“I thought you were meeting me here!” he all but hollered into the phone to no one. “I’m at the hotel now.” He twisted down another corridor and found two elevators.

Service elevators.

He turned in a circle and looked around him, acting confused. “What the f**k?” he said aloud in case there were cameras with audio watching. He punched the up button on the elevator and talked into the phone. “Upstairs? Where?”

The deserted hall wasn’t surprising. It wasn’t check in, check out, or mealtime. If there was a quiet time in a hotel, it was now. The service elevator made a noise and opened. He acted as if he were still talking on his phone and stepped inside. He pressed the uppermost floors and took a seamless ride to the top.

He stepped into a similar bare corridor and twisted around until he found a stairwell. The door opened easily and he shuffled up…toward the penthouse.

“Bingo!” he said as he stepped into the short hallway of Katelyn’s hotel home.

He tapped his pockets and put his phone away.

The mother didn’t make it inside the room. Only the corridor. He once again looked at the adjacent door to the vacant penthouse suite.

The mother could have rented it. Yet according to the online files he’d hacked into, it was vacant the night of Jack and Jessie’s wedding.

So where had the mother hid?

In the service hall.

Patrick let himself into Katelyn’s suite for a second time in a month.

Fresh flowers met his nose.

But that wasn’t all.

There, in the middle of the room, was a man wearing a cowboy hat and a frown.

“Who are you?” The stranger all but yelled the question.

Patrick plastered a smile on his lips and met the somewhat familiar man’s hostility with a smile. “A friend of Katelyn’s,” he said, using the same excuse he’d done before.

The man glared beyond him to the door. “She’s not here.”

Patrick thought of removing his jacket, but his service revolver was holstered and visible so he simply smiled. “Yeah, I know. She said I could crash here when I’m in town.”

The other man pushed up his Texas-issued cowboy hat on his brow and crossed his arms over his chest. “She did, did she?”

“She did. Who are you?” Patrick decided to act like a lover.

The man wasn’t dressed as a hotel employee and he acted as if he owned the place. Katelyn had made it clear Patrick wouldn’t encounter anyone in her room.

“Who are you?” The question was a shout.

“Ben Sanderson. Who the hell are you?” Best to act the pissed lover.

“Jack Morrison. Her brother!”

Oh, f**k!

Chapter Nineteen

Dean’s palms itched. Outside of the office or car hunting, he’d not spent a moment alone with Katelyn since the day he’d learned about Savannah.

That was all about to change. Knowing that Monica wasn’t home and he wouldn’t be interrupting “girl time,” he made a quick stop at home for a shower and a change of clothes after work, then headed straight over to Katelyn’s.

He parked his truck in a guest parking spot and walked up the not-so-quiet path to the apartment. Someone in the complex was playing music too loud, and someone else shouted something about taking the trash out.

Apartment living wasn’t something he ever had to endure. His parents lived well, invested in sound stocks that didn’t crash when Wall Street fell. His father’s upbringing was in rural Texas where his grandfather worked on an oil field. Hard work and Prescotts went hand in hand. Somewhere in the chain Dean’s father had moved from blue to white collar and passed that on to his children.

Dean knew how to do most of the jobs he expected of his employees, but he managed his staff better by acting as their mentor in the physical work.

Standing outside the apartment building was as foreign to him as it must have been to Katelyn the first time she’d come here.

Yet this was where she chose to stay…at least for now.

Dean knocked on Katie’s door and rocked back on his heels.

He rubbed his hands on his jeans and thought maybe he should have something with him, something to offer Katie…food…wine…diapers?

Katie opened the door wearing a pair of sweats—designer sweats, but cotton pants nonetheless—with Savannah on her arm. Katie hesitated and offered him a smile.

“I thought you two ladies might like some company,” he said with what he knew was his most boyish smile.

Katie’s cheeks turned pink. She glanced down at her little girl and asked, “What do you think, Savannah? Are we accepting strays tonight?”

Savannah lifted her head a fraction and Katie grinned. “Guess you can come in.”

He followed her through the door, closed, and locked it behind him.

“I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Those are the best kinds of visits, don’t you think?” Dean moved about the apartment while Katie put Savannah down on a blanket in the middle of the floor.

“Depends on if you like the visitor.”

Dean swiveled her way. “I hope I’m in the like category.”

Katie laughed and moved into the small kitchen. “As if you ever worry about that. Want something to drink?”

While Katie moved around the kitchen, pouring them both glasses of iced sweet tea, Dean kept an eye on Savannah as she played. The tiny wisps of hair were brushed back and bright blue eyes watched him intently.