Lucky Shot

by B. J Daniels

  “Say cheese,” he said and squeezed her tighter against him as he grinned at the camera and heard the familiar snap.

  * * *

  “HOW COULD YOU make a promise like that?” Kat demanded the moment she and Max were in her SUV and headed down off the mountain.

  “No matter who that woman used to be, and maybe still is, she loves you.” He shot her a look, but she seemed to be concentrating only on her driving and the mad she had going. “She was so touched that you came to see her.”

  Kat shook her head, and when she spoke, her voice broke. “I know, which makes our deception back there all the more despicable. You wanted her to think we were lovers.”

  “Don’t you think it’s just a matter of time anyway?” he joked, since it was definitely against his golden rule. But around Kat sometimes, he thought it was a stupid rule.

  She shot him a venomous look. “She didn’t recognize any of the people in the photo.” She seemed to be waiting for him to tell her he thought her mother had lied. “Well?”

  “You’re right. She didn’t recognize any of them—even herself.”

  “What?” She hit the brakes for a hairpin turn on the narrow dirt road.

  “She either doesn’t remember or...”

  “Or what?”

  “Or she’s a better liar than I am a lie detector. If so, then she’s the first who’s fooled me.”

  “Maybe you’re wrong about all of it,” Kat said, sounding hopeful.

  “You and I both know better than that. She’s Red. Now it is just a matter of proving it.”

  Kat groaned. “You are such a...manipulator.”

  He’d been called worse. “Because I got a photo of the two of you?”

  “So help me, if you use that in an article—”

  “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “How do I know that?” she demanded. “How do I know that you aren’t manipulating me right now, like you do everyone else, to get what you want?”

  “Because if that was true, you and I would already be lovers.”

  * * *

  KAT TOOK A curve a little too fast. She had made the mistake of glancing over at him. The look he gave her made her catch her breath. Heat radiated through her on a race to her core. It brought aches in places she couldn’t remember ever aching before.

  She quickly turned back to her driving, cussing her reaction to him as she warned herself not to fall for any of this. Max knew how to work people. He’d been working her since the moment they met.

  When she dared look at him again, she saw that he was back to being an investigative journalist. Which only made her angrier, since she was still in a bad mood. How could she let this man get to her like this?

  “I’ll take the photo of you and your mother with me to the prison,” he said, clearly having moved on to his real desire—getting his story.

  “I’m going with you.” She was as surprised as he was.

  “But I thought—”

  “I’ve changed my mind.”

  “Good. You’ll definitely be an asset. Nothing like Senator Buckmaster Hamilton’s daughter to get us in. Mason Green is in a part of the prison that could make it dicey.”

  “Glad I could be of help,” she said, her words dripping with sarcasm, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “What changed your mind?” he asked after a moment.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him frowning over at her, as if perplexed by this change in her.

  “No big secret,” she said. “Maybe I want to be there when you talk to these men. I want to judge for myself if they recognize my mother.”

  “You don’t trust me?”

  “Not as far as I can throw you.”

  He grinned at her. “I’d like to see that move. Anytime you’d like to try.”

  “Stop flirting with me. I already said I would go with you.” She shook her head and kept driving. What had she gotten herself into? She’d never been to a prison, had no desire to meet any killers behind bars there and... She shuddered as she had a thought. The two who’d been arrested? Was one of them Red’s lover? This was crazy.

  “Stop sitting over there thinking of ways to get out of this,” Max said, clearly reading her. “You’re Kat Hamilton. This might turn out to be the adventure you’ve been waiting for all your life.”

  She’d reached his pickup where they’d left it outside the fence at Hamilton Ranch and parked a ways from it. “I have not been waiting for—”

  “Me to come along?” He grinned. “You really need to work on becoming a better liar.”

  “I’ll get right on that.”

  “You’re too honest. You’ll never make a good liar.”

  She shook her head. “You think you know me so well.”

  His look turned serious again, and she realized that it was more dangerous than his grin. “I know you, Kat Hamilton. I’d like to say I know you inside and out. Maybe someday soon.”

  His gaze was so probing, so invasive, so personal that it made her squirm. She reached across him and opened his door. “In your dreams, Malone.”

  He laughed. “Yep, you’ve definitely been there.” He tipped his straw cowboy hat and slid his long lanky frame out of her SUV, only to lean back in. “Sometime I’ll have to tell you how those dreams ended.”

  Before she could react, he cupped the back of her neck, drew her to him and kissed her. “I’ll call you,” he said with a wink, closed the door and sauntered toward his pickup.

  * * *

  SARAH WAS STILL upset after her daughter and friend’s visit. Kat hadn’t taken her upcoming nuptials well at all. She’d hoped that her daughters would understand. Maybe the others would, she reminded herself. Kat had always been her most difficult child.

  As she let her thoughts drift to the photograph her daughter and the reporter had shown her, Sarah frowned. What had that been about? Whatever it was, it had made her...uncomfortable. She’d looked into each of the faces and felt...something, but nothing she could put her finger on.

  They’d all been holding weapons. Hadn’t she had a sense that she’d held just such a large weapon? Not just held one, but fired one.

  She thought again of the faces and felt her stomach knot. She remembered standing like that for a snapshot, only in this flash of memory she was trying hard not to laugh. She shook her head. All these flashes of what she assumed were memories gave her a headache. None of them made any sense.

  But there had been a reason Kat had wanted her to see the photo, wanted her to look into those faces. Wanted her to react. Other than feeling slightly uncomfortable looking at those people, she’d felt...nothing. Did they think she knew those people? Did she?

  Her cell phone rang, drawing her back from her dark thoughts. Checking the screen, she saw that it was Russell and answered.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  She considered telling him about Kat and Max Malone’s visit. But something held her back. “I’m fine. What are you up to?”

  There was a smile in his voice. “Where should we go to pick out your engagement ring tomorrow?” he asked. “I want you to have exactly what you want.”

  What did she want? Only the normal life that Russell was promising her, she told herself. “You say where. Can we have dinner after in town? I’m ready to get back into the world.” No matter who I knew or what I was in the past.

  * * *

  ANGELINA COULDN’T BELIEVE how hard it was to hire a private investigator. The first one had quit, the second one had died, although she was sure it had nothing to do with her, and now she had to drive all the way to Butte in the hopes that the one she’d talked to on the phone would take her money. Well, Buckmaster’s money, but she’d definitely earned her share of it.

  Addison “Ace” Crenshaw
’s office was in an abandoned-looking part of town on the side of a mountain that, according to Crenshaw, was known as the Richest Hill on Earth. She found that hard to believe as she got out, stepped over a homeless man on the sidewalk and dodged a whirlwind of flying debris.

  Once inside the weathered door, she was forced to climb two flights of stairs. This had been a mistake, she told herself with each step. But she’d driven almost two hours to get here. She’d hoped she and “Ace” could do their business over the phone, but he’d insisted in his deep smoker’s voice on a face-to-face meeting.

  “I like to know who I’m doing business with,” the man had said.

  “I’m Senator Buckmaster Hamilton’s wife. What more do you need to know?”

  He’d chuckled. “You sound uppity enough to be his wife, but I’d like to take a gander at you just the same.”

  She’d almost hung up right then. But she’d run out of options. Most of the investigators had been happy to talk to her, until she’d mentioned what she wanted. Then they’d passed, saying they wouldn’t be interested.

  At the top of the second flight of stairs, Angelina stopped to catch her breath. The stairs had been steep and smelled of decay. Looking around, she saw a door marked Crenshaw Investigations. Bracing herself, she stepped to it and tried the doorknob. Locked.

  He’d told her to be here at four. It was two minutes after. Irritation set her blood to a slow simmer as she knocked hard on the door.

  A moment later, she heard heavy footfalls from inside the room. The knob rattled and the door swung in. Standing before her was a woman.

  “I’m looking for Addison Crenshaw,” Angelina said, thinking the man probably thought he could push her off on to his receptionist.

  “Just call me Ace,” the woman said in that deep, gruff voice Angelina recalled from their phone conversation.

  Still she said, “You’re Addison?”

  “In the flesh.” Though her voice was deep and brisk, to say the least, she was a surprisingly attractive woman. The statuesque blonde was dressed in jeans, boots and a sweater that accented every curve. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Angelina guessed her to be in her early forties.

  “I’m not sure—”

  “That a woman can handle what you need?” Ace asked, sounding amused. “Something tells me that you’ve knocked on a lot of doors. But if you think I can’t handle it...”

  “No, I mean, yes, I want to hire you.”

  Ace chuckled and waved her in. The office couldn’t have been more utilitarian. There wasn’t even a living plant. Angelina pulled up a straight-back chair and sat, her purse on her lap. The woman made her a little nervous. She could see that whatever room Ace was in, she filled the entire space with her presence.

  “I’m guessing whatever you need, it’s...sensitive,” Ace said, leaning back in her leather office chair.

  “How long have you been—”

  “My father was the original Addison Crenshaw. I used to help him with cases from the time I was little. He’s the ‘Ace.’ I like a challenge and I usually come through. When he passed...I stepped into his shoes.”

  Angelina nodded, thinking that few men had ever made her feel intimidated, let alone a woman.

  “So spit it out,” the PI said. “It has something to do with your husband.”

  “His first wife.”

  Ace nodded. “You want her killed.”

  Angelina blinked. “No, I, that is...”

  The PI laughed. “What do you want done with her?”

  “I want to find out what she’s hiding. Her name is—”

  “Sarah Johnson Hamilton. I read the papers. She really can’t remember the past twenty-two years?”

  “So she says. But I think there is more to it, and whatever she’s hiding goes way back. Her past is too...perfect. She is too...perfect.”

  Ace nodded. “So you’re jealous as hell, and you’re hoping there is something to dig up.”

  “There is something. Otherwise the other PIs—”

  “You’ve had other investigators on this.”

  It wasn’t a question. “Yes. One quit. He said it was too dangerous. The second one...was killed.” Angelina stopped, realizing that she was going to scare this one off, as well. “I can understand if you don’t—”

  Addison cut her off with a smile. “Here I was thinking that finding any secrets on this woman was just wishful thinking on your part. But it sounds to me like you just might be onto something. I’ll take the job, but I don’t come cheap.”

  “Money is no object,” Angelina said and opened her purse.

  * * *

  NEWS OF SENATOR BUCKMASTER HAMILTON’S first wife’s engagement to rancher Russell Murdock had whirled around the county like the winds out of the Crazies.

  It died down just as quickly. Russell had said marrying him would free her from media attention. Sarah was a little surprised, though, at how quickly the reporters lost interest in her.

  Russell had talked her into a short press conference to make the announcement official. He’d had it at his ranch out front of his house in the morning before they headed out to get a large diamond engagement ring. Several dozen reporters had shown up.

  “I just want to confirm that Sarah and I are getting married.” He’d taken her hand, squeezing it before continuing, as cameras snapped dozens of shots of the two of them. “We’d appreciate all of you letting us enjoy the rest of our lives in peace. Thank you.”

  As they turned to retreat back into the house, though, reporters called out questions. “What about your memory, Sarah? Has it come back?”

  “What does the senator think about this?”

  “Does this have anything to do with your former husband’s run for president?”

  “What do your daughters think about your engagement?”

  But that had been it. The reporters had all left. Sarah saw her photo plastered across the supermarket rags for a couple of weeks with headlines like Senator’s Ex to Wed Rancher Who Saved Her, Lovers’ Triangle Broken by Handsome Rancher, No White House For Long-Lost Mom. And then there was nothing.

  “I told you that marrying me would make you no longer newsworthy,” Russell had joked as they drove to Bozeman. They hadn’t seen one reporter, and she doubted they would.

  Sarah felt a strange pang. Angelina Hamilton’s face was always on the television. People were already referring to her as the First Lady, even though Buck hadn’t yet been nominated for the Republican candidacy.

  Not that she wanted to be in the public eye like that. But a part of her felt...ripped off, as if Angelina had stolen what should have been hers.

  She reminded herself that she was the one who’d tried to kill herself in the Yellowstone River. Had she been leaving Buck or really just depressed and wanting to end it all? With twenty-two years missing, she’d likely never know. Now she’d come back to grown children who didn’t even know her and to a husband who had a new wife.

  “Are you all right?” Russell asked as he parked in front of the jewelry store.

  “I’m...great,” she said and flashed him a smile. She’d told him that Kat and a friend had come up to the cabin for a visit. She hadn’t told him about the photo they’d asked her to look at or that Max Malone was a reporter.

  Not that it mattered anymore whether he did a story on her or not. The only news was her engagement. Her memory hadn’t returned. Buck hadn’t left Angelina for her.

  “You aren’t going to be sorry that you married me,” Russell assured her as he hurried around to open her door.

  “You’re a wonderful man. No woman would regret marrying you,” she said honestly. So why did she still feel as if the marriage would never happen?

  “Let’s get that ring. I want you to have something beautiful.”

 
As she got out of Russell’s pickup, she looked down at her left hand. With a start, she recalled that she hadn’t been wearing any jewelry when she’d come wandering out of the woods and into the road in front of Russell’s truck.

  So where was the diamond engagement ring and wedding band that Buck had put on her finger? Long ago pawned for cash? Or lost? Or stolen? She had no idea. But wherever it was, it hadn’t been on her finger in years. Maybe she’d taken it off that night before she’d gone into the river. Buck hadn’t mentioned having it at the house. Maybe she’d thrown it in the river. Or maybe she’d given it to whoever had picked her up in the wee hours of the morning after she’d gone in the river.

  “Sarah?”

  She looked up, realizing that she’d been standing staring at her left hand all this time. After taking a shaky breath, she let it out. “I was just thinking about what kind of ring I would like.”

  His look said he didn’t believe that was what she’d been pondering, but he didn’t call her on it. “If I know you, you want something tasteful but not flashy.”

  Tasteful but not flashy. Was that her? “You do know me,” she said as she joined him on the sidewalk. He pushed open the jewelry store door, and they stepped in to the sound of soft music.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  KAT COULDN’T BELIEVE she was headed for New York and the maximum security facility where Mason Green, former member of the Prophecy, had been locked up for almost forty years.

  Max had been quiet on the plane. Like her, he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts as he drove the rental car toward the prison.

  “This just seems like a waste of time,” she said as she fidgeted with the clasp on her purse. “He isn’t going to tell us anything we don’t already know.”

  “He agreed to see us. If he didn’t want to talk, he wouldn’t have agreed to see us,” Max said without looking at her. “I had to pull a lot of strings to get this interview.”

  She looked at her watch. “What time did you say visiting hours were?”

  “Kat,” he said and took his hand off the wheel long enough to take her hand for a moment. “There’s no reason to be so nervous.”