I’ll be fine.”
Dylan smiled at her. “So I see, Mrs. Miller.”
Dylan stepped into darkness of the basement with Billy Clyde right behind him, feeling an immediate drop in temperature. After a few steps, his eyes adjusted to the dimness. It only took a few moments to know the basement was empty.
When they came upstairs, Mrs. Miller had a teapot on the stove. “Now, you two will tell me what is going on here. Sit.”
“We need to check the upstairs first.” Billy Clyde told her.
“Fine. The tea will be ready by then.” Her tone told Dylan there would be no arguing with this woman.
And she was the one with the shotgun.
CHAPTER 17
Propped up on pillows, Reggie watched reruns of her favorite TV drama but couldn’t stay focused on what Tony and Ziva were up to that night. Why had Dylan wanted her to leave?
One minute they were going to take a short road trip together and the next he was telling her to go without him. Maybe, he wasn’t taking the news of no children as well as she thought—as well as he acted.
Maybe he was sorry he’ d married her.
She closed her eyes as they filled with tears. I won’t cry. I won’t. If Dylan regretted marrying her, she couldn’t change that. God would give her the strength to deal with it.
She picked up her cell phone and hit the speed dial button for home. It rang until the voice message came on. She hung up without leaving a message. She wanted to talk with Dylan, not a machine.
After trying his cell phone, it rang until the voice message came on as well. She shivered as a chill traveled down her spine. Odd. He always picked up the phone when she called. She took a deep breath, refusing to let the tears fall.
Loud pounding on a nearby door jar red her out of her pity party.
More pounding and then yelling. “Misty, I know you’re in there. You let me in or I’m gonna break down this door and then you’ll be in trouble.”
Her pulse raced.
She hurried to the window and peaked out. She couldn’t see the man making all the racket, but she could hear him . The hotel clerk came running from the direction of the office. Someone must have called to complain.
Wanting to hear what was said, she moved to the door. Keeping it latched, she opened it ever so slightly.
“Sir, sir. What is going on? People are complaining about all the noise.”
“So, let’em complain. What do I care? My wife is in there, and she won’t let me in.”
“You need to calm down or I’m going to have to—”
“Have to what?” The man snarled. “Call the cops? I don’t think so. She’s my wife and she’s got my kids. You gotta let me in there.”
“If she wanted to let you in, she would have. You need to leave.”
“You don’t tell me what to do with my family, understand?”
Reggie could imagine the chest puffing going on between the two men. Misty and her kids weren’t safe. She had to get them away from this bully. More door pounding. Through the connecting door, she could hear Suzie crying.
God, help me to help them. Her gaze fell on the connecting door. Of course. She ran and unlocked it. Another door stood in her way. She gave a soft rap and whispered. “Misty, open the door.”
No response.
Misty probably couldn’t hear her, but if she yelled louder Misty’s husband might hear. She rapped again and whispered just a smidgeon louder.
No response.
More pounding and screaming. Good, the commotion might mask her any noise she made. Taking a chance, she knocked louder and called Misty’s name as the noise continued outside.
A moment later, the lock slowly turned.
Relief flooded through Reggie. The door opened. Misty’s eyes appeared, full of tears and terror.
“Hurry, come in here. Get your purse. If the manager lets him in, they’ll think you went somewhere.”
The door opened wider. Reggie rushed in and scooped up Suzie while Misty ran around picking up her purse and herding Noah through the door. All the while, screaming and pounding
Dylan smiled at her. “So I see, Mrs. Miller.”
Dylan stepped into darkness of the basement with Billy Clyde right behind him, feeling an immediate drop in temperature. After a few steps, his eyes adjusted to the dimness. It only took a few moments to know the basement was empty.
When they came upstairs, Mrs. Miller had a teapot on the stove. “Now, you two will tell me what is going on here. Sit.”
“We need to check the upstairs first.” Billy Clyde told her.
“Fine. The tea will be ready by then.” Her tone told Dylan there would be no arguing with this woman.
And she was the one with the shotgun.
CHAPTER 17
Propped up on pillows, Reggie watched reruns of her favorite TV drama but couldn’t stay focused on what Tony and Ziva were up to that night. Why had Dylan wanted her to leave?
One minute they were going to take a short road trip together and the next he was telling her to go without him. Maybe, he wasn’t taking the news of no children as well as she thought—as well as he acted.
Maybe he was sorry he’ d married her.
She closed her eyes as they filled with tears. I won’t cry. I won’t. If Dylan regretted marrying her, she couldn’t change that. God would give her the strength to deal with it.
She picked up her cell phone and hit the speed dial button for home. It rang until the voice message came on. She hung up without leaving a message. She wanted to talk with Dylan, not a machine.
After trying his cell phone, it rang until the voice message came on as well. She shivered as a chill traveled down her spine. Odd. He always picked up the phone when she called. She took a deep breath, refusing to let the tears fall.
Loud pounding on a nearby door jar red her out of her pity party.
More pounding and then yelling. “Misty, I know you’re in there. You let me in or I’m gonna break down this door and then you’ll be in trouble.”
Her pulse raced.
She hurried to the window and peaked out. She couldn’t see the man making all the racket, but she could hear him . The hotel clerk came running from the direction of the office. Someone must have called to complain.
Wanting to hear what was said, she moved to the door. Keeping it latched, she opened it ever so slightly.
“Sir, sir. What is going on? People are complaining about all the noise.”
“So, let’em complain. What do I care? My wife is in there, and she won’t let me in.”
“You need to calm down or I’m going to have to—”
“Have to what?” The man snarled. “Call the cops? I don’t think so. She’s my wife and she’s got my kids. You gotta let me in there.”
“If she wanted to let you in, she would have. You need to leave.”
“You don’t tell me what to do with my family, understand?”
Reggie could imagine the chest puffing going on between the two men. Misty and her kids weren’t safe. She had to get them away from this bully. More door pounding. Through the connecting door, she could hear Suzie crying.
God, help me to help them. Her gaze fell on the connecting door. Of course. She ran and unlocked it. Another door stood in her way. She gave a soft rap and whispered. “Misty, open the door.”
No response.
Misty probably couldn’t hear her, but if she yelled louder Misty’s husband might hear. She rapped again and whispered just a smidgeon louder.
No response.
More pounding and screaming. Good, the commotion might mask her any noise she made. Taking a chance, she knocked louder and called Misty’s name as the noise continued outside.
A moment later, the lock slowly turned.
Relief flooded through Reggie. The door opened. Misty’s eyes appeared, full of tears and terror.
“Hurry, come in here. Get your purse. If the manager lets him in, they’ll think you went somewhere.”
The door opened wider. Reggie rushed in and scooped up Suzie while Misty ran around picking up her purse and herding Noah through the door. All the while, screaming and pounding
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