picked up his briefcase and his suitcase and walked out of the hotel room, closing the door quietly behind him.
She stared in disbelief, then ran to the door and yanked it open, darting out into the wide, plushly carpeted hallway after him. All she saw, however, was the elevator doors sliding closed.
Dismay engulfed her. What had she done? Messed things up, but good, that’s what. She went back into the room and snatched up her purse and the folder with the room key in it, then ran back out to the elevator.
She caught up with him only because he was waiting for a cab. Probably to take him back to the airport where he’d fly home to Texas and tell her brothers just what they could do with their case.
“Brett.” She caught his arm. “I’m sorry.”
He just watched her, his expression impassive.
“I am.” She felt the muscles in his arm flex and she yanked back her hand, twisting it with her other around the strap of her purse. “Please, don’t go. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I acted…badly. Whatever rules you set, I’ll follow.”
His lips twisted. “That dog won’t run, Katy. I know you too well.” He stepped forward, reaching for the door of the cab that had just pulled to a halt at the curb.
“My brothers will never forgive me if I blow this!”
“Yeah, they will,” he countered blandly. “They’ve always spoiled you rotten.”
“I’m not spoiled.”
His eyebrow rose.
“Okay, so they did. A little,” she said hurriedly. “But you can’t just leave me here, like this.”
“Why not? Like you said, you’re a grown woman. You’re free to come and go wherever, whenever you please. Find your mother yourself.” Then he climbed in the cab and a second later, drove away.
She stood there, staring stupidly after him.
“Mrs. Larson?”
She frowned, turning toward the doorman. “What?”
“Are you all right, ma’am?”
“I…yes.” She managed a smile. Just fine and dandy, except I’m not really Mrs. Larson, and I’ve managed to alienate the one man my brothers had complete faith in.
She couldn’t continue standing on the curb without attracting even more attention from the doorman, so she went back inside the hotel. But heading to the elevator and going up to that empty room with the king-size bed was more than she could bear and she sank instead into one of the oversize chairs scattered around the gleaming lobby.
What was it about Brett Larson that reduced her from a competent, fairly even-tempered woman, into an absolute raving lunatic?
She rested her forehead on her fingertips. She’d have to call and warn her brothers what had happened. Brett would certainly let them know that he’d backed out of the case once he made it back to Grandview.
If there was a flight back to Texas soon, that meant she had only a few hours before the news hit and the shock waves spread this far east. Unless Brett used that handy, dandy cell phone he carried and lessened the time even more.
Her stomach churned just thinking about it.
She’d desperately wanted—needed—to do something active. Something productive in helping to find her mother, even if it meant having to deal with Brett.
So what was she doing sitting there, totally inactive, feeling sorry for herself?
There was nothing preventing her from going to the airport after Brett. If she was careful, if she kept her big mouth shut, she could salvage this.
She straightened and strode out to the curb just as a cab pulled up. Perfect. A good sign.
The back door opened and a man climbed out.
A tall man. Broad-shouldered. With hair as dark as teakwood and eyes as dark as chocolate.
Her mouth parted. She was so glad to see him, she nearly threw herself into his arms. She actually took several steps toward him, curtailing the impulse just in time. She stared at him, a tangle of emotions nearly choking her. “I’m glad you came back.”
He looked none too happy about it. He handed over his luggage to the doorman with a quiet word, then took Kate’s arm in his. “We’re going to get some things straight.” He drew her, unresistingly, across the street toward the park. They walked a long while, as if he didn’t trust himself to speak just yet. And she, she didn’t know what to say. Eventually he found an empty bench and nudged her toward it.
“I’ve never walked away from a case yet, Kate.” His shadowed jaw was tight. “And I’m not gonna walk on this one. But I swear, if we have to go through this kind of crap every day, I’ll stuff a gag in your mouth and cuff you to the bedrail. Understand?”
She flushed. He was still so coldly angry that she could well imagine him carrying out the threat. “I’m sorry. I’ve said I’m sorry! You just…I, we…”
“Make each other crazy,” he muttered.
She chewed the inside of her lip. “I didn’t expect to have to share a room with you, Brett. It…threw me. I’m not proud of it.”
Brett frowned. Kate had always been generous with her temper in the past, and equally generous with her apologies. “I think you were right,” he said. “That we need to forget what we know about each other and concentrate on the task at hand.”
“Well, obviously I was so successful at that. Thirty-five minutes, I believe you said.”
“Thirty-three,” he corrected.
“An even more impressive failure.” She smoothed her hand over the stone bench beside her. “Brett? Do you really think she doesn’t want to be found?”
The hard knot of anger inside him eased some at her diffident question. “Only Madelyn knows that, Katy.”
He heard her sigh, then she stood, managing to look impossibly young and fragile for someone he knew had already hit the thirty-mark. He shifted his gaze, watching a pair of joggers passing by instead.
“Is it necessary to hide my name?”
“I’ve seen some weird things in my business. Someone overhears someone talking and the next thing you know, half the city is privy to a secret that only two people were supposed to know. From what I’ve learned, the art world is a small one. Word travels. I don’t want to take any unnecessary risks.”
“So you decided I should go by your name instead of my own.”
“You’re the one who insisted on coming here. If it weren’t for that, we wouldn’t need a cover in the first place. But since we do, it’ll be a simple one. Newlyweds, looking for a new LeClaire piece to add to our collection.”
“Newlyweds,” she repeated
