There had to be something she and Peter were missing—a clue, an idea, that would enable them to find Natalie. She needed to spend endless hours with the detective brainstorming, going over every detail of what they already knew.
But another part of her wanted to testify at the trial here in Whitehorn, make certain that the man who had shot Clem paid the price for the horrendous crime.
Dana sighed as she continued her trek.
Kurt would never believe her if she told him she fully intended to be on that witness stand. She’d destroyed his trust in her by her sneaky deed of trying to leave town.
She’d run out of emotional energy as far as staying angry at Kurt for spying on her from the woods was concerned. The man was a trained detective, for crying out loud. Her instant case of the flu had obviously come across as phony as it actually had been, and Kurt had simply followed his fine-tuned instincts.
“I’ve messed up everything,” Dana said aloud.
There would be no more precious memories to keep of the time left to share with Kurt if his anger didn’t cool and his hurt diminish. He was like a statue carved from stone, with no warmth radiating from his blue eyes.
How could she chip away at the man of granite to reveal the true Kurt once again? How could she get him to trust and believe in her once more, to know that she would stay in Whitehorn to testify at the trial?
The only thing that might give her back her Kurt was to tell him the whole story of what Natalie had done. Tell him the complete truth. But she just couldn’t, wouldn’t, do that.
The beep of a horn brought Dana from her troubled thoughts, and she looked over to see a pickup truck stopped in the road.
“Ms. Bailey?” a man said. “J. D. Cade. We met at the library a while back.”
“Oh, yes,” Dana said, halting her step and smiling. “I remember. How are you, J.D.?”
“Fine. Where are you headed?”
“To the library.”
“Would you like a lift, Ms. Bailey? I know your mother probably taught you not to accept rides from strangers, but we’ve been properly introduced.”
“Call me Dana, and I’d be grateful for a ride. These books are getting heavier by the minute.”
Settled in the cab of the truck with a tail-wagging Freeway between them, Dana thanked J.D. again for rescuing her from her it-was-a-crummy-idea walk into town.
“No problem,” J.D. said, smiling. “It’s nice to have company. Freeway isn’t big on conversation.”
“What kind of dog is he?” Dana said, frowning slightly at the furry creature.
J.D. shrugged. “Beats me. That’s a mystery never to be solved.”
“What about the mystery of those strange happenings out at the ranch where you work? Do you think you’ll solve that?”
“We’d better. We can’t keep hands on the payroll for long, because they get spooked, come to believe the spread is haunted by ghosts, or spirits, or some such thing. Believe me, it’s very frustrating to have these episodes taking place right under our noses and not be able to catch anyone in the act.”
“What do they hope to accomplish by this nonsense?” Dana said.
“I don’t know. Shut down the Kincaid ranch? But why? It’s owned by a three-year-old angel named Jennifer. Man, that is one cute little girl.”
“Well, no one could have a grudge against a three-year-old baby,” Dana said. “The whole thing doesn’t make any sense.”
“Tell me about it,” J.D. said. “The tension out at the ranch gets worse every day. It’s a lot for the foreman, Rand Harding, to deal with.” He paused. “There’s the library, just up ahead.”
“I appreciate the taxi service.”
Just as J.D. parked in front of the library, Judd Hensley and Travis Bains came down the sidewalk together. Judd introduced Travis to Dana as the quartet stood on the sidewalk.
“You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to meeting you,” Travis said to Dana.
“Oh, well, thank you,” Dana said, rather surprised at Travis’s gushy words.
“Kurt and I grew up together,” Travis said. “We’re still best friends.”
“Oh, I see,” Dana said, smiling. “Then you must be pleased that he has decided to stay on in Whitehorn permanently.”
“Everyone is tickled about it,” Travis said. “Kurt is a good man. The best. Top of the line.”
“What are you, Travis?” Judd said. “Kurt Noble’s public relations director?”
“I’m just chatting,” Travis said, grinning.
“Whatever,” Judd said. “How’s it going at the ranch, J.D.?”
“The same,” J.D. said. “The men are tense and edgy, and Rand is trying to hold things together. I’m making a quick trip into town to get a toy, or book, for Jennifer. She’s down with a cold.”
“Yeah, I heard,” Judd said. “My wife was talking to Jessica McCallum. Baby Jennifer has apparently been under the weather a lot lately.”
“All little kids get sick from time to time,” Travis said. “J.D., just what is that thing in the cab of your truck?”
“Shh,” Dana said, smiling. “Freeway is very sensitive about his looks. He wants to be appreciated for his heart of gold.”
The four laughed, enjoying a carefree moment on a warm, sunny Montana afternoon in early June.
Kurt left the Hip Hop Café after having a late lunch and started down the sidewalk to return to the police station. The sound of laughter reached him, and he registered the thought that he envied anyone who was in such a chipper mood. As he walked farther, he saw the foursome who were so thoroughly enjoying themselves.
That was Dana, he thought incredulously. Dana Bailey was surrounded by J. D. Cade, Judd and Travis, and a good time was being had by all. Dana looked like a queen bee being paid homage by her loyal and fawning subjects.
How had Dana gotten into town? And what did she have to be so all-fired happy about? She obviously wasn’t broken up over the fact that the two of them weren’t even on speaking terms at the moment.
Travis and Judd were married men, but J. D. Cade was not. Yeah, sure, he’d liked what he saw of J.D. so far, but for all he knew, Cade was a randy cowboy on the prowl.
Kurt quickened his step. J. D. Cade had better prowl somewhere else, he thought, because, by damn, Dana Bailey was Kurt Noble’s lady!
Thirteen
Before Kurt could reach the group he was striding toward, they dispersed. Judd and Travis started across the street, J.D. got into his truck and turned the key in the ignition, and Dana began to stroll up the sidewalk leading to the library.
“Dana,” Kurt yelled, “hold up!”
Dana stopped and turned as Kurt sprinted toward her, a deep scowl on his face.
Uh-oh, she thought. She felt like a mouse who had escaped from its cage and had just gotten caught. Detective Noble was obviously not a happy man.
Kurt stopped in front of Dana and planted his hands on his hips.
“What are you doing here?” he said gruffly. “How did you get into town? Do you enjoy being surrounded by panting men?”
“Well, now, let’s see here,” Dana said pleasantly, tapping one fingertip against her chin. “I’m returning library books. I was walking, then J.D. gave me a ride. Judd, Travis and J.D. weren’t panting, they were laughing, and, yes, I enjoyed their cheerful company.”
“Mmm,” Kurt said.
Dana raised her eyebrows. “Anything else? Oh, I left a note on my door at the motel informing you as to exactly where I was.”
“Oh.” Kurt ran one hand over the back of his neck. “You accepted a ride from J. D. Cade? Did he make a move on you?”
“He was a perfect gentleman, and you are beginning to sound like a jealous lover, which isn’t very becoming.”
“I sound like a jealous…” Kurt paused. “You’re right, I do. Classy, huh? Maturity to the maximum.”
“About as classy and mature as my panic-driven attempt to leave town in the middle of the night,” Dana sai
d. “I do believe we’re even.”
“What about the issue of trust?” Kurt said quietly.
Dana sighed. “Can’t we just leave that alone, Kurt? I don’t want to be fighting with you during the time we have left together. I’m sorry I tried to leave Whitehorn. You’re sorry you just acted like a jealous jerk.”
“Well, I will have to stay very close to you,” he said, a slow smile beginning to creep across his face. “You know, in case you get another one of those panic attacks and decide to split.”
“Good idea,” Dana said, matching his smile.
“So here we are again, having mended fences. All that’s left to do is kiss and make up.”
“In the middle of downtown Whitehorn? Bad plan. Everyone will know that Kurt Noble kissed Dana Bailey on the sidewalk leading to the library. Tongues will wag. Gossip will buzz through the air like busy bees.”
“Guaranteed, because Lily Mae Wheeler is coming this way. She’s a better broadcaster than the six o’clock news on television.”
“And you still intend to kiss me?” Dana said.
“Absolutely,” Kurt said, grinning. “That will deliver my message to J. D. Cade, and any other guy who might be offering you rides in their trucks, or whatever.”
Dana laughed. “You’re terrible.”
“No,” Kurt said, framing her face in his hands, “I’m just protecting what’s mine.”
Then he lowered his head and kissed her.
Mine, Dana’s mind hummed, as she savored the taste and feel of Kurt’s lips on hers. She was his. He was hers. They were together. Yes.
Kurt raised his head slowly, reluctantly.
“I think I’d better stop kissing you now,” he said, his voice slightly gritty, “before I give Lily Mae more of a show than I intended.” He took a step backward. “There goes Lily Mae, hustling into the Hip Hop like her britches were on fire.”
“I repeat,” Dana said, smiling, “you’re terrible.”
“Do you mind that the whole town knows we’re involved with each other, having a relationship, an affair, a tryst, a—?”
“Enough.” Dana laughed and shook her head. “No, I don’t mind, but you’re the one who is going to live here after I…” Her smile faded. “Erase that. Let’s just enjoy the time we have.”
“Yeah, well…” Kurt sighed. “Okay, look, you go do your thing at the library, then come over to the police station. We’ll cook dinner out at my place tonight, all right?”
“Perfect.”
Kurt dropped a quick kiss on Dana’s lips.
“See ya.”
“Bye, Kurt.”
Dana watched Kurt as he strode away. She simply stood there and drank in the sight of his masculine, loose-hipped way of walking, his broad shoulders and powerful legs.
Mine, she mentally repeated. For now, Kurt Noble is mine and, oh, heavens, that’s a glorious feeling.
Kurt was smiling when he entered the police station, and he had a definite spring in his step.
“What are they serving at the Hip Hop today, Kurt?” a uniformed officer said. “Happy gas?”
“I’ll never tell,” Kurt said, not breaking stride, “but Lily Mae will.”
He went into his office, sat down in his chair and picked up a pink message slip that Kimberly had placed in the center of his desk. As he read what Kim had written, a cold chill replaced the warmth that had consumed him.
Kurt sank back in the chair and stared at the paper. He was to call Detective Bonner of the Chicago police force, who was returning Kurt’s telephone inquiry.
Kurt let out a pent-up breath and stared at the ceiling for a long moment, before looking at the pink slip again.
This was it, he thought. Truth time. Lord, he wished he had a magic wand, could place the words he wanted to hear in Detective Bonner’s mouth before the cop spoke.
He’d have Bonner say that Dana Bailey had skipped on a badly overdrawn checking account and several maxed-out credit cards. No big deal, but enough for the authorities to want to find her and slap her with a fine.
Kurt nodded.
Yeah, that was the nightmare Natalie had created. She’d used Dana’s checks and credit cards and the cops thought Dana was the guilty party. Messy, but fixable. End of story.
“Hear me thinking, Bonner,” Kurt said, under his breath. “Don’t blow your lines.”
Fifteen minutes later, Kurt’s shoulder throbbed with a steady pain from his having tensed every muscle in his body. A cold knot twisted in his gut and his knuckles were white from his tight hold on the telephone receiver.
“Yeah, it is big-time,” he said. “Selling insider trading information is the yuppie crime of the decade that gets people a nice stretch in the slam….
“Dana Bailey? No, she’s…she’s long gone. She came through Whitehorn several weeks ago and… I don’t know, she acted edgy, nervous. I couldn’t get her off of my mind, so I thought I’d check her out, since I’d noticed her Illinois license plate. I started with you guys in Chicago….
“Nope, sorry, I don’t have a clue as to where she was headed…. Sure, I’ll keep my eyes open, but I doubt she’d double back through here. We’re just a dot on the map…. You bet. Thanks, and good luck, Bonner.”
Kurt replaced the receiver with a visibly shaking hand, then leaned his head back on the top of the chair and closed his eyes.
Ah, Dana, his mind screamed, no! It was a sick rerun of what had happened in Seattle, déjà vu in its cruelest form.
Kurt opened his eyes and lunged forward, hitting the desk with one fist and causing a white-hot pain to shoot up his arm and sear his damaged shoulder.
God, what a fool he’d been…again, he fumed. He’d fallen for Dana’s phony spiel about her twin sister having created the famous nightmare Dana was caught up in. For all he knew, Dana didn’t even have a twin. Even if there was a sister named Natalie, it didn’t make sense that she would have had ready access to the information Dana had illegally sold.
Dana Bailey was guilty as sin.
And he’d fallen for her sob story, hook, line and sinker. He’d been suckered in by big blue eyes and womanly arms beckoning to him to come to her, make love to her, declare her to be his lady.
No wonder Dana had been shook up when her whereabouts was revealed in that Billings newspaper story. The Chicago cops were combing the country for her.
But Ms. Bailey was a sharp cookie. Hooking up with a cop in Whitehorn had given her an inside track as far as knowing whether Judd Hensley had been contacted about Dana Bailey, fugitive from the law, was concerned.
Kurt sighed. It was a weary-sounding sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul.
It had all been a calculated plan to Dana, a means to an end. She didn’t give a rip about him as a man, a major player in her life. He was nothing more than a potential source of information as to whether or not the cops had picked up her trail.
“Damn it,” Kurt said, getting to his feet.
He stared at the telephone, his eyes narrowed.
Why hadn’t he told Detective Bonner that Dana Bailey was in Whitehorn, Montana? Why hadn’t he turned her in, agreed to keep her in custody in jail until Bonner could fly in and take her back to Chicago? He’d had the opportunity to blow the whistle on Dana, but he hadn’t done it. Why?
Kurt nodded.
He knew why. He wanted a chance to confront Dana with her tower of lies. The last time he allowed his emotions to dictate his actions, he’d ended up with a bullet in his shoulder as he lay unconscious on the floor in a pool of his own blood.
This time, by damn, he was going to square off against the woman who had used him for her own selfish purposes. He would have closure, the last word, the means to shut the emotional door and walk away.
Maybe, just maybe, the pain of Dana’s betrayal wouldn’t last forever, wouldn’t haunt him into infinity.
Kurt strode out of his office, told Kimberly he was done for the day, then left the police station. When he arrived on the s
idewalk, he saw Dana approaching.
Each step she took to close the distance between them seemed to strike him like a physical blow.
That wasn’t Dana coming to meet him. It wasn’t his Dana, who had brought sunshine and laughter into his life, helped change his shabby house into a warm and welcoming home, who had traveled with him to burst upon the wondrous wildflowers when they made love.
The woman who had just waved and quickened her step was a stranger. A liar. A criminal on the run from the law. A user. A person who had toyed with his emotions, played with him as if he were a marionette, jumping as she jerked the strings.
She wasn’t remotely close to who he had believed her to be.
And, Lord, that hurt.
“Hi, hi, hi,” Dana called.
She ran the last twenty feet separating them and stopped in front of Kurt, a smile on her face, her blue eyes sparkling.
“Look what I found at that little gift shop down the street,” she said, pulling an object from a sack. “It’s a tiny shadow box that will be perfect for the figurine of the kittens that you gave me. I’m so tickled with it. Isn’t it pretty?”
“Mmm,” Kurt said.
“In my purse is a gigantic novel I checked out of the library, too. It ought to keep me out of trouble.”
“It’s a bit late for that thought, isn’t it?” Kurt said, a rough edge to his voice.
Dana frowned. “What on earth is wrong, Kurt? You’ve certainly changed moods since we parted in front of the library.”
“That was a lifetime ago. Come on, let’s go to the motel. You and I are going to have a chat.”
“But…”
“Now, Dana.”
Kurt turned and started toward where his vehicle was parked. Dana followed, totally confused.
In Dana’s room at the motel, she sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at Kurt questioningly. He grabbed one of the chairs by the table and set it about three feet in front of her. Straddling it backward, he layered his arms on the top of the back.
Wife Most Wanted Page 16
