by B. J Daniels
As she stepped from her patrol SUV, Marshall Chisholm came out onto the porch. He looked wary. Like all the Chisholm men, he was handsome and exuded confidence. Three of the Chisholm brothers had the coal-black hair and eyes that reflected their Native American ancestry. The other three were blond with blue eyes.
“I’m here about Emma.”
“You found her?” Marshall had the mocha coloring, the dark hair and eyes and high cheekbones. There was a gentleness about him that belied his powerful size.
“No, I’m sorry. I take it you haven’t heard from her?” McCall said.
He shook his head.
“She sent me a letter. Would you mind if I came inside?”
“You might as well,” Marshall said. “My brothers are going to want to hear this.”
Three of his brothers were sitting around the kitchen table when she walked in but they rose at the sight of her, all looking wary and worried. Colton and Logan were two of the fraternal triplets, both blond and blue-eyed and just as handsome as the others.
“Is this about Dad?” Colton asked. He’d recently become engaged to one of McCall’s deputies, Halley Robinson.
“It’s sheriff department business.” McCall put a finger to her lips and stepped around the table to look up. The small smoke alarm was right where Emma had said it would be. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak with all of you outside. I have something in my patrol car I need to show you.”
They looked surprised but followed her out of the house. Once they were standing next to her SUV, McCall said, “Where’s Zane and Dawson?” Zane was the third of the triplets.
“Dawson’s up checking the cattle on summer range,” Marshall said. Dawson was the older brother of Marshall and Tanner.
“Zane’s gone to find Emma,” Logan said. Unlike his brothers, he wore his blond hair long and was the rebel of the family, spending his off time not on horseback but on a motorcycle. “What’s going on?”
“Emma left me a message at my office yesterday. She said that your house is bugged with listening devices.”
“That’s crazy,” Marshall said.
“Maybe not,” the sheriff said. “She told me what to look for. Did any of you put up that small smoke alarm hidden on the other side of your kitchen light?”
They all looked at one another. Logan spoke first. “I’ve never even noticed it before I saw you looking at it. Why would we put it there when Dad installed new smoke alarms last year all through the house in plain sight?”
“Emma believed that Aggie Wells isn’t just alive, but that she’s been in your house,” McCall said. “That she’s been eavesdropping on everything that is being said there.”
“Are you telling us you agree with Dad, that Aggie Wells might have done something to Emma?” Colton asked as if seeing where this was going.
“I don’t know what to believe at this point. But if Emma is right and Aggie Wells is alive and those smoke alarms in there are really listening devices... I know that’s a lot of ifs, but that smoke alarm looks like one of the new high-tech listening devices any fool can buy off the internet.”
“Well, we’re about to find out,” Marshall said, turning back toward the house.
McCall caught his arm to stop him. “Wait, if Aggie is listening in on your conversations, what has she heard? Did you mention that Zane had gone to look for Emma?”
Marshall swore.
“We’ve been staying here at the house, so I would imagine she’s heard everything that was said,” Colton said. “Including that Zane has gone to Denver to try to find out anything he can about Emma.”
The brothers looked as worried as McCall felt.
“These listening devices,” Colton said. “Doesn’t she have to be nearby with some sort of transmitter?”
McCall shook her head. “The new ones can be accessed through a cell phone or computer. Aggie doesn’t even have to be in the area. But I do have an idea. There might be a way to make sure Emma was right about this. We need to disable the one in the kitchen, but we have to make it look like an accident.”
“Are you suggesting a little roughhousing between brothers?” Marshall asked.
“Or a knock-down, drag-out fight,” McCall said. “Think you can do that?”
They laughed at that. “Not that any of us ever fight. Then what?” Colton asked.
“If you all do most of your talking in the kitchen in the morning, if it is a listening device and if Aggie is alive and listening, then she’s going to want to come and fix it. You’ll just have to make sure she knows when all of you will be out of the house for a length of time. Emma said she found several other small smoke alarms in the house.” She told them the locations.
“So she can still hear us if we’re in the house,” Colton said with a nod.
“Do you think she’s hurt Emma?” Logan asked, sounding upset.
McCall hoped not. “If Aggie staged her own disappearance hoping to make Hoyt look guilty of her murder, then with Hoyt in jail, I believe she won’t hurt Emma. Once he’s out...”
“If she wants to frame him for Emma’s murder, he has to be out of jail,” Logan agreed.
“But Dad is trying to make bail. He’s desperate to find Emma,” Marshall said. “His new lawyer thinks he might be able to get him out by the weekend. He’s pulling every string possible, including going to the governor.”
“I doubt telling our father what’s going on would make him slow down that process,” Marshall said. “If anything, he will try to get out sooner.”
“So we don’t tell him,” Logan said.
“If you’re right, then Aggie is going to be curious about what you showed us in your patrol car,” Colton said. “Is it anything we might want to argue about?”
The sheriff smiled. “More evidence against your father and a warning for you Chisholms not to interfere in my investigation. Is that sufficient?”
“Hell, we’ve never needed a reason to fight,” Logan said. “You have to find Emma. If something happens to her...”
“Let’s see if we can’t draw out whoever installed these smoke alarms and start from there,” McCall said. “That’s if the smoke alarm is a high-tech listening device. I don’t need to tell you that looking for Emma if Aggie has her in this part of Montana would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. My deputies are already looking for Aggie. Once you have the smoke alarm disabled, bring it to me. If it is a listening device, then we’ll set the trap and see what falls into it.”
* * *
Early-morning mist hung in the air as Dawson rode over the rise after Jinx. The minute he topped the hill, he saw the corral below bathed in the faint light of dawn and heard the bawling cattle and knew what the rustlers had done.
The rustlers had felt pressured and had been forced to leave some of the calves behind that couldn’t go any farther.
Dawson had his rifle drawn, ready for the rustlers to show. But nothing but the calves in the corral moved in the abandoned ranch yard. No guard. The rustlers had been expecting trouble. Only the corrals still stood, the house nothing more than a decaying foundation of charred small stones and mortar after an apparent fire.
There was a chill in the air, a dampness from the morning dew that glistened on the grass. The calves bawled loudly as he and Jinx rode in. Dawson cursed the rustlers as he reined in.
Jinx had stopped a few yards from the corral and now sat looking despondent. Like him, she had to realize that her boyfriend Rafe was more than a little suspicious of her. The rustlers must have moved the cattle farther east, closer to where the semitrailers would be picking them up for quick sale to some crooked cattle buyer.
He swung down off his horse and walked over to untie her hands. As she took off the bandanna gag, even in the dim light, he saw her defeat.
“How far is it to the next corral they planned to use?” he as
ked. “I’ll herd these cattle down to it today.” It would be slower going, but he didn’t want to leave them here.
As he started over to open the gate, she said, “They’ll be expecting you to do that.”
“I know,” he said without turning around. “But I can’t leave these calves here like this.”
Dawson turned to look at her. She wanted to go after the rustlers, catch up with them. She didn’t want to herd a bunch of calves down to the next corral.
“I can’t stop you from leaving,” he said, meeting her gaze. “It would probably be better that way. If they catch you riding with me...”
He could see from her expression that his offer had taken her by surprise. She actually looked at a loss for words. He wasn’t just offering to let her go. He’d just told her he trusted her.
You’re a damned fool.
Probably, he admitted. She could ride out, warn the rustlers and they would get away with as many cattle as they could herd to the truck. But if she had any chance of survival, given her determination to bring down this rustling ring, then she had to get as far away from him as possible.
He waited for her to overcome her initial surprise and take off like a shot.
But she surprised him.
“I’ll ride with you as far as the next corral,” Jinx said as she swung down from her horse and, taking off her straw hat, slipped through the corral fence to wave it in the air. The calves began to move toward the open gate.
She was going to help him move the calves down to their mothers? Didn’t she realize how dangerous that was going to be if the rustlers were waiting in ambush?
He felt a hitch in his chest. As much as she wanted justice, she couldn’t chance that Rafe would send a couple of his men back up this way to check out whatever story she came up with. She was worried about saving him.
The last thing Dawson wanted was that. The woman was neck deep in a rustling ring. Whatever her good intentions, he suspected she’d been the one to target his ranch. Jinx was far from an innocent in all this and it aggravated him that he’d let her get to him.
“You sure about this?” he said as she turned away from him.
She let out a laugh as she swung up into her saddle and began to move the cattle east toward the rising sun. “I’m sure I’m a damned fool.”
He knew the feeling. As he spurred his horse and they began to move the calves down the mountain in search of their mothers, he reminded himself that he hadn’t changed Jinx’s mind about going after the leader of the rustlers. He’d only postponed the inevitable.
He supposed he should be glad of that. Did he really think it possible to get her to come to her senses?
As they began to move the calves toward the next abandoned corral and hopefully their anxious mothers, he couldn’t help watching Jinx. She was as good in the saddle rounding up cows as any cattleman he’d known.
He reminded himself that once they reached the next corral she’d be riding off into the sunset and not even looking back. She was a woman on a quest and a man didn’t want to get in the way of a woman like that.
Keep your distance from this woman.
But the warning fell on deaf ears.
As they topped a rise, he looked out across the wild country. He knew the next corral wasn’t far, from what Jinx had told him. Up here in this part of Montana there were a lot of abandoned old ranch places. It was big country, inhospitable a large part of the year with blizzards, howling wind that brought in dangerous storms and below-zero temperatures in the winter, and blazing heat, mosquitoes the size of bats and stunning sunsets all the other months.
The hardest part for some was the loneliness. Ranches were few and far between, the sky up here vast, the land seeming to go on forever without another living soul for miles. It took a special kind of person to appreciate it.
Dawson thought of Emma and his dad and felt a heart-wrenching ache. He’d actually thought his father had finally found the perfect wife for him.
As he looked over at Jinx, he saw that she had reined in and was looking out across the country with a kind of awe. She had removed her straw hat to catch some of the breeze that ruffled her blond hair. Her face was lightly tanned, her eyes the same blue as the big sky that spread out before them.
As hard as he tried not to, he lost a little piece of his heart.
Chapter 7
Aggie returned with paper and pen—and of course a gun. She dropped the paper and pen onto the mattress and leaned against the wall, the gun in her hand.
While Aggie had been gone, Emma had used the buckets in the closet. Just washing her face and cleaning up a little made her feel stronger.
“I’m going to need some fresh clothing,” Emma said from where she’d been standing and peering out a space between the boarded-up window. “I assume you removed my clothing from the house and still have it.”
She’d realized that if Aggie had gotten rid of her belongings, then she wasn’t planning on letting Emma live.
Aggie studied her for a moment without answering, making Emma’s heart pound. Was she upset that Emma had asked for a change of clothing? Or did she realize as Emma did, that if she admitted to getting rid of Emma’s things, then they would both know what her plans were?
Emma so far had been the perfect prisoner, not asking for anything, not trying to escape. She’d thought it better to bide her time.
But she needed fresh clothing and she was tired of pretending to be the perfect prisoner. However this ended, Emma wasn’t about to go down in a cowardly fashion if she could help it.
“Write the letter and I’ll get you some of your clothes,” Aggie said.
Emma glanced toward the paper and pen on the mattress, relieved to hear that Aggie hadn’t gotten rid of her things. That had to mean something.
Unless the woman was lying. That was always a possibility.
But Emma had little choice but to go along. “You left a note at the house.” She shifted her gaze to Aggie. “I don’t remember writing it.”
“You didn’t. I did.”
She cocked a brow. “Aren’t you afraid someone will check the handwriting and realize it isn’t mine?”
Aggie laughed. “How long have you been in that house? Two months? I really doubt any of your stepsons would know your handwriting. Anyway, the note I left for you at the house was sloppy, hurried as if you were upset. I also made it short and sweet. Now, quit stalling.”
Emma walked over to the mattress, sat down on the edge and picked up the paper and pen.
“Here, you can use the tray to write on,” Aggie said, sliding it over to her with her foot. “Start by apologizing for running out on Hoyt.” She smiled. “That is what you would do, isn’t it? Then tell them you are afraid for your life.”
At least that part Emma would write honestly.
“Now write, ‘I’m having a friend drop this off at the house.’” She lifted a brow. “You can’t really say that Aggie will be dropping it off when no one is home, now, can you?”
So that was how she planned to get the letter to Chisholm Cattle Company quickly. Emma felt better already. Aggie didn’t have an accomplice. She was all alone in this. That definitely narrowed the odds—even with Aggie holding the gun.
* * *
“Emma was delightful,” the fiftysomething male supervisor at the hotel told Zane when they met that morning. “I hated to lose her. Everyone liked her.”
“That’s what I’ve heard. I need to find her.” He filled the man in on what he knew so far about Emma’s disappearance, including the fact that she might be in danger, something he thought very likely after his conversation with his brother Marshall first thing this morning.
He still couldn’t believe that the house had apparently been bugged and that even the sheriff was beginning to consider that Aggie Wells wasn’t just alive, but that she might have faked
her disappearance and taken Emma.
“Did she ever mention family?” he asked the supervisor.
The man shook his head, visibly upset by the news about Emma. “She had a father out in California. I believe they were close, but other than that...”
“Did she mention his name?”
“Sorry. Emma wasn’t one to talk about herself.”
“She didn’t get any mail here?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Do you know where she lived?” Zane asked.
“She had an apartment just down the street from here.”
Zane glanced toward the front door and the street beyond it. “This is a pretty pricey neighborhood.”
“I got the feeling she was careful with her money.”
Was it possible she’d come from money? Or married it? Or was just careful with what she made?
She could have been divorced or widowed. Zane swore under his breath; there was no way of knowing. When he’d gone on the internet, he hadn’t been able to find an Emma McDougal that matched her age.
“She was like family here at the hotel,” the supervisor said.
And if she really had left on her own accord, she would have come back here, Zane thought. Clearly she could have gotten her old job back.
Letters. He thought of the note Emma had allegedly left. After talking to his brother Marshall this morning, he realized there was a chance she either hadn’t left it or had been forced to write it.
“You wouldn’t happen to still have anything that Emma had written?” he asked. “She left a note, but we suspect it wasn’t her handwriting.”
“As a matter of fact, I have her employment application. We keep those on file for five years.” He went into the office and returned a moment later with a copy for Zane. “You don’t see penmanship like this anymore. These kids and their texting—their handwriting is atrocious. I could show you applications that are barely legible.”
