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Cam nodded. Rich had done his job.

“And the subject?”

“Heading west, in the direction of her hotel.”

A muscle knotted in Cam’s jaw. “Is she alone?”

“Yes.”

Perfect. Cam snapped the phone closed, tossed it on the passenger seat and settled in to wait.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THE hotel floor plans were on file at the city building department.

Cameron had studied them thoroughly. In late afternoon, he’d gone to the hotel and checked it out for himself.

Damned if he’d put a bunch of ballerinas in a place like this. He wasn’t sure it even deserved being called a hotel.

The building was what he figured a Realtor would call a Victorian. It was really just an old and weary brick hulk. If it had seen better days, they were long past. This wasn’t the best of neighborhoods, either. Not a bad one but certainly not the type the Chamber of Commerce would tout.

The idea of his Salome coming along this street at night, alone…

Except, she wasn’t his Salome. She wasn’t his anything. And if he had to give her credit for one thing, it was that she could take care of herself.

The building was big, though like many old structures it looked as if it had been added to as the city grew. When he’d strolled inside earlier, he’d noticed that it was relatively well-cared for.

Not that its condition mattered.

His sole concern had been finding a way to get into Salome’s room that didn’t involve the hotel’s front door or hers.

His reconnaissance had verified that an alley led to the rear of the building where fire escape stairs climbed the wall like the ossified bones of a dinosaur.

The window in Salome’s room opened onto that fire escape.

Perfect for an intruder.

Perfect for him.

Something moved across the street. Cam took a pair of binoculars from the seat beside him. He’d considered a night-vision scope, but there was enough ambient light on a city street, even this one, for regular glasses to work.

He put the binoculars to his eyes, focused and felt his heart thud. Yes. It was Salome, walking quickly along the sidewalk. All that golden hair, that proud stride… It was her.

He watched her go up the steps to the front door of the hotel. Watched it shut behind her. Then he tossed aside the binoculars and slid a coiled length of rope inside his jacket. He zipped the jacket, stepped out of the Porsche and trotted across the street. A quick look to make sure nobody was coming, and then he went down the alley that led to the rear of the building. Stepped into the shadows, looked up to the third floor…

Saw the light come on in what he knew, from the P.I. and the plans, was her room.

Cam took a deep breath, threw his rope over the suspended fire escape ladder, and began to climb.

Leanna locked the door to her room behind her and watched her breath plume into the chilly air.

She always thought of Texas as a warm place. Silly, she knew. It was a huge state with different climates. This time of year, the weather in Dallas was cold.

It seemed even colder in this dingy room. She and Ginny had tried everything to get more heat out of the old-fashioned radiator. They’d jiggled the on-off handle, turned it up and turned it down. Ginny had finally whacked it with a shoe, but nothing worked. Give it a few minutes and you adjusted, although coming in from the cold each night remained a shock.

Surprisingly, there was no lack of hot water. A hot bath was fine for relaxing muscles that had taken a tough workout on stage, plus it took the chill out of your bones.

She shrugged off her jacket, went into the bathroom, turned on the water and began undressing. Naked, she swept her hair from her shoulders and pinned it on top of her head, then added bath oil to the steaming water.