“I’m not at liberty to say.”
Josh grabbed a fistful of Wickham’s shirt and hauled him up on his toes. The detective was at least three inches shorter and twenty pounds lighter, not much of a challenge. “I asked you a question.”
“He’ll fire me. I need the work. This was supposed to be an easy job.”
Josh let him go, grabbed his wrist, and bent it backward until Wickham crouched to avoid the pain. “How bad do you need the use of your right arm?”
The detective made a hissing sound between his teeth. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. His name’s Damon Bridger. Got the hots for your girlfriend, I guess.”
Josh eased his hold. “How’d he know we were here?”
“Some nurse at the hospital gave him your names, said you were visiting one of the patients. Bridger hired me to follow you, take pictures, figure out where you were staying. He asked me to find out as much about you as I could.”
“Did you?”
“I dug around. You’re kind of a celebrity in Texas, so yeah, it was easy to find out what I needed to know. I talked to Bridger this morning, emailed him the photos I took. I told him you were a special ops soldier. Marine sniper. A war hero.”
Josh swore foully.
Behind his horn-rimmed glasses, Wickham’s eyes darted around as if he were hoping someone might come to his rescue. No one did.
“Keep talking,” Josh said, bending the wrist a little for emphasis.
Wickham moistened his dry lips. “Not much else to say. Bridger wanted more photos.” He glanced down at the camera. “Looks like that isn’t going to happen now.”
“You tell him where we were staying?”
“I just found out when you pulled in.”
“So not yet.”
“No.”
Josh let him go. He glanced at Tory. Wickham might not have told Bridger the name of their hotel, but he’d told the guy enough to find her in Texas. When she looked up at him, he read the resignation in her face.
“You aren’t going to run,” he said. “This is ending. Now.”
“Josh . . .”
He turned back to the PI. “Get out of here, Wickham. Keep your mouth shut or I’ll shut it for you. Got it?”
The detective blanched. “Yeah, I got it. What about my camera?”
Josh leaned down and picked it up. He pulled out the memory card and handed the camera to Wickham. “I don’t want to see you back here again.”
The investigator rubbed his wrist. “Don’t worry, I won’t be back.”
* * *
Josh walked Tory up to the room. As soon as the door closed, he pulled out his cell phone and brought up his contacts list.
“Who are you calling?”
“A friend. Guy named Hamilton Brown. I’ve got something I need to do, and I don’t want to leave you here alone. Not with Bridger trying to track you.”
“Josh, we need to talk about this. Now that Damon knows about us, he knows where to find me. I need to get back to Texas, get Ivy, and leave.”
On the other end of the line, the phone was ringing. “You aren’t running this time, Tory. You’re staying in Texas. We’re going to end this.”
