right into her new life. But instead she was stuck inside the hotel, waiting for “orders” from Beck and the Texas Rangers, while one of Beck’s deputies guarded the door to make sure no one got in.
The three-room suite was a nice enough place with its soothing Southwest decor. Her and Aubrey’s room was small but tastefully decorated with cool aqua walls and muted coral bedding. Marita’s room was similar, just slightly smaller, and the shared sitting room had a functional, golden-pine desk and a Saltillo tile floor.
It reminded Faith of a gilded cage.
Of course, anything less than getting on with her new life would feel that way.
She forced herself to finish the now cold coffee that room service had delivered an hour earlier. She already had a pounding headache, and without the caffeine, it would only get worse. She had to be able to think clearly today.
What she really needed was a new plan.
Or a serious modification of the present one.
Aubrey was now in Beck’s protective custody and he was responsible for her safety. Right. What was wrong with this picture?
She went back to the desk, sank down onto the chair and glanced at the notes she’d made earlier. It was her list of possible courses of action. Unfortunately, the list was short.
Option one: she could immediately leave LaMesa Springs, and go into hiding. But that would be no life for Aubrey. Besides, she had to work. She couldn’t live off her savings for more than six months at most.
Faith crossed off option one.
Option two: she could arrange for a private bodyguard. Again, that would eat into her savings, but it was a short-term solution that she would definitely consider. Plus, she knew someone in the business, and while things hadn’t worked out personally between them, she hoped he could give her a good deal.
And then there was option three, and it would have to be paired with option two: try to speed up her brother’s and Nolan’s captures. The only problem was that other than making herself an even more obvious target, she wasn’t sure how to do that. Maybe she could make an appeal on the local TV or radio stations? Or maybe she could just step foot inside her house a few times.
She already felt like a target anyway.
Frustrated, she set her coffee cup aside and grabbed a pen, hoping to add to the meager list. She sat, pen poised but unmoving over the paper, and she waited for inspiration to strike. It didn’t.
The bedroom door opened, and Marita came out. Behind her toddled Aubrey, dressed in a pink eyelet lace dress, white leggings and black baby saddle oxfords. Just the sight of her instantly lightened Faith’s mood.
“’i,” Aubrey greeted her. It was her latest attempt at “hi” and she added a wave to it.
“Hi, yourself.” Faith scooped her up in her arms and kissed her on the cheek.
“She ate every bite of her oatmeal,” Marita reported. “And getting to bed so late doesn’t seem to have bothered her.” Marita patted her hand over a big yawn. “Wish I could say the same for my old bones.”
“Yes. I’m sorry about that.”
“Not your fault.” Marita went to the window and looked out. “You warned me that some folks in this town wouldn’t open their arms to you.” She paused. “Guess Sheriff Tanner is one of those folks.”
It wasn’t a question, but Faith knew the woman wanted and deserved answers. After all, Marita had essentially been part of her family since Faith had hired her fifteen months ago as Aubrey’s nanny. Faith had gotten Marita through an employment agency, but their short history together didn’t diminish her feelings and respect for Marita.
“I left town ten years ago because of a scandal,” Faith said, hoping she could get this out without emotion straining her voice. “Beck saw me coming out of a motel with his brother, Pete. His married brother. Word quickly got around, and his brother’s wife attempted suicide because she was so distraught. Beck blames me for that.”
Marita turned from the window, folded her arms over her chest and stared at Faith. “You were with the sheriff’s married brother?”
Aubrey started to fuss when she spotted the stuffed armadillo on the settee, and Faith eased her to the floor so she could go after it.
“I was with him at the hotel.” But Faith shook her head. She wasn’t explaining this to Beck, who would challenge her every word. Marita would believe her. “But I didn’t have sex with him. It didn’t help that I couldn’t tell the whole truth.” She lowered her voice so that Aubrey wouldn’t hear, even though she was much too young to understand. “It also didn’t help that there were used condoms in the motel room. And when Beck found us, Pete was groping at me.”
Marita made a sound of displeasure. “Beck was an idiot not to see what was really going on. You’re not the sort to go after a married man.” She glanced at the papers on the desk and frowned again. “Is that what I think it is?” Marita pointed to the document header, Last Will and Testament.
“I wrote it this morning.” She noted the shocked look on Marita’s face. “No, I’m not planning to die anytime soon. I just need to let someone know that he won’t inherit anything in the event of my demise.”
Faith didn’t have time to explain that further because her cell phone rang. Since she was expecting several important calls, she answered it right away.
“Zack Henley,” the caller identified himself. “I’m the driver who took you from the airport to LaMesa Springs last night. You left a message with my boss saying to call you, that it was important.”
“It is. I need to know if you told anyone that you’d taken me to my house.”
“Told anyone?” he repeated. He sounded not only surprised but cautious.
Faith rephrased it. “Is it possible that someone in LaMesa Springs learned that you had driven me to my house?”
He stayed quiet a moment. “I might have mentioned it to the guy at the convenience store.”
That grabbed her attention. “Which guy and which convenience store?”
“Doolittle’s, I think is the name of it.”
The same store where her brother had been sighted. “And who did you tell about me?”
“I didn’t tell, exactly. I mean, I didn’t go in the place to blab about you, but the guy asked me what a cab driver was doing in LaMesa Springs, and I told him I’d dropped someone off on County Line Road. He asked who, and I told him. I knew your name because you paid with your credit card, and you didn’t say anything about keeping it a secret.”
No. She hadn’t, but she also hadn’t expected to be threatened with those tossed rocks. Or with the possibility that her brother had been the one to do the threatening. “Describe the person you spoke to.”
“What’s this all about?” he asked.
“Just describe him please.” Faith used her courtroom voice, hoping it would save time.
“I
