“I watched for him for days, then weeks that turned into months. I finally had to accept the fact that he wasn’t coming back. The hardest part, Dana, was that I didn’t know why.”
“Oh, Kurt, I’m so sorry.”
“The point of this story is that in this thing called life there are some questions that never get answered. Don’t drive yourself nuts, torment yourself, asking why Natalie is doing this to you. Accept the fact that she is doing it, and find a place to put it. Understand?”
“Yes. Yes, I do. Thank you, Kurt. What you just shared with me helped a great deal.”
What he’d shared? Kurt’s mind echoed. What he wanted to share with Dana was the rest of his life. Later, Noble. This was not the time to declare his love for Dana, ask her to marry him. She had enough on her emotional plate to deal with. Once this mess was behind them, though, he’d…
“Kurt?” Dana said, bringing him from his thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“Why did you ask me if Natalie was impressed by my possessions?”
“It’s a hunch and a hope. I’d like to get Pete Parker’s input on it, but I’m thinking that Natalie just might get antsy, want to gloat over her new worldly goods. I want her to go to your apartment.”
“But the police are probably watching my place.”
“For Dana Bailey to show up. Natalie would go as herself. The cops don’t want her, but we do.”
Dana sighed and pressed her fingertips to her temples. “A nightmare. It’s all an awful, unbelievable nightmare.”
“Yes, it is, but you’re not alone anymore. Remember that, okay? I’m right here with you, and we’ll see this through to its proper end together. Together, Dana.”
“Yes, and I’m so grateful for that, for you. Thank you, Kurt.” Dana paused. “Could we go for a walk, stroll through those pretty wildflowers beyond the house?”
Kurt frowned. “No. It’s too open in that area, with enough trees edging it to give someone cover.”
“Dear heaven, do you believe they’re out there right now, waiting, watching for an opportunity to shoot me?”
“I don’t know, but we’re playing this very safe, close to the cuff. Stay inside the house, and away from the windows.”
“I hate this, Kurt.”
“With just cause. It will all be over soon. I’m going to have a soda. Want one?”
“No thanks.”
Dana watched as Kurt crossed the living room and disappeared into the kitchen, his words echoing in her mind.
It will all be over soon.
All and everything, she thought. The nightmare created by Natalie would end. The trial would be held, and she would testify, seek justice for Clem. She’d leave Whitehorn, Montana, return to Chicago and the life she led there. She’d never see Kurt Noble again.
It would all be over soon.
But not the ache in her heart for Kurt. Not the empty days and long, lonely nights without him. Not the fanciful images in her mind of standing by Kurt’s side as they watched their children romp in the wildflowers beyond their home.
For Dana knew that, despite the turmoil and upset, the unknowns about the future due to Natalie’s actions, the fear, the horror of realizing there were people out there who wanted her dead, despite it all, her heart had been stronger than the oppression.
Her heart had soared above the darkness and danger. Her heart sang the ageless song of lovers.
Because, oh, yes, she was deeply and irrevocably in love with Kurt Noble.
But he would never know the depths of her feelings for him.
What was the point of telling him? she thought dismally. If, when, her innocence was proved, she’d return to her world, while Kurt remained in Whitehorn. There was no call for a corporate attorney in this tiny Montana town. Her career demanded that she live in a big city.
Oh, Dana, stop it, she admonished herself. She was mentally babbling. Just because she’d admitted to herself that she’d fallen in love with Kurt, that certainly didn’t mean that he was in love with her.
She’d do well to stay firmly grounded in reality. They had to find Natalie. And, as incredible as it was, she, Dana Bailey, had to stay in the house, away from the windows, so that she wouldn’t be killed by a bullet fired from a gun held in the hand of an enemy beyond those walls.
“I really, really hate this,” she said, then drew a steadying breath.
A little after ten o’clock that night, Dana emerged from the bathroom in her nightshirt, then decided she wanted a glass of milk.
When she entered the living room, she was surprised to see that Kurt was talking on the telephone. She stopped and wrapped her hands around her elbows as she listened to his side of the conversation.
“I knew it,” Kurt said into the receiver. He punched one fist in the air. “That’s exactly how I had Natalie pegged…. Absolutely. You stay put and watch that apartment like a hawk, Pete. She’s going to jump the gun, no doubt about it…. Yeah, I realize she’s home free if she appears as Natalie, but don’t lose her, whatever you do….
“There has to be something in this mess that we’re missing, that will prove that Natalie impersonated Dana…. Oh, I agree with you. The big boys can’t be happy that Natalie is prancing around while there’s unfinished business like Dana still breathing. They don’t take kindly to the left hand not following the right hand’s orders. Right. Keep in touch, step by step…. Yep. See ya, Pete.”
Kurt hung up the receiver, then got to his feet, smiling when he saw Dana.
“That was your sharp detective, Ms. Bailey. Natalie used your charge card to buy a fancy bracelet in one store in Chicago, and a slew of clothes in another. She’s not being a patient person, as far as reaping the rewards of her nefarious deeds. She…”
Kurt’s voice trailed off as he stared at Dana. Her eyes were as wide as saucers and her lips formed an astonished “Oh”.
“Dana?” he said. “What’s wrong?”
“That’s it,” she whispered.
“Huh?”
“That’s it!” she yelled, flinging out her arms.
“Huh?”
Dana rushed across the room to grip Kurt’s upper arms, her eyes dancing with excitement.
“What you just said about the left hand and right hand, Kurt. That’s the key, the proof of my innocence.”
“It’s a figure of speech, a cliché, or whatever,” he said, frowning. “You’ve lost me here.”
“Listen to me. There was a security system installed in my office complex, with cameras in every room. They didn’t work properly, and the bosses were waiting for the company to come back and repair them. Todd said that only one camera actually worked. The one in my office recorded Natalie wearing my clothes, accessing the computer and printing out the material the night it was given to the people who hired her.”
“This is good news?”
“Yes! Oh, where has my brain been? Kurt, when Natalie and I were ten years old, she fell out of a tree and broke her right arm very badly. She had to use her left hand for everything for several months. When her arm healed, she refused to switch back to her right hand, saying being left-handed made her different from me, and she liked it.”
Kurt nodded. “Go on.”
“Natalie doesn’t do hardly anything with her right hand after all these years. When I was showing her how to use my computer at the office, she had to reach across the keyboard to turn it on. She also switched the mouse to the left side of the desk. She lifted the papers from the printer with her left hand. Don’t you see what I’m getting at?”
Kurt grabbed her shoulders and gave her a fast, hard kiss.
“Dynamite,” he said, smiling. “You’re sensational. That’s proof enough for Bonner to haul Natalie in and grill her. He’ll have to follow through on your claim that your twin sister was impersonating you. He’ll have to. Hey, we’re rounding third and heading for home.”
“I should have thought of it sooner. I…”
“Shh.” Kurt wrapped his ar
ms around her and pulled her close. “All that matters is that we’ve got the evidence we need to prove your innocence.
“I’ll call Pete back right now and fill him in. We both figure that Natalie is going to show up at your apartment soon. Pete will know where she is, so the cops can pick her up. I’ll phone Bonner in the morning and explain it all to him from the top.”
“But you’ll get in trouble, Kurt, because you’ve been keeping the fact that I’m here in Montana from Detective Bonner.”
“It’ll be fine when the dust settles. Give me ten minutes on the telephone with Pete, then we’re going to celebrate.”
“Oh?” Dana said, smiling. “Are we going dancing, then having champagne served at our table?”
“No, we’re celebrating a little closer to home. Right down that hall, in the bedroom.”
“Do tell.”
“No, ma’am, I prefer show, not tell, remember? Go. I’ll be there in ten—make that five—minutes.” He dropped a quick kiss on her lips.
Dana was smiling as she slipped back onto the bed, not bothering to reach for the sheet. But then her smile faded.
It was almost over, she thought. The nightmare was almost over. They had all the pieces to the puzzle now, and it was just a matter of putting them together to spell out the crystal-clear message that she was innocent of any wrongdoing.
It will all be over soon.
Kurt’s words echoed in her mind, and a chill swept throughout her. She should be bouncing on the bed like a cheerleader, rejoicing in the knowledge that the light at the end of the long, dark tunnel was finally glowing brighter and brighter. She was relieved, and very grateful, that there was now proof positive that Natalie had committed the crime in question.
But…
It will all be over soon.
She pressed her fingertips to her lips.
Yes, it would. Be over. All and everything she’d shared with Kurt would become memories to keep when she left Whitehorn. And she would take with her, in her aching heart, the unspoken truth that she loved him beyond measure, forever and always.
Kurt appeared in the doorway to the bedroom, and Dana’s gloomy thoughts vanished as she lifted her arms to welcome him into her loving embrace.
Fifteen
The next morning, Kurt headed for the kitchen to make a pot of coffee while Dana finished dressing. They’d showered together, declaring themselves to be good citizens for conserving water.
As the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, Kurt grabbed the bag of cat food and crossed the living room just as Dana came from the hallway.
“Hi,” he said, smiling as he passed her. “Coffee is perking. I’ll feed the beasts and be right back.”
“Yes, sir,” Dana said, matching his smile, then turning toward the kitchen.
Kurt opened the inner door, and was about to push the screen when he stopped, every muscle in his body tensing. He stepped out of view, closed the door and dropped the bag, his heart and mind racing.
There were no cats on the front porch waiting for their breakfast.
None.
Okay, he thought, nodding. He wasn’t sure he’d believe it if he hadn’t seen that empty porch with his own eyes, but…
“Thanks Mom,” he said quietly, looking heavenward.
“Kurt,” Dana said, from the doorway to the kitchen, “would you like some eggs and—”
“Shh,” he said. “Get down.”
“What?”
He ran across the room and grabbed Dana’s hand. “Bend over. I want you to sit on the floor in the hallway. Move. Now.”
“Why? What—?”
“The shooter is out there.”
“Oh, God,” Dana said, feeling the color drain from her face. “How do you know that? Did you see him?”
“No, but I had a message delivered by a very special lady. I’ll explain later. Let’s go.”
Kurt deposited Dana on the floor in the hall, then dashed into the bedroom for his gun.
“Oh, God,” Dana repeated, when Kurt reemerged with the weapon in his hand.
She leaned her back against the wall, pulled up her knees and wrapped shaking arms around them.
“Be careful,” she said, her voice hushed. “Please, Kurt, please be careful.”
“Guaranteed. Don’t move from that spot, no matter what you might hear. Understand?”
Dana nodded, unable to speak further as fear closed her throat.
Crouching, Kurt went from window to window in the living room, peering through the drapes. Staying low, he went into the kitchen, inching up slowly to look out the window over the sink.
“Bingo,” he said, under his breath. “You’re toast, sleazeball.”
The man was making his way forward, moving from behind one tree to the next. He wore black pants and shirt, and was carrying a gun.
Kurt watched him from the edge of the kitchen window long enough to be certain the man was heading for the back door of the house and not intending to veer around to the front.
Satisfied with what he’d observed, Kurt bent over and sprinted to the front door, leaving the house with hardly a sound.
Dana crawled down the hallway on her hands and knees, stopping before entering the living room. She wanted to be closer than she had been, she’d decided, to hopefully hear something that would give her a clue as to what was happening.
Calm down, she told her thundering heart. Kurt knew what he was doing. He was a highly trained professional, who made his living dealing with the bad guys. Men who carried guns. Who had been hired to kill her. Who would think nothing of killing Kurt first, if he got in the way.
Oh, dear heaven, why couldn’t Kurt have a safe, pleasant career, like being a mailman or an accountant?
Dana pressed trembling hands to her pale cheeks and waited.
Kurt made his way along the side of the house to the back and looked quickly around the corner. The man had left the cover of the trees and was running toward the back door, bent over at the waist.
Kurt stepped free of the house, clasped his gun in both hands and planted his feet slightly apart on the grass.
“Police!” he yelled. “Drop it and freeze!”
The man whirled around in the direction of Kurt’s voice. In one flash, the man saw the regulation stance, the weapon, and the cold glint in Kurt’s eyes. The gun hit the ground with a thud.
“On your belly, spread-eagle,” Kurt said, starting forward. “Give me an excuse, scum. That was my lady you were trying to take out.” The man flopped down on the ground. “By the way,” Kurt said, standing over him, “how’s Natalie?”
The next twenty-four hours were hectic.
Kurt called Judd, who arrived in record time and was given a full explanation as to why there was a man handcuffed to the drainage pipe on Kurt’s back porch.
Kurt then telephoned Detective Bonner. With Judd’s smooth and helpful persuasion, Bonner agreed not to file charges against Kurt for harboring Dana. Arrangements were made to hold the shooter in the Whitehorn jail until he could be transported to Chicago.
Kurt called Pete, who had witnessed Natalie entering Dana’s apartment and not leaving. Kurt informed Bonner, and Natalie Bailey was arrested.
Four hours later, Bonner called to tell Kurt that Natalie had signed a full confession and all charges against Dana Bailey had been dropped.
Kurt had no sooner hung up the receiver than a clerk of the Whitehorn court rang through to announce that the request for a change of venue had been denied and the trial of the man accused of shooting Clem was to begin at nine o’clock the next morning.
“We’ll be there,” Kurt said, then hung up the receiver. “The trial starts tomorrow,” he said to Dana. “It should be short and sweet. So! That ties up all the loose ends, I guess. This calls for a real celebration.”
No, Dana thought, sinking onto the sofa in Kurt’s living room, this called for what she’d been postponing, not indulging in, not allowing herself to have, for many, many weeks now.
She was due and overdue. She deserved this, had earned it, it was hers to have.
And with that, Dana Bailey burst into tears.
Kurt jumped to his feet as though he’d just discovered that the chair he was sitting in was on fire. He hurried to sit down next to Dana, sliding one arm across her shoulders and pulling her close. She covered her face with her hands and wept.
“Hey, there,” Kurt said, patting her on the back. “The nightmare is over. There’s no need to cry now.”
“I need to cry now,” came the muffled reply, “because I wouldn’t let myself cry during the nightmare.”
“Oh.” Kurt frowned in confusion. “Whatever. You go right ahead and wail your head off, and I’ll hold you. Don’t rush. I have all the time in the world.”
And so, Dana cried.
She cried because of the fear she’d lived in for so many weeks, due to the betrayal of a sister who would never be her friend.
She cried because she’d been shot at and nearly killed.
She cried because in a few short days she would be leaving Whitehorn, Montana, and Kurt Noble, and Kurt was the only man she would ever love.
Dana cried until she was exhausted, her nose was red and her cheeks were blotchy. She accepted the pristine white handkerchief that Kurt offered her and dabbed at her nose.
“Better?” Kurt said gently.
“Guess so,” she said, with a funny little hiccup. “I had a lot stored up in my emotional chamber.”
“Mmm. Is this emotional chamber at a safe, normal level now? Ready, able, to receive new emotional data?”
Dana dried her tear-streaked cheeks with the handkerchief.
“I suppose so,” she said. “That’s what good cries are for, to houseclean the emotional chamber.”
Kurt framed her face in his hands and tilted her head up so that he could look directly into her shimmering blue eyes.
“Then I have some new emotional data for you,” he said quietly, no hint of a smile on his face. He paused, took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Dana, I love you.”
Wife Most Wanted Page 18
