by B. J Daniels
He didn’t know what to say. His shock must have shown.
“Didn’t I have the right? It’s my body.”
Ford couldn’t help but wonder what his old friend would have done when he found out that his wife had been lying to him for years. “You could have adopted.”
She let out a bitter bark of a laugh. “That’s exactly what he said, telling me that we could adopt children no one else wanted because we had this amazing place to raise them.” She looked horrified. “Children no one else wanted? Over my dead body.”
Could her lies have led Humphrey to attack her? Maybe Rachel was telling the truth.
“Also, some money had gone missing from this foundation Humphrey had started. I was involved in it and he had the gall to ask me if I’d stolen it.” She took another sip of her wine, anger pinching her classic features.
Ford let out the breath he’d been holding. Now he realized how little he’d known about their relationship or the lengths Rachel would go to get what she wanted. “Did he threaten divorce?”
Rachel laughed. “He said he needed time to think. That he still loved me. But that he couldn’t look at me right then. He took off into town to see his girlfriend at the café. It doesn’t matter if they were actually sleeping together,” she snapped before Ford could correct her. “The girl was all doe-eyed around him. Just the kind of woman he’d thought he’d married.”
“That sounds like Humphrey,” Ford said. “The part about still loving you. He told me at the wedding that he suspected you were lying about the pregnancy and even why you wanted to marry him so badly, but he said he didn’t care. He loved you.”
Tears filled her eyes. “I never knew that.” She looked away again and downed more of the wine. “I hate to imagine what you must think of me.” Her gaze went to his beer glass sweating on the coaster on the coffee table. “You haven’t touched your beer.”
“Did you do it, Rachel? Did you stage the whole thing to get rid of him so you didn’t lose the money?”
Her head jerked around so she was facing him again. Color rushed to her cheeks, anger glinting in her eyes. “That’s what you think, isn’t it? You and the medical examiner.”
He couldn’t deny it. “Is it true? It’s just you and me here, Rachel. Tell me so I can help you.”
She glared at him for a long moment before she put down her wineglass and rose to her feet. “I think you should leave.”
He nodded. “Just one more question.” He motioned to the room, taking her in with it. “What did you hope to accomplish tonight with the dim lighting, the perfume, that silky outfit you’re wearing and the chilled beer glass? Were you worried that you’d lost my undying admiration and love?”
She shook back a lock of her blond hair that had come loose and fallen around her face. Her blue eyes were hard as ice chips and just as cold. “You have always underestimated me, Ford. If I wanted to seduce you, we’d be in my king-size bed right now.”
He smiled. “No, Rachel, this time, you overestimated yourself.” He picked up his phone. Turning off the recording, he looked up at her. “I came out here hoping you would tell me the truth. After all, you pulled me into this.” He glanced at his beer glass. “I can’t even imagine what you put into my beer, but I know now that you used me—just like you did Humphrey until you got tired of him. Was he going to divorce you? Is that why you killed him?” Her answer was that icy glare. “I wasn’t kidding about the medical examiner being on to you. You thought your old life was bad? Wait until you get to prison.”
With that, he turned to walk out. The wineglass hit the wall next to him and shattered, red wine droplets splattering against the white wall like blood.
He turned to look back at her seething angry face. Was this the last thing Humphrey saw before she pulled the trigger?
* * *
HITCH WAS SO relieved when she opened her hotel room to find Ford standing there that she threw herself into his arms. He smiled as if touched by her concern and kissed her. They stayed like that for long minutes.
“She didn’t buy it,” he said as they moved deeper into her room. “But she did try to drug me.”
“What?”
“I saw her put a powder substance in my second beer. But I did get something. She left her new phone in the room with me when she went into the kitchen. There was a recent photo taken of her tied to an iron bed. The only thing she was wearing was a Sweet Grass County Volunteer Fire Department jacket. It’s her new phone, so the photographer wasn’t Humphrey. She did it,” he said quietly. “I know she did it. I saw it in her face.” He sat down on the foot of her bed. “She killed him. She planned the whole thing right from the beginning fifteen years ago. I just don’t know why she waited so long.”
Hitch sat down next to him as he told her everything that had happened. Then he let her listen to the recording on his phone. When they’d finished, Hitch actually felt shocked. As long as she’d been in this business, she’d believed that she could no longer be shocked. “That woman is cold.”
She got up and went over to the bed where the case notes were spread across the top. It took her only a moment to find what she was looking for. “The fingerprints found on the birth control pill package on the floor were Humphrey’s.”
He turned to her. “She admitted that’s what they fought about. So maybe he didn’t threaten her with divorce and she saw only one way to have it all. You have to stop her. No matter what it takes. She can’t get away with this.”
She smiled at him. “Don’t worry. I’m working on it.” She told him about her visit to Shyla Birch’s house and meeting her unfriendly husband, the deputy, along with what she’d found in the garage.
Ford’s eyes widened in alarm. “Are you telling me the pickup that almost killed you was driven by a deputy?”
“Or his wife. Possibly. The problem is the grille guard on the front of the pickup. When I got back, I found the manufacturer. The company sold nine in this area. Nine. But I can tell you one thing. Rick Birch and his wife are both with the Sweet Grass County Volunteer Fire Department. I saw one of their jackets hanging by the door as I left—not that it narrows it down. A lot of locals are also volunteer firemen. So tell me what you know about Shyla.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “She was impulsive and a little wild, but I can’t imagine her trying to run you down.”
“I agree. Between the two? I would pick the husband.”
Ford let out a curse. “You think he’s Rachel’s accomplice?”
“I think it’s possible.” She told him the story Shyla had related to her about how they’d met and fallen in love. “She credits Rachel for getting them together.”
“You think Rachel knew him before then?”
Hitch shrugged. “I suspect he’s protective of Rachel. He wasn’t happy to see me with his wife. As I was leaving, I heard him demand to know what she said to me. He seems like the kind who went into law enforcement to bust heads. If he bought into Rachel’s story about her husband, he might have seen helping her as a way to right a wrong. Or he could just be sleeping with her and agreed to do whatever she asked him to.”
“He’s married to Shyla.”
Hitch rolled her eyes. “Right, Rachel’s so-called best friend. You really think that would stop him?”
Ford shook his head. “How are you going to prove it one way or the other?”
“I wish I knew. The fact that he’s a deputy makes it harder.”
“But if you told the sheriff about the truck that tried to run you down...”
She saw realization sink in before he could finish. “Exactly. My word against his deputy. In the first place, I can’t prove it was even him, let alone that he was trying to kill me. Nor did I get a license plate number. Just a metal guard like at least eight others like it around... So even if I could put his pickup on that street that night definitively, he could s
ay that he never saw me. It is a very dark street.”
“What are you going to do?” he asked, his voice softening as he looked at her.
She shook her head. “I’m just glad that you’re all right.”
“I’m sorry it didn’t work. Rachel’s too smart for me.”
Hitch laughed. “She’s not too smart for either of us and she’s going to prove it. She has to be rattled right now. I would think she’ll be contacting her accomplice.”
“Another night on the mountain?”
“Not this time,” Hitch said. “I have her phone tapped. We should be hearing something soon.”
He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “What should we do in the meantime?”
* * *
RACHEL HAD STORMED around her house after Ford left. Who did he think he was? That he’d come out to her house to try to get her to admit to something she hadn’t done? What kind of friend was that?
She stopped to stare at the wall, still red from her wine, the broken glass twinkling on the carpet, and she felt all the anger rush from her. Stumbling back to the couch, she looked for her phone until she realized she’d put it in her pocket earlier. Frowning, she glanced at the coffee table. The magazines were no longer neatly displayed, but they had been before Ford arrived. So how could her phone have gotten under one of them?
It couldn’t have.
She felt an icy chill run like spider legs down her spine and shuddered. He’d had her phone. She opened it. A photo came up of her on the bed and she dropped to the edge of the couch. With trembling fingers, she placed the call.
“Rachel, what’s wrong?” Shyla said when she answered and heard her crying. “Do you want me to come out there?”
“No,” Rachel said quickly. “It’s... Ford was here earlier. He said some awful things to me.”
“Like what? Rachel? Did I lose you? Are you still there?”
“It’s my new cell phone. I don’t know what’s wrong with it. The battery keeps running down. I’m plugging it in. Just a minute.”
“Rach,” Shyla said when she came back on. “Rick is standing here. He wants to talk to you.”
“Did I hear you’re having trouble with your new cell phone?”
“I can’t seem to keep it charged.”
Rick let out a curse. “Rachel, they’ve got your phone tapped. The taps run down the batteries. Have you seen any apps that have suddenly appeared that aren’t yours?”
She gritted her teeth and tried not to snarl. “I’ve had a little too much on my mind to be checking my apps.”
“What about any weird text messages?”
Rachel opened her mouth to snap at him but closed it. “I got something about winning a prize that I had to redeem.”
He swore. “Is your phone warmer than your old one? They often overheat if someone is using GPS to track your phone.” She said it was. “Which means they’re not just tapping into your calls—they’re tracking you.”
Rachel felt her skin grow clammy and cold. “What can I do?”
“Get rid of any apps you don’t recognize, then update your phone and don’t use it.”
“And how am I supposed to hear from you?” she cried.
“I’ll get you a burner. I’ll have Shyla bring it out. But you have to quit running scared and acting like you’re guilty. Remember, you’re the victim here. Humphrey would have killed you.”
She nodded as she looked at the wine staining her wall. “Rick, I’m scared.”
“Don’t be. You did what you had to do. They’re just trying to rattle you. Shyla wants to talk to you.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come out there?” her friend asked.
“No,” Rachel said, looking at her phone where she’d plugged it in. “I’m fine. I’m going straight to bed. I think I just need a good night’s sleep.” She disconnected, and picking up Ford’s beer where he’d left it, she walked into the kitchen and poured it down the drain.
For a moment, she stood at the sink staring out into the darkness before she walked down to her bedroom and began to pull out her luggage.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“So you’re really going,” Hitch said the next morning when she woke up next to Ford. She’d been encouraging him to go for days. She’d seen the change in him, though, last night. He was finally free of Rachel Westlake Collinwood. She wished she was.
Last night after their lovemaking, Ford opened up to her. They’d shared stories, confided hopes and dreams and fears. Then they’d made love again and held each other like two lost souls caught in a storm.
“I need to go back and figure out what I’m going to do for a living,” he said. “But I’m only a phone call away.” He smiled at her and she felt the heat of it race through her veins. Last night had been amazing. Ford was a tender, thoughtful lover who took it slow—the first time. She smiled to herself, remembering the passion of the second time. Her cheeks heated at the memory.
“I’ll miss you,” she said, snuggling against him.
“No, you won’t. You’ll be too busy getting to the truth.”
“I wish, but the forty-eight hours the governor gave me is almost up. On top of that, the sheriff told the governor about us. Not that I care,” she was quick to add. “It just...”
“Complicates things. Another reason I need to leave.”
Unfortunately, she had to agree, especially after what Ford had told her about Rachel trying to drug him. “This investigation has to break soon.”
He laughed. “You’d know better than me, but I sure hope so.”
“I have just a little more time before I have to put this one behind me. But just the thought of turning it over to the sheriff... As if he’s going to continue gathering evidence between now and the trial. If there even is a trial.” She shook her head. “So basically, nothing will be done, and Rachel will either get off entirely or receive a light sentence. There’s nothing I can do about it.”
Ford pulled her closer. “You still have a little time.”
She chuckled. “At this point, I could have a month and I’m not sure I’d know exactly what happened on that ranch that day. And the worst part is that if I’m right that is exactly what Rachel is counting on.”
He kissed her passionately before he let her go. “I’ll call when I get back to Big Sky. Once you wrap it up—”
“The governor said there’s another case waiting for me. But don’t worry. I’ll find a way to see you.” Because she couldn’t bear the thought of being away from him very long.
He pulled her closer. “I can’t wait for you to meet my family.”
She felt at a loss for words, wanting to tell him how she felt, but knowing that the timing was wrong. “We’ll talk soon.”
* * *
FORD KNEW IT was time to go home. He could tell during his father’s last call that he was getting worried. It was Rachel. Jackson worried that he was too involved in this case—if not involved with Rachel herself.
Mostly, Ford knew he had to let Hitch do what she did so well and quit distracting her. She couldn’t do her job if she was worried about him. He’d played amateur detective, and if he hadn’t seen whatever Rachel had put in his beer, he would be buried now in the garden on the ranch.
He was on the edge of Big Timber leaving town when his cell phone rang. He saw it was Rachel calling and almost didn’t take it. “Rachel?” For a moment, he didn’t hear anything but crying. Then he heard the words that had him hitting his brakes and pulling to the side of the road.
“You’re right about me. I don’t deserve to live,” Rachel said, her words slurred as if she were drunk. Drunk? Or drugged?
“What’s going on?” he asked, his pulse jumping at her words.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she said. “I should have told you everything last night. I should have... I can�
�t live with myself...” She began to sob again.
“Have you taken something, Rachel?” He heard her drop the phone, the rest of her words inaudible.
Swearing, he quickly turned around and headed toward the ranch. He debated calling 911 for an ambulance, but he was already on his way and would be there in a matter of minutes at this speed. Maybe she was just drunk. But if she’d taken something... He thought of that time in college when she and Humphrey had a fight and she’d taken a bottle of pills. Ford and Humphrey had walked her for hours until she came out of it.
He was just north of town near the creek when he caught lights in his rearview mirror. A highway patrol cruiser came racing up behind him, siren blaring, lights flashing. Ford swore but pulled over, planning to tell the officer why he’d been speeding and ask for his help. Rachel would hate that he brought the cops into it, but he had no choice now. He reminded himself that this was the woman who’d planned to drug him just last night. Still, he didn’t want her overdose death on his conscience. Nor did he want Hitch’s case to end like this.
When he started to pull over, the cruiser drew up beside him. The officer behind the wheel motioned for him to pull off the road onto a side road. He did as ordered, anxious to talk to the cop. He could feel the clock ticking and thought about calling 911 but knew it would take too much explanation. Pulling out his phone, he quickly called Hitch, but before he could speak, the officer tapped on his window.
Ford whirred down his window. “Officer, I know I was speeding,” he said to the sandy-haired young cop. He saw that he was a deputy sheriff—not highway patrol as he’d first thought. “I just got a call—”
“Please get out of your vehicle.”
“What? No, you don’t understand.” His pulse jumped. Something was wrong. His gaze went to the man’s hands resting on the edge of the open window. A large ring on the officer’s right hand caught his eye. Something about the design... He heard Hitch’s voice far away and realized that she was still on the phone. “Officer, Rachel Collinwood called. I was on my way there before you pulled me over here by the creek—”
