Home For a Cowboy Christmas(16)

The next hour crawled by as she wiped down each spindle of the staircase and dusted the four rooms upstairs. Hoping to eat up more time, she cleaned each of the bathrooms, even though they were already spotless. She tidied her room, then went back downstairs.

Her gaze immediately moved to the door. With the music playing, she wouldn’t have known if anyone walked in. Emmy told the speaker to lower the volume as she checked the back door locks. Everything was as she had left it.

She tested the front door, as well as the side entrance. Those were locked, as well. But that wasn’t enough. She went to the windows, examining each to see if someone had tried to open them, while also looking at the snow outside to see if there were any footprints. Her growing fears eased some when she found nothing. But they didn’t subside entirely.

Emmy wrung her hands as she turned in a slow circle. Anxiety bubbled within her. Another attack was coming. She dragged in mouthfuls of air, trying to get oxygen to her lungs. Sam wasn’t around for her to cling to, and she couldn’t always count on the animal. She had to focus her mind on something else. Anything else.

Her gaze landed on the cabinets. With shaking hands and legs so weak she wasn’t sure they would hold her, she made her way over by supporting herself with anything she could lean on. When she reached the cupboard, she opened the first door and began slowly and meticulously removing each item, placing it on the kitchen table.

When the cabinet was empty, she wiped down the inside and then put everything back exactly as it had been. Each time the memories of her near-death rose, she acknowledged them and then let them and the emotions pass. It was something she remembered from a meditation she had once done.

It took considerable effort, but it seemed to be working—this time, at least. But Emmy couldn’t relax yet. With the first cabinet done, she reached for the second.





Chapter 8


Denver, Colorado

“What do you mean, you can’t find her?” Joe Roma demanded from behind his desk. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this furious. Or the last time his men had failed him.

“We’ve looked everywhere, boss,” Orso answered.

Joe looked the hitman over. He stood tall, his black hair liberally laced with gray. His dark eyes were hooded. He had laugh lines around his mouth, but Joe had never seen him crack a smile. Orso had worked for the Roma family for two decades now. Orso’s work was art. He went in quietly and left before anyone even knew he was there. Joe should’ve sent him to begin with. But he had wanted to give his cousin a chance to redeem himself in the family’s eyes.

“Emmy didn’t shoot Paulie,” Orso stated. “There was someone else there.”

Joe leaned forward and placed his elbows on the desk. Orso had spent years as a Denver police detective, and he had friends who were still cops. “You examined the scene?”

Orso shrugged, his lips twisting. “After every abbreviation in the book had their look at it. But it was clear by the way Paulie fell that the shooter stood at the entry. Paulie wouldn’t have allowed the woman to get near the door once he was in the hotel room.”

“Did one of the cops suddenly develop a conscience and return to stop him?”

Orso shook his head. “You paid them handsomely to leave their posts. They won’t be saying anything.”

Joe flattened his hands on the desk and pushed to his feet. “I’ve got to tell Paulie’s wife that he’s dead. Worse, Emmy is out there, and if she isn’t found, she’s going to testify against me. Then, everyone will know that the Roma family is back in business. We’ve kept things quiet since Arturo died in ’06. We’ll have everyone breathing down our necks again.”

“And you’ll be in jail,” Orso stated matter-of-factly.

Joe held the hitman’s gaze. “That’s right. Everything I built after my uncle died will have been for nothing.”

“Then I need to get out there and find Emmy before she ruins us all.”

“You have no idea where she is.”

Orso’s lips twisted again. “We couldn’t get to her handler. Dalton Silva is one of the few upstanding men who can’t be bought.”

“Bullshit,” Joe said as he sank back in his chair. “Everyone has a price.”

“Not Silva. At least, not according to the people who felt him out to see if he would be interested.”

“Do you think someone told Dalton what we planned?”

Orso drew in a deep breath and slowly released it as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t. I think he got lucky. Unfortunately for us, that means he has Emmy and is in the wind.”

“Won’t he have to call in and let someone in the marshals’ office know?”

“Not if he thinks there’s a leak in the department.”

Joe flattened his lips. “Which there is. Damn. I hate smart men like Silva. Unless, of course, they’re working for me. Do you think you can find them?”

“It’s going to take some time. They could be anywhere.”

“I’ll give you anything you need.”

Orso dropped his arms to his sides. Then, with a nod, he turned and walked out of the office, softly shutting the door behind him.

Joe closed his eyes and dropped his head back against his chair. His infatuation with Emmy had gotten him into this situation. Had he not tried to impress her, he wouldn’t have wanted her around after hours. And she never would’ve seen who he really was.