Lucky Shot

by B. J Daniels

  The senator would have to wait a discreet time after the funeral, though. But that didn’t mean that Sarah and the senator wouldn’t be in contact. Knowing Kat, she would want to talk to her father right away.

  He thought about calling her. But it would have been just to hear her voice. Not only that, it was late, and she was with her family. It could wait until tomorrow. He felt antsy, though. But it had nothing to do with the secret he and Kat had uncovered.

  Just the thought of what had transpired between him and Kat in the back of the taxi—he let out a frustrated groan as he parked and went into the Grand. First food, then a motel. He took a seat and ordered dinner and a beer.

  The waitress had just set a cold bottle in front of him when his cell phone vibrated in his jacket pocket. Seeing it was Kat, he smiled and picked up. “How are you?” he asked the minute he heard her voice.

  She sighed. “I’m okay.”

  “You don’t sound okay.”

  “It’s just hard knowing what I do. When will we talk to my father? Max, I know you wanted to wait, but I don’t see how we can now.”

  “He can’t go to her right away.”

  “Emotionally, I think he already has. He took a call earlier. It was my mother. My sister heard him say that he’d made the decision to leave Angelina just before he’d gotten the call about the accident. He also said that my mother couldn’t marry Russell now. I don’t know what she said, but if we’re right about all this, then she was never going to marry him anyway.”

  Max swore under his breath. “When do you want to talk to him?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “I’ll bring the copy of the photo. You do realize that’s pretty much all we have except for our word about what was said by the two men we met with.”

  “You still don’t think he’s going to believe us.”

  “All we can do is try. I’ll drive out in the morning?”

  “What? You aren’t sleeping in the back of your truck?”

  He heard the intimacy in her voice and felt longing stir in him. “I’m splurging and staying in a motel. But first, I’m going to have a steak. You know me.” He wanted to say, “I wish you were here with me,” but she cut him off.

  “Yes, I know you. You’re probably starved.”

  “You do know me.”

  Silence filled the space between them.

  “Kat, did your dad say why Angelina was back in Montana by herself?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Just curious.”

  “Max?”

  “Yes?”

  “You’re not writing about all this, are you?” The intimacy he’d heard before was gone.

  He swore under his breath. “I won’t write anything without telling you first.”

  “I trust you. I’ll tell them to let you through the gate in the morning.”

  His steak arrived, but he’d lost his enthusiasm for it as they said goodnight. He was a reporter. He believed in what he did for a living. He was sitting on one hell of a story. But he couldn’t write it without proof to back it up. He told himself it had nothing to do with how he felt about Kat.

  He swore and took a bite of his steak. On the television over the bar, he saw the news come on. Senator Buckmaster’s face flashed on the screen, then a photo of Angelina.

  He heard some locals at the bar talking about the news. He couldn’t hear everything they were saying, but it was clear that a lot of people who had met Angelina wouldn’t be shedding any tears over her death.

  Max ate what he could, his appetite gone. The night air as he left the restaurant was cold. October in Montana could be an Indian Summer or like winter with a foot of snow. Tonight felt as if snow wasn’t that far in the future.

  He was angry with himself as he started down the nearly empty street toward his pickup. He’d broken his golden rule. Worse, he couldn’t wait to do it again. He just hoped he got the chance. At the mere thought of getting Kat naked—

  The dark figure emerged from the alley so quickly that Max didn’t have time to react. The blow to the side of his head pitched him forward. Through glittering stars, he saw the sidewalk coming up. It was the last thing he remembered.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  BUCKMASTER THOUGHT THINGS couldn’t get any worse until the Silverbow sheriff called. “Any idea why your wife might have been on that particular road at that time of the night?”

  “No.” He realized how little he knew about what Angelina had been up to. That alone caused him concern. Worse, it seemed strange the kind of questions the sheriff was asking. “It was an accident, wasn’t it?”

  “Our investigation has raised some questions. Apparently your wife tried to make a call possibly right before her car went off the highway. Did she reach you?”

  The call was to him? “No, I...” He realized that he’d gotten a call earlier that night. He’d seen it was Angelina calling, but he hadn’t picked up because he’d been in a meeting with his staff. He’d thought that whatever it was, it could wait. Now, he felt as if the earth beneath him had given way. “I saw that she’d called, but she didn’t leave a message.”

  The sheriff didn’t ask why he hadn’t taken the call. He probably picked up whenever his wife called.

  “I was in a meeting,” he said, wanting to add that as a senator, especially one in the middle of a campaign for the highest office in the country, he was a little busy. But he knew he was just making excuses. He hadn’t wanted to talk to Angelina.

  If he had, though, he might know what had been going on. What if she hadn’t been paying attention to her driving when she called him and—

  “The call before that on her cell phone was to a private investigator named Addison Crenshaw. Do you have any idea what that was about?”

  “No.” Buckmaster let out a sigh. So she’d hired another one? Now more than ever, he wished he’d picked up when Angelina had called. What if this investigator had found that deep, dark secret that his wife was determined Sarah was hiding?

  “My wife had hired several investigators over the past few months,” he said. “It was for a personal matter.”

  “Our attempts to talk to the investigator have been unsuccessful. I have to ask. Were you and your wife having any...problems?”

  Buckmaster wanted to laugh. You mean like when your dead first wife shows up after twenty-two years? “If you read the tabloids, I don’t think I have to tell you that we’ve been going through a rough patch lately.”

  “Was it possible your wife thought you were having an affair, and that’s why she hired the private investigator?” the sheriff asked.

  Buckmaster let out a curse. He could see where this was going. He saw no way around it but to tell the sheriff why Angelina had hired numerous PIs. “No, sheriff. She had it in her head that my former wife, Sarah Hamilton, was a threat. That there was something in her history that might impact my election results.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m sure when you find this Addison Crenshaw, he will verify what I’ve told you.”

  “Ms.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “The private investigator. Addison is female.”

  Why hadn’t Angelina been able to just leave things alone? Why had she felt compelled to keep digging and digging into the past? He realized there was a bigger question to concern himself with here. “I don’t understand why you’re asking all these questions.”

  “Like I said, there is evidence at the scene that has raised some questions.”

  “What kind of evidence?” he demanded.

  “The lack of skid marks. It appears that your wife didn’t hit her brakes before she went off the road.”

  He had such a feeling of déjà vu that he had to find a chair and sit down. Sarah hadn’t hit her brakes eith
er, indicating that she’d purposely driven into the Yellowstone River in an attempt to kill herself. “Are you telling me—”

  “It’s too early in the investigation to have any definitive answers. Once we have the brakes checked on the vehicle, we’ll know more.”

  “You think someone tampered with her brakes?”

  “As I said, it’s too early to know. You were in DC at the time of the accident, isn’t that correct?”

  “Yes, just as I already told you. I can provide names of people who will verify where I was, if I have to.” No wonder the sheriff was asking about their relationship. Just because he was in DC at the time of the accident, if someone had tampered with her brakes, that wouldn’t necessarily clear him of suspicion. “You’ll let me know once you have more information?”

  “I will, Senator. In the meantime, again, I am sorry for your loss.”

  * * *

  RUSSELL HAD BEEN RIGHT. The moment he looked into Sarah’s eyes the next morning, he knew.

  “You’re reconsidering,” he said, surprised by the disgust in his voice.

  “Russell—”

  He held up his hand. “Don’t bother making excuses for him. I’ve heard them all. You still don’t know that he wasn’t the one who stole not only years from you but also robbed you of your children.”

  “I love him.”

  He shook his head. “You sound like you’re sixteen.”

  “Maybe that’s how I feel. I never lied to you about my feelings for Buck.”

  She had him there. But he’d thought that his love would make her forget. What a fool he’d been.

  He felt anger burn red hot just under his skin. “Aren’t you even a little suspect of the timing?” he demanded. “He couldn’t bear the thought of you marrying me. You knew he would do something before it was too late, didn’t you?”

  He saw the answer in her face and hated the fury that made him want to shake some sense into her. He’d never been a violent man, but something in her made him feel capable of it.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if he had her killed,” Russell snapped. “But that would be okay with you, right? Anything he does is okay with you.”

  Sarah gasped, her eyes narrowing as she looked at him. “You hate him so much that you will believe anything of him. I’m so sorry. I’m the one who made you this way.”

  Russell shook his head. Did he really believe that the senator would have his wife killed so he could be with Sarah? He thought of how much he wanted the woman and knew that murder wasn’t necessarily out of the question. Except it wasn’t for him. He knew better than to try to hang on to something that wasn’t his, no matter how badly he wanted it.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He looked at his boots for a moment, not trusting his voice. “You know I only want the best for you.”

  She stepped to him and touched his arm. “I know. You’re the best man I’ve ever known. That’s why I don’t want you to change because of me.”

  He nodded and removed her hand from his arm.

  Her face clouded for a moment. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

  “I’ll survive.” Right now it didn’t feel like it. But he would. “Goodbye, Sarah.”

  “I’m sure we’ll see each other—”

  “I doubt that. I’m thinking I might take a vacation. Winter’s coming. I’m not up to another one right now. I’m heading south, how far is debatable.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say goodbye.” With that he turned and walked out the door, his heart breaking. But he refused to look back. Sarah was gone, but then again she’d never been his.

  * * *

  SHERIFF CURRY WAS leaving the hospital after checking on mugging victim Max Malone, when he got the call about remains being found back in the woods at the base of the Crazy Mountains.

  As county sheriff, Frank was still dealing with the mugging. He couldn’t remember ever hearing of anyone being mugged on the main drag of Big Timber. “What was taken?” he’d asked.

  “My wallet, my keys. He got into my pickup and took my notebooks and a camera that didn’t belong to me.”

  “You’re one of those journalists here covering Senator Hamilton?”

  Malone had nodded, although it had been clear it hurt to do so. “I didn’t get a good look at whoever hit me. That’s why I’m surprised you’re here.”

  “The doctor called me. He said when you were brought in, you said you were mugged.”

  The reporter had frowned. “I don’t remember.”

  “Well, the good news is that you only have a minor concussion. I’m sure everything else is covered by your car insurance.”

  “Except for my notes,” he’d said almost to himself.

  “If you remember anything about the attacker, give me a holler,” Frank had said. As he was leaving, he saw one of the Hamilton girls coming down the hall. He recognized Kat only a moment before she slipped into Max Malone’s room.

  The sheriff had raised a curious brow, but didn’t give it any more thought as his cell phone rang.

  Remains found at the base of the Crazies, the hunter had said. After the hunter described the clothing with the remains, Frank realized he might have found missing journalist Chuck Barrow’s body. It matched the description of what Chuck Barrow was last seen wearing before he disappeared three months ago.

  Barrow’s vehicle had been found in a ravine, the driver’s side door standing open. It was believed that the injured Barrow had been confused and wandered off into the Crazies thinking he was going for help.

  “I’d say a bear got to him,” the hunter said. “The remains are strewn over a pretty wide area. Looks like the bear tried to bury what he couldn’t use.”

  “Where’d you say you are again?” Frank asked.

  The hunter told him. The location was miles from where Barrow’s vehicle had gone in the ravine.

  “I’ll be right there.” Frank called the coroner, Charlie Brooks, and asked him to meet him at the location.

  Two journalists. One dead, another mugged. He doubted there was a connection, though, as he called his undersheriff and asked him to meet him at the office.

  Undersheriff Dillon Lawson was just coming in the office as Frank pulled up. “Take a ride with me,” Frank said and explained about the remains the hunter had found and about the mugging last night.

  As he drove, he also updated Dillon on the news about the brain-wiping experimenting that Dr. Venable—and his blonde assistant—had been engaged in. “We’re waiting on photographs of the two of them from Brazil.”

  Dillon shook his head. “So you think it’s really possible that Sarah Hamilton’s brain was wiped clean of the past twenty-two years?”

  “I’m still skeptical about all of it, but at least we have a lead on where she’s been and possibly who she’s been with.”

  “So, what was she doing down in Brazil?”

  “Apparently she was acting as the doctor’s assistant. If true, then it substantiates what Lynette and I learned in White Sulphur Springs. Sarah knew the doctor and she was the blonde who was brought to that clinic the night after her car went into the Yellowstone River. But we still don’t know who took her there that night.”

  Dillon rubbed his jaw for a moment. “So you’re waiting for a photo that will tie Sarah to the doctor in Brazil.”

  “We’re getting closer to the truth.”

  “And then what?” Dillon asked. “I’m sorry to say it, but even if we can put her in both places, where does that leave us?”

  “I’m not sure, since Sarah swears she can’t remember anything.”

  “Living in Brazil for the past twenty years isn’t illegal,” Dillon said as if talking to himself. “Apparently not even brain wiping is illegal. It leaves the big question unans
wered. What brought her back now?”

  “She says her children. But what if I told you that the doctor has also left Brazil?”

  “You think he’s in Montana?”

  “I think at some point, he is going to give Sarah back her memory,” Frank said. “And then we’ll know why she tried to kill herself. Russell Murdock is convinced that the senator is responsible for all of it.”

  “There’s a hot potato, if there ever was one. Hamilton is one of the most respected senators in the country,” Dillon said. “He’s powerful enough right now. If he wins the presidency... We are going to have to be very careful with all this.”

  “I don’t think we’re going to have to wait too much longer,” Frank said. “I suspect Sarah will get her memory back about the time Buckmaster Hamilton becomes president.”

  * * *

  KAT QUIT LYING to herself the moment she got Max’s message. She had turned off her phone last night before she’d gone to bed. Everyone had been calling with either condolences or curiosity. She’d needed sleep, so she hadn’t turned it back on until she’d come out of the shower this morning.

  When she’d heard his voice, heard that he was in the hospital, heard that he was in pain, she couldn’t deny how she felt any longer.

  All the way into town, she’d argued with herself about her feelings. He was a reporter. Her family was a story. Only a fool would fall in love with a man like Max Malone. He’d never be happy staying in one place. He would be chasing the next story as soon as he was through here. Through with her.

  But all those arguments didn’t change the way she felt.

  She passed the sheriff coming out of Max’s room and rushed in, shocked to see how pale he was against the white sheets. His head was bandaged, but his eyes were bright when he saw her hurry to his bedside.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, taking his hand and pressing it to her chest.