ROCKY MOUNTAIN RESCUE by Cindi Myers Read Free Book Online

the hair dryer and whirled to face him. “What are you staring at?” she asked.
    She expected him to say something about her looks—to tell her she was pretty or sexy or a similar come-on. It was the sort of thing men always said, especially when they wanted to talk you into their bed. Instead, he straightened and uncrossed his arms. “I was thinking how wrong the Giardinos were to take you for granted,” he said, then, not waiting for an answer, he turned away.
    She stared after him, confusion and pleasure warring in her. What some cop thought of her shouldn’t matter, but she wasn’t used to compliments—if, indeed, he’d meant the comment to be flattering. The fact that he saw past her physical presence to something in her character left her feeling off balance. She was used to people taking her for granted—not mattering to others was a kind of camouflage. It kept you safe. For this man to really see who she was past her skin felt daring and dangerous.
    “Are you coming?” he called.
    “Yes!” She grabbed up her coat and purse and followed him across the parking lot to his car—a black SUV that looked like something a rich tourist would drive, not a federal agent. If Carlo’s kidnappers saw this vehicle behind them, they wouldn’t be suspicious.
    “Don’t get your hopes up that this is going to work,” he said as she buckled her seat belt. “If these guys are pros, they’ve already switched cars and headed out of town.”
    “But maybe they didn’t,” she said. “There isn’t much traffic this time of night. Maybe we’ll see them. They don’t expect anyone to come after them, so maybe they’ll be careless.”
    “That’s a lot of maybes.” He started the engine and put the vehicle in gear. “But criminals have done dumber things.”
    They turned onto the dark, deserted street and headed toward the highway. Streetlights shone on dirty snowbanks pushed up on the side of the road. They passed few cars; Stacy studied each one closely, but none contained anyone who looked like the man who had attacked her and taken Carlo.
    They drove to the edge of town, then turned back and headed in the opposite direction. Patrick turned into a motel parking lot. “Look for a black sedan with mud on the plates,” he said. “It’s a long shot, but they may have holed up somewhere close.”
    Scarcely daring to breathe, she leaned close to the window and studied each vehicle they passed: old trucks, new SUVs, brightly colored sports cars. But no black sedan.
    They checked four more motels with the same results. Patrick cruised through a silent shopping center. “I think they’ve left town,” he said.
    Profound weariness dragged at her. If she closed her eyes, she might fall asleep sitting up. Yet how could she sleep when Carlo was out there, frightened, held captive by strangers? “What do we do now?” she asked.
    “We need a plan.” He turned the car back toward their motel. “And we need more clues.”
    She took out her phone and stared at it, willing it to ring. “If they’d just call and tell us what they want,” she said.
    “Maybe all they wanted was Carlo.”
    Carlo was all she wanted, too. He was all she had in this world. She couldn’t accept that he’d disappear from her life this way. “He has to be out there somewhere,” she said.
    Patrick didn’t answer. In the blue-white light of street lamps he looked grim and forbidding, shadows beneath his eyes and the golden glint of beard across his jaw. He looked like a man who wouldn’t give up. She held on to that hope like a lifeline in a pitch-black sea.
    Back at the hotel, she sank onto the edge of the bed. Her head throbbed and her eyes were scratchy from crying, but the physical discomfort was nothing compared with the pain of missing Carlo and feeling so helpless to do anything to protect him. “I’m going to look next door,” Patrick said. “See if I can spot any clues. I’ll need your key.”
    She fished the card from her