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Chance sent a text when he was awake. It was already mid-morning but we all needed sleep before we started the drive home. "Can you come over, I need some help?" his message said. Our new rooms were across from each other, so we'd lost our connecting doors.
I ran a brush through my hair, swished some mouthwash, and dashed across to Chance's door. His face looked a lot worse this morning with the bruises coloring his skin. "Missed waking up with you," he said.
I might have been waiting for the coughing to start or trying to come up with an appropriate answer. Sleepy, needy, shirtless Chance was a lot to handle when I was running on one cup of tea.
"I'm guessing by the look on your face, that I look about as bad as I feel this morning," he said, stepping back to let me pass. "Now that the fab 4 are going to be together all day, I thought we might need to touch base about the pieces of this puzzle we haven't shared with them yet."
My confusion must have shown on my face. "You know, the second journal and the location."
"Oh, right. I know we'll probably need to get them up-to-speed on that too, but I'm getting overwhelmed. Can we try to concentrate on one part of this at a time to see if we can make any real headway?"
He reached for me, but I stepped out of the way. I was going to need a lot of willpower to be around charming Chance and not want to be more than friends. Maybe reminding myself of snarky Chance would be enough to keep my hormones in check while I explored a relationship with Tom.
We decided it would be best to get Chance out of the hotel without attracting unwanted attention from the stragglers from the cryptid convention who were still around. I figured we could stop for breakfast on the road someplace where Chance wasn't such a celebrity.
I left Chance to shower and pack, while I knocked on Jim's door to let him know the plan. My second stop was Tom's door. He answered in his jeans but no shirt. I couldn't stop starring. His right pec had a tattoo of crossed anchors, I think it's the symbol of the Coast Guard. The left was decorated by a fireman related graphic. He reached out and pulled me inside, backing me up against the door. His lips were on mine, before I could say anything. However long we were kissing, it wasn't nearly long enough.
When he took a step back I thought I might just melt into a puddle on the floor. "Morning, Everly. I'd like to think you knocked on my door because you needed that, but I'm guessing you've come to tell me the plan."
"Plan. Right," I said, shaking my head to refocus. "We'll leave in a half hour if everyone's ready. Chance's face looks awful today, so he wants to avoid the cryptid people who are left in the hotel if he can. I thought we could stop for breakfast on the road at someplace where Chance won't attract so much attention."
"I doubt you'll find a place where everyone woman isn't looking at him and wishing they could ease his pain, but I get it. Sounds like a good plan. I'll get dressed and check on that police report before we go."
He pulled me in for another kiss. "I'm just going to go shower," I said, pulling away.
"I'd offer to help, but half an hour wouldn't be nearly enough time." He winked at me and closed the door behind me as I stumbled back to my room. Tom’s kisses were definitely passionate, and they had an affect on me. Much as I hated to think about my ex, I tried to think about his kisses when we were in love. Whether it was selective memory or not, I can’t say, but the hottest kisses I’d ever had were with Chance, though Tom was a close a second and miles better than anyone I’d ever kissed before.
The drive home was interesting. Jim drove with Tom in the front passenger seat and Chance and me in the back. I would have arranged things differently, but it wasn't something we discussed.
We stopped at a cafe in the first small town we came to. While we were eating, Tom's phone bleeped. He answered and walked outside to talk. "What's up?" I asked when he sat back down.
"That was my contact with the state police. He checked with the local PD. There was no report filed about an incident outside the diner on Saturday."
"The police came," I said. "He was in a marked car. I know I didn't imagine talking to him. Older, going bald, reddish brown hair, a little belly over his belt."
"I'm sure your memory is just fine," Tom said, giving my knee a squeeze under the table. "Something's going on. That's for sure. We need to find Helen Kepler."
"The car took out a parking meter. Could we find out about that from the city maintenance department or something?" I asked.
"Maybe. Jim said. "I think we need to get a private investigator involved. I've got a guy our firm uses in Missoula. He can work that maintenance angle and see if there are any security cameras in the area that might have caught anything. He can also help us track down Helen."
"Do it," Chance said. "We can't do all this ourselves. We have businesses to run."
I agreed. While we paid our bill and got drinks for the drive, Jim went outside and called his PI. "OK. I'll send him all the info I have when I get back to the office. I'll let you know if he turns up anything."