He could get a look at the medical records of the patient who’d harassed Bianca a couple of months back, do a background check on the nut who’d been a problem at Cuppa Joe’s yesterday, accomplish both things without the nonsense of court orders. Computers were wonderful things, if you had the right skills. And if you didn’t have those skills, guys like Declan Sanchez did.
But this wasn’t Santa Barbara.
Okay. There were things he could tap into long distance…
A phone rang. Not his, which was in the pocket of his jeans. Bianca’s, in the kitchen.
It rang again.
A funny feeling came over him, that sense that something wasn’t right, and he held up his hand as he reached her.
“Baby,” he said, “wait…”
But she already had the phone at her ear.
“Hello?”
“Bianca. Give me the phone.”
“Hello?” she said again.
The phone shook in her hand. Chay rushed to her, grabbed the phone and put it to his ear.
“Who is this?” he snarled.
Soft laughter, and the whisper of a male voice.
“Did she like my little gift?”
“Listen, you sick bastard…”
“I hope she didn’t give it away to those two fine representatives of the law.”
Chay hit the disconnect button. Then he all but lifted Bianca to her feet. His face gave nothing away; his tone was brisk.
“Pack some clothes,” he said.
“Who was that? Chayton? Who was on the phone?”
“Bianca.” Chay gripped her shoulders. “Listen to me. Pack whatever you think you’re going to need for a few days.”
“Chay. Please, what’s happening?”
He pulled her to him. Kissed her hard and deep.
“Do you trust me?”
Tears were on her cheeks. He wiped them away with his thumbs.
“Yes,” she said. “With all my heart.”
“Then let me take care of you. Will you do that, honey? For me?”
Her eyes searched his. Then she took his hand, brought it to her lips and kissed it.
Twenty minutes later, they were in a taxi heading for his hotel.
CHAPTER ELEVEN