Hiding Out At The Circle C

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Haley went directly into the den, where she'd set her purse down earlier as she'd come inside to cook breakfast. Her beeper was vibrating and this time there was no message, just a phone number that she knew to be South American. Not only South American, but for her old apartment.

Where the murders had taken place.

She stared long and hard at Cam's desk. On it was a cellular phone that Nellie's mother in L.A. had insisted her daughter take home with her to that 'wild place.' A cell phone, based and billed out of L.A., in a different name from whose house she was in, couldn't be easily traced, could it? God, she didn't know, but she had to take the chance.

She dialed the number on the pager and stood rooted when she recognized Alda's cool calm voice giving a greeting.

'Alda?'

'Haley! My God. Where are you?'

Suspicion gripped Haley, though she couldn't explain it. How long did it take for a trace to take hold and locate her? Was Alda capable of such a thing? She had no idea, and was taking no chances. 'Alda, what is happening?' she asked quickly, watching the clock on the desk. She'd stay on for a maximum of sixty seconds.

'Exactly what it looks like!' Alda drew in a sharp breath. 'We need help, Haley. Who have you told about the system?'

'Wait.' She tried to think. Why would Alda care? 'Are the authorities looking for me?'

'Yes. Where-'

'Am I the only suspect? Are they questioning you?'

Alda hesitated. 'What are you saying?' Her voice had chilled.

'Where's Bob?' Haley asked, ignoring Alda's question and giving in to a terrible foreboding. 'Alda, where's Bob?'

When Alda hesitated again, Haley lowered the phone and gently disconnected. Her head was spinning, her heart heavy with grief, betrayal. Fear.

She had to risk another call on the cell phone, to the USGS. She set her purse on the desk and called Information.

Then, with shaky fingers, she dialed. But she'd no sooner heard the greeting on the line, when Cam strode into the room.

He smiled at her and she felt herself freeze, phone in hand. She knew enough about him to know he'd never sit idly back and let her deal with this alone. Nope, dammit. The cowboy would get himself killed.

'Hello,' he said easily, just as the USGS receptionist repeated her greeting a little impatiently. Cam walked over to the desk, moving papers around, obviously looking for something. He didn't seem to be in a hurry to leave, or to notice that Haley desperately wanted him to.

Damn it.

Carefully, she lowered the phone from her ear and flipped it off, disconnecting the now annoyed receptionist. 'I'm sorry, I know I should have asked to use this phone first-'

'Don't be silly, Nellie won't mind. And don't hang up on my account,' he said, glancing at her with a soft smile. 'I'll be out in a sec.'

Did his smile have to be so devastating? 'No matter,' she said lamely. 'It's… not important.'

He dropped his papers to the desk. His eyes never left hers as he came around to stand before her, but they went cold. 'Not important? Then why are you chewing your nails?'

She dropped her hand from her mouth with a small oath and turned from him. Why did he have to probe so deeply? Why did he have to look at her like it mattered?

She glanced down at the phone, desperate to make the call. To get this nightmare over with so she could go on with her life.

She felt Cam's hands on her hips, gently turning her to face him. In his usual unhurried and graceful manner, he slid those hands around her waist, slowly drawing her close. She had a terrific urge to plunge her hands into his hair, and surprised herself when she gave in to it. She knew she shouldn't have, but it felt so good to be held, wanted. To be alive.

'You've avoided me,' he said in a deep, husky voice, leaning forward to bring his lips to her hair.

How could she explain? 'I've been busy.' Against her better judgment, she tipped her head back, allowing him access to her neck, then nearly moaned as his mouth moved over her skin. 'Very busy,' she repeated weakly.

'Mmm, I've noticed. The house looks great.' He teased her ear with flirty little passes of his tongue, and her knees went weak. 'Make your call, Haley. I'll wait.'

Her eyes fluttered closed. 'I don't have to make a call.'

Feeling him stiffen, she pulled back and opened her eyes. He dropped his arms and his pleasant smile, and stared at something on his desk. With his jaw tight, he picked up the little piece of paper she'd scribbled USGS's phone number on. 'This is the number you were calling?'

'Yes,' she said, misunderstanding his cause for concern. 'I know, it's long-distance. I'll pay-'

'If you're going to offer to reimburse me, you'd better stop right there, or you'll really make me mad.' He turned on her, his brows knitted tightly together. 'USGS?'

'United States Geological Survey. I… have connections there.'

'Connections?'

'I'm sort of…' Damn. 'I'm a geologist.'

'I'm paying a geologist to keep my house?' He perched a hip on the desk, crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her. 'Why don't you tell me the rest, Haley?'

She had to tread carefully, she reminded herself as her temper flared. Very carefully. This man might move slowly and not have much drive when it came to worldly ambition, but he had a mind as sharp as a tack, and right now it was aimed directly at her.

If she was in danger, though, so was he. For his own protection, she had to make it good. Very good. 'I was just calling to check on a friend.'

'Actually, I'm still stuck on the fact you're a geologist.'

'It's no big deal.'

Turning her head away so he couldn't read the self-disgust in her face, she moved toward the door. She had to be alone. God, she'd lied with an ease that made her sick. Since when had she gotten so good at that?

Since her life, and that of everyone she cared about, was on the line.

'Haley, wait.' He cursed when she didn't. 'Just-' He swore again, and at the sound of a thump, Haley turned. She'd forgotten her purse, and Cam had just inadvertently dumped it to the floor, scattering its contents.

'I'm sorry,' he said, lithely dropping down to pick up the loose items.

From the door, she could see what would happen, and was powerless to stop it. Her heart slammed against her ribs as Cam's hand stilled in midair.

On the floor lay her two bottles of pills. Eyes narrowed, he lifted them and scanned the labels.

Haley stood there, feeling stripped bare as he touched everything personal she owned. Finding her feet, and her voice, she squatted beside him and yanked up the purse. She extended her hand for the bottles, but he held them out of reach and looked at her.

'What are these?'

She almost didn't recognize his voice, it sounded so low and gravelly… and urgent. 'They're mine,' she said.

'This one is for ulcers,' he said, sounding horrified. 'And this other… sleeping pills? My God, Haley.'

Her throat burned, her face flamed with humiliation. She knew what her failings were, but to have him know, too, was worse than she could have imagined. Snatching the bottles from his hand, she put them in her purse, keeping her head averted. 'Get away from me.'

Still kneeling next to her on the floor, she heard him make a wordless sound of regret and concern. With a gentleness she couldn't face, he took her shoulders in his hands, turning her toward him. 'You're sick.'

'No.' She dropped her gaze and noticed the T-shirt he wore had slightly frayed sleeves where they stretched over his biceps. His chest seemed impossibly wide. It should he illegal, she thought a little wildly, for a man to look