Corralled

by B. J Daniels

  Right before quitting time, she saw Logan pull up out front. Just the sight of him as he stepped from one of the Chisholm ranch pickups made her heart take off at a gallop. She ached for a future with him. They were just getting to know each other. If she let herself, she could imagine the two of them growing old together in that farmhouse of his, raising kids who Logan would teach to ride horses before they learned to walk, just as he had done.

  She could see them all around that long table at the home ranch. She’d never had siblings, let alone lived close to any cousins. She’d always wished for a large family like Logan’s and guessed it wouldn’t be long before Hoyt and Emma had more grandchildren running around than they could count.

  “Hi,” she said as she stepped outside, so glad to see him it hurt.

  Logan looked into her eyes and she saw the pain in all that blue as he dragged her to him and kissed her. As he drew back, he said, “How was your first day of work?” She could tell it was hard for him to even ask.

  “My feet are killing me,” she said with a laugh. “How was your day?”

  He gave her a look that said he couldn’t take any more chitchat. “We need to talk.”

  Blythe nodded and they walked across the street to the park and took a bench.

  “You know how much I want to protect you,” he began. “But I can’t if you’re working here in town.”

  “I see what your stepmother has been going through waiting for a possible murderer to come after her,” she said. “Look what it is doing to your family. I don’t want that. If someone wants to kill me badly enough, they will find a way no matter what.”

  “No, I won’t—”

  “Worse, if I was with you at the time, then they might kill you, as well.” She shook her head. “That isn’t happening. That’s why I’m getting an apartment here in town, that’s why I can’t see you—”

  “No,” he said shooting to his feet and pulling her up with him. He grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “This is hard enough. If I can’t see you… No.”

  “It’s only temporary,” she said touched. “I’m sorry. You had no idea what you were getting into when you met me.”

  “Oh, I had some idea.” He let go of her but she could see this was killing him. “What now?”

  “Now I find an apartment.” She hesitated, knowing what Logan’s reaction was going to be when she told him about the newspaper article coming out in tomorrow’s paper. “Then when the article comes out tomorrow about JJ being alive and well and waitressing in Whitehorse—”

  Logan swore, ripped his Stetson from his head and raked one large hand through his thick blond hair. “You know what bothers me?” He bit off each word, anger cording his neck. “You are filled with so much guilt over leaving behind your former band members that you think you deserve this.”

  She shook her head. “You’re wrong. I do regret what I did, but I’m not ready to die. I want to live, really live, for the first time in a long time,” she said with passion. “You know why that is? Because of you. I can’t wait for the next time I get to make love with you. That’s why I’m doing this. I want it over and I don’t want you in the cross fire.”

  He dragged her to him and dropped his mouth to hers for a punishing kiss. “You aren’t going to have to wait long for the next time we make love,” he said when he pulled back. “Let’s find you an apartment. That article doesn’t come out until tomorrow, right?”

  SHERIFF BUFORD OLSON HADN’T wanted to like JJ any more than he had Jett Atkins. But the young woman he’d met on her way to her waitress job had impressed him. He couldn’t help but like her—and fear for her.

  He’d seen the look in her eye. She was planning to use herself as bait. Not that he could blame her for wanting to flush out the killer. He wanted that as badly as she did.

  “You’ll keep an eye on her,” he’d said to Sheriff McCall Crawford.

  McCall had nodded. “You think it’s one of her former band members?”

  “Likely, given what we know. They had motive and opportunity. I’ll see what I can find out as far as means and get back to you. The music business sounds more dangerous than law enforcement.”

  “The nice thing about Whitehorse is that the town is small enough that anyone new stands out like a sore thumb. I’ll be waiting to hear from you.”

  Buford had a lot of time to think on his way back to Flathead. The moment he reached his office, he had a call waiting for him from Jett Akins.

  “Is it true?” Jett asked. “Is JJ alive and living in Whitehorse?”

  The sheriff shook his head at how fast news traveled. “Where did you get that information?”

  “It’s all over the internet.”

  Of course it was. “Under the circumstances, I’m not at liberty to say.”

  “The circumstances? You don’t think I want her dead, do you?”

  “It has crossed my mind,” Buford said.

  “It’s these women JJ should be worried about. I just went down to the room where they were staying,” Jett said. “They’ve cleared out.”

  “Only the Sanderson case is closed, but I can’t keep all of you in town any longer.”

  “That’s it?” Jett demanded. “If you knew these women the way I do—”

  “I heard that you dated all of them at one time or another. I guess I’m just surprised you aren’t the one they want dead,” Buford said.

  “I’ll be leaving town now, Sheriff.” Jett slammed down the phone in his ear.

  Buford hoped that was true. With the news out on the internet, Blythe was already bait—but she might not realize it.

  He put in a call to the cell phone number she’d given him. It went straight to voice mail. When he called Logan Chisholm’s cell, he answered on the first ring.

  THE MOMENT EMMA SAW THE sheriff drive up, she knew it was bad news. She stood in the doorway, holding the screen open, afraid to step out on the porch.

  Sheriff McCall Crawford climbed out of her patrol SUV. She stopped when she saw Emma watching her, slowing as if dreading what she’d come to tell her.

  “Emma,” the sheriff said as she mounted the stairs. Not Mrs. Chisholm at least.

  “I just made iced tea,” Emma said and turned back into the house for the kitchen. She heard McCall behind her. “As I recall, you like my gingersnaps,” she said over her shoulder. She wanted to avoid whatever bad news the sheriff had brought as long as possible, since she had a feeling she already knew.

  She set about putting a plate of cookies on the table and pouring the tea as the sheriff took a seat at the kitchen table.

  “It’s about Aggie, isn’t it?” Emma said as she put the tea and cookies on the table and dropped into a chair across from McCall. Zane, she noticed, was out by the barn. He was her babysitter today. She told herself the news might turn out to have a silver lining. Maybe it would put an end to this house-arrest life she’d been living.

  “We found Aggie,” the sheriff said.

  “She’s dead.”

  Another nod. “I’m sorry.”

  “Did you find her in the river?” Emma asked around the lump in her throat. Aggie. She thought of the vibrant, interesting woman, obsessed, yes, but so alive, so filled with a sense of purpose.

  “No, not in the river. In Billings.” The words fell like stones in the quiet room.

  Emma crossed herself, mumbling the Spanish she’d grown up with, the religion Maria and Alonzo had given her.

  Neither of them had touched their tea or the cookies.

  “I don’t understand.” That was all she could think to say because she feared she did understand.

  “She’d apparently fallen ill after going in the river.”

  Emma raised her gaze from the table to stare at the sheriff with an accusing look she could no longer control. “Don’t you mean, after being shot by one of your deputies?”

  “She was a wanted criminal who was getting away, though I’m sure the bullet wound added to her deteriorated condi
tion,” McCall said without looking away. “She was living in an old motel on the south side of Billings.”

  Hiding, trying to get well, Emma thought. Her stomach roiled with both grief and anger. “Is that what killed her?”

  Now the sheriff looked away. “She was murdered.”

  “Murdered? Then you know who killed her?”

  As McCall finally looked at her again, there was regret in her dark eyes. “After Aggie gave you the photos of the woman she believed was Laura Chisholm, I called in the FBI. They are tracking the woman.”

  “Without any luck,” Emma said.

  “We don’t know who killed Aggie. She lived in a place where some of the residents had records for violent behavior. One of them could have killed her for a few dollars in her purse. Another woman was also killed in the same building. I wish I had better news.”

  She scoffed. “How could the news be any worse?”

  McCall shook her head as she rose to her feet. “I’m sorry.”

  Emma looked at the young woman. She wanted to blame her for Aggie’s death, blame someone. But if anyone was to blame, it was herself. If she’d gone to McCall and told her she was meeting Aggie…

  Water under the bridge now. She studied the sheriff. “When is your baby due?”

  McCall’s expression softened. “November.”

  Emma smiled. “Do you know—”

  “We want to be surprised.” Her smile was strained, guarded and Emma remembered thinking McCall was pregnant once before, months ago.

  “Miscarriage?” Emma said. “I’m sorry. I will keep you and your baby in my prayers.”

  “Thank you,” McCall said, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry about Aggie.”

  Emma nodded. She couldn’t blame the sheriff anymore than she could blame Hoyt. He had called the sheriff when he suspected his wife was up to something involving Aggie that day. Emma would never forgive herself. Aggie had been trying to save her, was no doubt still trying when she was killed. The woman would never give up—that was her downfall as well as her appeal.

  Apparently the person who killed her was the same way.

  Emma listened to the sheriff leave, then laid her head on her arms on the kitchen table and let the hot tears come. A woman who’d tried to save her was dead and now her murderer was coming for Emma.

  If Laura Chisholm had gotten to Aggie, then Emma knew there was little hope for her. Aggie wouldn’t have been easily fooled. Laura would find a way to get to her and Emma doubted she would see her coming.

  THE NEWS GOT OUT FASTER THAN Blythe had anticipated. Logan had told her it was all over the internet after Sheriff Buford Olson had called to warn him.

  “Don’t go to work today,” Logan had pleaded with her. “Come out to my place. We’ll take a long horseback ride up into the mountains.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” she’d said.

  “Blythe—”

  “I have to go back. I’m working a split shift. Maybe I’ll see you after work.” There was nothing she would have liked better than staying in bed with him. Her heart ached at the thought of giving up a horseback ride with him. Yesterday they’d found her a furnished apartment and made love late into the night.

  But Blythe knew the only way she could be free to be with Logan was to end this, one way or another.

  Now, at work at the café, there’d been a steady stream of diners since the newspaper article had come out that morning. Most just wanted coffee and pie and to check out this pop rock star who was now waitressing in their town.

  Things had finally slowed down when Blythe saw a car pull up out front of the cafe. The car caught her attention because there were so few in this Western town. Pretty much everyone drove trucks.

  She’d just served a tableful of ranchers who’d joked with her and still had her smiling, when she saw the woman climb out of the car. A cold chill ran through her. Karen “Caro” Chandler.

  Her former best friend from childhood was tall and slim. She wore a cap-sleeved top in a light green with a flowered print skirt and sandals. As she removed a pair of large dark sunglasses, Blythe saw that she was even more beautiful than she’d been when they were girls.

  “I’m going to take my break now, if that’s all right,” she called over her shoulder to the other waitress. Removing her apron, she tossed it on a vacant booth seat and stepped outside.

  Karen looked up as Blythe came out the door, her expression softening into a smile. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Too long,” Blythe said, and motioned to the park bench across the main street. The sun felt warm and reassuring as they crossed the street. Only a few clouds bobbed along in a clear, blue sky. The air smelling of spring and new things seemed at odds with the conversation Blythe knew they were about to have. The past lay heavy and dark between them.

  “So how is waitressing again?” Karen asked. “Remember that greasy spoon where you and I worked in high school? You broke more dishes and glasses than I did. But Huck always forgave you.”

  “Huck,” she said smiling at the memory. “I wonder whatever happened to him?”

  “He died a few years ago after rolling his car on the edge of town.” Karen nodded at her surprise. “I went back to the desert to take care of Dad. He had cancer.”

  “I’m sorry.” She studied her friend, surprised not that Karen had gone back to take care of her father but that she was stronger than Blythe had ever imagined. When they were girls, Blythe had been the one who made all the decisions about what the two of them did and Karen had let her. She watched Karen brush back a lock of hair and look up toward the warm blue of the sky.

  “I know why you’re here,” Blythe said.

  “Do you?” Her former friend looked over at her, their gazes locking.

  “I’m sorry. I should never have left the band, left you behind.”

  Karen laughed. “Is that why you think I’m here?” She shook her head, smiling. “Tough as Nails breaking up was the best thing that ever happened to me. I went to college, met a wonderful man. We live together back east. We have a good life. I’m happy, Blythe. I didn’t come here to tell you that you ruined my life. Quite the opposite. After you left, I realized I could do anything I set my mind to, I didn’t need you to tell me what to do anymore.”

  “I’m still sorry. I wish I had kept in touch,” she said, hearing bitterness in Karen’s voice no matter how much she denied it. “If not to tell me how much you hate me, then why are you here?”

  “Luca came to see me before she died,” Karen said. “She told me something that I thought you should know. She wrote some songs when she was dating Jett. When they broke up, he took the songs.”

  That didn’t surprise Blythe. “He must not have recorded them or—”

  “He did. Right after the two of you signed with Martin. Luca went to Martin. They settled out of court. A couple of the songs were his biggest hits.”

  “I had no idea,” Blythe said, shaking her head.

  “Luca felt that she’d been swindled by Martin and Jett. She was going to go public if they didn’t pony up more money. The next thing I heard, she’d stepped in front of a bus.”