo out of his back pocket and thrust it in front of her, and her blood went cold. The color snapshot had been taken during the winter months. Two people were standing knee-deep in snow, a man wearing a dark green parka, a woman in a cream fur-lined one. She didn’t recognize the man in the picture, only that he bore a resemblance to this man who seemed determined to harass her.

But the face of the woman made her swallow hard. The eyes, the complexion, the slight indent on her cheek. It was hers. It was like looking in a mirror.

“Ten minutes,” the man pleaded softly. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Tammie’s stomach growled. After her red-eye flight from the West Coast and the hassle of getting a rental car and finding her way out to Eastmeadow, her body had already burned off the energy from the coffee and donut she’d picked up before renting her car.

Her plan this morning had been to find a hotel in town and sleep the day away to recover from jet lag. She hadn’t counted on a flight delay, a long line at the rental counter and difficulty in getting a room. If she was going to drive even another half hour to find a place to stay, she was going to need to refuel.

I have to be mighty tired to be considering a cup of coffee with a crazy man.

She glanced across the street. There were cars in the parking lot of the diner. That meant people. Safety was already an issue, it seemed, and this guy hadn’t proven his intentions were honorable. And there was a good chance that, whatever move she made, he was just going to follow her anyway.

She shut the car door. She wouldn’t let him know that seeing the picture had rattled her even more than that episode on the road. He said he had questions, and now she had a string of her own.

“I’m walking across to the diner to get a cup of coffee for myself, and if you happen to walk with me, then I’ll listen. But that’s all. If you start badgering me again, or make any threats, I’m calling the police.”

His lips lifted into a smile. “Then I’m your man. I’ve spent the last six months on the force in Providence.”

“Just six months?”

“No, actually, I spent two years on the police force right out of college. I spent twelve years in the United States Marine Corps, until a little less than a year ago. It felt right to go back to the force after that.”

Why do I get the feeling I should run ?
“A Marine, huh?”

He smirked. “I assure you, you’re safe with me.”

“So you say.”

Tammie started across the parking lot toward the road in silence.

So, the crazy man was really a cop from the streets of
Providence. And a Marine, to boot.
Go figure.
Well, there was safety in numbers, and if the crazy guy tried anything, she’d be in a diner full of people. Her chances were certainly better there than out here on the street.

Tamm
ie glanced at him a few times out of the corner of her eye. He had to be more than ten years older than her twenty-seven years. Now that she had a little bit of distance, she could see that he was much taller than her, probably over six foot two. His demeanor had changed considerably. The angry man she’d seen in the middle of the road now seemed to have the manners of a gentleman. He put a protective hand out when, in her fatigue, she tried to step too quickly into the road and didn’t see the oncoming traffic, and then he opened the door to the diner for her. Her father had always said that you could tell the character of a man by how he treated a woman. A man who cared about the little things, would also work on the big things.

“You’re dead on your feet, lady,” he said.

He didn’t have to tell her that. She felt like roadkill, and probably looked like it, too.

“Why don’t you have a seat while we wait for the coffee?”

The man pulled out a chair from a table that still had wet streaks on it from being washed. He motioned to the waitress, asking for his usual, plus an extra coffee. The waitress gave him a quick smile, as if he were a regular.

While she waited, Tammie rubbed her burning eyes. Fatigue
was
winning over her.

“You look like you haven’t slept in days. Why are you so exhausted?” the man asked, lacing his fingers together.

“I don’t sleep very well on planes, and I pulled an all-nighter from the West Coast.”

He lifted an eyebrow. ‘West? What part?”

“Oregon.”

He nodded as the waitress set their coffees on the table
with a small stainless steel pitcher of cream and a toasted bagel that smelled wonderful. Her stomach grumbled again. “I don’t even know your name,” she said.

“Dylan Montgomery.”

He slathered the bagel with cream cheese and placed half of it in front of her on a napkin.

Glancing down at the bagel, she said, “You’re trying to butter me up with food, Dylan.”

“Is it working?”

She smirked. “Could be. I have a soft spot for bagels and cream cheese. The question is why you’re doing it.”

His face showed genuine remorse. “I scared you back there. That was inexcusable and I’m sorry. I know better than to approach a woman like a Neanderthal, especially in anger. It was wrong of me.”

“Why did you?”

He took a bite of his food and swallowed, seemingly weighing his words. “I’m a little tired myself. Not that that’s an excuse for my behavior, just an explanation. You’re the last person I know who had any contact with my brother, Serena, and I’ve been trying to see—”

“Serena?” She frowned. “Who’s Serena?”

With the coffee cup at his lips, he said, “Serena Davco. That
is
your name, isn’t it?”

“My name is Tammie Gardner.”

Dylan paused a second, mid-bite, and then swallowed. ‘Tammie Gardner.”

He didn’t seem convinced, and she didn’t care.

“From Oregon?”

“I grew up in Winchester.”

He motioned toward the uneaten bagel in front of her. “You should eat.”

As she played with the crisp corner of the toasted bagel, Dylan wiped his mouth with a napkin and sat back in his seat. “Do you ever feel like you’re in some weird science fiction movie where reality shifts every five minutes?” Tammie shook her head and lifted a torn piece of the bagel, then popped it in her mouth.

Dylan shrugged. “This town will do that to you.”

“Meaning?”

“You say your name is not Serena.”

“It isn’t.”

“Then how do you explain that picture I showed you?” He pulled the snapshot out of his pocket again and slapped it down on the table. The shock Tammie had felt the first time she saw the picture hadn’t lessened. The faces might not be a perfect match, but they were very close.

She picked up the photo and stared. “I can’t, which is why I agreed to talk to you.”

“The man in the picture is my brother, Cash.”

“I’ve never seen him before.”

Dylan sighed in disbelief. “Okay. Play it that way.”

“What do you want from me?”

“How about the truth? Cash came here to find Serena Davco—to ‘save’ her.” Dylan waved his hands around as if he thought his brother was a little nuts even to have the idea. Kind of like Tammie had thought Dylan was back in the street. “And here you are, with a face that matches this picture. Except you say your name is not Serena Davco.”

She drew in a deep breath, her appetite suddenly gone. Her parents had lived here at one time, and yet they’d never mentioned Eastmeadow to her. There was a woman walking around here, somewhere, with her face. Or something very close to it. She closed her eyes, not wanting to think about the possibility that her parents had known this Serena Davco.

“It’s not exactly the same. Our faces, I mean. Maybe you can’t see it, but our faces are different.”

Dylan leaned forward, his voice low. “Look, Cash said you were in trouble. I’m a police officer. If something has happened and you’re in fear for your life, I can help you get protection from the state police. But I can’t if you’re not straight with me. And I can’t help my brother unless I know the truth about what’s going on.”

Wasn’t that what Tammie had come here for? The truth? And yet, with each passing moment, the truth seemed to become stranger and stranger.

She glanced down at the picture and stared at it for a moment before lifting her gaze to Dylan. “I came here looking for the truth, too.”

His lips tilted into a slight grin that she found striking. He was a handsome man, with strong angular features and a rugged look that was alluring.

Dylan nodded. “Good. Progress.”