know about the grounds and security. How you handle the event. Stuff like that.”
“Okay.” Terri rubbed her hands together nervously.
“I’ll go see if they’ve arrived, but first, Ms. Beaumont needs a favor. A few things from her room. Could you let me in since she can’t get up here with her bad ankle?”
She rolled her eyes. “Always ready to help a damsel in distress, huh? Especially if she’s beautiful?”
“Do you really think I’m that shallow?” Rory held his hands in the air, feigning innocence.
“No. But you have other issues.” Terri reached under the desk and pulled out an electronic key card. Then she called another clerk to cover the front. “Come on. I’ll walk you up,” she said to Rory.
Together, they headed up the wooden staircase to the second floor.
“What issues?” he asked. “I don’t have any issues.”
Terri pursed her lips together. “Uh…you haven’t been in a serious relationship in years.”
“I don’t have time to date. That doesn’t mean I have issues.”
“Whatever you say.” Terri was shaking her head. Rory bit back a reply. Why did he care what she thought anyway?
They passed several numbered doors continuing down a somber, narrow hallway with a few sharp turns. Terri stopped abruptly a few feet from an open door. Golden streams of sunlight spilled across the corridor. Speckles of dust hung lifeless in the downward rays. The quiet air seemed eerie, far removed from the cheerful whir of activity outside the inn.
Terri frowned. “I can’t imagine the staff leaving her door wide-open like that.”
Rory moved Terri against the wall. “Stay here.”
He reached under his arm where a holster would have normally held his automatic Glock. It wasn’t there, of course. He shook his head and entered.
The room was small—just enough space for the mission-style bed, a small upholstered chair and a three-drawer dresser. The bed’s white quilt had been thrown to the floor and the rest of the linens peeled from the mattress. A few articles of clothing lay willy-nilly across the floor and dresser. He found no cell phone, no purse, no suitcase. He moved over the hardwood floors and opened the door to the bath. There were no toiletries, not even a toothbrush or bottle of shampoo.
“Clear. Come in, Terri. Are you sure this is Ms. Beaumont’s room?” He examined a rumpled T-shirt that had been tossed recklessly into the corner.
“Oh, my!” Terri’s mouth dropped open as she entered the chaotic room. “Yes. It’s definitely her room. I brought her up myself.”
Rory looked under the bed. Clean and empty. He opened the dresser drawers. Empty. “There’s nothing in here but some dirty clothes.”
“She’s been robbed? Let me call my staff and see if anyone knows what’s happened.”
“No. Wait here. In fact, call someone to stay with you. I’m going to find the detectives and send them up.”
She nodded.
A new wave of anxiety washed over Rory. He didn’t need to be a cop to guess that the burgled room and the attack were connected. Maybe the men after Tabitha didn’t want her, but something she had? Maybe they wanted both?
At that, Rory flew down the stairs. He hoped leaving Tabitha alone hadn’t been a huge mistake.
THREE
“One man was tall, thin…blondish. The other heavyset. No taller than me,” Tabitha said to the policemen.
Detective Jon Greenwood sat across from her, rubbing his gray beard. His partner, Hines, stood nearby taking copious notes. They had joined her just minutes after Rory’s departure, exhausting her with their detailed questions. If the day had ended right then, it wouldn’t have been soon enough.
“And how tall is that?” Hines asked.
“I’m five-seven,” she said.
The taller detective looked up from his little white pad as if to check her measurements. “Five-seven. Good. Keep going.” He returned to his note-taking.
Tabitha sighed. “The shorter man was bald. Or maybe his head was shaved, and I think he had a scar on his face.” She paused and looked at the deep red marks on her wrists where he’d held her. Her mind flooded with old images—images of another man, one she’d known most of her life. He, too, had held her arms and made them raw. The memory unsettled her. “I’m sorry—I can’t remember any more.”
Tabitha banked her hands in her lap to control the trembling. She closed her eyes tight as if to squeeze out the unwelcome thoughts, but her focus was gone. The only idea she could hold on to was getting home.
Detective Hines stuck his pen behind his ear and took the seat next to her. “Try to relax, Ms. Beaumont. The details will come back to you.” He laid the pad aside and removed his jacket. “You’re shivering. Here. Take this.”
“Thank you.” She placed the tan sport coat across her chest and tucked her arms underneath.
“You mentioned the men wanted something from you,” Hines said. “Any idea what?”
“I don’t—” She shook her head. “I don’t think they said exactly.”
“But they named your brother?” Greenwood asked.
“I thought so. But my mind was on Max anyway since he’s been coaching me for the race.”
“And your brother’s a dentist?”
She nodded. “Yes. In Richmond.”
“We’ll need his number and address.”
“Sure. He’ll get a kick out it if you call him.” She rattled off the numbers while Hines recorded them in his notebook.
“Hope I didn’t miss much.” Rory appeared at the table. Greenwood and Hines gave him hearty handshakes.
“We miss your pop,” Greenwood relayed. “The new chief is good, but he’s no James Farrell.” Hines nodded in agreement.
Tabitha’s heart sank as she watched Rory’s jaw tighten. His dad had been chief of police. No wonder everyone fussed over his absence.
Stepping around the detectives, he pushed toward her.
She returned Hines’s coat and checked Rory’s arms for her clothing. But his hands were empty. “You couldn’t get into my room, could you?”
“No. I got in.” Rory turned his head so that the detectives could hear. “I went up with Terri Patton, the manager. When we got there, the door was already open and most of your things were—I’m sorry, Tabitha—they were missing.”
Tabitha’s sick stomach and throbbing
