With her heart pounding, she tiptoed into the room and poked her head around the bathroom door. She sagged against the doorjamb like she’d been punched in the gut.
Written on the bathroom mirror in her own red lipstick were the words: Your Next Bitch.
Chapter Four
As Matt dropped onto the hotel bed and crossed one leg over his knee to pull off his motorcycle boot, someone pounded on his door. He reached for his Glock tucked into the gun bag around his waist, his muscles tensing.
“Matt? Are you in there?”
He zipped up the bag and smiled. Had Kylie picked up on his hints and decided to join forces in more ways than one?
Thump. Thump.
“Matt! I need your help.”
That didn’t sound like a prelude to a seduction. He launched from the bed and yanked open the hotel door.
“Oh, thank God. You’re still here?”
Still here? Where would he go?
He took in her pale face and wide eyes, and his pulse ticked up a few notches. “What’s wrong?”
“Come on. My room.” She grabbed his arm and tugged.
Any other time, he’d be looking forward to a woman dragging him to her hotel room, especially this woman, but Kylie needed his help, not his…
“Hang on.” Pulling away from her, he retreated into the room a few steps. He swept his key card from the credenza and shoved it into his back pocket.
“What’s going on?” He followed her down the hall and waited while she tried to shove her card into the slot three times with shaking hands.
He covered her hand with his and plucked the card from her stiff fingers. He inserted it in the door and blocked her entrance. “What am I looking for?”
“It’s on the bathroom mirror. A warning.”
He unzipped his gun bag again and squared his shoulders as he walked into her room. The warmth of Kylie’s body pressed against his back, and if he turned suddenly she’d land right in his arms. Not that he wanted fear to drive her there.
She’d left the bathroom light on, and he charged into the small space. He read the words on the mirror with a tight jaw.
“Wh-what do you think?”
He braced his hands on the vanity and hunched forward. The sweet, cosmetic smell of the lipstick tickled his nose. Must’ve happened recently for the smell of the lipstick to be lingering.
“I think this idiot couldn’t have been in Mrs. Wilson’s English class if he uses your for you are.”
A soft sigh escaped Kylie’s lips and her upright posture slumped a little. “You don’t think it’s serious?”
Matt didn’t like the idea of some jerk sneaking into Kylie’s room and scrawling juvenile messages on her bathroom mirror, but it didn’t seem too serious. Not yet.
“Someone was able to get into your hotel room, so don’t take that lightly.” He smudged the lipstick with the tip of his finger. “Is this your lipstick? And if so, where’s the tube?”
“That’s definitely my lipstick.” She sidled up next to him in front of the mirror, bumping him with her hip, and grabbed a small leopard-print bag from the glass shelf above the toilet. She unzipped the bag and pawed through the contents. “And someone stole it after they used it for a marker.”
“The mayor was in the hotel, and he didn’t seem too happy about your investigation into Bree’s disappearance.”
She shook her head and her long hair brushed his arm. “I can’t picture Tyler Davis slinking around hotel rooms.”
He shrugged. “You never know. You need to report this to the hotel, anyway. Someone broke into your room.”
“And stole a lipstick.”
“And wrote a threatening, if illiterate, note on your mirror.”
Kylie’s forehead creased and Matt bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t want to worry her—it probably was that joke of a mayor trying to scare her off.
She gasped and covered her mouth. “He rifled through my bags, too.”
She squeezed past him out of the bathroom and he followed her. She pointed to a couple of suitcases on the floor, the contents jumbled. “Anything missing from the bags?”
“I don’t know.” She crouched down and sifted through her tossed clothing. “It doesn’t look like it.”
“Maybe just another scare tactic.” He snapped his fingers. “Hey, maybe the hotel has a camera on this hallway and we can expose the mayor and throw a wrench into his reelection plans.”
The lines stayed in place between her eyebrows, but the corners of her pretty mouth lifted. “That alone would be worth the shock I had when I walked in here.”
He met her eyes and lifted his brows. “You mean you didn’t sense beforehand that there was a message waiting for you?”
“It doesn’t…” She wedged her hands on her hips and blew out a breath, and then noticed his grin. She punched him in the arm. “Idiot.”
He laughed. “Do you want me to go down to hotel security with you to report this?”
“Sure. Maybe I won’t seem like a hysterical female then.”
He would’ve expected more hysteria from any woman after knowing someone had been in her hotel room, leaving a creepy message on the mirror and rifling through her bags. He liked Kylie’s measured response—not at all what he’d expect from a medium.
Maybe he could partner up with her after all. It might be easier if they didn’t have this sexual tension between them because that had screwed things up for him before. But nobody had ever accused him of being a fast learner.
They traipsed down to the empty lobby and reported the break-in to the front desk clerk. He summoned the hotel security guard, who shot down any hopes they had of a camera recording the dirty deed. Then the clerk exchanged Kylie’s card key for a new one and promised to ask the hotel maid on duty earlier if she’d noticed anyone suspicious on the third floor. The whole process took less than fifteen minutes.
They paused in front of Kylie’s door, and Matt slipped the new card in the slot. The green lights flashed. Pinching the card between two fingers, he held it out to her. “Are you going to be okay?”
She glanced over her shoulder into the room. “Sure.”
“I can sleep on…the floor.”
She folded her arms, a gesture that had no written all over it. “That’s okay. I’m good.”
His gaze traced the curves of her body, landing on her blue polished toenails peeking out of her glittery sandals. Kylie was a lot more than good. By the time he returned to her face, her lips were pursed into a line of disapproval.
He had to get a grip on this insane attraction he felt for her. He didn’t need the distraction, and she wasn’t exactly swooning at his motorcycle boots. He coughed and pointed to the door in her room that connected to the room next to hers.
“Do you want me to see if I can move into the next room?” Protection not seduction. “It’ll save you from running down the hall next time.”
Pushing her hair from her face, she quirked an eyebrow. “Next time? Who says there’s going to be a next time?”
“I don’t think there will be, but just in case.”
She lifted her shoulders and he trained his eyes away from the way her