Playing For Keeps (Montana Men)

by Jaydyn Chelcee

  Secret Service Headquarters

  Washington, D.C.

  February 17, Tuesday

  Nineteen hours after the assassination…

  Sam paused in the doorway of Conference Room Number Three at the Secret Service headquarters and looked around for a friendly familiar face. She figured most of the agents in the low-rise building chose not to be her friend deliberately, or they’d have Nailer to deal with, and Nailer was anything but pleasant at all times.

  No love lost, most of the agents were cocky jerks anyway.

  Across the room near the coffee maker, she caught the eye of Agent Rydge Scott. He was the exception. She’d give anything to get him on her team. He nodded and added a packet of sugar to his cup as she and Travis approached him. “I thought you were on guard duty to the president?” she said quietly so her voice wouldn’t carry across the room. She wasn’t particularly hiding what she said, but neither was she in the mood to share with all the cocked ears intent on listening in.

  Rydge nodded and stirred the coffee with a swizzle stick. “I was, until the dumb fuck decided to hide out in the bunker with four guards stationed outside the sealed door.”

  “Good God,” Travis said. “He’s in the shelter?”

  “Yep.”

  Sam eyed the agent and did her best to keep a straight face. “Alone?”

  Rydge took a sip of the coffee, then lowered the cup. “I plead the fifth.”

  “He’s got the actress with him?” she asked incredulously.

  “Make that two actresses and you win the blue ribbon,” Rydge replied, clenching his jaw. “The man is either a complete idiot or the biggest fool in history.”

  “Both,” Sam said with Travis.

  Rydge laughed and agreed.

  “He’s got to come out and give a press statement,” Travis injected.

  “He won’t,” Rydge said. “Not until he’s assured the assassin wasn’t after him. The reason I’m here to study the film.”

  “Yeah.” Sam poured herself a cup and handed one to Travis. “Us, too, however, I think there’s little doubt the assassin got exactly who he intended. It’d be difficult to say the least for anyone to mistake Molly for John.”

  Rydge shrugged. “Still, the Spanish ambassador was killed, too. It’s possible someone thought he was John.”

  “I don’t think so,” Sam argued. “I think the killer got exactly who he intended, both times.”

  “We’ll see,” Rydge said. “They’re starting the tape.”

  “Rydge, is Sam here trying to recruit you to her team?” Nailer Tompkins, Rydge’s superior, walked up and cut into their conversation.

  “Not yet,” Sam said sweetly, “although I was just about to make him an offer he can’t refuse.”

  Rydge grinned and sipped his coffee. Travis choked on a swallow of the strong brew.

  Nailer’s face turned red. “Where were you and your men when the first lady was gunned down?”

  “Where were you and yours?” Sam retorted.

  “It was your job to look after her,” Nailer said, accusation in his voice.

  Sam held up a hand in protest. “No, my men and I were there to see Molly remained safe at the dinner party, and escort her to her room when she was ready to leave. We did. Our job was finished once she left the dinner party and entered her room. So I ask again, where were you and your men when she left the White House?”

  Nailer squirmed uncomfortably. “She took the damn emergency exit.”

  “The tunnel?” Travis asked.

  “Yes,” Nailer replied.

  “So why didn’t you have men stationed at the exit?” Sam inquired, rubbing salt in the obvious wound.

  “It’s an emergency exit,” Nailer snapped. “It wasn’t an emergency for the first lady to meet that damn Spaniard.”

  “Huh,” Sam said. “It must have been to her. You want to calm down, Nailer? We’re all on the same side here…aren’t we?”

  Nailer eyed her, a sneer on his thin lips. “I’m on my side. It’s the only one that counts. I suggest we all get seated and pay attention to the film.”

  “You go ahead and suggest,” Sam replied, her voice cold and stiff. “Travis and I will do as we think best.”

  * * * *

  Two hours later, Sam slammed the car door and slapped the dash with the palm of her hand. “Damn idiot, trying to order us around.” Frustration poured through her, internal and hot as steam.

  Travis shoved the key in the ignition, but hesitated to start the engine. “That went well,” he said.

  She supposed it was his attempt to inject some humor in the situation, but he failed miserably. Sam glared at him. “The bastard. Nailer would have liked nothing better than to drop the entire bomb on our doorstep, only he couldn’t quite make it stick.”

  “He tried hard enough, but his failure to post guards at the tunnel exit made him look like the fool he is,” Travis said. “I think you pissed him off with your remark about stealing Rydge.”

  “Ya think? He was looking for an excuse to be mad at me, so I gave him a good one.”

  “You stood up to him just fine, Sam. I think you might have won Rydge over to us.”

  “God, I hope so. He’s wasted with Nailer.”

  “Yeah. We need him. Much as I hate to say it, Duel’s ready to move on. He wants to stay home more and he’s earned that privilege. Montana’s in his blood, and too much is happening there. You’re going to lose him if you don’t cut him some slack.”

  She nodded. “I know.” Sam bit her lower lip. “It’s just that he’s so damn good at his job. Look how quick he broke up that mess in Reno. It would have taken another agent five years, he did it in two.”

  “He’s tired, Sam. He’s been to Iraq four times, plus the casino job and now this. I don’t think he’s been the same since he took that bullet in Iraq. I think he realized then what a dangerous situation you’d have been in if he’d died.”

  “It’s more than that,” she said softly. “He might not recognize it yet, but Duel’s looking for the right woman to settle down with and start a family. When he finds her, I doubt he even gives me notice. Oh, God, Travis, I can’t blame him. I’ve never felt more like walking out on a job in my entire life.”

  “But you won’t,” Travis replied. “Those two ladies need someone on their side. For sure, Nailer isn’t going to help them.”

  “Of course not, he has both Flayme and Jayla in his crosshairs. Someone’s going down for killing Molly. He doesn’t care if that someone is innocent as long as he can show the public and the president that he has the killer. What a–a…”

  “Douche bag?” Travis supplied.

  “That works.”

  “Forget Nailer. You can’t quit, Sam.”

  She frowned. “I know that. I have a daughter to support.”

  “I didn’t mean that. You know I’ll help you with her if you’ll let me.”

  “No. I don’t need or want your help.”

  “Good grief, Sam. She’s my daughter, too.”

  “No, she isn’t. She’s David’s. She has his last name. It’s his name on the birth certificate.”

  Travis swallowed the ache and bit back a sharp retort. In that moment, he felt as if his heart had been ripped out by the roots and tossed aside to wither and die like an unwanted weed. “Why did you do that? It doesn’t make it factual, doesn’t change her blood. She’s my daughter and whether you like it or not, I’m obtaining visitation rights. You’ve shut me out of her life long enough. I’m suing for joint custody.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “I think we both know I can. I don’t want to hurt you or Hayley, but I…” His words trailed away. From the hard look on her face, she didn’t want to hear he loved her.

  “She doesn’t know you, Travis. All you’re going to do is frighten her.”

  “And whose fault is that? I should have been there,” he argued. “I should have been there from her birth to now. I should have been a part of her lif
e and you cheated me out of it, out of the years I would have bonded with my little girl.” He drew a sharp breath and slowly exhaled. “I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that.”

  “I don’t want your forgiveness. I want you to stay out of our lives.”

  “I can’t do that. I won’t do that.”

  “Let’s go,” she snapped.

  Travis pulled into the traffic. “Where are we going?”

  “To Flayme’s house.”

  “Why?”

  “When I talked to Duel, he said her front door was unlocked. Someone was there ahead of him. He might not have had a chance to look things over very well. I wanna look around—see if the intruder left something behind.”

  “Where’s Duel?”

  Sam busied herself prowling through her purse. He wondered what it was she was looking for, then she came up with a stick of strawberry flavored gum, staring at it as if it was a life saver. “I don’t know,” she said, dropping the gum back in her purse.

  Travis decided she wasn’t looking for anything in particular. She was simply occupying her hands and mind.

  “I’m worried about him,” she said. “I should have heard from him by now. I told him not to call, but you know him, he does what he thinks is necessary. I knew he wouldn’t wait for two days. Not hearing from him is worse than him not listening to me. Damn it! I haven’t heard from him since he took off with Flayme.”

  “You don’t know where he took her?” he asked.

  “No. I haven’t a clue. We didn’t want to discuss it over the phones.”

  “Wise, Nailer probably has our lines tapped.”

  “Yes. Well, the one thing the films proved is Jayla’s innocence beyond certainty. Did you see her face? She looked so scared.”

  Travis nodded and gripped the wheel. “It wasn’t all I noted.”

  Sam eyed him. “I know. Even with him wearing a mask, she recognized the killer.”

  Travis turned the car up the on ramp and headed in the direction of Flayme’s home. “Do you think Nailer noticed?”

  “He didn’t act like it, although I saw Rydge’s reaction. He knew. I think Nailer was too busy looking for a way to accuse her to see what was right under his nose.”

  “Do you think it’s possible the president’s involved?” Travis changed lanes and passed a car.

  “What? In Molly’s assassination?” Sam tried to conceal her surprise, but she knew it rang in her voice and Travis was no fool. “Oh, God, I hadn’t even considered it, but yes, I suppose he’d be the number one suspect, especially with his track record.”

  “Rydge will keep as much of John’s extramarital affairs out of the press as possible.”

  “Sure.” Sam nodded. “He’s a good agent, and he’s conscious of the fact that the president’s reputation needs to be squeaky clean, but if he suspects John is involved in Molly’s death, he won’t cover his ass.”

  Travis took the exit ramp and turned the car down Flayme’s street. “Let’s hope not.”

  “He won’t. Duel trained him well. You know he did. Duel isn’t a man who’d conceal anything dirty the president might do that endangers our country. He’d have trained Rydge to be the same way.”

  “Yeah.” Travis turned the car into Flayme’s drive and parked behind the purple Bug. “Yeah, he would.”

  He and Sam forged through the snow up the walk and to the front door. Travis started to take out his lock pick kit when Sam tried the doorknob. The door swung quietly inward. She looked at him, startled, and pressed a finger to her lips.

  Travis nodded his understanding and retrieved his gun from his shoulder holster. They stepped inside the entry hall, weapons drawn. A shadowy figure lunged at them, trying to wiggle his way past the solid wall the two of them made. Travis grunted and punched the assailant in the jaw. The attacker slumped and dropped to the floor moaning.

  Sam flipped on the light switch and stared at the intruder. “What the hell are you doing here?” Then her eyes, turning cold as the icy weather, she snapped, “You damn well better have a good explanation for this.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.

  ~Kahlil Gibran

  Western Australia

  Broome District Hospital

  February 17, Tuesday

  Twenty-four hours of intravenous fluids, small amounts of fruits and liquids, and Taylor decided that although he didn’t feel like a new man, he felt like an improved one and was more than ready to escape the antiseptic and stifling confines of the hospital.

  Being in all that space with no one’s voice except Dianna’s for so many days now left him feeling claustrophobic in his room. Alone, except for an occasional appearance of a nurse, doctor, or some other medical type, he felt more isolated than he’d ever felt in his life.

  God knew the Remingtons were far from friendly, especially Wild—who seemed to pretty much dislike humanity no matter who it was. Taylor finished buttoning his shirt, tucked the tails inside his jeans and stared blankly at the silent television screen. He had to get out of here, out of Australia. He didn’t think he’d ever consider the Dancing Star home, but he did. His sister was there. He wanted to go home.

  And he didn’t want to go home.

  Dianna was here and whether he liked it or not, the woman owned his heart. “She’s better off without you, man. Get on with your life and leave her to hers. She has family here. They’ll look after her.”

  They sure as hell don’t need or want your help!

  Okay. Taylor sucked in a sharp breath and tried to man up, tried not to think about the woman he loved. Hell, he could catch a flight and be back in the States by morning, back at the Dancing Star. He couldn’t stay in Australia. Dianna wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and he couldn’t hover around her.

  Besides, he figured she’d be relieved to have him out of her life, the sooner the better for both of them. He hadn’t seen her since their arrival. He knew she’d been rushed into surgery and he’d heard she’d been given massive doses of antibiotics. Every nurse and doctor who entered his room had been put through a thorough exam of how she was doing until he got the answers he wanted to hear. With time, she’d be okay. It might be all he needed to know, but there was no way in hell he was leaving this hospital before he saw her for himself.

  Taylor eyed the small bandage on the top of his hand. A nurse had stopped by earlier and pulled the IV catheter. She’d presented him with a release form to sign. He was free to leave anytime. Taylor sighed. There was a plane leaving in about three hours. It’d take him to Sydney and from there he’d book a flight home.

  He finished dressing, left his room behind, and stepped into the elevator. “One quick stop and I’m outta here.”

  Taylor punched the button for Surgical ICU. He didn’t know what he would have done if anyone had tried to stop him from seeing Dianna, but the nurse was accommodating and buzzed him in.

  He drew a deep breath, slowly exhaled and entered the tiny cubicle where Dianna was hooked up to all kinds of monitors and tubes with clear fluids flowing into her veins. She was still unconscious, but he’d been told it was induced by drugs.

  God, she was so small in that bed, so pale. Gently, Taylor stroked a finger down the top of her slender hand. “I have to go, baby, back to the Star. I don’t want to leave you, but hell, you don’t need me mucking up your life.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. She didn’t stir, and suddenly, he felt as if he’d already lost her. Tears burned his eyes. He whipped around and headed toward the open doorway. “Good-bye, my love,” he choked.

  Quickly, before he could change his mind, he left the room, hurried from the unit and turned down a hall in time to see Wild bearing down on him.

  Dianna’s brother halted in front of him. “You’re leaving?” he asked.

  “Yes. I think that’d be for the best.”

  Wild’s fierce blue eyes glittered with rage. “Best for w
hom? You’re running away from her.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Wild’s narrowed his gaze. “You said goodbye?”

  “Yes.”

  Taylor didn’t see it coming. He should have, knowing the Remington reputation, but he didn’t. Wild threw the punch so hard and fast, it connected with his jaw in a blurry move that left Taylor skidding across the waxed floor on his ass.

  “Ow!” He slid to a stop and rubbed his jaw. “What the hell was that for?”

  Wild offered him a hand up. Taylor lifted a brow, but figured Dianna’s brother had got whatever the hell was in his system out with that punch. He let the aloof cowboy help him up.

  “It’s for whatever happened between you and my sister out there in the rainforest,” Wild replied, gripping his hand.

  Taylor rubbed his jaw and ignored the pain in his fingers. “What makes you think anything happened between us?”

  “You’re a man and my sister’s a beautiful woman. I know something happened.”

  “It’s none of your business. Dianna’s a grown woman. It’s time you, Jace, and Duel recognized that fact.”

  Wild nodded, his eyes cold. “As long as you didn’t force her.”

  “No. I’d never force Dianna to do anything.”

  “Don’t think we don’t know she’s all grown up. We saw the way you looked at her, Spencer. I know damn well you didn’t keep your grubby paws off her.”

  “My grubby paws?”

  “Okay, I know you didn’t keep your dick in your pants. If she agreed, fine, but like I said, I’ll be asking her questions once she wakes up.”

  “Shit,” Taylor muttered. “Don’t you think that’s between Dianna and me?”

  “I’m sure it was between Dianna and you.” Wild grinned, something quite rare for him, then his face darkened and his eyes narrowed in warning. “I don’t wanna know the details, Spencer, but I’m warning you, if you break my sister’s heart, I won’t stop with one punch next time.”

  “Next time, I’ll be more alert.”