Honor Bound

by B. J Daniels

  Her anger and jealousy got the best of her. She opened the sleeping pill bottle, took out two, then changed her mind and dropped a third one into the mug of hot coffee. A half of one of the pills laid her out for twelve hours. Three should do the trick and then some for a man his size. Fortunately, they were very fast-acting, she thought as she added a little sugar and cream, just the way he used to like his coffee, and turned to smile at him.

  “I told you that Harry Lester Brown is related to Bobby LeRoy, but it turns out that he also has a Montana connection we hadn’t known about.” She gave the pills another moment or two to dissolve, stirred his coffee and put the spoon in the sink. “He recently purchased a house on Flathead Lake. Apparently he’s planning to spend at least part of the year here. That’s probably why they’re doing the deal here in Montana. I’m waiting to hear from Pete. He’s following Harry Lester, who flew in late last night and is staying in a Butte hotel.”

  “So Harry Lester Brown is already in the state?” Sawyer asked. She heard the interest in his voice and smiled. “This grand nephew and Montana are what brought Harry Lester out of retirement, you think?”

  “It’s still pretty hot,” she said of the coffee she’d handed him. “You might want to let it cool a little,” she said as she took her own over to the end of the couch and, sitting, tucked one leg under her to turn to face him. She knew he could never wait until the coffee cooled.

  “That’s the theory.” Kitzie watched him take a drink. He didn’t look quite as impatient now that they were talking criminals. It was something they shared. She was glad she could remind him of that. “I expect the deal to go down tomorrow—if not tonight.” She smiled at Sawyer.

  He suddenly looked nervous. “Kitzie, I can’t—”

  “I don’t need you to do anything tonight,” she quickly assured him. He took another drink of his coffee. “I just need to cross all my t’s and dot my i’s on this bust. I need an ID on my fence. You’re one of the few people who has actually laid eyes on Harry Lester.”

  “But that was years ago. It’s hard to say how much he might have changed.”

  “Pete should be sending me a photo any minute.” She glanced at her cell phone. “He called right before I caught you to say Harry Lester had left his room to go down to the dining room.” She could see that Sawyer was anxious to see the photo. But he was also anxious to leave.

  “Should be just a minute,” she said, putting her phone back in her pocket and stalling for time.

  Sawyer seemed to relax as if relieved she really did have something she needed his help on. What did he think? That she got him into her cabin to seduce him? Or worse, drug him, she thought with a stab of guilt. Too late now. The damage was done.

  “You must be excited about this bust. Nice work,” he said as if he meant it.

  “You can’t believe what it took to talk my boss into letting me go undercover on this. That’s why I have to succeed, whatever it takes.” She couldn’t help but smile. “I’m close. By tomorrow...”

  Sawyer let out a chuckle. “I know how you love being right.”

  She smiled and took a sip of her coffee. He took a healthy gulp. “I’m sorry. It should be just a few more minutes.” Outside, she heard a vehicle pull up to one of the cabins. Everyone would be gone soon, except for Gunderson and his cohorts. “You leaving in the morning?” she asked, even though she suspected the answer.

  He nodded, his eyelids drooping for a moment. He glanced at his watch, but she could tell he wanted a quick look at the photo before he left. “I have a few minutes.” He yawned and took another drink of his coffee.

  She saw him fighting to keep his eyes open. She got up to take her cup to the kitchen. “How’s your coffee?” she asked, looking back at him.

  “Fine,” he said. “If you don’t hear from Pete soon, I might have to...leave.” His words slurred, and she saw something flash in his eyes. He knew.

  Sawyer put down the cup, sloshing what little was left of his coffee, as he tried to get to his feet. “What the hell, Kitzie?”

  She turned her back, pretending not to hear him or notice that anything was wrong. She heard him trying to get up, trying to talk, but failing at both. Those pills could put down an elephant, she thought. She hoped she hadn’t killed him.

  When she finally looked in his direction, she saw that he was out cold. Still, she waited to make sure the pills had done their job, before she walked back over to him.

  “You might as well be comfortable.” Picking up his boots, she swung his legs around so that he was lying on the couch. She lifted his head, tempted to kiss him, as she put a pillow under it. But she was still too angry with him. He thought he could dump her and then fall instantly in love with someone like Ainsley Hamilton? Not without consequences.

  She pulled off one boot, then the other. He stirred, but only to groan before quickly falling back to sleep. Getting up, she took out the bottle of whiskey and two glasses. She put them on the floor next to Sawyer. She waited until he began snoring softly before she unsnapped his shirt, baring his big strong, sun-tanned chest.

  Maybe two pills would have done it, she thought as she checked his pulse, then pulled out his phone. Knowing him, she doubted he had changed his security code since the two of them were together. She was right, she saw, not only about his password. Sure enough, the last text he’d sent was to Ainsley saying something had come up but that he would be there soon.

  She began to type: Tying up some loose ends with Kitzie. Maybe we could

  Smiling, she left it unfinished, put his phone back and hurriedly changed. Sawyer was out for the night, and if she knew Ainsley, she’d be here soon.

  Not ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Kitzie shot a look at Sawyer, but he didn’t even stir. He was sprawled on the couch, his shirt open, his boots off, sound asleep.

  “Just a minute,” she called. Then, wearing nothing but her robe, her hair in a towel as if just coming from the shower, she opened the door a crack—just enough so that Ainsley would be able to see Sawyer, his boots, his bare chest, the whiskey and the glasses, and come up with her own conclusions as to what had been going on here.

  “Hi, is Sawyer...” Ainsley’s eyes widened as they took in Kitzie in her skimpy robe and then Sawyer passed out half dressed on the couch.

  Kitzie hurriedly blocked Ainsley’s view of Sawyer with her body. “He might have had too much to drink. Was he supposed to stop by your cabin before you left?”

  “No, it’s fine,” Ainsley said. “We already said everything we had to.” She took a step back, disappointment marring her pretty face.

  Kitzie felt a moment of guilt. But Ainsley was all wrong for Sawyer. It was better this way. She was actually saving Ainsley a lot of heartache since Sawyer wasn’t the marrying kind. Kitzie knew that only too well.

  “Have a nice trip home,” she said to her, then closed the door and looked to the couch with Sawyer sprawled on it. He really was too damned handsome for his own good, and Ainsley was the kind of woman every man wanted to rescue, especially a man like Sawyer. She feared he had it in his head that he was in love with Ainsley. Well, she doubted he’d be hearing from her again.

  “Now you and I are even,” she said to the sleeping cowboy before going to get dressed and packed. She didn’t plan to be here when he woke up.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  FRANK HAD JUST come in the door from a long day and hung his Stetson on the hook by the door, when his cell phone rang. He shot a look at Lynette, shrugged and, with a sigh, took the call. He was tired, more tired than he thought he’d ever been. He was more than ready to retire. Only a few more days, he told himself.

  “Sheriff Curry,” he said into the phone.

  At the sound of the warden’s voice, his fatigue instantly dissipated. He straightened, the cop in him desperately needing some good
news for Emily and her daughter’s sake, and Alex Ross’s, as well. “Is there word?”

  “They were spotted in Wilsall trying to steal a pickup. No doubt they realized they needed another vehicle, since we had the plates and description of the last one, even though they got away.”

  Frank knew the small western town of Wilsall well; it wasn’t far from Beartooth.

  “A sheriff’s deputy spotted them and gave chase.”

  He couldn’t bear to hear that the two convicts had evaded capture again.

  “They lost control of the stolen vehicle just outside of Clyde Park. Rolled a half dozen times to come to rest against a tree next to the Shields River.”

  “Are they—”

  “Dead. Would have called sooner, but I wanted to be sure we had positive identifications on them both before I did. You can tell that young woman that Harrison Ames won’t be bothering her anymore.”

  Frank disconnected and turned to find Lynette standing in the doorway waiting anxiously.

  One look at his expression, and she rushed to him to throw herself into his arms. “He’s dead?”

  “I need to call Emily and tell her the news.”

  “I know how relieved you are.” She stepped back. “Make your call. I’ll have a beer waiting for you in the kitchen. By the way, I made your favorite, pot roast. I just had a feeling you might need it tonight.”

  He smiled at her, feeling blessed to have her, before he made the call, then asked to speak to one of the deputies guarding the house. After he told the men they could step down, he started to put his phone away when it rang again.

  More good news, I hope, he thought as he answered. It was finally the lab tech calling.

  “You said you wanted to know as soon as those fingerprints were compared to the ones taken from the notes?”

  “Yes?”

  “They don’t match.”

  “Not those from the second note either?” There had been only two sets of prints on the second note Sawyer had sent him. One set had matched those from the first note. Those were the prints he’d been praying would match Lance Roderick’s.

  He hung up and called Sawyer’s cell. It went straight to voice mail. He left the message, hoping that Sawyer got it soon. “The prints don’t match. Lance Roderick isn’t Ainsley’s stalker.”

  * * *

  IT WAS TIME. He quivered at the thought of how he would punish Ainsley for her behavior. He’d been away for several days getting things ready for when he finally introduced himself to her. After he’d been questioned by the local sheriff, he’d thought about giving up, moving on. But he’d always prided himself on finishing whatever he started. True, things weren’t turning out like he’d planned with Ainsley. Her own fault.

  Had she not made such bad choices, she could have been his. He would have treated her like a princess. He would have bought her pretty dresses, proper dresses, and he would have showered her with little gifts and special moments. He would have knelt at her feet, idolizing her.

  But apparently it wasn’t meant to be. It wasn’t the first time he’d been wrong about a woman and had to change his plans. But this one hurt more because she’d seemed so perfect. He sighed, thinking of Sawyer Nash. The man had ruined everything.

  Anger made him flush. He balled his hands into fists, then quickly opened them at the thought of his mother. She had tried to beat the anger out of him throughout his childhood.

  “It’s for your own good,” she would say as she pulled out the belt with the silver buckle. The time he’d been so angry that he’d kicked a hole in the wall, she’d made him pull down his pants, and she’d used the buckle end on him. He hadn’t been able to sit down for days. She’d called the school and told them he had the flu.

  It was nothing compared to the time, though, that she’d caught him alone in his bed thinking about one of the girls at school and—he couldn’t bring himself to recall what she’d done to him.

  Instead, he thought about his precious Ainsley and what he would do to her as he drove back toward the cabins through the darkness. Everyone would be leaving. But he knew she hadn’t left yet because he’d put a tracking device on her car. Her car hadn’t moved.

  Maybe she was waiting for him to save her. The thought cheered him. Maybe he would go easier on her. He thought of his mother and realized that would be wrong. Ainsley needed to be punished, and he was the man to do it, just as his mother had taught him.

  * * *

  AINSLEY COULDN’T BELIEVE what a fool she’d been. She stomped back to her cabin, fighting tears of anger and humiliation. She’d trusted Sawyer. He was going to be her first. Then after tomorrow, she would never have to see him again.

  But that was what hurt so badly, she realized as she reached her cabin. This wasn’t casual for her. She wanted him. And not just for a night. She thought that after they made love...

  What? That he would be so enamored with her that he couldn’t let her go? He hadn’t even shown up for their date tonight!

  She remembered the way he’d asked her to dinner, the way his gaze had locked with hers, the promise she saw in those beautiful gray eyes. Her heart had pounded at the thought of being with him tonight. She’d wanted this...desperately. She’d wanted him.

  But then, apparently, he’d wanted Kitzie and Kitzie had wanted him. Ainsley had seen the two of them together before. She remembered seeing him come out of Kitzie’s cabin. What a fool she’d been for not realizing that Sawyer was double-timing them both. Now that she thought about it, she’d seen the way Kitzie had looked at him. But what woman wouldn’t want him? Sawyer Nash was...gorgeous. Not to mention he was sweet. He made her laugh. Even the memory made her smile now.

  She quickly replaced that memory with one of him passed out on Kitzie’s couch and Kitzie fresh from the shower. Her heart broke. She’d never wanted anything this badly in her life. No man made her feel like Sawyer did. Maybe no man ever would.

  That thought brought fresh tears. “Fool, fool, fool,” she muttered as she opened her cabin door and stepped in.

  The dark figure came out from behind the door so quickly, Ainsley didn’t have time to move, let alone scream. He grabbed her, forcing a wet, smelly cloth over her mouth and nose. She struggled, but it was useless.

  * * *

  THE SUN WAS up by the time Sawyer stirred from the dark depths of sleep. He sat up, making his head swim, and looked around, momentarily confused. All the cabins were identical, but he knew at once that this wasn’t his. This one had the distinct smell of Kitzie’s perfume.

  He swore as he remembered what he’d realized just before he’d passed out. He struggled to his feet. The bitch had drugged him? Looking down, he saw that his shirt was unsnapped. He quickly snapped it, telling himself nothing had happened between him and Kitzie. She just wanted him to think something had.

  Drawing on his boots, he promised himself that when he got his hands on her... But he suspected she was long gone. Had she even been here chasing jewel thieves? Had any of it been true?

  Throwing open the cabin door, he squinted into the bright sunlight. He’d known it was morning, but he hadn’t realized how late it was. Given the angle of the sun... He glanced at his watch and swore.

  His heart wanted him to run to Ainsley’s cabin, but his body refused. Anyway, he knew it would be too late. She’d think he stood her up last night, and, given their plans, she would never be able to forgive him.

  But he had to find her. She had to know how much last night had meant to him and what a fool he’d been. He’d deal with Kitzie later. He saw a cleaning crew going into one of the cabins. The driver of a large truck was pulling away with one of the last of the carnival rides. The commercial was wrapped. Only a few vehicles remained. Kitzie’s car wasn’t one of them.

  He assumed that she’d probably split last night after she’d do
ne her worst. Never underestimate a woman scorned, he reminded himself as he stumbled like a drunk over to Ainsley’s cabin. He knocked, then, feeling foolish for doing so, tried the door.

  It swung open. “Ainsley?” His voice echoed in the cold, hollow space from inside. Stepping in, he already knew what he would find. There was no sign of her, no sign that she’d ever even been there.

  He stood in the empty cabin, mentally kicking himself for trusting Kitzie last night. He still felt woozy. What had she drugged him with, anyway?

  Pulling out his cell phone, he cringed when he saw the last text message on the screen. Kitzie. Of course she would text Ainsley. If he could get his hands on Kitzie right now, he would ring her neck. She had no idea what she’d done last night, he thought with a curse.

  He had to assume that the text had gotten Ainsley to come over to Kitzie’s cabin where she would have seen him passed out on the couch, boots off, shirt open... Of course she had thought exactly what Kitzie had wanted her to think. He could even imagine what Kitzie would have been wearing when she opened the door.

  He cursed and keyed in Ainsley’s number, only to have it go straight to voice mail. He didn’t leave a message. He had to do this in person. It was the only hope he had—and not much of that. He’d stood Ainsley up on the most important date of possibly either of their lives. It was unforgivable. Maybe if he had warned her about Kitzie... Not that it mattered now.

  He started to put his phone away when he saw that he had a voice mail from Sheriff Curry. Hurriedly, he played it, praying for the good news he desperately needed right now.

  His heart dropped, all the breath in him going with it. The fingerprints didn’t match. Lance Roderick wasn’t Ainsley’s stalker! Which meant her stalker was still out there.

  He stood in the middle of her cabin trying to tell himself that Ainsley was all right. She’d gone home to the ranch. All he had to do was call the ranch and—

  He saw something lying on the floor between the bed and the wall in the tiny bedroom. Like a sleepwalker, he moved to it, a knot in his chest as he prayed it wasn’t blood.