by B. J Daniels
He smiled and nodded. “Let’s see if it’s parked in the airport long-term parking lot. But at any point if you want—”
“Don’t worry, you’ll know when I’ve had enough of you.” She walked past him and out the door to where he’d parked his bike. “Geneva’s car should be easy to find. Or not find.”
He followed her, relieved that she wasn’t still thinking of finding Geneva on her own. Or turning herself in to the cops. He told himself that she was safer with him. At least he hoped that was true.
She was waiting next to his bike. He felt a pull stronger than gravity as he closed the cabin door and walked toward her. The morning sun lit her face. Those big blue eyes watched him approach. He hadn’t wanted this job. Still didn’t. But even if the judge had ordered him off, he couldn’t quit now. He’d gone into the mountains to rescue Geneva Davenport. He still had to find her and get her to her grandfather.
But his main job right now was to keep Jenny Jo Foster alive. He’d never wanted to be the hero more than right now.
Just don’t get her killed.
And don’t fall for her.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THORN SWUNG THROUGH the airport parking lot on his motorcycle, JJ holding on behind him. It didn’t take long to realize that Geneva’s bright red sports car wasn’t parked at the small Kalispell airport.
As he headed for the exit, he pulled over and cut off the motor to take a call on his cell phone. “Good morning again, Judge.”
“You haven’t changed your mind?”
“No, and I could really use those addresses.”
WT sighed and gave him Brennan’s and Spencer’s addresses. “I assume you’re planning to go by their houses. I thought you might want the address of Geneva’s boyfriend, Zac Judson.” The judge also offered him the make and model of the car Zac was driving.
“You read my mind.”
“As for the other men, their families don’t know yet that Wes and Kyle are dead,” the judge said. “So be careful. On the news they said that there were two bodies in the plane, but their identities hadn’t been released.”
Thorn knew that it would take a while, since the bodies had been incinerated when the plane blew up, and neither man had identification on him.
“I’ll get back to you on the other thing that you asked about,” the judge said, and Thorn thanked him and disconnected.
“Zac Judson’s apartment is the closest,” JJ said after he told her the addresses the judge had given him.
The apartment complex where Zac rented was in the trees north of Big Fork. It didn’t take any time to find his unit. The black sports car with the Texas plates that the judge had told him about wasn’t parked outside. They knocked, then, scanning the area and seeing no one, Thorn picked the lock and they quickly stepped inside.
“A little talent you picked up in your youth?” JJ asked.
“One let’s not mention to the judge,” he said as they began to look around.
“It’s like he’s never been here,” she said after a few moments. “Nothing personal in here.”
“Because he cleaned it out either before the kidnapping scheme began,” Thorn said, “or maybe when it went awry. Either way, there is nothing here.”
As they started to leave, JJ bent down to pick up something that had fallen next to the nightstand in the bedroom. She held up a matchbook. “It’s from a local bar.”
Thorn smiled. “We might have to check the place out.”
A knock at the door made them both jump. Thorn motioned for JJ to relax. She rolled her eyes as she pocketed the matchbook and he went to open the door.
The woman standing outside looked surprised to see the two of them. “I thought you were Zac,” she said.
“We were looking for him ourselves,” he said.
The woman looked past Thorn to JJ. “How did you get in here?”
“The door was open,” Thorn said.
“I’m the apartment manager. You’re friends of his?”
“Acquaintances,” Thorn said.
“Well, if you see him, tell him his rent is due and if I don’t get it by the end of the month, he’s out.” She seemed to study them both, clearly waiting for them to leave so she could lock up.
Thorn doubted Zac was worried about paying his rent. “If I see him, I’ll tell him.” With that he and JJ walked out of the apartment. They heard the apartment manager lock the door as she too left.
Climbing on the bike, Thorn started it and they took off toward the next address the judge had given him. With JJ guiding him, he turned away from Flathead Lake and followed the Swan River through dense trees until he spotted the address on a rusting old mailbox by the highway.
Turning down a dirt road, they meandered through the pines, coming to a dead end at a mobile home parked in the woods. An older model car sat outside. Thorn pulled the bike in slowly, watching the curtains inside the house for any movement. When he cut the motor, he didn’t get off the bike for a moment, waiting to see if anyone came out.
JJ slid off to stand and look around. “This is where Kyle Spencer lived?”
“Are you all right?” he asked, climbing off the bike to join her.
“I keep thinking about the way he died.” She closed her eyes for a moment, then turned her gaze on him. “Or maybe what haunts me is if he hadn’t been mortally injured, I would have probably had to shoot him.”
Thorn put his arm around her, drawing her into his chest for a moment. “It often doesn’t feel real and then suddenly it does and...” He didn’t finish. He didn’t have to. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
She nodded against his chest and then stepped back. “So we’re looking for a connection to the person who hired them, right?”
“The person who hired the kidnappers will see the news about the plane and know that two people walked away from the crash.”
JJ nodded. “There should have been four bodies. But the person won’t know who got away—at least for a while.”
Thorn could feel the clock ticking. Maybe if they moved fast enough they could find Baker and he would lead them to Geneva.
JJ headed toward the mobile home. He could see that she was fighting memories of her harrowing brush with death aboard the plane.
He looked past the trailer to where weeds grew around several abandoned cars and a snowmobile that had been torn apart, as if Kyle had been in the middle of working on it.
* * *
JJ KNOCKED AT the door and waited. A squirrel chattered at them from one of the tall pine trees. She could hear the river nearby, and the sound of traffic on the two-lane highway. Overhead, the sky was that incredible summertime in Montana blue that she loved. The sun’s rays poked through the branches, warming the morning already scented with pine.
Thorn put on a pair of gloves he’d pulled from the saddlebag on his bike and tried the door. Locked. He turned and headed for a small shed nearby, and came back a few moments later with a crowbar.
“Is this that criminal mind you told me about?” she joked.
He gave her a wan smile. “I was hoping that was all behind me. Just like I was hoping death and destruction were too.”
“I’m sorry. If I hadn’t been in Geneva’s house that night—”
He pried at the door, the lock popping loudly as it came open, before he turned to her. “You’re not responsible for this. You don’t want it any more than I do, but we’re in the middle of it now. All we can do is our best to, as the judge says, keep the body count down and don’t get killed.”
Opening the door, he took a look in and then motioned for her to enter. “Try not to leave fingerprints, but I guess I don’t have to tell you that.”
It took only a few moments to realize that Kyle lived alone, and had for some time from the looks of the place. She wandered to the back, finding clothes strew
n over an unmade bed. She picked up one of the shirts.
“Looks like he works at an automotive shop in Kalispell,” she called. “Bud’s Garage.” Using a hand towel she’d found in the pile of clothes, she checked the nightstand next to the bed, but found nothing of interest before she checked the bathroom and then the second bedroom. It appeared to be a storage area with guns, winter clothing and snowmobile parts that probably went to the metal skeleton in the yard.
When she came down the hall, she found Thorn going through the pile of mail on the table.
“Lots of unpaid bills,” he said. “I would imagine an opportunity to make money would have been greatly appreciated. Even one highly illegal and dangerous like kidnapping.”
“I doubt it was his first trip outside the jail,” JJ said, remembering the look she’d seen in his eyes when she’d been fighting for her life and had broken his nose. “Anything on Baker?”
Thorn shook his head. “No one keeps an address book. Everything is usually on their phones.” He sighed. “Let’s try Wes Brennan’s house.”
Back on the motorcycle, they headed toward the town of Polson on the south end of Flathead Lake. Mile after mile, they passed cherry orchards and stands. It was too early for the stands to be open, but it wouldn’t be long now. Cherry season was one of JJ’s favorite reasons for living in this area. That and the lake in the summer.
Wes Brennan lived in a large Victorian house overlooking the lake on the edge of town. As Thorn parked the bike, JJ climbed off to stare at the beautiful home. It was beautifully restored to its earlier grandeur. There were flowers in the planters and the lawn was cut. It was nothing like Kyle’s place in the woods.
She couldn’t help but wonder how the two had known each other and how they’d become kidnappers. The night at the house, Wes had definitely been running the show. She couldn’t believe that the man who lived here had drugged her and dragged her out of Geneva’s house Friday night. Why would he take such a chance?
“A woman lives here,” JJ said as Thorn joined her, and they walked toward the house past the flower beds. “He’s married and...” Her voice broke as she saw the tricycle and small wading pool on the side of the house nearest the lake. “He has children.”
Thorn opened the white wrought iron gate, and she stepped through to follow the narrow walk up to the front porch.
At the door, she hesitated. “She won’t know her husband is dead,” she whispered, and Thorn nodded.
He knocked. From inside the house, they heard the sound of young voices and the thunder of small feet. A few moments later, the door swung open. A pretty thirtysomething woman in an apron looked expectantly at them as two identical girls of about four peered around her and giggled.
“Mrs. Brennan?” Thorn asked.
“Yes?”
“We were looking for your husband,” he said.
“I’m sorry, he’s not home.”
“Can you tell us where we can find him?”
“He had an unexpected flight. He’s a pilot for a local carrier. Can I help you with anything?”
JJ loved Montana because people were so trusting and friendly. “We were actually looking for a friend of his,” she said. “Baker?”
The woman nodded and looked even more relaxed. “Johnny. It seems everyone is looking for him. His girlfriend’s been calling. Did you try the bar?” At their confused look, she added, “You probably haven’t heard since he only recently began managing the Pelican. They might know where he is.”
“We stopped by the home of Kyle Spencer, another friend of your husband’s, to ask about Johnny, but he must be at work,” Thorn said.
Mrs. Brennan frowned. “Wes’s mechanic? I didn’t realize that Johnny even knew Kyle, but maybe he’s getting his truck worked on there now, as well.” She shook her head. “I can’t keep track of everything my husband is involved in,” she joked. “Let alone his friends.”
The twins were clamoring for something to eat. JJ heard her own stomach rumble and realized she hadn’t had breakfast.
“I wish I could be of more help,” the woman said after promising both girls that she would get them something as soon as she finished talking to these people.
“Where is Johnny living now?” Thorn asked. “I’ve kind of lost track of him. That’s why I was hoping your husband could help.”
“He finally moved out of his folks’ place over on Peach Street. He’s renting a condo outside of town.” The woman proceeded to give them instructions.
“But you said his girlfriend hasn’t seen him, so he probably isn’t there,” JJ said.
“Oh, Sherry doesn’t live with him. If you know Johnny, then you know how he is with women. He’s looking for the perfect one.” She chuckled. “One with money.”
* * *
WT WALKED ALONG Whitefish Lake at a brisk pace. He’d had to get out of the house. He’d told Franklin that he needed fresh air and to call him at once if he heard anything.
In truth, he had needed to get away from Helen. He felt like a coward, but being around her brought it all back. The past intensity of his love for her. The devastation when she betrayed him.
He hadn’t thought about her in years. And yet she’d always been there, at the back of his mind, stuck in that piece of his heart that he could never give away to any other woman.
After seeing her again, the memories had come flooding back, haunting him, making him question everything. He’d been so young and impulsive, so...judgmental. That’s the word that kept coming to mind. Had he wasted his life unwilling to love when it could have been so different if he had only been more forgiving?
He’d told himself that he couldn’t forgive her. Things had seemed so black-and-white back then. But in truth, had he let his hurt and disappointment in her force a hasty decision that he regretted?
Sighing, he headed back toward the house. He couldn’t change the past any more than he could change himself. Helen had broken his trust along with his heart. But being around her again, he saw that he’d made a decision years ago that he hadn’t known would change the course of his life. It had set him on a solitary one that would leave him alone and childless.
Until he’d seen Helen again, he hadn’t realized that he had missed out on anything. Now he realized that maybe it wasn’t too late to change course.
* * *
THORN DOUBTED THEY would find Baker at his apartment. But he’d memorized the address and knew they had to at least try it. Maybe there would be something at the house that would get them closer to finding Geneva.
He heard JJ’s stomach growl loudly as they walked back to his bike. As soon as she climbed on behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, he started the motor and looked for a fast-food restaurant. He turned into the first one, going through the drive-up.
JJ was more subdued than he’d seen her as they ordered. He paid, then they rode over to a park where there was a view of the lake along with a picnic table under a pine tree. As they climbed off the bike, she said, “I feel awful for that woman and her kids.”
“I know, but Wes knew what he was getting involved in,” Thorn said as he dusted off the picnic bench. “I can’t understand why he would. Apparently, he involved his mechanic, and his friend Johnny Baker. Money can be a huge motivator, I guess.”
As they sat down, he pulled out her breakfast sandwich and handed it to her.
“You really think if we find Baker, that he will just give up the person’s name who hired him?” JJ asked as she unwrapped her sandwich and took a bite with less than her usual enthusiasm.
“It will probably take some convincing.”
She chewed and swallowed as her gaze focused on him. “Sometimes you worry me.”
“I don’t mean to. It sounds like he’s hiding out, so let’s cross that bridge when we come to it. In the meantime, let’s talk about where Geneva might be.”
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“I told you, I’m just someone who arranges her travel itinerary—not her personal friend,” JJ said as she picked up the coffee he’d bought her.
That’s all she thought she was. But he figured she knew a lot more about Geneva’s habits than she realized. If the woman was still in the area, then she would go somewhere she believed was safe. He said as much to JJ.
“What about her friends?”
She shook her head distractedly. “I doubt she’d trust any of them with the truth about anything. I could tell by the way she related to them that she had a reputation as the rich, spoiled socialite to uphold.”
“She didn’t have a best friend?” he asked.
“Maybe, but not one I ever heard in the background when she called. It always felt like she was putting on a show for her friends when she called to make reservations. I hate talking about her like this. I feel as if I’m betraying her confidence.”
And he hated that he had to remind her. “JJ, this is the woman who could have not only just set you up, but also planned for you to die in a plane crash—if not in the explosion that followed.”
* * *
WHY DID SHE trust Geneva when she had so much trouble trusting anyone? Maybe especially Thorn? It made no sense. Maybe she felt sorry for Geneva. She was so young and had everything, and yet she wasn’t happy.
A boat sped past, its wake sending waves crashing onto the beach. A family was having breakfast at another picnic table. The mother was cooking bacon on a Coleman stove, the smell tantalizing. The three children were playing chase around the table, and the father was setting the table with paper plates and plastic forks.
JJ looked at the domestic scene unable not to feel an ache in her chest.
She sensed that Thorn’s gaze followed hers and wondered if he had wanted children with his wife. If that could have been his life if his wife hadn’t died.
She quickly looked away and finished her sandwich even though she was no longer hungry. She choked it down with the last of her coffee.
