He stared back, his expression giving away nothing. “You chose to trust me before. Has something changed?”
“Then, it was either you or the cops. Now that I’m free of the sports bar, why shouldn’t I take off on my own?” She stood and crossed her arms. “For all I know, you’re planning to give me up to Duncan.”
“If I give you up to anyone, it’ll be the police.”
Her laugh came out low and bitter. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”
He held her gaze. “Look, I agree something’s fucked up about this whole scenario. Until we figure it out, I’m not inclined to hand you over to your bossorthe cops.” Leaning in, his gorgeous blue eyes earnest as hell, he said, “I’m also not inclined to let you navigate this on your own. I can protect you.”
“And if you decide I’m guilty?”
“I’m a patriot, Valerie,” he said. No blink, no flinch, no apology. No further explanation necessary. If she had committed treason, he’d drop her on the feds’ doorstop and never look back.
Oddly enough, it was his candor that made her decision.
“Then I guess I’d better figure out how to prove I’m innocent.”
Twenty minutes later, Scott entered room 11 of the Waves Motel, which offered free color TVandFM radio—what a deal—unlimited adult movies, and three hours of rent for under thirty bucks. Exactly the kind of place the police would expect them to go for, and just as craptastic as one would imagine.
A faded pink tropical-print bedspread clashed with turquoise carpet riddled with bare patches and bleach spots. The room smelled like disinfectant and mold in equal measure.
Three light taps on the hotel room door caused him to abort his reluctant check of the bathroom, but the black stains around the edge of the tub had already convinced him a shower wasn’t in his best interest anyway. Maybe a combat wipe-down if the washcloths weren’t disgusting.
He checked through the viewer and opened the door to Valerie, stepping back so she could enter. “I wasn’t sure you’d show.”
“You have my money.” She swept inside, the faint floral scent of her shampoo hitting him straight in the gut.
The more time he spent with her, the more he believed she was innocent. Which made him…what? He’d basically stalked her for weeks. Not illegal—PIs did it all the time—but he still felt lower than a slug. His one justification had been her betrayal of the U.S. Without that, Scott had nothing. The more he learned, the more he believed his real purpose had been to make her appear guilty.
He swallowed past the bitter taste in his mouth and shut the door, fastening the rickety security chain.
Valerie made a beeline for the bathroom. A couple minutes later, she emerged, shaking her head. “This place is pretty gross, but the towels smell like bleach, so that’s something.”
Small favors.
She stood next to the queen-sized bed, holding her elbows, one hip cocked to the side to support the weight of her flowered bag. “I don’t suppose this place has WiFi.”
“Not free. I’m guessing that’s not usually a priority for pay-by-the-hour clients.”
Her gaze strayed to the bed, and she shuddered.
“We’d need a credit card to activate it. That’s a risk we can’t take.”
The flowered bag landed on the wobbly faux-wood nightstand with a lightthud. “Not a problem,” she said. “I have a couple of Visa gift cards in my wallet for just such an occasion.” She started digging.
Hot damn. He studied her with renewed appreciation.
But maybe that meant she’d been planning this for months. He shook his head and turned to the large television perched precariously on a beat-up dresser missing its top drawer.
“Let’s hope this thing plays more than porn,” he muttered, pressing the power button. The screen sprang to life, showing a naked, muscular black man splayed on a couch, getting sucked off by an equally naked blonde. Her enormous tits jiggled back and forth with her enthusiastic efforts, and a second man behind her was—
Scott stabbed the channel button on the remote, rapidly scanning past the adult movies lineup. Thank God the TV was muted. Not that it kept his dick from taking notice.Fucking perfect.As if being in close quarters with Valerie wasn’t difficult enough. Especially now that he was starting to believe she might be the real victim.
Finally, he landed on a local evening news show giving their bottom-of-the-hour recap and turned up the sound. After a lead-in about some kind of scandal with the city council, the Barbie-like brunette got to the story Scott wanted.
“Police are investigating a murder at Good Old Days Bar and Grill on Harbor Drive tonight after a man was found dead in the parking lot. Rick Montoya has the details.”
Valerie’s footfalls approached from behind him, and Scott stepped aside to let her see the screen.
