She's My Kind of Rain (Sue Thomas FBEye)

Chapter Three

Storm had remained silent for what seemed like an eternity.

Myles intently watched her. "You do realize I have to consider the possibility you're leading me into a trap."

She cocked her head. "I suppose you do, Carson, but—"

"Keep calling me Myles. It may stop you from backtracking."

"I'm not—" She briefly glared at him before closing her mouth and staring directly at the road in front of her. "I'm the one risking my life here, not you."

"I can protect you," he said with conviction.

She shook her head. "No, you can't. Nobody can. I'll tell you what I know, but I'll never testify. Do we have a deal?"

He reluctantly nodded. "I'm listening."

"The couple you're interested in checked in the day before last. They had dinner in the lounge. I sketched them while they were dancing—probably why I remember them. I left before them and never saw them again. In the wee hours, comings and goings in the house woke me up. I'm not sure who was there, but I overheard their discussion. They had captured a couple and they were worried someone would be looking for them They were planning on abandoning them in the mine so if they were ever found, it would look like they accidently got lost and died."

He knew of Jack's passion for caves. If anyone could survive in there, it'd be Jack. "Are you certain they were talking about Sue and Jack MacLean?"

"Not absolutely, not until the morning when I realize their names had been erased from the registry book and their room had been thoroughly clean. That was too much of a coincidence."

He agreed. "So you left a brochure under the mattress as a clue of their disappearance?"

"Yes. It was an old brochure I'd kept because I liked the picture. I didn't realize the page with the name or location had been ripped. Then you arrived. You...you sat at the same table they had sat. From there, you had a great view of the room. I know because I used to sit there to sketch before they changed the location of the speakers—"

He'd noticed the music blasting directly in his ears, but then he'd loved the song. After a while, he understood why she'd want to change table.

"—During the evening, Jack MacLean's gaze had traveled inquisitively around the room. And you...you looked around the same way—"

She impressed him with her keen sense of observation, but then he'd seen the details she added in her sketches.

"—When I caught you snooping in the registry, I had a gnawing feeling you might be looking for them. So I gave you their room. Either I was wrong and you'd owe me for a good night sleep, or I was right and you'd find the brochure."

"Storm, I know he's your father, but why didn't you go to the police?"

"I have my reasons," she said, her expression darkening.

***

"Jack, is it me or is it getting hotter in the tunnels?"

He pressed his palm over the glowing wall. No heat emanated from it, but the air around them felt warmer. It could be the effect her hands produced on his bare chest now that his shirt lay in pieces behind them—or it could also be from lack of food and exhaustion.

"Would you like to rest?"

Her brave smile didn't conceal her weary expression. She leaned in his embrace, her head coming to rest against his shoulder. "No. If I stop I'm not sure I'll..." Her voice trailed off, but he understood.