by B. J Daniels
She gave him an impatient look. “Hopefully, you know me better than that. I’m onto something. One of Drew’s enemies is going to make a mistake. I must be getting close. These are the kinds of secrets that are bound to come out.”
“If we’re right, then the killer has gotten away with murder for five years.”
Chloe smiled. “Exactly. The person felt safe and now they don’t. The more I rattle their cage—”
Justin swore. “Then we’ll do it together.”
* * *
CHLOE LOOKED OVER at him in surprise as he turned down her street. Isn’t this what she’d hoped for? “What changed your mind? I thought you wanted nothing to do with this?”
“I don’t but I have no choice. I can’t have you doing this alone.”
She gave him a look that said she suspected there was more to his decision.
He sighed. “I paid my father a visit.”
She could tell by his expression but still she had to ask—“How did that go?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t realize how badly he needed to know the truth about that night. I guess I thought after all this time... But you’re right. I can’t have this hanging over my head or my father’s any longer.” He pulled up in front of her house and cut the engine.
“Why did your sisters call me?” Justin asked turning to her.
The sudden U-turn in the conversation took her by surprise. But it was the look in his blue eyes that froze her tongue. She swallowed, almost afraid to speak for fear of what might come out of her mouth. She’d wanted this, needed this. Her sisters were trying to give her what could have been. How did she explain that she’d lived all these years with a fantasy and all because of one winter kiss?
“They knew I liked you, you know—back before I left for college,” she said.
He met her gaze and held it. “So why didn’t you keep in touch? Or maybe even come back in the summer?”
She shook her head, hating to admit the truth for fear of just how silly this all was. One kiss. She’d lived off it all these years because it had been so perfect. Or at least in her memory. “I was afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“Afraid it wasn’t anything. That maybe I misread the kiss, that...” She shrugged as she looked into his handsome face. This cowboy had been in her dreams for years and now here he was in the flesh. Could real life live up to the fantasy Justin Calhoun? She thought it just might.
“Do you even remember the kiss?”
He held her gaze. “What do you think?”
She swallowed again and had to look away. “We were so young.”
“You think that makes a difference?”
“I don’t know.” She turned back to him. “What do you think?”
“That we might have to test it.”
His cell phone buzzed. He held up a finger and pulled out his phone. She saw his expression change before he disconnected. “My father’s in the hospital. I have to go. I’m sorry, but this discussion isn’t over.”
“I hope your father’s all right,” she said as she climbed out.
“I’ll call you.” And he was gone.
Chloe stood on the shoveled sidewalk watching his pickup take the corner and disappear. Her heart was pounding. She was still scared. The thought of kissing Justin again... What if they were both wrong and whatever they’d felt was no longer there?
It would be like learning there was no Santa Claus. Only worse, she thought as she noticed her sister’s SUV was gone. Also there were no lights on in the house. Both sisters were probably with their significant others.
Chloe hugged herself, not sure what to do next.
* * *
THE MOMENT JUSTIN walked into the hospital on the east end of the small Western town, he saw Nici. “I got your text. How is he?”
“The doctor was waiting to talk to you,” she said and gave him a hug. “When my sister called...” She pulled back to look at him. “I thought you’d want to know he’d been brought in.”
He’d forgotten that Nici’s older sister was a nurse’s aide. “Thanks.” They moved into the small waiting room, but he couldn’t sit down. He was too anxious. “This is all my fault. I went out to see him. I said some things...” He swore under his breath and couldn’t go on.
Nici placed a hand on his back. “This is not your fault. Your father hasn’t been well for years and we both know why.”
He turned to look at her. “Me.”
“Not you,” she said. “Drew.”
“I know that for my father losing Drew was even worse than losing my mother. But the fact that he thinks I killed my own brother...”
“He just wants someone to blame other than himself for the way Drew was and how it had ended.”
Justin knew that only too well. He kept seeing himself rushing into his brother’s cabin, reliving the shock of seeing his brother fumbling with the gun, his hands covered in blood. He’d thought Drew had shot himself and was trying to finish the job. Acting on instinct, he’d rushed him and taken the gun from his hands. Drew had been looking at him with so much fear in his gaze. Had he known he was dying? Or was he afraid that whoever had shot him would finish the job?
Justin had fumbled his phone from his pocket with his free hand, still holding that bloody damned gun. There hadn’t been a place to put it down since his brother had been sitting in the middle of the room in a chair as if watching the door...
His father had rushed in. Of course he’d thought what any sane person would have thought under the circumstances. That the man holding the gun was the killer.
“So you saw Chloe?” Nici asked as she plopped down in one of the waiting room chairs. “All that old chemistry still there?”
He looked at his friend, hearing the jealousy in her voice. But he was glad to talk about anything to keep his mind off Drew and his father lying in a hospital bed down the hall.
“Who are you dating now?” he asked, not about to talk to Nici about that kiss he and Chloe had shared.
She shook her head. “I’ll take that as a yes. You don’t remember telling me about the kiss, do you?” she laughed. “I’d never seen you looking so happy.”
“I shouldn’t have shared that with you, but you were my closest friend.”
Nici nodded and gave him a sad smile. “Still am.”
At a sound from the doorway, they both turned to see the doctor standing there. “Are you Mr. Calhoun’s son?”
Justin quickly stepped toward him. “How is my father?”
“It’s his heart,” the doctor said. “He’s stable now. If you want to see him—”
“No,” he said too quickly making the doctor lift a brow. He didn’t want to explain that he was the one responsible for his father’s heart attack. He was just relieved he hadn’t killed the man. “He should get some rest. I’ll see him later.”
Chapter Ten
Chloe was too antsy to hang out in the house alone. She couldn’t quit thinking about Justin and what she’d learned. But she also hadn’t forgotten the sound of that pickup’s motor revved up and right behind her. She promised herself she would be more careful as she headed for Pete Ferris’s house.
His wife, Emily, answered the door in an apron, her round face flushed. It surprised Chloe that she was nothing like the mayor’s ex-wife. For some reason, she thought they would be more alike. She was short, plump and pretty. Apparently Drew hadn’t had a type.
“Come in,” the woman said, wiping her hands on the apron. “I’m baking.” She turned on her heel. Chloe followed her through the living room to the large farmhouse-style kitchen.
“Help yourself,” Emily said, motioning to the cookies cooling on the breakfast bar. She picked up a hot pad, opened the oven and pulled out another large batch of cookies. Chloe raised a brow at the number of cookies the woman was baking. “I d
onate them to the senior center,” she said, seeing Chloe’s questioning look.
She put the pan down and turned off the oven, tossing the hot pad aside. “You must be Chloe Clementine. Pete told me you would be stopping by.” She didn’t sound upset as she wiped her brow with her blouse sleeve.
“Then he told you I’m trying to find out who killed Drew. Forgive me but you don’t seem the type who would fall for a man like Drew.”
“Who says I fell for him?” She picked up a cookie and took a bite. She seemed to be judging the cookie. It appeared to have passed her taste test.
“Something was going on with you and Drew.”
Emily laughed. “I didn’t sleep with Drew.”
Chloe lifted a brow. “Is that really what your husband believes?”
“My husband caught Drew over here a few times. He just assumed and so did everyone else, I guess.” She shrugged. “That’s their problem.”
Confused, she asked, “I’m trying to find out more about Drew and what was going on with him so I have some idea who might have wanted him dead.”
Emily seemed to consider this. “I’m not sure who you’ve talked to, but I suspect you’ve heard disturbing things about Drew. That wasn’t the man I knew.”
“If you weren’t sleeping with him...”
“Don’t get me wrong. He came on to me at first. I might not look like his other women, but Drew wasn’t choosy. I turned him down flat and offered him a cookie.”
“And he was fine with that.”
“Actually no, he said he could do better and that I should be grateful he even wanted to sleep with me.”
Chloe raised a brow. “And you still offered him a cookie?”
Emily smiled. “He didn’t take rejection well. But under that callous facade I saw a man in pain. From then on, he’d stopped by to talk. He knew what days I baked so he’d just show up. He’d sit where you’re sitting.” Her voice broke.
“You cared about him.”
Emily met her gaze. “There was good in him. Unfortunately, few people got to see it. He didn’t let many people in.”
“But he let you in. His brother thinks he was in some kind of trouble.”
“He was struggling,” the woman said with a nod. “His father had such high expectations of him and he hated that he was the clear favorite. He didn’t understand why his brother didn’t hate him, hate him and his father. Being held up like that was hard on him. It made him rebel.”
“The gambling?”
“That and the women. I think he was looking for someone to punish him. He felt he deserved it.”
“Who beat him up the night he died?”
Emily shook her head. “This is the first I’ve heard about it.”
“Pete?”
“I highly doubt that. Pete might have threatened him, but use his fists?” She shook her head. “Drew and I had a connection. Pete resents it more than if I had slept with Drew.” She shrugged. “I’ve tried to explain it to him.”
“Did he resent it enough to want to kill Drew?”
Emily began to take the cookies off the pan and stack them with the others as if thinking about that—or stalling. “You’re asking if Pete has an alibi for that night. I could tell you he was with me.”
“But he wasn’t. Where was he?”
The woman looked up. “I have no idea. He told me he was driving around thinking. You should take some cookies to your sisters,” Emily said, reaching into a drawer to pull out a plastic bag. “I have plenty.”
* * *
JUSTIN LEFT THE HOSPITAL, relieved and yet still shaken. His father had suffered a heart attack. He thought of the things he’d said to the man and felt ashamed. He’d let the past and his disappointment get to him and regretted it deeply.
There seemed to be only one way to make it up to him. Finding out the truth about Drew. But what if the truth was enough to kill his father?
He felt torn as he drove back to the center of town. At the sound of a blaring horn, his head jerked up. In the rearview mirror, he saw a pickup truck riding his tailgate. The driver wore a cowboy hat. Justin couldn’t see the man’s face. But from the continuing blare of the horn, he got the impression the cowboy wanted him to pull over.
Turning into an empty space along the main street, he parked and got out. Whatever this was about, he planned to put an end to it quickly. The driver of the pickup had pulled in behind him and was now opening his door.
It wasn’t until he was almost to the cowboy that Justin recognized CJ Hanson, his brother’s best friend. CJ shoved back his Stetson as Justin approached.
“I heard you were back but I couldn’t believe it,” CJ said. “I told everyone that you wouldn’t have the nerve to ever show your face around here again.”
CJ had played football for the Montana State University Bobcats but had flunked out after his freshman year. He’d intimidated Justin when he was younger. That wasn’t the case anymore since they now stood about the same height. While CJ had gone to seed, Justin had spent years doing physical ranch work.
As he closed the distance between him and CJ, he saw the man’s eyes widen in alarm. The cowboy was used to Justin being young and a little afraid of him. Seeing that he wasn’t, CJ took a step back, banging into the side of his pickup.
“It sounds like you don’t know what you were talking about,” Justin said, getting into the cowboy’s face. “I’m back and I’m staying.” He wasn’t sure that was even true. “If you have a problem with that, then let’s settle it right now.”
CJ wet his lips and took a swing at him, but being pinned against the side of his truck, the blow had little force to it. Justin blocked it easily and punched the cowboy in the face hoping to finish this quickly. The last thing he wanted was a knock-down-and-drag-out fight on the main street of town.
He heard CJ’s nose break. Blood splattered over the cowboy’s face. Justin took a step back, ready for CJ if he charged. But instead of barreling at him like an angry bull, the cowboy grabbed his bleeding nose with both hands and leaned back against his pickup again.
“You sucker punched me,” CJ said, sounding like he had a bad cold.
Justin shook his head. “I can understand why you and my brother were best friends. That’s the kind of bull he would have said. Whatever problem you have with me, I’m not going to be so easy on you next time.”
With that he turned and walked away, half expecting the cowboy to ambush him from behind. No, he thought, CJ would wait for another time when he had more of an element of surprise—and a couple of friends to back him up.
The one thing Justin could be assured of was that this wasn’t over. He’d better watch his back because his brother’s old friend would be lying for him now.
* * *
WALKING THROUGH THE winter wonderland that was Whitehorse, Montana, in December, Chloe was trying to make sense out of what she’d learned about Drew Calhoun when her phone rang. She saw it was Justin and picked up.
“Where are you?” he asked without preamble.
“A few blocks from home. How is your father?”
“Stable after having a heart attack. I could use a drink,” he said.
Without hesitation, she said, “Just tell me where to meet you.”
He’d taken a table by the fireplace at the Great Northern. Only a few locals were at the bar at the other end of the room. Justin rose to pull out a chair for her and help her off with her coat. She could see that he was upset even though his father being stable had to be good news.
She was trying to read him, when she noticed the skinned knuckles of his right hand. “Eventful afternoon?”
He followed her gaze to his hand. Closed it into a fist and then straightened his fingers painfully, all the time looking sheepish. “Ran into an old friend of my brother’s, CJ Hanson.”
“He sounds char
ming.”
“He was cuter before he got his nose broken, but I don’t want to talk about him. What have you been up to?” He rested his elbows on the table and leaned toward her. The heat of the fireplace next to them was nothing like that in his blue eyes.
“I paid Emily Ferris a visit,” she said. “It was less volatile than your visit with CJ apparently. She fed me cookies and told me about her relationship with your brother.”
He leaned back as their drinks were served and didn’t speak until the bartender left. “Glad to hear you took my advice.”
“Justin, I told you I wasn’t quitting.”
Nodding, he said, “I know but from this point on, we only do this together, agreed? You investigating this alone is too dangerous.”
“I didn’t have to break anyone’s nose,” she pointed out.
He chuckled at that. “Believe me, it could have been worse.” He picked up his beer and took a drink, studying her. “I mean it. I’m worried about you.”
She felt heat warm her face and had to look away. This wasn’t the place to be making eyes at each other. At the other end of the bar, several of the locals had noticed them. “So what’s our next move?”
He grinned. “I know what I’d like mine to be.”
“We’re still talking about finding your brother’s killer...right?”
* * *
JUSTIN WANTED TO lose himself in Chloe’s blue eyes and forget everything else. He ached to kiss her again to prove to her that the chemistry was still there, only stronger. But a part of him feared that he might be wrong. He wasn’t ready to take that chance yet.
“What do you suggest we do next?” he asked, sitting back as he took another drink of his beer.
Chloe shook her head. “If we could find out who beat up Drew the day he died, I think that would be a start.” She told him what she’d learned about Drew from Tina and Emily. “Tina led me to believe that Blaine Simpson could be the one who beat up Drew that night. Apparently Drew was trying to get his old girlfriend—”
