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“And look at what happened,” Cole said gruffly, referring to Brian’s death.
His reference hurt, but she pushed the sting aside, refusing to let anything deter her from this overdue discussion. “How long do you intend to remind me of the mistake I made? I know I screwed up, but I can’t dwell on the past forever. I have to trust in myself and my instincts again and I can’t do that if the two of you are constantly trying to shelter me from harm.”
“We just don’t want you to get hurt,” Noah tried to explain.
“And I understand that. I really do.” She swallowed the tight knot in her throat so she could finish. “I might not have given either of you much reason to believe in me because of what happened in the past, but there are some things I have to do for myself. And while I’d really appreciate your support, if you can’t accept my decisions or trust in my abilities, I can go to work for another agency who will. The choice is yours.”
Cole wasn’t at all pleased that she’d managed to turn the ultimatum back to him, yet there was a glimmer of pride in the depth of his eyes that gave Jo hope. “We don’t want you going anywhere else,” he said, his tone sincere.
Relief rushed through her, yet she didn’t let her victory show. “Then we start compromising.” Which was the basis of any good, solid relationship, she thought, drawing on the advice that a smart older woman had offered her and Dean. “I’ll be extra careful when I’m out in the field, and you stop doubting what I’m trained to do and quit smothering me.”
“Fair enough,” Noah said, answering for the two of them.
“Then we have a deal.” She smiled for the first time in days and grabbed her folder of information off her desk. “And now, I’m off to check out my lead…on my own.”
This time, no one stopped her, and it was such a liberating feeling to walk out the door without an argument hanging over her head or her brothers’ words filling her with doubts and insecurities. Now she had a case to concentrate on, and a little girl to bring home to her worried mother.
She made the drive to Concord in twenty-four
minutes, pulled into the shabby motel parking lot where Roseanne’s husband had last made a credit card transaction, and brought her vehicle to a stop in front of the registration office. She entered the building and explained to the young clerk behind the desk the urgency of her situation and that she needed Michael Edwards’s room number. He resisted at first, citing motel policies, but was ultimately swayed to release the information when she’d let him glimpse her holster and weapon and gave a quick flash of her PI badge.
Michael’s room was on the second floor, and Jo silently approached the door and listened for sounds or voices. She heard a man’s rough voice shouting, his words slightly slurred, followed by a loud thump, and a little girl’s painful scream.
A chill slithered through Jo and her heart pumped furiously in her chest. She had to reach Lily, knew the young girl’s life was in danger, but Jo also realized that even if she could get Michael to open the door he most likely would keep the safety chain secured so she couldn’t get inside. And she wouldn’t risk antagonizing the violent man and possibly have him take his anger out on his daughter any more than he already had.
Frustration and fury swirled within her, and she returned to her vehicle to call for police backup. She was assured that a squad car would be there within fifteen minutes. To Jo, that seemed like an eternity when a little girl’s life was at stake.
Just as she disconnected the line with a muttered curse, a small compact car zipped through the parking lot and came to a stop right below Michael’s room. The neon sign on the roof of the car indicated pizza delivery, and since the parking lot was near empty of guest vehicles, she hoped and prayed that Michael Edwards was the one who’d had a hankering for an Italian meal.
She wasted no time pocketing her Mace and grabbing a wad of cash from her purse, then hopped out of the Suburban and stopped the delivery person as he started up the concrete steps. He was so startled by her sudden appearance that when she asked what room he was making the delivery to, he gave her the number, which matched Michael’s.
“I need to deliver that pizza,” she told the teenager.
A skeptical look pinched his features and he shook his head. “I can’t let you do that.”
She didn’t have time to cajole his cooperation, so she opted for the hard-line approach. “Look, I’m a cop and the man in the room is not only on the run from the law, but he’s prone to violence. Trust me when I say I’m doing you a huge favor by delivering this pizza for you.” Fear lit his pale blue eyes, and she took advantage of his apprehension and retrieved the cardboard box from his grasp, then shoved the bills into his hand. “There’s enough to cover the cost of the pizza, plus a huge tip for you.”
He took one look at the money in his hand and decided not to argue further, seemingly figuring he was getting the better end of the deal. He jumped back into his car and hightailed it out of the parking lot and onto the main road.
Not wanting to spare another second, Jo took the stairs two at a time, knocked on Michael’s door and announced, “Pizza delivery.”
She heard low muffled sounds and words she couldn’t make out, then seconds later locks unbolted and the safety chain slid free from the latch. The door opened a few inches, revealing a burly, unkempt man dressed in boxer shorts and a stained T-shirt. His hair was long and oily from not being washed, and the stench of body order and liquor that slipped up her nostrils nearly made her gag.
Still blocking the door and not allowing her to see inside, he handed her a ten-dollar bill.
She didn’t take the cash. “Umm, the total came to eleven seventy-six,” she said, hoping he’d move away to get more money and give her the space she needed to maneuver herself inside.
“Goddamn expensive pizza,” he grumbled and took two steps to the left to grab something off the nightstand—his wallet.
He fumbled through the bills and she nudged the door open wider to peer beyond the bed dominating the room. Her stomach turned over when she saw the little girl curled up in the corner, her eyes wide with terror and a bruise on her cheek. Her arms were secured behind her back and Michael had taped her mouth shut to keep her quiet. The whole scene was too reminiscent of another time, another place, and Jo’s entire body flashed hot, then cold.
Fuck, where were the cops?
She’d come this far and wasn’t willing to give up the leverage she’d gained. She focused on the one thought filling her mind, which was saving the little girl. Daringly, she stepped inside the room with the pizza box still in her hands, but Michael blocked her path before she could go any farther.
“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, his face flushing red with the beginning signs of rage.
She looked up at the solidly built man in front of her, and despite the sudden anxiety gripping her she forced a sweet smile. “I’m delivering your pizza, and a little something extra.” Calling on strengths she never even knew she possessed, along with her martial arts training, she planted her foot into his belly and shoved him hard. The breath whooshed out of him and the force of her kick sent him stumbling back into the room, which also gained her full entrance. Tossing the cardboard box onto the bed, she withdrew her can of Mace and aimed it straight at his face.
