The man took a swig of his coffee.
Eugene lifted the pot in Boone’s direction and Boone nodded. He didn’t need more coffee, but he wanted an excuse to sit at the counter a little longer and find out what this stranger was up to.
“How long before these pansy-ass cops let us through?” the man asked.
Boone decided to play along. “God knows. My truck could make it right now, no sweat, but you know these Smokies. Treat us all like a bunch of old women.”
Eugene’s eyebrows lifted, and Boone winked at him when the other guy wasn’t looking. Eugene grinned and turned to put the coffeepot back on the burner.
“Ain’t that the truth,” the man muttered. “And then I couldn’t rouse anybody at the motel office. Knocked so hard I about broke the door down. Those people must sleep like the dead.”
Boone wondered why he’d try to beat down the door of a motel office that had a No Vacancy sign in the window. His sense of uneasiness grew.
Eugene turned to the man. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have any rooms left.”
“Oh, so you’re the one in charge?” The man looked at Eugene with new interest.
“My wife and I run both the motel and the café. All I can offer you is something to eat and drink, and a booth to stretch out in if you like.”
“Actually, none of the above.” The guy leaned forward. “I want to know if a woman and a little kid checked in after the barricades went up. She’s blond, and he’s about so high.” He held his hand about three feet off the floor.
The pieces clicked into place for Boone. Shelby, arguing with the patrolman. Shelby, desperate for a room. A room to hide in. And Josh’s innocent little voice as he announced, “My daddy gots a gun.”
Boone glanced at Eugene and thought he saw the older man stiffen. He might have guessed what was going on, too. He could have noticed, like Boone had, that Josh didn’t call Shelby Mommy. Kidnapping a kid from his legal guardian was serious stuff, if that’s what Shelby had done. But if this guy was on the up-and-up, he would have asked the patrolman at the barricades to help him find Shelby and Josh.
Holding his breath, Boone waited for Eugene’s answer. Even if Eugene refused to give the guy any information, the way he refused could tip the guy off that Shelby was here.
Eugene adjusted his glasses and paused. “Don’t believe I’ve seen anybody matching that description,” he said, smooth as butter.
Boone wanted to leap across the counter and kiss Eugene on both cheeks.
“I know the woman you’re talking about,” Norma said, coming out of the back room.
Boone’s stomach tightened. If only Norma had stayed asleep.
“She came through about noon,” Norma continued.
Now Boone had two people he wanted to hug. Not only was Norma covering for Shelby, she was misdirecting this guy.
“Yeah?” The man sat up straighter. “What did she look like?”
“Blond, pretty. The little boy was blond, too. They stopped in to get some food, but they took it to go because they wanted to get over the pass before the snow started.”
The guy’s fist hit the counter. “Damn it to hell.” Then he sighed. “At least I guessed right on which road she’d take.”
Norma gazed at him, her expression bland. “She must be important to you.”
“Oh, she’s important, all right,” he replied with a sneer. “She took my kid.”
“Goodness!” Norma sounded concerned, but her gaze had no warmth in it. “Have you notified the authorities?”
“Hell, the authorities couldn’t find their ass with their own two hands. This is one slick chick.”
Boone didn’t think so. Shelby wasn’t enough of a criminal to think of hiding her identity or Josh’s. Fear was driving her, not cunning. She was running as fast as she could go and improvising a plan along the way. But he didn’t think she was a match for this man.
Boone stood and stretched. Then he faked a yawn. “Well, folks, now that I’ve had my bedtime snack, I believe I’ll go to my room and turn in.”
Eugene covered his look of surprise quickly. “Might as well. They won’t be opening that road until daybreak, maybe later.”
The man looked at Boone. “You’ve been letting a bed go to waste? Hell, if you don’t want it, I’ll take it.”
“Sorry.” Boone clapped his Stetson on his head and pulled on his jacket. “I got here first.” He gestured toward the booth where he’d left the pillow and blanket. “But the Sloans put out a blanket and a pillow in case anybody stumbled in during the night. I’m sure you’re welcome to that.”
The man eyed the setup and turned back to his coffee cup. “We’ll see if I get that desperate,” he said sourly.
Boone waved at Eugene and Norma and headed out the café door. Once outside he turned up his collar and held onto his hat as he ducked his head and trudged forward against the bitter wind. Snow sifted down inside his jacket and his bare hand grew numb. Once he warned Shelby about the man in the café, he wondered what the heck he was going to do with himself and whether he had enough gas to run the truck’s heater all night.
SHELBY LAY in the double bed next to Josh listening to his steady breathing with a touch of envy. All he needed was a darkened room, a soft bed and his blue “blankie” clutched against his cheek.
How she’d love to escape into the world of childhood, if only for a little while, and feel safe again, safe enough to sleep. Her urge to head for Yellowstone had probably come from that same longing. She remembered staying in a little cabin with her mother and father and Patricia, all of the beds in one big room, like settlers on the prairie. They’d never been so cozy before or since.
There was nothing cozy about this room. The heater had a noisy fan, but it didn’t block out the whistling of the wind through a crevice between the door and the frame or the rattling of a loose windowpane. After checking the lock at least twenty times, Shelby had dozed off, only to be awakened when she’d heard someone pounding on a door not far away.
Adrenaline had poured through her, but she hadn’t wanted to wake Josh by leaping out of bed. By the time she’d eased over to the window, drawn back the curtain and peered out, the motel courtyard had been empty.
Now she worried about who had been pounding on a door in the middle of the night. She’d probably been foolish to take this well-traveled highway north toward Yellowstone. Early in Patricia’s marriage to Mason, soon after Josh was born, Shelby had gone over to their house for dinner. She distinctly remembered reminiscing with Patricia about that Yellowstone trip. They’d talked about the fun stops along the way and how much the family vacation had meant to them.
If Mason remembered, he would know exactly what road to take to find her. She was terrible at this cloak-and-dagger stuff, and she really should give up on Yellowstone. Except it wasn’t only
