“I’m going with,” Meredith said and came to her feet, which were noticeably bare, since she hadn’t expected the whole breakfast brigade so early.
He didn’t respond, just studied her. “All right. But I’ve got to go now. Can I get the keys to the Rover, Claire?”
“Oh, yeah. Here.” She pulled the keys from her pocket and tossed them to him. “Which brings me to my own question. I couldn’t help but notice Bonnie wasn’t out front. Is she in the garage?”
Meredith saw the look of something close to terror cross Travis’s face. So he hadn’t told her.
“I’m going to run and get shoes on and I’ll be right back,” she said, fighting back a smile, leaving the unhappy task of breaking the news about the car to Travis.
Only two minutes later, a pair of comfortable and stylish Toms on her feet, her lip gloss refreshed, the joke was on her.
The women around the table had the grace to look uncomfortable as they broke the news. Travis had left a minute before. Without her.
Something she took with as much dignity as she could manage, gliding across the room to pull her biggest mug from the cupboard and fill it with coffee and half-and-half. They gave her uncertain glances, but thankfully, returned to their tasks.
She sat, staring into space as she guzzled the coffee, trying to tell herself that Travis wasn’t avoiding her. And even if he was, it wasn’t because he regretted what had happened between them.
But she couldn’t convince herself of either charge.
She couldn’t stay here another minute as hot humiliation coursed through her. She needed to do something. Anything.
Then it came to her. Something that would not only get her out from under the women’s scrutiny but would help her feel like she was doing something for her daughter. Maybe even finding a clue.
…
Travis knew he was acting like a complete shit, but there was no way in hell he was going to risk Meredith’s safety again, not after the close call last night. Sure, she seemed to have handled herself pretty well by the time he found her and the cowboy, but the next time she might not be so lucky. And Lance would definitely be armed, having nothing to lose after all the television coverage going on as well as the fact that, thanks to Travis’s statement, the police were looking for him as a person of interest.
He wouldn’t put her in direct harm again.
Then there was also the other possibility—that he’d taken off because he wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to say to her. He knew Meredith. Knew she’d have questions and would want to discuss what had happened between them. Something he wasn’t yet prepared for, because he hadn’t figured it out.
Parked under the shade of a tree, he was sitting a lot more comfortably than he had in days, with the cold air blowing on his face and the soft leather of the bucket seats. He’d been watching the four-story apartment building for about ten minutes now, trying to learn the comings and goings of everyone before he went in. But so far, he’d seen nothing out of the ordinary.
Time to venture inside and see what Lance could share. From the laptop screen on the seat next to him, the signal seemed to be coming from the north end of the building. He grabbed his cell phone, still fixed on Lance’s signal, and was climbing out when his cell phone rang and he stopped. Jace.
Lance’s signal was stationary, clearly not going anywhere. He might as well hear the bad news about his future brother-in-law.
Jace didn’t waste time describing the kind of business Rick was a part of. Both on and off the books.
It was worse than Travis thought. A whole hell of a lot worse. Not what he needed right now. “Okay, thanks. I appreciate it. Would you mind letting me know if he moves any of his holdings? Does anything that would indicate he’s planning on leaving town permanently?”
Although if Rick knew what was good for him he’d do so soon, before the scary-ass drug lords he was in bed with figured out what he was up to.
Because either they’d take care of him or Travis would.
They disconnected, and he placed his phone on silent and locked the car behind him. It was around noon on a Saturday afternoon, and he could hear the screams and laughter of kids playing somewhere on the other side of the building. Some walkers passed by, barely giving him the time of day. Entering the lobby, he found the stairs and started up, trying to gauge what floor the signal came from.
On the third level, he pushed through the door and walked down the hall until he reached the end apartment. He listened at the door for any sign of activity on the other side. A television was on, but that was all he could discern.
He considered his options. Since he wasn’t entirely sure Lance was on the receiving end of that cell phone signal, he decided to knock first. Another minute went by, and he tried again. The door wasn’t locked. Looking around for another moment, he retrieved his gun and pushed open the door, staying behind it for a few seconds to make sure no one took a shot at him.
Still no signs of stirring. He slipped in and shut the door. He stopped short when he reached the back bedroom where the television was playing.
Damn.
Lance wouldn’t be of any use to him now. Not after the damage caused by the small-caliber bullet hole in the middle of his forehead.
Travis would call and notify the police of this development, but first…might as well take a look around. See if there was anything that could give him any leads.