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“You’re telling me.” She opened the refrigerator door and Zach, bending on one knee, looked inside. “Son of a bitch,” he whispered. “Son of a goddamned bitch.” He didn’t touch the bag, but said, “You have to tell the police about this, Adria.” He motioned toward the package. “This isn’t just a simple threat scratched on a note and slipped under the door.”
“I was just waiting.”
“For what? The sicko to come after you? No. There’ll be no waiting.” He crossed to the bed and swept the phone from its cradle. “Either you call or I will. But this has gone far enough!”
“Just hold on a sec. I said I’d call the police and I will, but…but let’s go back downstairs and finish our drinks. Think about this calmly.” She suddenly needed to get out of the room.
“There’s nothing to be calm about. This is serious, Adria.” Using a handkerchief, he pulled the plastic bag with its grisly contents from the refrigerator. “Is this what it came in?” he asked, motioning to the torn manila envelope on the desk.
“Yes.”
“Then let’s put it back.” He started to stuff the rodent carefully back into the packet.
“Wait a minute. What are you doing? We have to save it.”
“I’ve got a friend who works for the police department. A detective. He’ll know what to do with it.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“It’s better than anything you’ve come up with. You don’t want to go to the cops, fine. Let’s handle this discreetly.”
“I’ll have to fill out a report.”
“Yeah. Eventually. But come on, do you really want to spend another night with this guy?” He hitched his chin at the envelope where the rat was now tucked.
“No, I guess not,” she admitted, but she didn’t know if she could trust him.
As if he could read her mind, he said, “Believe me. I’ll talk to my friend ASAP. Come on. I’ll buy you a drink.”
“I don’t like being manipulated.”
“I’m just trying to help.” His gaze held hers for a second too long. “You’ve got to trust someone, Adria. And you’re the one who came looking for me a few days back. Not the other way around.”
That much was true. “Fine,” she said with a quick nod. “Have your friend in the department call me. I would like my necklace back.”
Zach lifted a dark brow. “You’d wear it again?”
“I don’t know. But I’d like the option.”
Carefully, he tucked the envelope into his jacket pocket and walked to the door.
“We need to stop downstairs at the front desk. Get new keys…”
“As if that will stop anyone,” she muttered, and hated feeling a little more secure because Zach was around. Which was just plain stupid. He was a Danvers. One of them. She shouldn’t trust him one little bit, but she didn’t argue when the elevator landed on the first floor and he helped her get a new room key at the front desk. He also impressed upon the woman behind the counter that no one, not even a member of the staff, was to go into Adria’s room.
“I don’t think your speech is going to help. Whoever wants to get into my room will find a way,” she said as they crossed the foyer to the bar.
“Over my dead body,” Zach whispered and held open the frosted glass door. Inside he chose a booth near the windows that had a view of the door. Zach could watch people on the sidewalk near the exterior door and he could also watch anyone slipping into the bar through the vestibule. Not that there weren’t hidden service entrances and back doors where someone could slip inside.
Adria had never felt more vulnerable in her life. And yet, silly as it was, Zach’s presence was comforting. If only she could trust him.
You can’t trust anyone, Adria. Remember that. Remember the notes. Remember the package that is now in Zach’s pocket. Don’t let your guard down for a second.
A waiter deposited their drinks and Adria tried to sip her wine, but she couldn’t enjoy a swallow, not with Zach so close, his eyes trained on the doorway, his jaw hard and set. Not with everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.
Zach glanced around the small establishment, his gaze scouring the patrons settled into dark, paneled booths or perched upon stools at the long, polished metal bar. “I don’t like this,” he said, ignoring his beer as laughter broke out from a corner table.
“That makes two of us.” But along with a case of nerves, she was furious. No one had the right to terrorize her. “Look, I’m not going to let that bastard, whoever he is, stop me. That’s what he’s trying to do, you know. I guess he thinks I’ll just shiver in my boots and hurry on back to Montana.”
