by B. J Daniels
But before she could stop him, he said, “She tried to kill me.”
Mary gasped. “You can’t be serious.”
“She knew I was leaving. She said she wanted to give me a hug goodbye, but when she started to put her arms around me, I saw the knife she’d pulled from her pocket. I would have gotten to Montana weeks sooner, but she sabotaged my pickup. I had to have a new engine put in it.” He shook his head. “What I’m saying is that I wouldn’t put anything past her. She supposedly drowned in the Colorado River after driving her car into it. But her body was never found.”
Mary couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Lucy doesn’t look anything like her except...” He glanced up at her and must have seen the shock and disbelief in her eyes. Couldn’t he tell that she didn’t want to know anything more about Fiona?
She shook her head, wished this wasn’t making her so upset. He’d said Fiona was obsessed with him? It sounded like he was just as obsessed. “This woman really did a number on you, didn’t she?”
He held up both hands in surrender. “Sorry. I thought you should know.”
About a woman he’d made love to who was now dead? But certainly not forgotten. Even Lucy reminded him of her even though, as he said, she looked nothing like Fiona? Her heart pounded hard in her chest. She pushed her coffee away, feeling nauseous. “We should get going. I need to come back and work.”
He nodded. She could tell that he regretted bringing up the subject. So why had he? She never wanted to hear the name Fiona again. Ever.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. Forget I mentioned it. I promise not to say another word about her.”
But she saw him steal a look toward the coffee shop as they were leaving. He might not mention Fiona’s name again, but he was definitely still thinking about her.
Chapter 15
With Mary’s mother’s help, Chase had narrowed down their search to three local men—Jack Martin, Jason Morrison and Jonathan Mason. Dana had helped him weed out the ones that she knew were too young, too old or hadn’t been around at the time.
His mother had been eighteen when she’d given birth to him. If her lover had been older, say twenty-five or thirty as Chase suspected, then his father would now be in his fifties.
Jack Martin owned a variety of businesses in Big Sky, including the art shop where his wife sold her pottery. A bell tinkled over the door as Mary and Chase entered. A woman passed them holding a large box as if what was inside was breakable. Chase held the door for her, before he and Mary moved deeper in the shop.
The place smelled of mulberry candles, a sickeningly sweet fragrance that Mary had never liked. She tried not to breathe too deeply as they moved past displays of pottery toward the back counter.
Jack had begun helping out at the shop during the busiest time, summer, Mary knew. She spotted his gray head coming out of the back with a large pottery bowl, which he set on an open space on a display table. There was a young woman showing several ladies a set of pottery dishes in an adjoining room, and several visitors were looking at pottery lamps at the front of the shop.
As Mary approached, Jack turned and smiled broadly. “Afternoon, is there something I can help you with?”
Mary knew Jack from chamber of commerce meetings, but it took him a second before he said, “Mary Savage. I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you right away.”
“This is my friend Chase Steele.” She watched for a reaction. For all they knew, Chase’s father could have kept track of his son all these years. But she saw no reaction. “Is there a private area where we could speak with you for a moment?”
Jack frowned, but nodded. “We could step into the back.” He glanced around to see if there were customers who needed to be waited on. There didn’t appear to be for the moment.
“We won’t take much of your time,” she promised.
Chase tensed next to her as if to say, if Jack Martin was his father, he’d damned sure take as much of his time as he wanted.
Mary was glad that she’d come along. She knew how important this was, and could feel how nervous Chase had become the moment they stepped into the shop.
In the back it was cool and smelled less like the burning candles. “Did you know a woman named Muriel Steele?” Chase asked the moment they reached a back storage and work area.
Jack blinked in surprised. “Who?”
“Muriel Steele,” Mary said with less accusation. “It would have been close to thirty years ago.”
Jack looked taken aback. “You expect me to remember that long ago? Who was this woman?”
“One you had an affair with,” Chase said, making her cringe. She’d hoped he would let her handle this since he was too emotionally involved.
“That I would remember,” the man snapped. “I was married to Clara thirty years ago. We just celebrated our fortieth anniversary.” Jack was shaking his head. “I’m not sure what this is about or what this Muriel woman told you, but I have never cheated on my wife.”
Mary believed him. She looked to Chase, whom she could tell wasn’t quite as convinced.
“Would you be willing to take a DNA test to prove it?” Chase demanded.
“A DNA test? How would that prove...” Realization crossed his face. “I see.” His gaze softened. “I’m sorry young man, but I’m not related to you.”
“But you’d take the test,” Chase pressed.
Jack grew quiet for a moment, his expression sad. “If it would help you, yes, I would.”
Mary saw all the tension leave Chase’s body. He looked as if the strain had left him exhausted.
“Thank you,” Mary said as she heard more customers coming into the shop. “We won’t keep you any longer.”
* * *
“It’s not him,” Chase said as he climbed behind the wheel and started the pickup’s engine. A floodgate of emotions warred inside him. He wasn’t sure what he’d hoped for. That he could find his father that quickly and it would be over? He’d wanted to hate the man. Worse, he’d wanted to punch him. But when realization had struck Jack Martin, Chase had seen the pity in the man’s eyes.
“No, it wasn’t Jack,” she said. “Are you up to visiting the rest of them?”
He pulled off his Stetson and raked a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure I can do this. I thought I could but...” He glanced over at her.
“It’s all right.”
He shook his head. For a moment, they merely sat there, each lost in their own thoughts. Then Chase smiled over at her. “Could we drive up to Mountain Village and have an early lunch and forget all this for a while? Then I promise to take you back to work. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this.”
She reached over and placed a hand on his arm. He felt the heat of her fingers through his Western shirt. They warmed him straight to his heart and lower. What he wanted was this woman in his arms, in his bed, in his life. He felt as if he had made so many mistakes and was still making them.
“My stomach is still a little upset. I was really sick last night.” He looked at her with concern. “I’m sure it was just some twenty-four-hour flu,” she said quickly.
“I hope that’s all it was,” he said. “I was really careful with our picnic lunch.”
“And you didn’t get sick, so like I said, probably just a flu bug.” He must not have looked convinced. “I was just going to eat some yogurt for lunch. Maybe some other time?”
He studied her for a moment, so filled with love for this woman. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”
She laughed at that, and took her hand from his arm.
“Is it any wonder that I haven’t been able to stop loving you?” he asked.
Their gazes met across the narrow space between them. He could feel the heat, the chemistry. He reached over and cupped the back of her neck, pulling her into the kiss. He heard her breath cat
ch. His pulse quickened. A shaft of desire cut through him, molten hot.
Mary leaned into him and the kiss. It felt like coming home. Chase had always been a great kisser.
As he drew back, he looked into her eyes as if the kiss had also transported him back to when they were lovers.
“You’re just full of surprises today, aren’t you,” she said, smiling at him as she tried to catch her breath. She loved seeing Chase like this, relaxed, content, happy, a man who knew who he was and what he wanted.
The cowboy who’d left her and Montana had been antsy, filled with a need she couldn’t understand. Just like he’d been only minutes ago when they’d gone looking for his father.
He needed to find him. She would help him. And then what?
“You have work to do, and I’m keeping you from it,” he said. “We can have lunch another day when you feel better and aren’t as busy. I’ve already taken up too much of your morning.”
She shook her head as she met his gaze. “If I didn’t have this report due—”
“You don’t have to explain. You took off this morning to help me. I appreciate that.” His smile filled her with joy as much as his words. “We have a lot of lunches in our future. I hope you know how serious I am about us, about our future. I’ll do whatever it takes because I know you, Mary Savage. I know your heart.”
She felt her eyes burn with tears at the truth in his words. “Tomorrow. Let’s go talk to the other two men tomorrow morning.”
“Are you sure?” Chase asked. “I don’t like keeping you from your work.”
She managed to nod. “I’m sure.” Swallowing the lump in her throat, she reached to open her door. If she stayed out here with him a minute longer, she feared what she might say. Worse, what she might do. It would have been too easy to fall into his arms and take up where they’d left off and forget all about the report that was due.
But she climbed out of the pickup, knowing it was too soon. She had to know for sure that Chase wouldn’t hurt her again. Her heart couldn’t take being broken by him again.
* * *
As Chase was leaving, he glanced toward the coffee shop. Was Lucy working? He swung his pickup around and parked in front of Lone Peak Perk. Getting out, he told himself to play it cool. He had to see her again. He had to know. But just the thought that he might be right...
As he walked in, Lucy looked up. Surprise registered in those dark eyes. Nothing like Fiona’s big blue ones. Still, he walked to the counter. She looked nervous. “Is it possible to get a cup of coffee in a real cup?” he asked. “Just black.”
She looked less nervous, but that too could have been his imagination. He wondered what he’d been thinking. The woman looked nothing like Fiona and yet... She was much skinnier, the gapped two front teeth, the short dark hair, the brown eyes. What was it about her that reminded him of Fiona? Mary was right. He was obsessed with the disturbed, irrational woman.
Lucy picked up a white porcelain coffee cup and took her time filling it with black coffee. “Can I get you anything else?” she said with that slight lisp, slight Southern accent. Nothing like Fiona. She flashed him a smile, clearly flirting.
He grinned. “Maybe later.” He took the coffee cup by the handle over to an empty spot near the door. Sitting with his back to her, he took a sip. Coffee was the last thing he wanted right now. But he drank it as quickly as the hot beverage allowed.
Taking advantage of a rush of people coming in for their afternoon caffeine fix, he carefully slipped the now empty cup under his jacket and walked out. He’d expected to be stopped, but neither Lucy or the other barista noticed. When he reached his pickup, he carefully set the cup on the center console and headed to the marshal’s office.
He would get Hud to run the prints because he had to know what it was about the woman that turned his stomach, and left him feeling like something evil had come to Big Sky.
* * *
Lucy couldn’t believe that Chase had come back into the coffee shop. She smiled to herself as she whipped up one of the shop’s special coffees for a good-tipping patron. As she finished the drink, she turned expecting to see Chase’s strong back at the corner table. To her surprise, he’d left during the rush. He’d certainly finished his coffee quickly enough. She frowned as concern slithered slowly through her.
It took her a moment to realize why the hair was now standing up on the back of her neck. The table where Chase had been sitting. His empty porcelain cup wasn’t where he should have left it.
She hurriedly glanced around, thinking he must have brought it back to the counter. Otherwise...
Her heart kicked up to double time. Otherwise... He wouldn’t have tossed the cup in the trash and she could see from here that he hadn’t put it in the tray with the few other dishes by the door.
Which left only one conclusion.
He’d taken the cup.
Why would he—
The reason struck her hard and fast. He had recognized her. Warring emotions washed over her. Of course he’d sensed her behind the disguise. She hadn’t been wrong about that. It was that unique chemistry that they shared. But at the same time, fear numbed her, left her dumbstruck. She could hear the patron asking her a question, but nothing was registering.
Chase would go to the marshal, Mary’s father, have him run the prints. Once that happened... She told herself that there was time. And, there was Deputy Dillon Ramsey.
“Miss! I need a receipt, please.”
Lucy shook her head and smiled. “Sorry,” she said to the woman, printed out the receipt and handed it to her. “You have a nice day now.”
* * *
After his initial surprise at seeing the cowboy, Hud waved Chase into a chair across from his desk. As the young man came in, he carefully set a white porcelain coffee cup on the edge of the desk. Hud eyed it, then Chase.
“I need you to run the fingerprints on this cup.”
The marshal lifted a brow. “For any particular reason?”
“I really don’t want to get into it. I’m hoping I’m wrong.”
Hud leaned back in his chair. “That’s not enough reason to waste the county’s time running fingerprints.”
“If I’m right, this person could be a danger to Mary. Isn’t that enough?”
Rubbing his jaw, he studied the cowboy. “You do understand that unless this person has fingerprints on file—”
“They’ll be on file if I’m right.”
Intrigued, Hud sighed and said, “Okay. I’ll let you know, but it might take a few days.”
A deputy was walking past. Hud called to him as he bagged the cup Chase had brought in. “Dillon, run the fingerprints on this cup when you have a minute. Report back to me.”
* * *
“We’re still on for tonight, right?” Lucy asked when Dillon called. The last thing she wanted him to do was cancel.
“You know it.”
“Then I have a small favor,” she said. “It’s one that only you can grant.” She could almost hear the man’s chest puff out. “And I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Really?” He sounded intrigued. She reminded herself that he was only doing this to get back at Mary. The thought did nothing for her disposition, but she kept the contempt out of her voice. She needed his help.
“Really. But then maybe you don’t have access to what I need down there at the marshal’s office.”
“Name it. I have the run of the place.”
“I believe Chase Steele might have brought in a cup and asked that fingerprints be run on it?”
Dillon chuckled. “The marshal asked me to do it when I had time and report back to him.”
“Have you had time?” she asked, her heart in her throat.
“I like to do whatever the marshal asks right away.”
She closed her eyes and tried to breathe. Her prints
were on file. Chase must have suspected as much.
“I haven’t seen him though to give him the report.”
Lucy took a breath and let it out slowly. “Is there any way that the report could get lost?”
He snickered. “Now you’ve got me curious. Why would you care about prints run on a Fiona Barkley?”
So her prints had come back that quickly? “If that report gets lost, I’d be happy to tell you when I see you. Like I said, I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Are we talking money?” he asked quietly. “Or something else?”
“Or both,” she said, her heart pounding. “I can be quite...creative.”
He laughed. “What time shall I pick you up?”
“I have a better idea. Why don’t I meet you later tonight after I get off my shift? I know just the spot.” She told him how to get to the secluded area up in the mountains. She’d spent her free time checking out places for when it came time to end this little charade.
Dillon thought he was going to get lucky—and use her to bring Mary into line. She’d known men like him. He would blackmail her into the next century if she let him.
“I have to work late. Is midnight too late for you?” she asked sweetly.
“Midnight is perfect. I can’t wait.”
“Me either.” The deputy had no idea that he’d walked right into her plot, and now he had a leading role.
Chapter 16
Later that night, as Lucy prepared for her date with Dillon, she couldn’t help being excited. She’d spent too much time waiting around, not rushing her plan, being patient and pretending to be someone she wasn’t.
