Chapter 3
As much as she didn’t like relying on anyone, Cate felt some comfort and safety in Draco’s arms. After she stopped shaking, she took a step back.
Draco’s arms fell to his sides.
Cate turned to surveil the wrecked room. In all the years she’d been a private investigator, she’d seen many rooms like this, cataloged items, took pictures, and reported the damage to divorce attorneys, insurance adjusters and juries.
She’d been heartsick when she’d witnessed Dana’s home. However, this was the first time she’d witnessed her own place, her own things, scattered like so much trash.
Despite her desire to look at the damage with a detached, professional point of view, a shiver slithered down the back of her neck.
A stranger—a dangerous one at that— had touched her things.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway. As they grew louder, so did the heavy breathing.
Cate tensed.
Draco spun to face the new threat, crouching, ready to spring into action.
The hotel manager appeared in a flannel bathrobe and worn slippers. When he peered into the room, he flung his hands in the air and spewed a rapid-fire stream of angry German.
Draco pointed to the open window.
The man clapped a hand to his cheek and cried, “Ach du Schreck!” He reached out to touch Draco and then Cate.
“We’re okay,” Cate said.
Apparently too rattled to switch to English, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and barged into the room as he dialed what Cate assumed was the Polizei.
He moved through the room, speaking into the phone while waving his hand at the slit mattress, the toilet tank lid removed from the toilet, and the dresser drawers and their contents strewn across the floor.
When he ended the call, he turned to Draco and Cate. “Das ist schrecklich. Terrible. Terrible.” He spun in a circle several times, murmuring something that sounded like Jesses Gott while wringing his hands. As quickly as he’d arrived, he left the room and clomped down the stairs.
Draco stuffed the ball cap into the plastic laundry bag he found in the closet and tucked it beneath his jacket as more footsteps sounded on the stairs.
Cate shot a confused frown in his direction.
Draco raised a finger to his lips.
Moments later, two Kantonspolizei officers stepped through the door into the room, followed by the hotel manager.
Draco took charge, detailing what had happened, answering questions, and handling the officers with the respect and confidence of someone who’d done this before.
Cate wondered how many trashed rooms and personal attacks he’d had to explain in the past. She could have handled it just as well, but she was happy to let him take the lead this time.
When the officers questioned her about the attack, she gave her statement, describing the intruder as tall, heavyset, wearing dark clothing and a balaclava. She didn’t mention the ball cap Draco had hidden beneath his coat.
By the time the officers and the manager left, it was past one o’clock in the morning, and Cate was beyond exhausted, but not so much that she didn’t want answers.
When Draco pulled the laundry bag from beneath his jacket, Cate grabbed it from him. “That’s evidence,” she whispered, her gaze on the open door.
Draco shook his head. “Only if it gets into the right hands,” he said.
Cate sat on the edge of the stripped bedframe, her knees too wobbly to hold her much longer. She pressed her hands between her knees and sighed. “What now?”
“For one, you’re not staying here.” Draco dropped to his haunches in front of her and took her hands in his.
She didn’t pull them free. “It’s the middle of the night. Not all hotels have staff on duty this late.”
“You can’t sleep here.”
“We have to sleep somewhere.” She stared down at her hands in his.
“Cate,” Draco said, his voice calm, even, quiet.
One of the most infuriating qualities about him that drove Cate nuts. How did he stay so calm when everything was going to shit around them?
He tipped her chin up. “You can’t stay here,” he said.
“That man came through that window.” He nodded toward the open window, which let a cold breeze chill the room.
“He was looking for something. I’d say he didn’t find it, since he stuck around to attack you.
Which means he’ll be back.” Draco held her gaze, steady and level, making it hard for her to look away.
“I’m not letting you stay in the room he’s already identified as yours. ”
Her head ached, and she didn’t have the strength to argue. Nor did she want to argue or stay in the room in which she’d been attacked. “Fine,” she said. “Got a better plan?”
“I do.” He pushed himself to his feet, his hands holding hers tightly as he brought her up with him.
“While you were giving your statement, I texted Hammer. We’re moving to a place he uses when needed, located on the other end of Niederdorf.
It’s a small, family-run hotel. They’re waiting up to let us in.
The sooner we get your things packed, the sooner they can go back to bed. ”
Cate glared at him and pulled her hands free.
“You could’ve started with that instead of making me feel like we’d be sleeping at the polizei station.
” Though she frowned, she wasn’t really mad at him.
She was more relieved they didn’t have to stay in the same destroyed room they were standing in.
She started gathering her clothes, one piece at a time, too tired to care.
“It’s not a bunker like a police station, just a little no-frills hotel. From what Hammer told me, the room has a window, the owners serve breakfast, and Frau Bieri will absolutely judge us.”
Cate paused, holding the nightgown Hammer’s wife had loaned her, and shot a glance toward Draco. “Judge us for what?”
Draco took the gown from her, folded it neatly, and placed it in the gym bag Dmytro had given her. He refused to meet her gaze, looking like a man who’d rather step on a landmine than explain. “About that... I’ll explain when we get there.”
After trudging the ten blocks to their alternate lodgings, they arrived to find Frau Bieri waiting with a cross countenance and narrowed eyes.
She showed them up a narrow staircase worn smooth by centuries of use and flung open a door to a room not much larger than a closet, with a single bed pushed up against the wall and a wooden chair in the opposite corner on the other side of a small window.
Frau Bieri gave them a disdainful curl of her lips and left them, presumably to go back to her own bed.
“Wait—” Cate started to call out to the hotel owner.
Draco quickly nudged her through the door and closed it behind them.
“But what about you?” Cate asked. “Isn’t she going to show you to your room?”
“That’s the thing,” Draco said. “This room has everything you need.” He nodded toward the bed. “A place to sleep and a chair.”
“I see that,” she said, frowning.
As he turned to lock the door, realization hit her. “Draco.”
He set her bag on the floor and faced her. And there it was again, that calm, steady, unflappable look he’d used with the polizei. Had he fidgeted or broken out in a cheesy grin, she’d have thrown a shoe at him.
Cate basically knew what he was going to say before he started.
“Hammer and I spoke before we left the restaurant,” he said. “As a PI, we know blending in is what makes you good at what you do. You work best if you’re forgettable. No one remembers a lone female minding her own business while standing by an elevator.”
Cate rolled her hand impatiently. “Yeah. Yeah. Get to the part you know I won’t like.”
Draco dipped his head in acknowledgment and then waved a hand from his shoulders to his hips. “As a six-foot-three male, there’s no blending into the background. If I’m following you, beside you or in front of you, people are going to see you. You won’t be forgotten.”
Her frown deepened. “And what do you propose as a solution?”
“We hide in plain sight as a couple.” He met her gaze square on.
“An American couple on holiday, to be exact. It’ll be okay to stand out, taking photos along the quaint streets, arguing over restaurants, holding hands on the train, you know—” He gave a nonchalant shrug, his face its usual implacable calm as if he played tourist couple every day and it was no big deal.
Cate stared at him, a hundred feelings burbling up inside her.
“Nobody would think twice about a boyfriend following you around. A bodyguard? Absolutely. But not a boyfriend.”
She didn’t like it. But damn, it was a good plan. And that was what she disliked the most. It was the kind of plan she would have thought of if the boyfriend was anyone but Draco—the man who’d left her.
Still, it was the right thing to do.
Damn.
Still, she didn’t have to agree too quickly.
“You and Hammer, huh? You two came up with this idea without consulting me?” She cocked an eyebrow.
“We would have, but he grabbed me on the way out of the restaurant.”
“And you didn’t think to bring it up sooner?” she asked, raising the cocked eyebrow even higher. Let him sweat.
“I was thinking about it.”
“For quite some time,” she said with a slow nod.
His nod was crisp, his expression controlled, giving no indication of where those thoughts had gone. “Four hours,” he offered.
“And during those four hours of thinking, did it occur to you that faking a relationship with a man who left me without so much as a call, text, email or a kiss-my-ass might be…” she paused for effect, “…problematic?”
“That’s why it took me four hours to bring it up.
” His brow furrowed, and the calm, implacable demeanor of the evening faded.
“It was the first thing I thought about when we came up with the idea. It was on my mind as we walked through Niederdorf to your hotel. It’s occurred to me every minute since.
It’s the best plan. The only plan. Because I’m not going to let you continue this investigation alone, especially after a man showed up in your room, knew it was your room, and attacked you. ”
Silence stretched between them.