his name and tag number. He’d paid with cash, his preferred method of travel, but nonetheless there were shoddy motel owners out there and he didn’t want trumped-up charges or any attention drawn to him.
Wolf rested his arm on his door and nodded to the man, who still stood there. “There were no damages done to your motel.”
“You scared families in other rooms,” he pointed out, once again puffing himself to his full height of five-ten or so.
Wolf learned a lot from observing people. Standing at five feet, ten and a half inches, he’d spent his youth obsessing about his height. Which was probably how he’d noticed that men who weren’t as tall as other men looked a hell of a lot more impressive when they didn’t try puffing out like a peacock. Very few tall men did that. This desk clerk was doing his best to look as scary as possible and failing.
There was worry on the man’s face, though. Wolf saw that the man was trying to protect his motel single-handedly. The two women had already left.
Wolf nodded toward Mercy. “The kid is hot-wired. He thinks I wronged his mother.”
The desk clerk narrowed his eyes on Wolf, obviously not approving of men who abused women. Wolf didn’t, either. “He’s wrong, though. He threw a punch before he realized I’m alone and not with another woman. I would never do that to his mother. I love both of them. I’ll take the kid and calm him down. I do apologize if anyone was upset, or scared by the outburst.”
“Outburst” was putting it mildly, but the desk clerk calmed down a bit, his puffed-out chest relaxing. “Have a good night, señor.”
“You, too,” Wolf told him, then rolled up his window and glanced over at Mercy.
The kid was leaning on his handlebars. The parking-lot lights cast shadows over his face, but Mercy was going to have one hell of a shiner.
By the time Wolf hit the interstate heading north it was also apparent Mercy planned on following him. His Escalade could easily cruise over a hundred miles an hour if he wanted to push getting a ticket. Mercy, on that bike, could pace him without any problem. That one lone headlight in the middle of his rearview mirror became a thorn in his side as the evening wore on.
A few hours later Ben was eternally grateful when Marley took an exit off the interstate into a quiet, sleepy town. The tall, bright sign advertising the several motels along a strip off the road had never looked better. Wolf chose the closest one and pulled his Escalade in under the awning outside their main door. Instead of going inside, he came around his SUV and walked up to Ben.
“Do you plan on following me wherever I go?” Wolf demanded, his voice harsh but his face gray and slightly bruised. It would probably be colorful by morning.
“You broke into my home and took two postcards from me. I’ll do whatever I damn well please.”
“Suit yourself.” He pointed a thumb toward the motel entrance. “I’m going to get a room— another room,” he stressed, “and get some sleep.”
A pillow and blanket sounded so good. Ben considered his options. It was still a good six-hour drive to Zounds, if he didn’t hit any heavy traffic. It was seriously late, and his eyes were burning with exhaustion. The night wind slapping at him as he rode the motorcycle had the rest of him aching for a hot shower. Ben climbed off the bike and opted for a room, too.
He allowed himself only two hours of sleep. It was a high price for a short nap, but there was no way he could let Micah down, not after all he’d done for Ben. He would beat that damn bounty hunter to Zounds if it killed him. Then, the best thing that could happen was Micah wouldn’t be there. Marley wouldn’t have a clue where to go from there to find Micah any more than Ben would.
Ben was heading to his bike, seriously needing coffee, when Wolf Marley came trudging out to the parking lot. Ben cursed under his breath as he stared at the wild brown mop of hair covering the
John B. Garvey, Mary Lou Widmer