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Tempted By the Tourist

Page 33

by Reba Bale

I looked over my shoulder to see Blair do some kind of martial arts move on the cop who was holding her arm. “Let us go, assholes. This is all a big mistake.”

She landed a hard kick on the side of the cop’s knee, making him fall to the ground with a grunt of pain. She rushed towards me, seemingly coming to rescue me, but suddenly two more cops burst into the room, quickly subduing her.

Refusing my request to put on pants, two of the cops perp walked me through the hotel barefoot and half naked while the other officers stayed back with Blair. She called my name as I walked out, and I caught her gaze over my shoulder before I was shoved out into the hallway. Her expression was anguished.

I’d had a feeling that this trip would end in disaster. All along I’d figured that Blair’s parents were going to cause trouble. But I couldn’t figure out how they’d found us. We’d been so careful.

I should have left her at the Starbucks in Issaquah. I certainly shouldn’t have gotten involved with her. I knew it was a mistake, but somehow I hadn’t been able to stop myself. And now I’d gone and fallen in love with her, and there was no way that was going to end well for me.

A wealthy princess who still lived with her parents was never going to end up with a blue collar chauffeur like me. This wasn’t real life, it was an impulsive road trip. I’d seen this trope in several movies. It never ended well. Blair would head home, back to her mansion and her private chef and fancy job and forget all about the woman she’d fooled around with on her big adventure.

Despite my brain telling me this was over, my heart couldn’t help but hope this would all work out. Somehow.

The cops shoved me into the back of a squad car while curious onlookers watched. To my relief, when we got to the police station the cops led me to an interrogation room instead of putting me in a cell. It was a small room with a table and three chairs and a mirror that was no doubt a two-way mirror. The entire place smelled like disinfectant and despair.

A female officer entered the room, saw my state of undress, and returned a few minutes later with a cheap pair of sweats and a pair of non-skid socks.

“Where’s Blair?” I asked as I pulled on the pants.

“Miss Melbourne is being reunited with her parents,” the female officer said. “They’ve been very worried about her, based on the number of calls we’ve received from important people who wanted her found.”

“I didn’t kidnap her,” I said. “I work for a car service in Seattle. She hired me to drive her on this cross-country road trip.”

I knew that Blair would clear this mess up and exonerate me – if her parents didn’t lock her up and keep her from communicating with anyone. Thankfully, both Pops and Katy knew how this trip had started.

“Is sex one of the services you offer back there in Seattle?” the officer who’d cuffed me asked snidely. “You girls were clearly in the middle of something when we got to the hotel.”

He was one of those guys who became a cop just so he could push people around, that much was obvious.

“We developed feelings for each other on the trip,” I said. “Consensual feelings.”

When he rolled his eyes I turned my attention on the female officer who’d brought me clothes. She seemed to be the most reasonable person in the room.

“Aren’t I entitled to a phone call?” I asked her. “And a lawyer? What’s going to happen now?”

“We’re waiting for an update from the FBI,” she told me. “They have jurisdiction on interstate kidnapping cases. They asked us to hold onto you while they sort all this out. But yes, I can let you make a phone call.”

She slid a cell phone over to me and I dialed Pops’ number which was the only number I knew by heart anyway. He answered on the third ring, sounding winded.

“Pops! I’ve been arrested in Chicago!”

“What?”

I didn’t waste any time, not knowing how long I got for my call.

“There’s been a big misunderstanding. The client’s parents reported her as kidnapped because they’re crazy conspiracy nuts. I’m at…,” I looked at the officer. “Where did you bring me?”

“Central Station, Seventeenth and State.”

“Pops, I’m at Central Station in Chicago. It’s at Seventeenth and State. Can you call Katy Houghton and see if she can clear up this mess? She knows the whole story. Tell her that the authorities also took Blair from where we were staying at the Chicago Hilton. I don’t know where they took her, but the FBI is involved as well as the local cops.”

“I’m on it kid, don’t worry, we’ll get you out of there as soon as we can. Sit tight, and don’t say anything without a lawyer.”

“Thanks Pops. Hopefully, I’ll see you soon.”

To Katy’s credit, a guy in a fancy suit appeared less than an hour later, telling the cops he was my lawyer.

“Ms. Houghton told me the whole story,” the attorney, who introduced himself as Reginald Jones, told me. “We’ll have you out of here and back at your hotel within the hour.”