Page 77 of Desperate Justice
He’d told Allison it was best to stay apart because she was ruining his investigation, but Rafe knew he was the one who was ruining it.
Maybe he should have tossed in the towel, enjoyed the motorcycle run for the sheer thrill of riding instead of constantly analyzing everything.
Looking for ways to get to Hernandez and get evidence. The crime lord was his albatross, his constant obsession, making him lose reason. Rafe closed his eyes a moment, seeing the dead faces of his agents. He owed it to their families to deliver justice. But was he fooling himself?
The man has evaded us for years. You think you can be the one to bring him down, after all this time?
Appetite gone, he pushed aside the Styrofoam plate and sipped coffee. Nagging instinct made him look up when someone entered the dining area of the hotel.
Or perhaps it was the subtle, enticing scent of a light floral perfume he instantly recognized. A fragrance that rubbed against him last night and burned into his brain as he’d made love to...
“Allison,” he said aloud.
She stood a few feet away, and the first thing he noticed was her auburn brown hair, tangled and unkempt. Were those leaves in her hair?
Had she slept in the woods? Rafe glanced at the rumpled pink jeans, white silk blouse stained with dirt and the floral jacket with a slight tear. Same clothing she’d worn last night when she’d stormed out of his room.
And out of his life, or so he’d thought.
“Allison, why are you here?”
“I need your help.” Allison didn’t meet his gaze. “I wouldn’t ask except... I’m desperate.”
Rafe set down his coffee cup. “What’s wrong?”
Biting her lip, she shook her head. Alarm raced through him. All these months he’d known Allison, even in the thick of being with the dangerous bikers, she’d never lost her composure.
Allison was calm and cool when everyone else got rattled and ran around shrieking like banshees.
Not now. He pushed out his chair, took her hand and led her over to a quiet corner by the elevators.
“Allison, what is it? Did someone hurt you?”
The old protective streak rose up in a fury. “Tell me and I’ll find that son of a bitch and...”
“Diana’s gone.” She raised her gaze to him, and he saw, for the first time, the panic flaring there. “She’s missing.”
His mind raced. Rafe gripped her arms to steady her. Damn, she seemed ready to collapse. He’d never seen her this rattled.
“I need to call the police, but then I thought I’d call the FBI, and then I realized you’re the FBI and I thought of you, but I can’t risk calling the cops because they’d ask too many questions or not take me seriously or say it was a case of the wedding jitters and she ran away. But if it is, why is her veil splattered with blood? I didn’t know what to do or where to turn so I came here!”
“Dios Mio, she’s missing? Okay, take a deep breath. Let’s sit down.” He steered her over to one of the lobby chairs, now abandoned by hotel occupants who’d set out for the bike rally.
“Start at the beginning, from when you left my room. Tell me the last time you saw her. Leave nothing out.”
In halting words, staring at the ground, Allison detailed what she’d found. Rafe listened intently.
When she finished, his heart sank to his stomach. Didn’t look good, but he couldn’t alarm Allison any more than she was already distressed.
“Diana’s mood changed yesterday. Even I noticed it, and I barely know her. Did she get any phone calls, or texts, that upset her?”
Allison finally raised her head. “No. Paul is supposed to fly up later today. They were to marry Sunday. What am I going to tell him?”
“One thing at a time, Allison.”
“Should I call the cops? I should. But I’m scared, Rafe. Can you help me?”
The pleading in her big brown eyes, the genuine terror—hell, they’d make the sturdiest man melt.
