Lost and Found Read online

  "Oh, my goodness! You took her from the men who kidnapped her?"

  "That's right. She's not hurt and—"

  "Well, of course she's not hurt. Oh, dear. Oh, dear, this is terrible. We didn't plan on this at all. Not at all. You'll just have to give her back. At once, do you hear me? At once! This is terrible."

  The thin voice babbled on but Sam wasn't listening. He held the receiver away from his ear and stared at it. He was so tired he was hallucinating. That would explain it. Otherwise, it didn't make any sense.

  He cut into the flow of fluttering protests. "Ma'am, I don't think you understand. I've rescued her. I'm not one of the kidnappers."

  "Oh, my. This is terrible. This wasn't the way it was supposed to go at all. Dodie, my dear, we have a terrible problem. There's a man on the phone who says he's rescued Babette. I've told him he'll have to give her back at once."

  Sam rubbed his fingers across his forehead. Somehow, he had the feeling he'd lost track of this conversation. There was some vital piece missing.

  "Whom am I speaking to?" The new voice was strong and forceful and Sam almost sighed with relief.

  "My name is Sam Delanian."

  "This is Dodie Davis. What do you know about Babette?"

  "I tried to explain to the other lady, I have your niece safe and sound."

  There was a long pause at the other end of the line and Sam felt an uneasy tingle start at the base of his spine and work its way up until the hair on the back of his neck was standing on end. Something was not right here.

  "I'm afraid you've put quite a crimp in our plans, Mr. Delanian. You see, we paid those men to kidnap Babette."

  "You paid them?"

  "Yes. It was necessary to keep her out of the way for a short time. My niece can be less than cooperative and this seemed the only viable way to accomplish that."

  "By kidnapping her?" Sam lowered his voice, glancing at the bathroom door, listening to make sure the shower was still running. "Kidnapping is illegal, Mrs. Davis."

  "This was merely a temporary measure. She would have been released unharmed. Perhaps the small fright will make her a bit easier to deal with."

  Sam took a deep breath, swallowing his anger. He thought of the disastrously short rope of sheets that could have ended in Babs breaking a leg—or her neck. He thought of the way she'd trembled against him when they'd hidden in the roses, waiting to be discovered. He might find Ms. Malone more than a little difficult to deal with but that didn't mean that he would condone kidnapping as a disciplinary measure.

  "Mrs. Davis, your niece overheard the kidnappers planning to kill her."

  "Nonsense. She's always had an overactive imagination."

  "The bullets they fired at us were quite real."

  "Perhaps they were only trying to do their job. I'm sure they had no intention of hitting either of you. They were probably afraid that they wouldn't get paid if you took my niece away from them. They're quite right. I'm certainly not paying full price for a job only half-done."

  She sounded as if she was talking about having her carpets cleaned.

  "Those bullets could have hit your niece as easily as myself."

  "You must be mistaken. The instructions were quite clear. They were to hold her for two or three weeks until they were informed that it was safe to release her." As far as Dodie Davis was concerned, that closed the subject. Sam rubbed his fingers over his forehead, trying to piece together some logic in all this insanity.

  "Why did you want to keep her away?"

  "That's not your concern. Quite frankly, Mr. Delanian, I'm more than a little annoyed with your interference but it can't be helped now. It will mean a great deal of money to you if you simply finish the job you interfered with. Keep my niece away from home for a few more days and we'll pay you ten thousand dollars."

  "But if I return her right away, the reward is fifty thousand." The silky anger in his voice was lost on Do-die.

  "Greed is a most unattractive attribute, Mr. Delanian."

  "Kidnapping isn't the most appealing habit around, Mrs. Davis." He let that sink in before speaking again. "I'd like to speak to Emmet Malone. Maybe he can make some sense of this idiocy."

  "Are you acquainted with Emmet?" Sam savored the hint of uneasiness in her overbearing tone.

  "Intimately." He let her digest that exaggeration for a moment. "Is he there?"

  "I'm afraid not. We tried to reach him but he was out of the country. I realize that this may seem unreasonable to you, Mr. Delanian, but the family really had no choice." Her tone was as placating as it was likely to get. Clearly, this was not a woman accustomed to explaining herself. That she was attempting to do so now was an indication of how important this whole mess must be.

  "I'm sure, even in your short acquaintance with my niece, that you must have some idea of how difficult she can be. We could negotiate your fee. But it's very important that Babette be kept away for a few more days."

  "I'll be in touch." Sam hung up the phone without waiting for a response. If Babs had grown up with that pedantic voice droning at her, it was no wonder she'd gone a little overboard in the defiance department.

  He closed his eyes, willing away the headache that throbbed in his temples. It was lack of sleep. That was why none of this made any sense. Or maybe some strange Idaho bug had bitten him and none of this was really happening. He was actually still lying in the middle of the rosebushes delirious with fever.

  That explanation was surprisingly appealing. This had started out to be a simple rescue mission. Simple, straightforward, with minimal danger. Instead, he'd been attacked by the victim he'd come to rescue, shot at, jumped in the woods and he'd lost a perfectly good rope and the back window in his truck. After all that, he should have been able to just sit back and relax and collect his fifty thousand dollars. Nothing was working out the way it was supposed to.

  The bathroom door opened and Sam sat up. "How is the shower?"

  "Fine." She was still toweling her hair but she'd put on her own clothes again. "Does the phone work? I ought to call my family."

  "I just called." Sam hoped he didn't sound as uneasy as he felt. "There.. .ah.. .there was no one home."

  Emotion flashed into her eyes and, for just an instant, she looked young and vulnerable and hurt. Then she shrugged and glanced away. "I thought they might have had someone there to answer the phone at least but I suppose that was pretty stupid. There's no love lost between us anyway."

  Sam didn't say anything. He knew, maybe better than she did, just how little love lost there was. But he wasn't going to say anything until he'd had a chance to think this through.

  Babs toweled her hair some more and then shook it back, finger combing it into tousled waves around her face. "You know, I was thinking about it. There's really no reason for us to spend the night here. We could get started now and I'm sure we could get to an airport by morning."

  "No. I mean, I don't think that's such a good idea. You've had a rough few days and, God knows, I could use a decent night's sleep. We can start out in the morning."

  "I don't particularly want to spend the night in this fleabag with you. I hate to be blunt but there it is."

  "It's not my idea of heaven, either, but it's the most sensible thing to do. We're both beat and neither one of us is familiar with this area. In the morning, we'll be rested and we can get directions from someone."

  Babs stared at him, her jaw set. Sam stared back, his expression calm. For a moment, it looked as though she was going to push the issue and he had visions of sitting up all night guarding the door to make sure she didn't sneak out. With a shrug, she capitulated.

  "Okay. We'll leave first thing in the morning."

  "First thing." He stood up and stretched. "Did you leave any hot water?"

  "There wasn't any to start with but there's still plenty of lukewarm."

  "If I go take a shower, can I trust you to be here when I come out?"

  She arched a brow, clearly disliking the idea of anyon
e telling her what to do. "And if I refuse to promise?"

  "Then I'll just have to take you in the bathroom with me and tie you to the sink." He smiled but there was something in his eyes that made her wonder if he wouldn't do exactly what he'd threatened.

  "I promise I'll still be here when you get back." He looked at her for a moment as if weighing whether or not to believe her, and Babs's chin tilted. She was not accustomed to having her word doubted. He made up his mind abruptly.

  "Fine. There's money on the table to pay for the pizza. I'll be out in a couple of minutes." He disappeared into the bathroom.

  Babs sat on the edge of the bed. She was safe. She let the thought sink in. Really safe. Sam Delanian might be an overbearing pig but she didn't doubt that he could take care of her. If nothing else, he'd protect his fifty thousand dollars. Funny how that hurt just a little. After all, he didn't know her. There was no reason why he should see her as anything more than a means to get the reward. Heaven knew she ought to be accustomed to people seeing dollar signs when they met her.

  She shrugged, tossing the towel over the back of the cheap vinyl chair that was the room's only furniture besides the bed and table. Tomorrow, she would see the last of Mr. Delanian. He would take her home, deliver her into the bosom of her family and disappear with his money. The thought should have made her enormously happy. The hollow ache in the pit of her stomach must be caused by hunger.

  By the time Sam finished his shower, Babs was well into her second piece of pizza. She glanced up as he stepped into the room and waved an expansive hand at the enormous pizza box that took up a good portion of the bed.

  "Not bad for a hick town. They must have an Italian cook."

  "The name of the place is Harry's."

  "Well, whatever their name is, it's good pizza."

  "Right now even bad pizza would taste good." Babs was sitting cross-legged at the head of the bed. Sam sat down at the foot, grabbing up a paper plate and selecting a slice of pizza dripping with cheese and mushrooms. "If I never spend another night crouched in the bushes, it will be too soon."

  "Did you spend all night out there?"

  "Uh-huh." He nodded, his concentration on the food.

  "You must have really wanted that reward." He glanced at her, catching a momentary vulnerability in her expression.

  "I wouldn't have left a dog with kidnappers. But there's no denying that the thought of fifty thousand dollars made last night's sojourn in the rose patch a little easier to take."

  Of course, there was no telling now if he'd ever see that fifty thousand. After his conversation with her family, he wasn't sure what he was going to do with Babs. It was too bad he didn't know how to get hold of Emmet. From what he'd seen so far, Emmet might be the only sane member of the Malone family.

  The pizza was devoured, the box stuffed in the trash can, leaving them with nothing to do but go to bed. Sam stretched, swallowing a yawn. A bed had never looked better. Glancing at his companion, he saw the doubtful look in her eyes as she looked from him to the room's one bed.

  "I'm not going to offer to sleep on the floor," he told her bluntly.

  "I didn't ask you to. I'll sleep in the chair."

  "Well, you can suit yourself but I think you'd be more comfortable in the bed. You can sleep under the sheet and I'll sleep on top of it. Quite frankly, I'm too beat to care where you sleep. The offer of a shirt still stands. It would be more comfortable than sleeping in your jeans."

  Babs looked at him, then at the chair and then at the bed. Sam was ignoring her, apparently uninterested in her decision. She glanced away as he tugged the snug black turtleneck off, revealing a lot of tanned skin and rippling muscles. The sight brought a funny little quiver to the pit of her stomach.

  Too much pizza. That's what it was. She'd simply eaten too much and her stomach was feeling a bit out of sorts as a result. It didn't have anything to do with the mat of black hair that covered his chest then tapered down to a narrow line trailing across his flat stomach before disappearing into the waist of his jeans.

  He unbuckled his belt and then reached for the snap on his jeans before glancing at her. Babs looked away quickly. Not that she'd really been looking at him. She couldn't care less what he did.

  "Have you made up your mind? If you're going to use my shirt, why don't you change in the bathroom? By the time you're done, I'll be in bed."

  "I don't care if you strip naked in front of me. I'm not a prude." Did that sound nonchalant enough?

  "Maybe I am. Are you going to sleep in the bed or are you going to sit up all night protecting your maidenly virtue?"

  She shrugged. "I think I'm safe enough with you. Like you said, I'll be more comfortable in the bed. I always sleep on the left side."

  "Tough. Tonight you can sleep on the right." He lifted a hand, stopping her furious protest. "I want to be closest to the door. On the off chance that someone tries to sneak in during the night, I think it would be a good idea if they ran into me first."

  Babs swallowed her protest, throwing him an irritated look. Did the man have to be so damn reasonable? "Guarding your reward?"

  "You got it. Not to mention my professional pride. Imagine how embarrassing it would be if they kidnapped you back after I went to all the trouble of rescuing you. Now, are you going to go change or not?" He reached for his zipper and looked at her, one brow raised.

  Babs snatched up the shirt he'd offered her earlier and stalked into the bathroom, wishing she were five foot nine so that she could stalk properly. At five foot nothing, a stalk was inclined to look more like a stomp.

  When she cautiously opened the bathroom door a few minutes later, it was to find the room in darkness. She peered around the edge of the door, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark.

  "It's safe. I'm modestly covered."

  "It doesn't matter to me. I just didn't want to trip over anything in the dark."

  She snapped off the bathroom light and cautiously made her way across the room, bumping her knees into the foot of the bed. Trailing one hand on the bedspread, she walked around it until she reached the pillows. Crawling beneath the sheet, she held her breath, overwhelmingly aware of Sam's long body only inches away. True to his word, he was on top of the sheet but the thin cotton didn't prove much of a barrier.

  If he decided he wanted to change the rules there would be little she could do to stop him, but she wasn't afraid. At least she wasn't afraid that he'd attack her. She wasn't quite sure what label to put on the vague fluttering in her stomach. Too much pizza, too much tension since the kidnapping—those were acceptable explanations. She didn't want to look any further.

  "Good night." Sam's voice coming out of the darkness was both unnerving and oddly reassuring.

  "Good night." She had to clear her throat to get the words out, aware that her voice was even huskier than it usually was.

  Despite the day's sleep, Babs was tired. It didn't take long for the lumpy mattress to lure her into sleep.

  Beside her, Sam lay awake, listening to her quiet breathing. The neon light outside flashed on and off, creating patterns on the wall opposite the bed. He stared at the wall, all too aware of the warm body lying just inches away. She was spoiled and demanding but he had to admire her guts. A lot of people would have fallen apart under the stress of the past ten days.

  But her guts was all he admired. Beyond that, she wasn't his type at all. He preferred tall, leggy brunettes. Short, curvy women with shaggy blond hair and eyes the color of a Hershey bar were not his style. It was a good thing, too. He had a feeling the next day or two was going to be difficult enough without the added complication of being attracted to Ms. Babs Malone.

  Chapter 4

  Babs woke slowly the next morning, reluctant to abandon the pleasant dreams that lay just beyond the reach of her memory. The bed felt warm and safe. She stirred, snuggling closer to the source of that warmth, surrounded by it. It had been a long time since she'd felt so cared for. There was a vague rumbling beneath he
r ear and she frowned, poking at her pillow.

  "Careful. Puncture wounds are dangerous." The quiet words evaporated the last of her dreams. She opened her eyes and stared sleepily at the broad expanse of muscles that lay in front of her nose. No wonder the pillow had felt so hard. Her hand lay a few inches away, looking pale and fragile against all that tanned skin. She moved her hand, combing it through the mat of hair, feeling it curl around her fingers.

  "Puncture wounds aren't the only thing that's dangerous." A much larger, harder hand came up to cover hers, stilling her sleepy movements. "I don't think you're going to respect me in the morning." The voice held quiet humor and Babs tilted her head back.

  Sam's eyes were only inches away, bright blue, alight with humor and something else that she couldn't quite define. His lean jaw was stubbled with two nights' growth of beard, giving him a piratical look that suited him.

  She blinked and then blinked again, awareness trickling into her sleepy brain. She closed her eyes but, when she opened them again, he was still there. Very large, very masculine and very close. She swallowed, becoming aware of just how close he was. She was plastered against him, her leg thrown over his hips, her head on his shoulder. The sheet was still between them but it was a fragile protection at best. Never in her life had she been so aware of the differences between men and women. She was surrounded by his masculinity, swallowed up in it.

  "What do you think you're doing?" The indignant protest lacked force. It was hard to be forceful when you were practically draped over a man.

  "I'm not doing anything." The look Sam gave her was full of innocence. "You're the one who moved to my side of the bed."

  "I told you I always sleep on the left side." It was a weak excuse but the best she could come up with on the spot.

  Sam's eyes were bright but he was kind enough not to challenge her. "That must be the reason."

  "Of course it is. What else could it be?" It was also difficult to put contempt in her voice when she was vividly aware of the warmth of his skin under her hand.