Chapter 15
Beau Whistler did not know the Feds had cleaned the security footage, and it wouldn’t have occurred to him to wonder because he didn’t know that was possible.
He was not trying to hide anywhere. He was preparing to move on and sleeping in a different motel every night because he had his own set of enemies who might be interested in taking him out.
He’d sold his old truck because he knew it wouldn’t make it to Mexico, took the cash from that sale and a little more from his stash, and bought a Harley off a guy who’d won the bike in a poker game.
But there was one thing still eating at him.
That cop who’d decked him in front of Dixon.
That incident was what had driven the wedge between him and the boss.
If that had never happened, then Dixon wouldn’t have been looking for someone to replace him.
Dixon paid for his decision, but in Whistler’s mind, the cop still owed him.
* * *
By the time Holly headed home, she was ready to get out of her work clothes and put her feet up. She had leftovers in the fridge from her dinner with Gunner last night. The only downside was eating them alone. But when she drove into her neighborhood, the idea of a quiet night was looking iffy.
Residents at the far end of the complex were having a party. She could see a faint pillar of smoke and guessed meat was cooking on a grill. A good half-dozen extra cars were lining the streets, and it appeared more guests were arriving.
“Please lord, don’t let this be an all-nighter,” she muttered as she drove into her garage. To her relief, the noise from down the street faded once she went inside and began her normal unwinding routine.
Upstairs to strip, shower, and get comfy.
Downstairs to graze through the contents of her fridge.
She shivered, wondering what life with Gunner Kingston would be like. For certain, it was going to be a wild ride.
After she ate, she called home. She wanted to hear her dad’s voice. She would know by the sound of it if he was doing okay.
The phone rang a couple of times before Garrett answered.
“Hello, ladybug, it’s good to hear your voice. Is everything okay?” he said.
Relief rolled through her. He’d called her ladybug, a name from her childhood. He was doing okay.
“Everything is very okay. How’s Granny and Travis?”
“They’re good. We all have our moments, but we’re getting there, honey. What’s going on in your world?”
“Work, and Gunner Kingston,” she said.
“So, this is getting serious?” he asked.
“Yes, and you better be happy for us. He’s moving back to Crossroads and building a house on the Kingston property.
I’m coming home, too. We’re making plans for life together.
He’ll be staying at their home, and I’m going to need a place to hang out until the house gets built.
Any chance of my old room still being available? ”
Delight was evident in Garrett’s voice. “This is wonderful news, Holly. Your room will always be here if you need it. I’m happy for both of you… So happy, and your mom would be over the moon.”
“I know, and thank you, Dad. I miss talking to her so much,” Holly said.
“We all do, sugar. We all do.”
“Tell Travis and Granny I said hello. I love you. Be safe,” she said.
“I sure will. Take care. Love you, too,” Garrett said and disconnected.
Holly put her phone down with a sigh. She had a bed for the duration of the construction, and she had Gunner. Life was good.
She turned on the TV for company and stretched out on the sofa to watch a show. Lulled by the voices, she fell asleep and was awakened a short while later when her phone rang.
She sat up and reached for her phone.
“Hello.”
“Hey, baby… You sound sleepy. Did I wake you?”
“I was watching TV and dozed off. Glad you called. I talked to Dad tonight. All is well. I told him about us, and moving back to build a house. I have officially been welcomed back to my old room for the time being, and he is happy for us.”
“Good to have that blessing, but I will officially talk to him, as well, when we get back. Did you get any flak from your boss after I left the office?”
“No, but my girlfriends gave me a little grief. They think you’re hot.
One of them asked if you had any brothers.
I had to break the bad news that you had two and they were married with children.
” Then she heard him laugh, and that soft, husky voice in her ear made her ache.
“I don’t know what your favorite color is, or favorite songs, but I know you love me, and everything else will unfold in its own time. ”
“Blue like your eyes. My favorite color is blue. I like most music genres, but because of Dad and the bar, I grew up on country music. I live for the way your breath catches when we make love, and how you move when you walk. I love the weight of your breasts in my hands, and the curve of your hips. Even the way your hair curls around my fingers, holding me fast. In my eyes, you are so beautiful. That’s what you need to know about me. ”
Holly swallowed past the lump in her throat. Every word he’d uttered was a caress. “I’m somewhat speechless. My God, Gunner. You make love with your words like you make love with me.”
“Love does that to a man,” he said. “Sleep well, darlin’. You are my heart.”
“Love you,” she said.
The call ended. She stood, set the security alarm, and made her way upstairs. She was certain she’d never fall asleep after that call, but she did, and dreamed of baseball and a tall, black-haired boy who ran like the wind.
* * *
By morning, Special Agent Lavinsky had made the decision to go public with the manhunt for Beau Whistler.
Every local news station was running with the story that Burgess Dixon had not committed suicide but in fact was murdered by his own bodyguard, Beau Whistler.
Whistler’s face was all over every TV station.
If spotted, there was a hotline number to call, but with a warning: do not approach; he was armed and dangerous.
* * *
Gunner caught the story as he was making breakfast. He paused to watch a clip of the special agent in charge of the case at a news conference being asked by a reporter in the audience how this tied into the informant list Dixon had left behind.
“This is an ongoing case, and we will not be commenting on it at this time,” Lavinsky said and took another question.
Gunner pulled the last piece of bacon out of the skillet, then cracked a couple of eggs into the hot grease, turned down the flame on the burner, and put a lid on the skillet. He was putting bread in the toaster when his phone rang. He smiled. It was Holly.
“Good morning, Hollyberry. How’s my best girl?”
She smiled. “Hollyberry is just fine. I’m on the way to work, but I called to ask if you saw the story about Dixon’s suicide being a murder and the ongoing manhunt for the killer?”
“Yes, I did.”
“He looks scary,” she said.
“That’s because he is scary. I suspect Dixon is only the latest in a long line of Whistler’s murder and mayhem.”
“Ewww, I hope they catch him soon.”
“So do I, darlin’. What’s on your agenda today?”
“I will be verifying that the deed to your place is up-to-date and waiting on my appraiser and an inspector to call me back. They have both promised to get to your house ASAP.”
“I need to be here for that, right?”
“It would be a good idea, if you can,” she said.
“Just give me a day and time,” Gunner said. “Love you. Miss you. If you’re up for a pajama party tonight, I would promise late-night pizza.”
“Why late night?” she asked.
“I was sorta hoping we’d be trying out my bed first. You know… The big one…that I sleep in alone.”
She laughed. “You are such a charmer. I will bring pajamas for eating pizza, but I will not be wearing pajamas in your bed.”
He sighed. “This is going to be one long-ass day waiting for you to get here. I might go visit my lieutenant again. The one in the hospital. I want to tell him myself that I resigned and see how he’s doing.”
“Pay attention,” Holly said. “Remember you knocked that Whistler man out once. He might be a man who holds a grudge.”
“Noted,” Gunner said. “Love you, honey. See you this evening.”
“Love you, and I’ll call when I’m headed your way.”
His toast popped up. He put it and his eggs onto the plate with his bacon and carried it all to the table, then poured himself a cup of coffee and turned the volume back up on the TV.
* * *
Whistler was out of the shower and getting dressed when he heard his name being mentioned on the TV, and then he heard the rest of the bulletin and cursed beneath his breath.
“How the hell…?”
But then he stopped. It didn’t matter how, but his ass was grass if he didn’t get out of Dallas. They would be looking for his truck, and he was patting himself on the back that he’d already sold it. They wouldn’t be looking for him on a Harley, and his helmet had a face guard.
He finished dressing, shoved everything into his pack, tossed the room key on the bed, and headed out the door. So much for that stack of pancakes and sausage he’d been planning to eat.
He mounted his bike and took off out of the parking lot, leaving rubber on the pavement as he went. One stop to fuel up, and he was gone.