Wife Most Wanted

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Wife Most Wanted Page 12

by Joan Elliott Pickart


  “Parts from one of the tractors had been carefully removed, then laid on the ground in a circle a hundred yards away. Nothing was damaged. Everything was there in that damnable circle.

  “It gave me the creeps. It looked like some kind of ritual…you know, a witch’s circle, or whatever. Some of the hands out there are really spooked. I bet a couple more of them up and quit on Rand Harding. J. D. Cade was doing his best to help Rand calm those guys down, but…” Kurt shrugged.

  “Were there any clues, any evidence at all that we can work with?” Judd said.

  “Nothing. The tractor parts were wiped clean. The ground was too trampled for any clear footprints. It’s just like all the other crazy stuff that has been going on out there. It was carefully executed to give the impression that ghosts, or spirits, or something, are haunting the Kincaid spread.”

  “Why?” Judd said, smacking the top of his desk with the palm of one hand. “Who is doing this and why? We can’t even figure out the motive, let alone who’s behind it. Damn, this is frustrating.”

  “Yeah, it is. Rand said that Sterling McCallum refuses to fold, won’t be beaten by this nonsense. He’s not shutting down the ranch.”

  “Good for him,” Judd said, nodding. “I just wish we were doing a better job for him. We can’t patrol a ranch that size and be effective. Besides, we never know where or when the scum will hit. They move all over the spread with no set pattern.”

  “I know. Things are very tense out there.”

  “I can imagine.” Judd shook his head. “Well, write up a report on what you found and put it in the file with all the others. There’s nothing else we can do at this point. Something better break on this…soon.”

  Kurt nodded, but remained seated.

  “Have you got a minute, Judd?” he said.

  “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

  “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since I was shot, since I’ve been home here in Whitehorn. Taking a bullet makes a man look at who he is, where he’s going, what he wants.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “I’m not going back on duty in Seattle, Judd. I’ve had enough of the cloak-and-dagger undercover-cop crap. I’m resigning from the Seattle police force.”

  “I’ll be damned,” Judd said, smiling. “I thought you were itching to get back there, to all the excitement and danger. Hell, your life was like one of those cop shows on television.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m turning off the television set. I’ve had enough.” Kurt paused. “I know Dakota is returning to duty after her maternity leave. The bottom-line question is, do you have room on your force here for me on a permanent basis?”

  “You want to stay in Whitehorn?” Judd said, surprise evident on his face.

  Kurt nodded. “Yes, I do. I want to be a part of my niece and nephew’s lives as they’re growing up, and spend time with my sister and brother-in-law. I want more in my life than just being a cop.”

  “Like a wife and family?” Judd said, still smiling. “Hearth and home?”

  Yes! Kurt thought. A wife. Babies. A real home, filled with warmth and love.

  “Maybe,” he said, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “So? What do you think?”

  “I think you’re reading my mind,” Judd said. “I had coffee with Dakota this morning. She has decided she only wants part-time duty when she comes back. She’s not prepared to give up her career entirely, but she doesn’t feel she can do justice to being a wife, mother and full-time cop. She prefers to trim down her work hours here.”

  “And?”

  “And I have enough money in the budget to hire you on full-time, with Dakota at part-time. Okay? Is this a done deal?”

  Kurt got to his feet. “It is.”

  Judd rose and extended his hand. “Welcome home, Kurt. It’s good to know you’re staying on, instead of just dropping by.”

  “Thanks, Judd,” Kurt said, shaking the sheriff’s hand. “I appreciate it.”

  “Hello, hello,” Kimberly said, bustling into the office.

  “Kim,” Judd said, “get together the paperwork to sign Kurt up as a permanent member of the police force and sheriff’s department of Whitehorn, Montana.”

  “Really?” Kim said. “Oh, that’s so super.” She frowned. “What paperwork?”

  “It’s in the tall filing cabinet,” Judd said.

  “It is? Well, I’ll find it. Why did I come in here? Oh! Yes! Look at this newspaper from Billings. There’s a story about Whitehorn, about Clem being shot and Dana Bailey staying on to testify at the trial and… We made the big-city newspaper. Can you believe that? How do you suppose they found out about an attempted holdup of a convenience store way out here?”

  “Let me see that,” Kurt said.

  Kimberly handed him the newspaper, and Kurt read the story quickly.

  “All the details,” he said. “My guess is that the reporter came through here.”

  “And bumped into Lily Mae Wheeler,” Kimberly said, laughing.

  “That would do it, all right,” Judd said, chuckling. “Well, consider that inch of newsprint Whitehorn’s fifteen minutes of fame.”

  “May I keep this paper, Kim?” Kurt said, frowning.

  “Sure.”

  “What’s wrong, Kurt?” Judd said. “You don’t look too pleased about that story being in the paper.”

  “It’s rather complicated,” Kurt said, “and I’d rather not get into it right now, but I think Dana Bailey should see this.”

  “But why—?” Judd said. Then his telephone rang. He snatched up the receiver

  “It’s time to go home,” Kimberly said, “but I’d better go find that paperwork for you, Kurt, before I forget.” She hurried from the room.

  Kurt followed Kimberly out of Judd’s office, not wishing to be pressed by the sheriff about the newspaper story and Kurt’s obvious lack of information regarding his concern about it.

  If truth be known, Kurt thought, studying the newspaper as he walked slowly back to his own office, he wasn’t all that certain himself why the story had caused a tight knot to twist in his gut.

  He entered his office, sat down at his desk and spread out the newspaper, scowling as he stared at it.

  Dana was attempting to locate her missing sister, Natalie, he thought. Natalie had done something that had caused problems, trouble, for Dana. Anyone who read the Billings newspaper story now knew exactly where Dana was located.

  Was that bad?

  Would Dana be upset when she saw the paper, or shrug it off as unimportant?

  Would Dana, now, after all they’d shared, finally tell him the complete truth about what was going on?

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Kurt said, getting to his feet.

  He picked up the newspaper and strode out of his office, his jaw set in a tight, hard line.

  Ten

  Kurt frowned as he drove into the parking lot of the Whitehorn Motel and saw an empty parking place in front of Dana’s room.

  Had Dana gone out to dinner? he wondered, turning the vehicle around.

  He pressed on the brake and folded his arms on top of the steering wheel as he considered his options.

  He could wait there for Dana to return. She’d made it clear that she wouldn’t be engaging in any lengthy conversations with anyone in town who might ask her personal and probing questions. She shouldn’t be gone longer than it took to eat a meal.

  Or he could cruise the streets looking for her car, starting by checking at the Hip Hop. He might even join her for dinner, if he found her in time.

  “Wait a minute,” he said aloud, straightening in the seat.

  Dana had planned to paint his living room today. Was she still at his house, slaving over a bucket of smelly paint?

  With a mental shrug, Kurt drove out of the parking lot, made one trip through town looking for Dana’s car, which he didn’t find, then headed for home.

  Dana stepped out of the shower in the bathroom in Kurt’s house and dried herself with a thin
towel. After running her fingers through her freshly shampooed hair, she wrapped another towel around her to create a rather skimpy sarong.

  She’d have sworn she’d gotten as much paint on herself as she had rolled onto the living room walls and ceiling, she thought with a smile. She’d practically turned herself into a living statue in Navajo white. But she was pleased with her novice efforts as a housepainter. The living room looked splendid.

  And now she was squeaky-clean, and her clothes should be ready to be transferred from the washing machine to the dryer. She’d tossed in her bra and panties for good measure. The small load of wash shouldn’t take too long to dry, and she’d be dressed again before Kurt arrived home.

  Humming softly, Dana left the steamy bathroom and padded barefoot down the hall.

  “Oh, my God!” she yelled, when she entered the living room.

  Kurt was standing just inside the front door.

  “What are you doing here?” she said, still set on full volume.

  “I live here, remember?” Kurt said.

  He slid his gaze over Dana, slowly, very slowly, from the top of her head to the tip of her toes, then retracing the visual journey.

  “Stop that.” Dana tucked the corner of the towel more firmly into place. “You’re undressing me with yours eyes, you cad.”

  Kurt chuckled. “Cad? That’s good, very Victorian. As for undressing you with my eyes you’re right. However, if I’m going to do something, I like to give it my maximum effort. Therefore, I’m going to come over there and remove that towel with my hands.”

  “Don’t you dare,” Dana said, pointing one finger at him. “Oops,” she added as the towel began to slip down. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon. I was covered in paint, you see, so I took a shower and washed my hair. My clothes are in the washing machine, and I need to put them in the dryer so they can… Darn it, Kurt, quit staring at me.”

  “Okay, I’ll quit staring at you.”

  Kurt started across the room toward her, his gaze locked with hers.

  A sleek panther, Dana thought giddily. That was what Kurt looked like. He was moving with that lazy grace of his, that masculine, loose-hipped way he had, and he was coming for her, the prey.

  A chill coursed through Dana. The shiver was caused partly by the dropping temperature of the evening air. And partly by a flicker of trepidation as Kurt came closer and closer. And partly by anticipation and excitement, with the added wish that he’d hurry up and get there.

  Kurt stopped directly in front of her, his eyes having changed from blue to smoky gray, radiating desire, searing her skin like licking flames.

  “Do…do you like how the room looks freshly painted?” Dana said, hardly recognizing the breathy sound of her own voice.

  “Mmm,” Kurt said, his eyes riveted on hers. “You did a fantastic job. It’s nice, very nice, looks bigger. The room appears twice as big.”

  “Yes, I noticed that myself. That it seemed bigger. The room. I covered all the furniture with tarps. The floor, too. I was the only casualty, as far as getting splattered with paint.”

  “But now the paint is washed away and your skin is moist, like it’s shimmering with morning dew,” Kurt said, his voice seeming to drop an octave. “Dew on a soft petal of a lovely flower.”

  “Oh, good Lord,” Dana said, her knees beginning to tremble. “Kurt, if you don’t kiss me or something, I’m going to dissolve into a heap on the floor.”

  He brushed his lips over hers.

  “Let’s go for the ‘or something.’”

  “Good idea,” Dana whispered.

  “Mmm.”

  Several hours later, Dana was dressed in her clean, dry clothes. She and Kurt sat at the kitchen table, finishing a dinner of scrambled eggs and toast.

  They’d left the front and back doors open, with the screen doors closed, to keep out the bugs while allowing the crisp breeze to whisk away the lingering odor of paint. Crickets serenaded them while they ate.

  Minnie, Mickey and Mouse had been fed and were snoozing in their box by the back door.

  Well, Noble? Kurt thought. How long are you going to postpone showing Dana the newspaper from Billings?

  He sighed inwardly.

  The newspaper was still in the pocket of his sport coat, where he’d tossed it over a chair in the bedroom. For two cents, he’d leave it right there, do nothing to spoil these fantastic hours he was spending with Dana.

  When she entered the living room clad in nothing more than that scrap of damp, clinging towel, desire had exploded within him. To him, she had looked more beautiful, more tantalizing and alluring, than any woman who might be wearing a fancy, expensive dress for a night on the town.

  The room had been a jumbled mess of tarp-covered furniture, paint buckets, brushes, rollers and trays.

  The room had been a field of wildflowers.

  The heavy odor of paint had hung in the air.

  Dana had smelled like fresh air, sunshine, soap and woman.

  His woman.

  His Dana.

  And they’d made love. Exquisite love, beautiful love, among the fragrant flowers that were theirs alone to share.

  But now? It was reality-check time. He had to come down out of the sensual, yet contented, cloud he was still hovering in and produce the damnable newspaper story for Dana to read.

  “So what do you think?” Dana said. “Should I paint the… Kurt?”

  “What?”

  “Are you awake?” she said, smiling.

  “Judd asked me something like that today, too. He wanted to know if he was keeping me from my nap. I simply told him that I hadn’t gotten much sleep last night because I’d spent hours making love with you.”

  “Oh, you did not say that.” Dana’s eyes widened. “Did you?”

  “No,” he said, laughing.

  “One never knows what men might divulge to each other when in their male-bonding mode,” Dana said, wrinkling her nose. “It’s very weird.”

  “You’re an expert on male bonding, are you?”

  “I read a lot.”

  “Mmm. Actually, I was in Judd’s office to report on what I’d discovered out at the Kincaid ranch and to…well, to ask him if he had room on the force to hire me on permanently.”

  Dana opened her mouth to respond to what Kurt had said, then stopped and shook her head before trying again.

  “I was actually speechless for a moment there,” she said. “I thought that was just something people said in the movies, but it didn’t really happen. You’re going to quit the Seattle police force? Move back here, live in Whitehorn?”

  “Yes.”

  Dana sank back in her chair and stared at Kurt with wide eyes.

  “My goodness,” she said, “that is quite an announcement to make out of the blue.”

  “You’re not the only one who has changed, Dana, who wants more out of life than what there was before. Like you, I had to step away from my existence to see how empty it was, how…how lonely it was.”

  “And this more that you want? You believe that it’s in Whitehorn?”

  “Well, it’s a start. I have family here.”

  “Yes, that’s true,” she said, nodding. “I envy you that.”

  Kurt pushed his plate away and folded his arms on the top of the table.

  “Dana, you asked me if I thought a person could have it all…be married, have children, a career. I said I believed it could be done if the major players really worked at it together. Well, I want it all, the whole nine yards.”

  A warmth suffused Dana, tiptoeing first around her heart, then filling her entire being to overflowing. It wasn’t the heat of simmering desire, not this time. It was the warm flush of ultimate joy, of sudden happiness that was like nothing, nothing, she’d felt before.

  Oh, Dana, don’t, she admonished herself quickly. That she and Kurt wished to change the course of their lives, were viewing the same path as being where they wished to go, didn’t mean they were going to travel that road together.<
br />
  That wouldn’t happen, it couldn’t. She had to leave Whitehorn, find Natalie, clear her name of the criminal charges hanging over her head.

  And if Natalie couldn’t be found? Dear God, she didn’t even want to consider such a horrible possibility. She’d be in jail, having been convicted of a crime she had not committed.

  Oh, how glorious it would be to pour out her troubles to Kurt, share the nightmare, lean on him a bit for comfort and support. But she wouldn’t do that to him. It wasn’t fair. The dilemma she was in was hers to solve, to set to rights. Kurt deserved better than to be dragged through the ugly mud that Natalie had created.

  She would leave Whitehorn, Montana. Kurt would remain in Whitehorn, Montana. He’d marry a woman, maybe someone he’d grown up with, and they’d have babies. Would they live in this house? Fix it up, so pretty and perfect? Walk hand in hand over the surrounding land and pick a vibrant bouquet of wildflowers?

  She hated it. The scenario she was envisioning in her mind of Kurt and another woman was more than she could bear. She was being selfish, she knew it, but right now she didn’t care. For the remaining days and lovemaking nights that she had left in this town, Kurt Noble was hers.

  “Well,” she said, producing a small smile, “I wish you every best, Kurt. I hope you fulfill your hopes, your dreams. My, my, isn’t it great that I painted the living room? Since you’ll be staying on here, it will be nice to have a sparkly-clean front room, don’t you think? What about the kitchen? Should I tackle that next, or—”

  “Dana…”

  “No,” she said, getting to her feet. “Whatever you were going to say…just don’t. I’m attempting to be so sophisticated and mature, handle all this, and I’m hanging on by a thread. I care for you, Kurt, so very much, but I’m not free to think about anything except finding Natalie.”

  “Then let me help you do that,” he said, his voice rising.

  “No, no, no,” she said, shaking her head. “You mustn’t become involved in this.”

  “Why not?” He shoved back his chair and got to his feet. “I care for you, too. You know that, don’t you? Ah, hell, of course you do. We could work together on this mess you’re in, then see where we’re headed, or not headed, without whatever your nightmare is hovering over us.”

 

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