going to the hotel and eating his evening meal. He had to know what
happened.
She had said her car exploded. He hadn’t taken her seriously. He
hadn’t listened to her. What was wrong with him? Why hadn’t he paid more
attention to the plight she was in?
What if he lost her now, now that he had just found her?
He couldn’t believe that he’d been so intent on the upcoming match
that he had ignored the potentially deadly situation she had put herself in.
What was wrong with him? It sounded like a lie, but he should have checked it out.
His manager, Leon, had downplayed things, claiming Stormy made
up diversions to help her brother. Was he just telling me that to get me to focus on the match
again? It was only four days away.
Still there was no excuse for him. No excuse.
His foot was pressed on the accelerator and he forced himself to
slow down. His getting in a wreck, or a speeding ticket, wouldn’t help any.
He had a press conference tonight along with Jerry. Jerry
wouldn’t be talking to anyone, so he guessed someone would have to stand in for
both of them.
It wasn’t important. Nothing else was important. Only Stormy.
He started praying. If only he weren’t too late.
If she intended to get in his head and mess up his routine, she
was doing just that. But he didn’t think so. Not now. If she had been hurt, or
killed, he had to know.
The bare Nevada hills radiated heat. It was late afternoon, but
the sun, although low, still added its warmth to the land. He read the
temperature off his car’s dash. 110 degrees. It had cooled off a little.
They said they hadn’t found a body. Was Stormy alive?
She wouldn’t let it go, of course, even when her car had blown
up. He now knew that Stormy wasn’t a fair weather friend. If she got in your
corner, she’d be there all the way. She was no quitter.
He worried all the way to Lake Havasu. It wasn’t a big place and
he soon found the search area.
He slowed down when he saw the police cars parked alongside the
roadway. A tall, dark-complected man was walking down the road toward him.
Dressed all in black, he was hard to see. Probably headed for the car parked on
the left side of the road.
Kyle recognized the man and the silver metallic Range Rover. Stormy’s car. The
one she had had at the hotel.
He stopped his car, jumped out, and ran over to confront the
walker.
“What did you do with her?” he demanded.
“I don’t know wha—”
“Stormy. I saw her leave with you this morning. She jumped into
a car with you.” Incensed, he grabbed the man by the arm and looked around.
There was a police car parked just up the road, with two patrolmen in it.
“Come with me,” he demanded, pulling the man’s arm. The man
didn’t budge. Kyle wasn’t used to that. Usually when he moved a man, the man
moved.
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
Kyle tightened his grip, feeling the muscles in the man’s arm as
he resisted his pull. He looked more closely at him to see if he carried a gun.
“I’m her cousin, Hugo. I’m helping her.”
Kyle glared at him. “Cousin? That’s a laugh. She said her cousin
was female.”
“That’s right. I’m married to her cousin, so now I’m kin.”
Kyle looked closer at Hugo. Looked at his eyes. Serious eyes. A
steady gaze.
“Can you prove it?”
“Ah...yes. I guess I can. In a way.” He yanked his arm out of
Kyle’s grasp and walked over to his car and opened the door. Curious, Kyle
followed him.
Hugo pulled a laptop out of the Range Rover and turned it on. He
put in a password and a series of wedding pictures appeared.
“This is my wedding four months ago. Stormy was our maid of
honor.”
He handed the computer to Kyle. There was Stormy, looking
radiant, beside a beaming blonde bride and Hugo and another man. In another
picture he saw Jerry and Hugo and three other men.
Stormy was in several of the pictures, definitely the maid of
honor at Hugo’s wedding.
Kyle looked up at him, not understanding. “Then...why did
happened.
She had said her car exploded. He hadn’t taken her seriously. He
hadn’t listened to her. What was wrong with him? Why hadn’t he paid more
attention to the plight she was in?
What if he lost her now, now that he had just found her?
He couldn’t believe that he’d been so intent on the upcoming match
that he had ignored the potentially deadly situation she had put herself in.
What was wrong with him? It sounded like a lie, but he should have checked it out.
His manager, Leon, had downplayed things, claiming Stormy made
up diversions to help her brother. Was he just telling me that to get me to focus on the match
again? It was only four days away.
Still there was no excuse for him. No excuse.
His foot was pressed on the accelerator and he forced himself to
slow down. His getting in a wreck, or a speeding ticket, wouldn’t help any.
He had a press conference tonight along with Jerry. Jerry
wouldn’t be talking to anyone, so he guessed someone would have to stand in for
both of them.
It wasn’t important. Nothing else was important. Only Stormy.
He started praying. If only he weren’t too late.
If she intended to get in his head and mess up his routine, she
was doing just that. But he didn’t think so. Not now. If she had been hurt, or
killed, he had to know.
The bare Nevada hills radiated heat. It was late afternoon, but
the sun, although low, still added its warmth to the land. He read the
temperature off his car’s dash. 110 degrees. It had cooled off a little.
They said they hadn’t found a body. Was Stormy alive?
She wouldn’t let it go, of course, even when her car had blown
up. He now knew that Stormy wasn’t a fair weather friend. If she got in your
corner, she’d be there all the way. She was no quitter.
He worried all the way to Lake Havasu. It wasn’t a big place and
he soon found the search area.
He slowed down when he saw the police cars parked alongside the
roadway. A tall, dark-complected man was walking down the road toward him.
Dressed all in black, he was hard to see. Probably headed for the car parked on
the left side of the road.
Kyle recognized the man and the silver metallic Range Rover. Stormy’s car. The
one she had had at the hotel.
He stopped his car, jumped out, and ran over to confront the
walker.
“What did you do with her?” he demanded.
“I don’t know wha—”
“Stormy. I saw her leave with you this morning. She jumped into
a car with you.” Incensed, he grabbed the man by the arm and looked around.
There was a police car parked just up the road, with two patrolmen in it.
“Come with me,” he demanded, pulling the man’s arm. The man
didn’t budge. Kyle wasn’t used to that. Usually when he moved a man, the man
moved.
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
Kyle tightened his grip, feeling the muscles in the man’s arm as
he resisted his pull. He looked more closely at him to see if he carried a gun.
“I’m her cousin, Hugo. I’m helping her.”
Kyle glared at him. “Cousin? That’s a laugh. She said her cousin
was female.”
“That’s right. I’m married to her cousin, so now I’m kin.”
Kyle looked closer at Hugo. Looked at his eyes. Serious eyes. A
steady gaze.
“Can you prove it?”
“Ah...yes. I guess I can. In a way.” He yanked his arm out of
Kyle’s grasp and walked over to his car and opened the door. Curious, Kyle
followed him.
Hugo pulled a laptop out of the Range Rover and turned it on. He
put in a password and a series of wedding pictures appeared.
“This is my wedding four months ago. Stormy was our maid of
honor.”
He handed the computer to Kyle. There was Stormy, looking
radiant, beside a beaming blonde bride and Hugo and another man. In another
picture he saw Jerry and Hugo and three other men.
Stormy was in several of the pictures, definitely the maid of
honor at Hugo’s wedding.
Kyle looked up at him, not understanding. “Then...why did
Similar Books
