Randall On The Run. Judy Christenberry
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“No, she’s not. May I take a message?”
“Well, is this the right place? I mean, this is the number I got from Information. Do you know Jessica?”
“Yes, I do. Who’s calling?”
“This is Monica Miller. I’m a friend of Jessica’s from L.A.”
“I’m her aunt. I can get a message to her if you want.”
“Okay. This may be nothing, but a man called this morning and—and asked for her address in Dallas.” The woman paused. “I know she’s from Wyoming. I said she didn’t live in Dallas, she lives in Wyoming.”
“Who was the caller?”
“I don’t know. I was so taken by surprise I didn’t think to ask. And he wanted to know where in Wyoming, so I told him all I knew was Rawhide. I hope I didn’t cause her any problems. Can you tell her that?”
“Of course I can. And we appreciate your letting us know.”
After she’d hung up the phone, B.J. dialed the sheriff’s office. “Is Mike in yet?”
“Yes, ma’am. May I tell him who’s calling?”
“Yes, it’s his mother-in-law.”
“Just a minute please.”
“B.J., what’s up?” Mike asked when he picked up the phone.
“I’m not sure, but I don’t have a good feeling.” She told Mike about the call. “I thought I should let you know.”
“Yeah, I’m glad you did. It confirms what I suspected.”
“Does it mean that Jessica is in danger?”
“Possibly. But we’re going to keep an eye on her. And we’ll spread the word to keep her location secret. I’m going to make some calls, too.”
“We’re counting on you, Mike.”
“I know, B.J. Jess is family.”
THE BANGING ON THE DOOR woke Jessica. She crawled out of the bed and went to unlock the front door after checking to be sure it was her sister.
She was delighted to see that Tori’s arms were filled with sacks from the café. “I hope you bought lots of good stuff. I’m starved.”
“I did. I even brought some food for you know who. How’s he doing?”
“Still sleeping. I changed the drip once.”
“Well, maybe we can wake him up after you eat. Oh, and Mike may come up. He said he needed to talk to you.”
“Why? Did he read the evidence?”
“I don’t know, Jess. He just wanted to know when you’d be awake.”
A knock on the door interrupted them. Jessica hurried over and opened the door.
“Did you look before you opened the door?” Mike asked sternly.
“No, but Tori— I thought no one knew where we were?”
“Always check. There’ve been some developments. Do we still not know Steve’s last name?”
“He said he had a driver’s license. I haven’t looked, but it should be in his pants pocket,” she said, waving toward a pile on the end of the sofa. Mike moved to it.
“Go ahead and eat. I know you must be hungry.”
She and Tori sat down at the small table. Tori took out the enchiladas and a tossed salad.
“It’s enchilada day!” Jessica exclaimed. “I didn’t realize that!”
“Some things never change, Jess. I also brought some dessert for you.”
“Oh, good.”
Mike brought over Steve’s driver’s license. “This gives his name as Stephen Carter. I’m going to call a friend who used to be DEA. Maybe he’ll know the name.”
“But it could be an undercover identity,” Jessica said, worried.
“I know, but I still need to check. By the way, a friend of yours from Hollywood called. Someone called asking for your home address in Dallas.”
Jessica froze. Then she said, “That had to have come from the cop who pulled me over before I left L.A. I told him I was heading home to Dallas, hoping to throw anyone off track.”
“Yeah, I remember. You told me that story this morning. I have to admit I thought you were exaggerating but…” He let the thought go unsaid. “Your friend told them it was Wyoming, not Texas. They asked where in Wyoming and she told them Rawhide.”
Jessica felt an instant tightness in her chest. “So they’ll be here?”
“Maybe. But we’re going to be watching out for you. Just don’t open the door unless you know who it is.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
“Has he awakened yet?”
“No, Tori and I are going to wake him in a few minutes and try to get him to eat.”
“All right. Tell him I haven’t reported his wound yet, and I’ve got his evidence in the safe downstairs. Seems he was right.”
“Thank you, Mike. I will.”
After Mike had gone and Jessica had eaten, she and Tori went into the bedroom to awaken Steve.
His groggy response wasn’t encouraging, but Jessica sat on the side of the bed and got him to take some sips of a chocolate malt. “Maybe this will help his fever go down,” she said.
“I have no idea,” Tori replied. “It’s funny that our mother is a nurse and midwife and neither of us is any good at this medical stuff. Though I have gotten better since I’ve had kids.”
“I hope I have kids,” Jessica said in a pensive state, almost as if she didn’t realize she was talking aloud.
“Of course you’ll have kids. I’m counting on it,” Tori said with a laugh. “How else will I have nieces or nephews?”
“I don’t know. I was in California for three years, and I never met anyone I was interested in.”
“Not even on your last day?” Tori asked.
Jessica stared at her sister. “What are you talking about? Oh, you mean Steve?” She stared at the brown-haired man who had fallen asleep again. She avoided her sister’s eyes. “I don’t know. Besides, it wouldn’t do me any good. I don’t live in L.A. anymore.”
Tori