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“I’ll wait for you outside,” she declared as he lumbered towards her still pulling on his T-shirt.
“Probably wise,” he shot back with a wink.
Giggling, she’d stepped through the door and into the sunshine.
Life was good again.
Very good.
* * *
The Lazy Bones Motel was one of three in the town used by those on the rodeo tour who needed accommodation. Big John had called each of them and asked for Bailey Martin, finding her on his last attempt. His plan was simple.
Slip inside her room, scare the crap out of her, take whatever money she had, and maybe even have a little fun. He knew how to keep her quiet. He’d just threaten to hunt down and hurt her precious mare if she mentioned his visit to anyone.
When he arrived at the motel, he wasn’t surprised the parking lot was only half full. Most everyone would be at the show grounds. Not knowing the kind of car she drove was annoying, but finding a spot under the shade of a tree in the corner he had an excellent view. Lifting his field glasses from his glove compartment, he searched for cameras. There was only one outside the motel office at the far end of the building.
His lips curled into a sneer.
When she showed up and stepped from her car, or if she was there and left her room, he’d see her. He didn’t care how long he needed to wait. But no sooner had he lowered his field glasses when a truck rolled in. He hadn’t considered the girl would arrive with the bull rider, but John recognized the truck immediately.
“Fuck,” he grunted, “Why did you have to show up with him? Dammit to hell!” he snarled as he saw them climb out and disappear into a room.
Hoping the cowboy was just dropping her off he settled in to watch and wait. Barely five minutes had passed before the motel door opened, and to his dismay they both walked out, got back into the truck and drove away.
He frowned.
Another idea floated through his head.
The motel backed up to a hillside, and they probably wouldn’t return for a while.
Taking note of where her room was, he left his truck, walked quickly down the side of the building, then peered around the corner. He spotted a nearby dumpster, and a wide, empty space between the structure and the slope. More importantly, there was a row of windows. Finding a wooden crate next to the garbage, he checked its sturdiness, then picked it up and hurried to the window he believed was her room.
He grinned.
The window was cracked open.
Placing the crate on the ground, he stood on it and pulled open the window. But getting his bulky torso through the square space wasn’t easy. As he struggled and huffed, he almost changed his mind, but finally managing to maneuver his body all the way in, he expertly lowered himself to the floor and began to move around the room.
Before he discovered the risky but lucrative business of stealing horses, Big John burgled homes, offices, cars, and anything else that took his fancy. He was amazed at the valuables people would leave behind. The fools thought placing them in a locked drawer would keep them safe. It was laughable. But as he rifled through her things he found nothing of value.
“Shoes,” he muttered under his breath.
He’d almost forgotten people stuffed money into the toes of their shoes or boots. Returning to the closet, he crouched down and began searching her footwear. When he felt what he was sure was a roll of cash, he excitedly pulled it out, only to find it was white paper. Thinking it was wrapped around something of value he hastily unrolled it. To his horror, it was a short message addressed to him.
Hello John,
You made a big mistake taking those three horses. We’ll be meeting soon. I’ll let you explain, then watch you grovel and beg before I put a bullet between your eyes.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
John wasn’t given to panic, but his heart began to thump and he broke into a cold sweat. Thrusting the threatening message into his jacket pocket, he stared at the door, then back to the window, trying to decide how he should leave.
He’d had difficulty getting in through the window, and the idea of finding something to stand on and going through the ordeal again held no appeal. But the door would be risky. He finally decided to peek into the parking lot, and if the coast was clear he’d duck outside.
“I can’t fucking believe this,” he grunted under his breath as he strode across the room.
With his senses on high alert he opened the door barely an inch. Seeing no drivers or passengers in the parked cars, and no-one wandering around, he ducked out and walked briskly across to his truck. Climbing inside, he hurriedly reached into his bag for his liquor flask. It was only then he realized his hands were shaking.
