“Will do.”
The men shook hands, and Cain left the office. On his way back to the ranch, he drove through an Arby’s on Iron Springs Road and grabbed a roast-beef sandwich, then at the last minute, made a turn onto Gail Gardner Way, which led to Highway 89, the road up to Jerome.
It was Monday. Odds of the bikers showing up again were minimal. Except that he’d called the jail in Camp Verde that morning, and, as expected, Ryder Vance had made bail. The police believed he’d left the area. Cain wasn’t so sure.
Jenny Spencer, with her sweet curves, pretty face, and golden-brown curls, was a temptation to any man—Cain included. But the guy who might want to punish her was the son of a bitch she had helped send to jail.
* * *
Jenny spent Sunday afternoon and Monday in the small house in Cottonwood that she and Dylan had been raised in: three tiny bedrooms and one small bath, an older track house with a single-car garage, one of a dozen that all looked the same.
Dylan had no interest in the house or living in Cottonwood, so after her divorce, Jenny had moved back in. She had managed to furnish the place, but done little in the way of decorating and felt no attachment to it.
Lately, she had been thinking of the money she could save if she rented the house furnished and moved into one of the suites in the hotel. She would lose the nightly rental fee, but the bigger rooms were harder to fill, and the mortgage payment on the Cottonwood house, plus the utilities and upkeep, weren’t cheap. The money she could earn from the house would give her some wiggle room, and she spent most of her time in Jerome anyway.
She would lose the privacy the little house afforded, but once she got the construction loan on the new wing paid off and the business started earning enough profit, she could move back in.
Plus, she reminded herself, she now had a second job, which meant extra money, but also more time in Jerome.
Before leaving on Sunday, she had made a decision. Jenny told Troy and Heather Donahue, the girl behind the desk in the lobby, not to rent room 11, a small suite that overlooked Main Street.
Then she put an ad in the digital version of theVerde Independent, left the saloon in the hands of Barb McCauley, the other bartender, and headed down to Cottonwood. By that afternoon, she had a tenant.
Now that the decision had been made and the ball had started rolling, Jenny began packing the personal items in the house that she was taking with her, her clothes and toiletries, a set of china that had been special to her mother. By Monday, everything was boxed up and ready to go. She was committed to making the Copper Star a success. She would do whatever it took to make that happen.
Jenny refused to think of pigs like Ryder Vance and what had almost occurred.
And she firmly refused to think about ghosts.
CHAPTER TEN
CAIN SEARCHED FORJENNY IN THE BAR AND THE HOTEL, BUT THEREwas no sign of her. He finally managed to track her down through her friend, Summer Hayes, who was working behind the counter at the Butterfly Boutique.
Summer had been a little too trusting in giving out Jenny’s address, but in this case he was grateful.
Cain made the eight-mile journey to Cottonwood in his pickup. Bags of grain he’d picked up in Prescott to take back to the ranch were still stacked in the truck bed. Cain pulled up in front of Jenny’s small house. An older white Subaru Outback sat in the driveway, the cargo-bay door open, several boxes stacked inside.
Jenny’s front door stood open, which wasn’t good with Ryder Vance on the loose; it looked as if she were loading stuff from the house into the back of her vehicle. Cain was halfway up the sidewalk when Jenny walked out the front door, a big cardboard box in her arms.
“Let me have that.” Cain took it before she could argue and headed for the Subaru.
“What are you doing here?” Jenny asked, propping her hands on her hips as he loaded the box in with the others.
“I had an appointment this morning in Prescott. Would you believe, on the way back to the ranch, I took a wrong turn and wound up here?”
“No, I wouldn’t believe it.” But her mouth tipped up, and it made Cain smile.
“It’s partly true. I did have an appointment in Prescott. When I finished, I started back to the ranch, but halfway there, I began thinking about Ryder and turned on the road up to Jerome instead.”
“I told you I’d call if any of the Cobras showed up.”
“I know. No idea why I made the turn, but then when I got to the Copper Star, you weren’t there, and Troy said you only worked half a day on Sundays and had taken Monday off. I knew you lived in Cottonwood, and that’s only about ten miles from the county jail, so here I am.”
“How did you get my address?”
“I have my sources.” He smiled to distract her. If Summer wanted to tell her, that was Summer’s business. “Looks like you’re packing up? What’s going on?”
“I’m renting the house and moving into the hotel. I can save money, and things always go smoother when I’m there. Plus I’ll be working for you at the Grandview, so I’ll be in town even more.”
