Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 132962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“No kidding? I thought it passed you up,” she said, beaming bigger.
“That’s what I thought. The chief just said those things take longer.” Cody bent again to take her offered hug.
“I’m real proud of you, Son. None of my kids are as focused as you. You get something in your head and it’s just gonna work out like that. You make me proud,” she said again with another kiss on the cheek.
“I gotta get going, Mom. I’ll be back for lunch on Sunday. I gotta work Sunday night.”
“No church on Sunday morning?” she asked.
“Probably not, but we’ll see. I love you.” Cody climbed back into the cab of his truck, started the engine, and rolled down the window.
“Be safe up there in Dallas. Those people aren’t as easygoing as we are down here. Did I tell you your dad’s up there with your brother? They decided to go to that police conference. Good thing you got your room reserved; they had a hard time finding a hotel. I think they had to go way far south, like Grand Prairie, to finally find a place to stay,” she said, shielding her eyes again as she glanced up at him to speak.
“I love you. Thanks, Mom.” Cody put the truck in reverse. She waved as he pulled away. Cody stopped at the main entrance of the road and dug through the file folder of information the chief had given him. He found the address of the stables in Waco currently boarding Ranger. He had wanted that to be his first stop, but he looked at the time and changed his mind.
The Texas Ranger’s Hall of Fame Museum was in Waco too. He definitely wanted to stop in there, and it was already rush hour traffic, with lots of miles to go to get to Waco. He’d do the museum tonight and stop by the stable in the morning. Decision made, he pulled his well-worn Texas Rangers baseball cap from the passenger seat and slid it easily on his head, grabbed his sunglasses off the visor, and hit the highway. He had some celebrating to do.
~~~
Five hours later, one drunken arrest, and all the DPD-required paperwork completed, Mitch stood in front of his sixth different hotel. All enquiries resulted in the same dreaded response, repeated with the same deep Texas twang, topped off with a sympathetic smile and shrug of the shoulders from the staff behind the front desk: No vacancy. Mitch was tired and grumpy, definitely past the polite Texas hospitality that kept leaving him without a bed. To top everything off, he hadn’t eaten since lunch. That clearly meant he was close to starvation, and now bunking down for the night in his rental car appeared to be a serious prospect.
To make matters worse, the latest establishment turned him away before he even took a step inside the lobby. What the hell? This was Dallas for Christ’s sake, he’d never had a problem finding a decent place to stay…ever. Who could have anticipated the International Police Association had chosen Dallas, Texas, for its annual conference, and apparently so had Geekfest—the same freaking weekend. What was there to possibly do in Dallas that could entertain all these officers and techies at the same time? Mitch stood on the front steps of the Omni hotel, waiting for his car to be brought back around. Because of that dumbass on the flight, he was hours behind schedule, his stomach had now begun to make annoying noises, and his patience had worn thin.
From out of nowhere, six beefy men stumbled across the steps where he stood. They were loud, wobbly, and clearly drunk. One lost his footing and took a nosedive, effectively taking out all the men in his group in an attempt to save himself from the fall. Mitch took one step backward, watching the whole scene play out in slow motion in front of him. Ahh…now it began to make sense why Dallas was the place for so many tourists and conventions in October—nice weather and lots of bars within walking distance from the hotels would draw them like flies to honey.
Mitch palmed his phone, then dialed the only other option he had. Colt picked up on the third ring.
“Hello?” Colt’s voice was gravely and thick. He’d clearly been sleeping.
“Please tell me you haven’t become such an old married man that you’re already asleep at ten o’clock at night,” Mitch teased.
“It’s eleven forty-five, and what’s wrong?” Colt asked.
“Who is it?” Mitch heard Jace’s muffled voice on the other end of the call. He’d clearly woken them both up. Damn.
“Mitch, babe,” Colt said to Jace.
“Is everything all right?” they both asked in unison.
“Listen, apparently there’re some conferences downtown. I got to the hotel late, and they gave my room away. I need a place to bunk for the night.” Mitch watched as his car pulled up in front of him. The human bowling ball and his pin men finally drew enough attention, and several of the hotel staff rushed out to help them up.
“We have an extra room. Need me to come get you?” Colt asked. Mitch had to take the long way around the men being carried inside to get to the valet. He grabbed his keys, handed the guy a ten dollar bill and was in the car driving toward North Dallas where Colt and Jace lived by the time Colt finished relaying the conversation to Jace.
“I got a rental. I’m headed there now. Turn the light on and for god’s sake make sure you put some clothes on. I don’t wanna see anything that’ll make you wanna kick my ass,” Mitch chuckled.
“That’s right! I still owe you an ass whoopin’,” Colt started, but there was some sort of commotion on the other end of the line, then he heard Jace’s voice.
“Ignore him. I’ll text you the new address. Call if you get lost, we’ll be waiting for you,” Jace replied.
“I have your address in my phone. It’s already giving me the directions. I’m on my way.” Mitch ended the call as he looped around Pearl Street to hit the North Dallas Tollway straight to the new Michaels-Montgomery casa.