Why not Wyoming? (Wyoming Wilds Series Book 1) (18 page)

At Mendoza’s grateful nod, CJ backed further into the house,
giving her plenty of space. He’d heard good things about her, but only met the
female deputy a handful of times in passing. He knew from TV, and from talking
to Boone, that domestic calls were some of the worst. That was the way Teresa
was painting the situation and he didn’t want to do anything to make Mendoza
nervous.

Holstering her weapon and gathering Teresa’s clothes, the
deputy waved the shivering blonde through ahead of her before closing out the
wind. Huddling in a blanket Mendoza must have provided, Teresa tried to look
pathetic. Fantasy material or not, the thigh-high boots and stockings didn’t
look very warm. Too bad Annie wasn’t here. This would be great fodder for a
book. The deputy looked expectantly at him, her hand still resting on the butt
of her weapon.

“We’re not a couple. We split up over a year and a half ago. Teresa
wasn’t invited here, and she was never in the house tonight to be thrown out,”
he said, keeping his tone calm and factual.
Just the facts, ma’am.
“She
called around ten-thirty from my front porch, and wanted to hookup. When I
declined, she started taking off her clothes and I called the Sheriff’s
department. She sounded intoxicated. I was afraid she’d hurt herself or someone
else.”

The thin wail of a siren floated through the night air.   

“That’s not true! He invited me over to talk and th-then wanted
more. I told him I wanted to take it slower and he got pissed off.”

“Fucking really, Teresa?” CJ snapped. “Again?”

“I’ve given him way too many chances,” Teresa choked, turning
her watery eyes on Mendoza in an obvious bid for female solidarity. “I keep
thinking I can change him. You know?”

“It sounds to me like you’re the one that’s not going to
change,” the deputy said, lips twisting in disapproval. “This isn’t the first
time you’ve cried wolf when you didn’t get your way with Mr. Barrett. Only this
time it’s not just a he-said she-said. We have your conversation recorded.”

Mouth falling open, Teresa shot him a look of surprise.

“He can’t do that!”

There was a knock on the door.

“Sheriff’s department.”

Mendoza opened the door for her back-up, gaze still on Teresa.

“We can, ma’am. Mr. Barrett called the Sheriff’s department and
we record our calls. Put your clothes on.”

“There’s one she’s not used to hearing,” Boone muttered under
his breath as he joined the party. “What do we have?”

“When I arrived Ms. Owens was alone on the porch, half-dressed.
She says that Mr. Barrett invited her over to talk, got pissed off when she put
the brakes on his moves, and then tossed her out of the house without her
clothes, which I found on the porch with Ms. Owens. Mr. Barrett’s version is a
little different. No invitation and no entry, so no forced exit. The
conversation that Walden patched through to me on the way over here seems to
support Mr. Barrett’s version of the events.”

Boone nodded. “Have you been drinking, Ms. Owens.”

“What the fuck, Boone? Ms. Owens? We’ve known one another for
over twenty years.”

“And I could assume from your actions and speech that you’ve
been drinking, but I thought I’d ask, Teresa,” Boone drawled sarcastically.

“CJ’s being a dick.”

“Because he won’t sleep with you, or because he has a pretty
new girlfriend?”

“She’s not that pretty,” Teresa shot back sulkily. “She’s hippy
with big thighs.”

“Not all of us are straight up and down with a fricking thigh
gap, Owens,” Mendoza said, pulling her cuffs off her belt. “Move your skinny
ass. You’re under arrest.”

CJ bit his tongue. Feisty was right.      

“For what?” Teresa demanded, forgetting about the skin tight
dress she was trying to wiggle back into.

“Public intoxication, driving under the influence, disturbing
the peace, harassment, indecent exposure,” Mendoza intoned. “Do I need to go
on?”

Teresa’s head whipped toward him, her eyes pleading. “CJ
doesn’t want to press charges. Do you, baby?” 

“It’s not up Mr. Barrett at this point,” Boone said, nodding to
the female deputy to move things along.

Mendoza yanked Teresa’s forgotten stretchy dress down into
place and politely held her long coat for her. The blonde was shaking as she
slid into the leather. The tears streaming down her cheeks didn’t look so fake
now. A sob broke her lips.

“CJ!”

Guilt gnawed at him as the cuffs snapped on and Teresa was read
her rights. Mendoza escorted her out the door. He looked back at Boone, but his
friend was already shaking his head.

“This can’t go on, CJ. Not only is it a waste of our
department’s time, but you got lucky last time that we found a witness in the
parking lot. What if she pulls this shit and it truly comes down to he-said
she-said? Think about your reputation, your business, or that cute new
girlfriend.”

“Where did you see Annie?”

The frown left Boone’s face. “Facebook. There are wedding
pictures up on Tyler’s page and a bunch more on the lodge page.”

“And you deduced I had a new girlfriend from that?”

“I caught a glimpse of her in the Jeep the other day when I
flashed my lights at you. When one of my oldest friends doesn’t stop to chat,
he has something hide. So, I went poking around Facebook. Lo and behold, a
certain pretty brunette from the wedding party closely resembled the woman from
the Jeep. You two looked cozy in a couple of shots. All it took was a question
or two to the right people to confirm the facts. Police work.”

“My tax dollars in action.”  

“Night shift is boring,” Boone drawled, his shrug unapologetic.
“And that’s life in a small town. I’m happy for you. I hope it works out.”

“Me too.”

“In the meantime, we’ll get the crazy Ex out of your hair.
You’ll need your beauty sleep for the Hollywood crew tomorrow. “

“Do you know everything?”

“I’m good at my job.”

“Modest too,” CJ said, clapping his friend on the shoulder as
he went out the door.

“I’ll send the wrecker out to impound her car and we’ll let you
know when we need you to stop in.”  

Boone jumped off the porch and strutted over to Mendoza’s
driver’s side window for a quick chat. A minute later CJ watched the whole dog
and pony show go back down his drive, minus the lights and sirens. Locking up,
he shut off the lights and headed back upstairs. He glanced at the clock. He
ached to talk to Annie now more than ever, but one-thirty in the morning was
probably not the time to do it.

Elbows resting on the steering wheel, Annie dug her thumbs
into the base of her skull. She’d slept fitfully and woke up with a throbbing
headache. Neither fact gave her great hope for the day ahead. CJ hadn’t called
back. The rational side of her brain said there were a million possible reasons
why. It also reminded her that the man she was falling for had a job that took
him out of contact for days and weeks at a time. Getting clingy now was not a good
idea. She rolled her neck. Being rational was all good and fine, but her heart
wasn’t listening and her stomach was freaking out.

A horn honked behind her. She jumped, ring tangling in her hair
as she tried to jerk her hands back to the wheel. Yanking it loose, she glanced
both ways before hastily accelerating through the green light. Navigating
Monday morning traffic, she pulled strands of hair out of her ring with a
shudder and blew out a shaky breath. She needed to get her mind back on what
she was doing. She needed to get her mind back period. With the wedding, and
now all the promotional stuff for
Mackinac Monday
, she hadn’t scribbled
anything besides her name in weeks. Writing was her therapy. It was what kept
her sane, or at least what passed for sanity for a writer.

Hitting her turn signal, she eased the Jeep into a parking spot.
Maybe a morning of coffee and donuts with the library ladies was just what she
needed. Her first signing had been here, at the Grand Rapids main branch. The
staff had gone out of their way to calm her nerves and make a young local
author feel welcome. Their zeal for the written word was infectious and
humbling. Along with two dozen or so curious carpool moms and retirees, they
had made her feel like Nora Roberts that day. Annie had been back with every
book since.

Her folding handcart was lightweight aluminum and a real back
saver. Loading the boxes, she reached up to close the back hatch and her phone
went off. Pulling the dolly up onto the sidewalk, she fumbled for her cell. Her
heart soared when she saw CJ’s grinning face.

“Hello!”

“Hey, beautiful.”

His voice was rough with morning rust. He sounded so sexy.

“Hey, handsome. I miss you.”

CJ’s laugh sounded relieved.

“I miss you too. You wouldn’t believe how much.”

“It’s early out there.”

“Yep. Just sipping my first cup of coffee and thinking about
you.”

Glancing up and down the sidewalk, Annie played with the cart
handle.   

“I got your message that said we need to talk,” she whispered.

“Wow. Did I make it sound that ominous?”

“Those words do tend to have a negative connotation when put
together,” Annie admitted, hunching her shoulders and cupping the phone closer
to her ear.   

“I didn’t mean them that way. I just…” There was a long pause.
CJ cleared his throat. “Leaving you was really hard. I had a lot of time to
think on the plane, and during the layover in Denver. Long distance
relationships rarely work. I think—”

“Annie! Good morning! It’s so good to see you again. I can’t
tell you how excited we all are about the new book. The reviews have just been
fabulous and so tantalizing!”

The enthusiastic greeting and smothering hug drowned out CJ’s words.
Annie stumbled back, holding up a desperate wait-a-minute finger to the sweet
librarian.

“OH! Sorry, sweetie. I didn’t realize you were on the phone.”

“That’s okay, Margaret. Just give me a minute here,” she said,
turning her attention back to the phone. “I’m sorry. Are you still there?” 

“It’s okay, but it sounds like I better let you go,” CJ said.

“No!” she cried and then immediately lowered her voice, turning
away from the older woman. “I’m sorry. I want us to talk.”

“And we will,” CJ said, his deep voice soothing. “Don’t stress,
baby. Please. I know you’ve got a lot going on today. I just wanted to tell you
good morning, and that I’m thinking about you.”

Panic threatened and her words came out choked.

“Don’t give up on me.”

“Annie, I’m not giving up on you, or us. I promise.”

“Rarely doesn’t mean never,” she insisted.

“I know that, and if anyone can make it work we can.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“I do. I love you, Annie. We’ll figure this out. Trust me.”

“I love you too,” she whispered, lips curving at finally saying
the words.

“That’s what I wanted to hear, beautiful,” CJ said, the smile
so clear in his voice she could picture the dimples. “Now, go make those
readers fall in love with my talented, witty woman. And anytime you start to
feel nervous today, just imagine me there holding your hand.”

“I will.”

“Not sure how late I’ll be, but I will try to call you tonight.
Text me when you’re done for the day.”

“Okay. It doesn’t matter how late it is. Just call,” Annie
said, looking up as another of the library staff arrived with more donut boxes
in her arms.  

“If you’re sure.”

“I am. Be safe out there.”

“Will do. Love you.”

“I love you too. Bye,” she whispered.

Hanging up, she could feel herself blushing. She smiled shyly
at the older women, waggling her phone at them before pocketing it.

“Sorry about that. My boyfriend is in Wyoming, and we’ve been
playing phone tag.”

Even though their conversation had been short, and the talk was
looming, it felt good to still be calling CJ her boyfriend. She sent up a
prayer that they could make this work. Rubbing her chest to chase away the tightness,
she checked the key fob to make sure the Jeep was locked. The library was a
safe haven. Margaret and Audrey were like old friends. There was no reason to
panic.

“Let’s get you inside out of the cold.”

“With the smile he puts on her face, Annie isn’t feeling the
cold,” Margaret teased.   

“Well then let’s get inside, get the coffee started, and let me
get a look at this new book so I have something to warm me up,” Audrey said,
giving Annie a saucy wink.

She laughed and grabbed the dolly. “Lead the way, ladies. A
little caffeine and sugar sound like heaven this morning.”

Temple resting against the glass, Annie stared sightlessly
out the passenger window. Sleet bounced off the other side of the smooth
barrier. The chill did little to soothe the thudding pain that still wracked
her skull. She swallowed hard, closing her eyes as her stomach pitched
dangerously. The hours at the library had been pleasant and more than successful
enough to wave off her publicist’s qualms about the small time stop. They’d had
the argument before and it was why Annie had gone on her own this morning.
They’d met up for a signing at Grand Rapids’ largest remaining bookstore at
noon, and now were making the two-and-a-half-hour drive to Detroit.

“Are you sure you’re not pregnant?”

“For the third time, I’m sure,” she growled out through gritted
teeth.

“It would explain the moodiness, nausea and, if you told him,
your good luck charm’s sudden need to leave town,” Cami said with a humorless
smirk.

The publicist was still not happy with CJ.  

“He has a job,” Annie said, not sure how many times she’d said
that today.

“He wasn’t too worried about that job at the launch party.
Weren’t you appropriately grateful for his hand holding?”

“If you’re asking if I put out after the launch party, none of
your damn business.”

“I’m going to take that as a no.”

“Take it any way you want.”

“You’d think with the big payday this close he’d be doing a
better job of kissing ass,” Cami said waving a newly lit cigarette as she held
her thumb and forefinger apart, indicating how close they were.

The words were too reminiscent of Angie’s nasty whisperings at
the café. They stabbed deep. It seemed her family and publicist, who she’d
considered a friend, thought money was the only reason a man like CJ would be
interested in her. If that was the case, she was in trouble. There was no
guarantee of this big payday everyone was talking about. Early numbers looked
good, but at this point that’s all they were, numbers. Numbers weren’t dollars
and hopes weren’t promises. Neither of them paid the bills.

Letting her head fall forward, she massaged the back of her
neck, thumbs digging into the tense muscles. Most authors weren’t going to get
rich. A vast majority never made enough to quit their day job. Her first five
novels had been distributed through a small press. Annual sales had left her
far short of the Federal Poverty Level for a single person. Thank God for her
uncle’s careful investing and the steady monthly interest payment.

When e-books had hit the market, Annie had explored the option
on her own. Not only had the new format delivered a boost in sales and income,
but the exposure had helped her find an agent, who had sold her sixth book to
her current publishing house. She smiled, remembering how the fifteen-thousand-dollar
advance from the large company had seemed like a fortune. After her agent’s
percentage and taxes, she’d quickly figured out that it wasn’t. With a little luck
she’d earned out her advance and procured a slightly larger one for book seven.
The next deal had been for three books with the publisher paying her thirty
thousand per book and hooking her up with the driven publicity dynamo known as Cami.
 Each novel had done a little better than the last.
Mackinac Monday
was her
tenth overall and the final book in the current deal. They both had a lot
riding on its success.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat before the
signing? You don’t want your blood sugar tanking. We don’t want a repeat of
Naples.”

The thought of food was repulsive. Annie shook her head, face hidden
behind the curtain of her hair. She knew she’d promised CJ she’d eat, but it
just wasn’t possible right now. Maybe it was good that Cami wasn’t talking to
him.

“My treat even,” Cami offered. “What are expense accounts for?”

Shaking her head again, Annie slumped back in her seat. If CJ
was in it for the money, he was likely to be disappointed. At her fairly pokey
pace of a book a year, deducting for her agent, the shit load of taxes a
self-employed person paid and the cost of personal health insurance—well, most
years she’d make as much flipping burgers.

“Okay, I sent the new schedule to your phone. It’s still Cleveland
tomorrow morning, but now three New York signings, Boston, Philly, and Pittsburgh
before coming back to Ohio for the Midwest loop,” Cami droned as the elevator
crept toward their floor. “Columbus, Cincinnati, Louisville, Indianapolis,
South Bend, St. Louis, Chicago, Milwaukee, and Bloomington. Then a quick jump
to Toronto before heading back down to Michigan for the home state small town
tour.”

Annie nodded at what she hoped was the appropriate moment as Cami
continued with dates and details. Besides being exhausted, her head still hurt.
How could she be starving and nauseous at the same time? Her eyes drifted shut.
The seemingly endless list of cities had one thing in common. None of them were
in Wyoming. She missed CJ.

“Is any of this actually registering?”

Her eyes shot open. What had she missed? She was saved by the elevator
doors sliding open. Cami followed her out and patted her arm.  

“It’s all on your phone. Call your boyfriend, make up, and get
some sleep.”

“Thanks, Cami.”

The publicist nodded with a small smile and strode off down the
hallway. Glancing at the room number scribbled on the paper sleeve containing
her keycard, Annie followed the signs to the end of the hall and her home for
the night. Groping for the light switch, she visually swept the room before
closing the door and pushing the lock into place. She shrugged out of her coat
and hung it with the garment bag. She immediately missed the warmth. Cranking
up the heat, she plopped down on the edge of the bed and unzipped her riding
boots. Sighing, she wiggled her toes and looked around. The chain hotel’s décor
was neutral and cookie cutter, lacking warmth or charm. Maybe it would bore her
to sleep.  

Not really in the mood for TV, she pushed to her feet and
wandered into the bathroom. She smiled at the heat lamp. It was a small thing,
but one of her favorite hotel luxuries. Maybe a hot shower would help relax her?

Starting the water, she retrieved her shower kit and pajamas
from the other room. On impulse, she grabbed her phone as well. She’d sent a
text letting CJ know she was done for the day and didn’t want to miss it if he texted
or called back. They needed to talk. After hearing his voice this morning she’d
thought of little else. It was hard to focus on making idle chit-chat when her
mind was wandering to the wilds of Wyoming. She was obsessed. Maybe there was a
reason authors were supposed to be solitary creatures.  

Stepping under the hot spray, she sighed in pleasure. The heat
lamp and water pressure more than made up for the bland décor. Turning, she
bowed her head and let the stream pound down on the back of her neck. While the
short conversation this morning had erased some of the ominous undertones of
the initial ‘we need to talk,’ she kept coming back to what he
had
said.
Long distance rarely works. That sounded like he had doubts, or someone he was
talking to did. Was he thinking of nipping things in the bud now, rather than
risk getting hurt if they didn’t work out?