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He didn’t know what the hell Scarlett had been running from, but the panic on her face told him everything he needed to know.
As the footsteps drew near, Jim licked his lips, his trigger finger tensing. The door handle went down and stopped with a click.
A bead of sweat traced Jim’s hairline and dripped off his jaw.
Scarlett’s warm breath permeated his T-shirt, but she didn’t let out one sound.
The footsteps moved away, and Jim wedged his finger beneath Scarlett’s chin and shook his head.
Would the men be waiting for them in the hallway? Did they know he and Scarlett had ducked into this closet? He pressed his ear against the door, barely discerning a murmur of voices. He and Scarlett would camp out in this little room all night if they had to—not the end to the evening he’d been anticipating.
With his back to the door, he slid to the floor, taking Scarlett with him. The maid’s cart and the shelves stacked with towels gave him just enough room to sit with his knees bent.
He pulled Scarlett between his legs, and she rested her back against his chest, her head falling onto his shoulder. He kissed her temple and whispered, “Are you okay?”
She nodded.
He tightened his arms around her. He wanted the whole story, but he wanted to keep her safe more. They had time and he was patient. Hadn’t he waited for his death in a filthy prison for nine months?
Over an hour later, Jim nudged Scarlett. “Are you sleeping?”
“Dozing. Can we talk now?”
“I think it’s safe to leave our self-imposed captivity.”
Twisting around, she placed her hands on either side of his face. “How are you doing? No flashbacks? No seizures?”
“Not even a twinge.” Bracing one hand against the door, he rose to his feet and stretched as much as he could. He helped Scarlett up and rubbed her back.
“Just stay behind me while I open the door.” He pulled out his gun and leveled it in front of him.
“Do you think they could still be out there? Waiting? Watching?”
“I think they went out the side door, so maybe they think we ran outside. I haven’t heard any noises on this end of the hallway, but keep yourself hidden behind me.”
He pushed down on the door handle, holding his breath. Then he eased it open a crack and peered through it.
“I think we’re good.” He widened the door and stepped into the hallway, gripping his gun at his side. “We’re taking the elevator. Just keep moving and run if I tell you to run.”
He jabbed the elevator button to call the car and let out a breath when the doors opened immediately on the lobby floor. He urged Scarlett into the elevator ahead of him and crowded her into the corner until the doors closed.
For several more tense minutes, they rode the elevator to their floor and Jim didn’t take another breath until he slammed the door to their room behind them.
Scarlett collapsed, throwing herself across the bed, one arm flung over her face.
He sat on the edge of the mattress and rubbed her foot. “What happened in the stairwell?”
She took a few more shaky breaths and hoisted herself up on her elbows. “Two men are planning to get rid of us.”
Jim hardened his jaw but didn’t stop massaging Scarlett’s cold, bare foot. “What men? Did you recognize them?”
“I couldn’t see them. They were whispering and talking so softly, I couldn’t distinguish their voices. The only reason I heard what they were saying was because of the acoustics in the stairwell.”
“Why do they want to get rid of us? What else did they say?”
“Because we’re meddling.” She sat up and dug her fingers into his biceps. “They’re planning more kidnappings.”
“What?”
“They said something about repeating what they did twenty-five years ago. We have to tell Sheriff Musgrove. We have to warn everyone.”
His hand moved up her leg and stroked her calf. “If they just put a target on your back, you’re getting out of Timberline. Maybe I should’ve let them catch up to us so we could’ve identified them.”
“They may know who I am, anyway.” She fell back on the bed and hugged a pillow to her chest. “I dropped that glass of wine. They don’t have to be rocket scientists to trace that back to the bar.”
