Read Online Prodigal Son by Debra Mullins - Free Book Online Page B

thought before the nugget dropped into his head.
    Arizona. Flagstaff.
    The elevator door opened to the hustle and bustle of the hotel lobby. A family of six with a screaming toddler waited for him to disembark. Rafe hopped off the elevator and headed for the nearest house phone.
    “Cara McGaffigan,” he said to the operator, then waited as the line rang.
    “Hello.”
    “Miss McGaffigan, this is Rafe Montana. I have a lead on your stepbrother.”
    “That’s wonderful news.”
    Rafe frowned. Her voice sounded strange. Flat. Almost disinterested. “I’d like to talk to you about it. I’m in the hotel. Can I come up?”
    “If you want. I’m in room 1292.”
    “All right, I’ll see you in a few minutes.” He hung up the phone, still puzzled by the lack of enthusiasm in her voice. What had happened to the woman he’d met yesterday, the one who had held him off with a can of pepper spray, determined to protect her stepbrother?
    He headed back toward the elevator and managed to slip into a car just before the doors closed on a bellman with a luggage cart.
    “What floor?” the bellman asked.
    “Twelve.”
    The bellman punched the number, and the elevator ascended.
    Twelve.
    It’s the VIP on twelve, sir. That’s what Gray had said. And Cara was on the twelfth floor.
    Coincidence? What were the odds that she was the VIP on the twelfth floor who had needed to call security? Wouldn’t she have said something if that were the case?
    Unless someone was there with her.
    He recalled the tone of her voice. Deadpan. Disinterested. His Hunter instincts flared to life. She was in trouble.
    He waited, the Hunter jerking with impatience, the crystal heating against his skin, while the bellman and his luggage cart got off on ten. Then Rafe pounded at the button until the doors closed and the elevator began to rise again. Alone in the car, he opened his senses, little by little, until the Hunter simmered at half throttle. He glanced at the camera in the elevator and wondered if Adrian Gray had something to do with Cara’s dilemma.
    For all he knew, Gray could be the one holding a gun to her head.
    The elevator stopped on twelve and with a soft ding, the doors opened. He sprinted out into the empty corridor, scanning room numbers and signs to find 1292. He came upon it at the end of a hallway, the last room in the corner.
    His hands opened and closed at his sides, his senses wide open and revved. He knocked. “Miss McGaffigan? It’s me, Rafe Montana.”
    The door opened almost immediately. “Hi,” she said with a vapid smile. “You just caught me.” She turned back into the room.
    He pushed in, prepared for anyone who might be hiding behind the door or furniture. His senses were all on alert, but the suite appeared empty, though it had clearly been tossed. A search? A robbery? Cara disappeared into the bedroom, and he followed her.
    A suitcase lay open on the bed, half packed.
    “Going somewhere?” he asked, pausing in the doorway.
    She gave him that vague smile and headed into the bathroom. “I’m going home.”
    “What do you mean, you’re going home?” He stepped into the bedroom and frowned at her as she came out of the bathroom with a makeup bag. “What about Danny?”
    “Danny can take care of himself.” She gave an airy wave of her hand, then dropped the kit into her suitcase. “He’s a big boy.”
    Something was wrong here.
    Rafe closed down his Hunter instincts to minimum vigilance, then grabbed Cara’s arm as she started past him again. She stopped and gave him an inquiring look, her expression as placid as a becalmed sea. But her eyes told another story.
    Death hovered around her like a dark fog. Nothing had changed there. But now there was more. He stared hard into her eyes and saw some sort of white haze tied around her thoughts, imprisoning them.
    It chilled him to his core. She was leaving town? What if she started driving in this weird zombie state and she crashed the car? What if that was the