Sweet Dreams (Colorado Mountain #2)(207)

He could smell her perfume.

She was everywhere, her presence filled every damned centimeter of the room.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

He walked back down the hall, tipping his chin up to Jonas when he saw his son’s face wore so much concern, it had already turned haggard. Tipping his chin was the only thing he could do to communicate to his son as the fear clawed at his gut. He walked down the back hall to the mudroom, down the stairs. He saw his weight equipment and remembered, just the week before, working out when she was doing something in his office. He noticed she’d come out, leaned against the doorframe at the mouth of the hall and she’d been sipping coffee and watching him.

“Sissy,” she’d teased when she caught his attention. “You should come to boot camps with me. Tyler’d kick your ass.”

Jonas had been at school so Tate had made the decision to end his workout a different way, right in the hall. She didn’t complain. She liked him sweaty.

She liked him any way she could get him.

That fear clawed deeper and his calm slipped, his eyes got blurry, his mouth got dry.

“Focus, Jackson, f**kin’ focus,” he muttered to himself, his vision cleared and he moved through the dark, silent rooms and then came back to the weight room and stood still.

No forced entry. No signs of struggle. She wasn’t out on a quick, secret errand; she’d left the candles burning.

She’d opened the door to someone she knew. She wouldn’t disarm the alarm, unlock the door and open it to someone she didn’t know. She’d learned that lesson. She’d be cautious. Unless she knew who was on the other side.

Trusted them.

There were a lot of people Laurie trusted and they all centered around one place.

As he heard the sirens approaching, he pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket, flipped it open and called Krys.

“Hey Tate,” she answered.

“Who’s there?” he asked without a greeting.

“What?”

“Who’s at the bar?” he asked.

“Why?”

“Who’s at the f**kin’ bar, Krys?” he demanded.

“Um…” she hesitated, “Izzy, Bub, Jonelle, Jim-Billy, Nadine, Steg, Stoney –”

He’d asked the wrong f**king question.

He interrupted her. “Who’s not there?”

Another brief hesitation then, “You, Laurie… um,” she paused, “Tate, I wanna get you what you need but I don’t know what –”

“One of us, who’s not there, someone Lauren would trust.”

“Dad!” Jonas shouted from upstairs, his voice strong and scared at the same time. “The cops are here!”

Krystal heard him. “The cops are there?”

“Lauren hit the panic button. Jonas and I were out pickin’ up her Christmas present. We’re back. She’s gone.”

Silence and then Tate felt her terror coming through the line.

“No, Tate, no,” she whispered and he heard the tremor in her voice.

“What’s goin’ on?” Tate heard Bubba ask, his voice firm but distant, coming through Krys’s phone.

“Who’s not there, Krys?” Tate repeated.

“Tate –” she started.

“Who’s not f**kin’ there!” he roared.

He heard her phone jostling as he heard footsteps coming down the back steps.

“Tate?” Bubba was on the phone.

“Lauren’s been nabbed, it’s someone she knew. Look around, Bub, who’s not there?”

“Fuck, f**k, f**kin’ shit!” Bubba shouted. “Hold on, I’m doin’ a scan.”

“Jackson,” Frank said as he approached Tate.

“Give me a minute,” Tate said to Frank.

“Tate, buddy, no forced entry,” Frank said quietly.

Tate speared Frank with a look.

“Give me a f**king minute, Frank,” Tate ground out.

“Dalton,” Bubba said in his ear.

Dalton. Dalton was on when he’d fired Tonia but she was local, he had the rest of the night after the bar closed to pick her up and play with her.

Dalton was one of them. Good-looking. Easy smile. Not tall, not built but still lean and strong definitely bigger than the petite Sunny and what she was used to with Shambles. Lived local but not all his life. Moved there a few years ago. But outside of the fact he was a good bartender and dependable employee, Tate didn’t know one f**king thing about him.

Totally fit the f**king profile.

“Go to the office, check the back schedules, timecards. Find out if he was on the night Neet was murdered and if he was on the night that girl got done in Chantelle.”

“You remember dates?” Bubba asked and Tate knew he was on the move.

“Check the internet. Get Krys on it,” Tate ordered.

“Don’t have broadband to the bar, bud,” Bubba said quietly, he was in the hall.

“Someone in that bar has got to have a phone with internet access and if they don’t, we got a f**kin’ phone, make calls. Find the dates, check the schedules, I want info in ten minutes, Bubba, faster, you can do it. And pull his application, fax it to me.”

“Got it,” Bubba replied and Tate heard the disconnect so he flipped his phone closed.