Keeping Christmas

by B. J Daniels

  “Me, and everyone else apparently. Why didn’t you just send up a flare?”

  She glared at him. “I figured if I waited for you in front of a castle on the edge of town you couldn’t really miss me.”

  He shook his head and looked down the street. “Well, unless you want to wait for those guys to come back, I suggest we hightail it out of here.”

  She nodded, irritated with him. She tried to relax, telling herself she had nothing to worry about now. Hadn’t she known that Chance would find her? He’d been her hero when she was twelve. She’d always known that if there was one person she could trust it was Chance Walker if she ever got into any real trouble. And she was in a world of trouble.

  “I thought I’d be seeing you before this, given the number of messages I left,” she said as they started across the street. She slowed, looking over at him when he didn’t answer right away.

  He glanced down the street, frowning, then settled his gaze on her. “I didn’t get the messages. Someone broke into my office and took the answering machine tape before I could get them. I haven’t been working for a while.”

  She stopped dead in the middle of the street. “Then how did you know where…”

  He stopped, too, looking at her as if she’d lost her mind. “We really need to get out of here. Unless I miss my guess, we’ll be seeing those guys again.”

  “How did you find me?” She couldn’t move because even before he said the words, she knew.

  He sighed as he pulled off his cowboy hat and raked a hand through his thick hair. “Your father told me you were in Montana. I figured out where you were headed by tracking the credit card charges he gave me.”

  She stared at him, her heart sinking like the Titanic. “My father? Why would my father…” She couldn’t believe this. Fear shot through her, mixed with equal amounts of anger and disappointment. “No. You wouldn’t.”

  He rocked back, seemingly surprised by her reaction. “Could we talk about this somewhere else besides the middle of the street?”

  She felt her car keys in her coat pocket and glanced toward the back of the museum, gauging whether or not she could reach her car before he caught her.

  It wasn’t her anger that brought the hot stinging tears to her eyes but the betrayal. She would have trusted Chance with her life. Had. She’d stupidly contacted him believing he was the one person who couldn’t be bought by her father.

  “What is my father paying you to do?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

  He was looking at her closely now, a wariness in his gaze. She knew he’d seen her anger—as well as her tears. He didn’t even try to deny that her father had hired him. “Look, clearly you’re in trouble. I just want to help you.”

  She laughed and looked away, biting at her lower lip, still considering making a run for it. “If you’re working for my father then you aren’t here to help me.” She met his gaze. “What did he pay you to do? Stop me?”

  “He just wants you to come back to Texas. He’s afraid for you. But I would imagine you know more about that than I do.”

  She stared at the man she’d measured all men by since she was twelve. “You bastard.” She turned and took off at a dead run for her car.

  Chance couldn’t believe it. He tore off after her. She was fast, all legs, but he caught her before she reached the curb. Grabbing her arm, he spun her around to face him.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded, holding her shoulders in his palms.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” she snapped instantly, anger flashing like lightning in all that blue. Her voice was deeper than her sister’s. This was no mealy-mouthed, soft-spoken Southern belle. This woman had attitude, as well as backbone. She was a firecracker, hotheaded and sharp-tongued. A real handful—just as her father had warned him.

  He should have known that the unmanageable, stubborn, too-smart-for-her-britches girl he’d known at twelve would grow into this fiery to-be-reckoned-with woman.

  In answer, she swung that shoulder bag, to cuff him the way she had the other poor sucker, but he’d been expecting it. He caught the bag and blocked her next move, not interested in being kneed in the groin or ending up in a snowbank.

  “Damn it, I’m trying to help you. Why can’t you believe that?” he said, holding on to both of her arms and keeping her at a safe distance from his groin.

  “Because you were bought by my father, just like the rest of them.” She spit the words at him, her eyes narrowed to slits. He could feel the anger coursing through her body and feared if he let go of her, she would launch herself at him again. They were wasting valuable time arguing on the street like this.

  “I wasn’t bought by anyone. Especially Beauregard Bonner. Don’t you know me better than that?”

  “I thought I did.”

  “Look, whatever this is between you and your father, I don’t care, okay? I want to help, starting with getting us both out of here.” He gave her arms a little tug. “Come on.” He thought she’d fight him. But somewhere in the distance came the roar of an engine.

  He watched her face, trying to read her expression. Fear? Or something else?

  She didn’t look happy about it but she let him hustle her across the street to his pickup.

  Fortunately with the holidays so close, this part of town was pretty deserted with people either at work or shopping. They reached the truck without incidence, but Chance had a bad feeling it wasn’t going to last.

  “Where are you taking me?” She sounded suspicious and worried as she walked around to the passenger side of the truck.

  “Somewhere safe.” He waited for her to open her door and get in, half expecting her to try to take off again. He remembered what Bonner had said about “keeping” Dixie once he found her.

  “What about my car?” she asked, looking back toward the museum.

  “We’ll come back for it.” What he really meant was that he’d see that it got back to Texas. “Get in.” He planned to get this job done and enjoy Christmas, come hell or Dixie Bonner.

  She opened the pickup door and he did the same on his side. They looked at each other across the bench seat over Beauregard the dog who was sprawled like a lumpy blanket on the floor under the steering wheel out of Dixie’s sight.

  Her gaze, a mind-blowing blue, locked with his and he thought he glimpsed an instant of vulnerability. She still had a light sprinkling of freckles across those high cheekbones that she’d had at twelve, but on her they were now nothing short of sexy.

  Any man looking into that face would have melted on the spot.

  Unless that man had known the twelve-year-old Dixie Bonner and had an inkling of what she was capable of.

  Or unless that man was Chance Walker and incredibly suspicious of everything—and everyone—by nature. Especially Dixie Bonner.

  “You have to believe me, Chance,” she said, her eyes locked with his, but still not getting into the pickup. Waiting for him to say he believed whatever she was going to say? Or stalling for time so that car with the two guys would have a chance to come back?

  He couldn’t help but think that the scene he’d just witnessed had been set up just for him. If Dixie wanted him to believe she was in danger, why not set it up so two big guys try to abduct you at the same time dumb ol’ Chance Walker shows up?

  It was that damned suspicious nature of his.

  But added to what Bonner had told him about his youngest daughter—and what Chance himself already knew, he wouldn’t put anything past her.

  “We can talk about this in the truck,” he said.

  “Someone’s trying to kill me.” Those big baby blues misted over. She bit her lower lip, then looked away as if embarrassed by her moment of weakness.

  He felt a strong tug at his heartstrings, then had to remind himself again who he was dealing with. But until he had her in the pickup… “Who’s trying to kill you? The guys in the car?”

  She said nothing as she looked down the street and blin
ked back tears.

  “How many people are after you?” He hadn’t meant it to sound so flip. “Come on, get in the truck. We need to get going. You can tell me all about it.”

  He saw her hesitate, then finally acquiesce. Swearing under his breath, he started to climb behind the wheel. Was she serious? Crazy? Lying? All of the above?

  Dixie stepped up on the running board to climb in and let out a surprised sound when she finally saw the dog come up off the floor. “What is it?”

  “A dog.”

  She mugged a face at Chance. “I can see that. What kind?”

  “Heinz 57 varieties. Just like me.”

  She eyed him. “Just like a lot of people. Does he bite?”

  “Only people who piss me off.”

  She smiled faintly. “Then I guess I’ve been warned.”

  “Scoot over, Beauregard, and let her in,” Chance said, dragging the dog over to give her more room.

  “You named your dog Beauregard?”

  It was Chance’s turn to smile. “That’s exactly what your daddy said.”

  “I bet he did.” Beauregard grudgingly curled in the middle of the bench seat and Dixie climbed in, her nose wrinkling at the smell of damp dog. Beauregard sniffed her hand then settled himself and went back to sleep.

  “Damp dog your normal cologne? Bet you don’t date much,” Dixie said as she slammed the pickup door and he started the engine, muttering under his breath.

  At least they were on a familiar level. She’d been a smart-mouthed kid at twelve, always giving him a hard time. And vice versa.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her relax a little as she leaned back in the seat and gazed out at the mountains. It surprised him, but he realized that he’d missed her smart mouth. He shook his head at the thought. He hadn’t missed her older sister Rebecca and that seemed a terrible thing given that she really had been his first love.

  He turned his thoughts back to the problem at hand as he skirted town, debating where to take her. The obvious thing to do was to head back the way he’d come. But that would no doubt involve running into J. B. Jamison. And there was also whoever had broken into his office.

  Clearly, someone after her knew about him and would expect him to return to his office in Townsend. But why take the answering machine tape? Just to find Dixie? Or to keep her from telling him something?

  That last thought struck a chord.

  He warned himself not to get any more involved. He’d found Dixie. All he had to do was to give Bonner a call. His job would be over and he could get back to enjoying the holidays like he’d planned.

  “I’m serious, Chance. I left Texas because someone is trying to kill me,” she said, not looking at him.

  “What did you do in Texas to make someone want to kill you?” he asked, only half joking.

  She glanced over at him, a thin smile curling that amazing mouth of hers. Who would have ever thought that Rebecca’s kid sister would grow into such a stunning woman? It was that combination of big blue eyes, wide, bow-shaped mouth and high cheekbones. Not to mention that it was framed by wild dark hair that shone in the sunlight streaming in the pickup windows. She had the kind of face you couldn’t help staring at.

  “What did my father tell you about me?” she asked.

  He could feel those blue eyes on him. “Not much. Just that you’re a hellion. That you’ve kidnapped yourself a few times. That the ransom demand has been going up steadily since you were three.”

  “That’s all?” she asked.

  “There’s more?” Of course there was more or they wouldn’t be here now.

  “Aren’t you curious why my father is so intent on getting me back to Texas?”

  Hell yes, he was. He pulled up to a stop sign and looked over at her. “I don’t get paid to be curious.” Which just happened to be true. But he also knew that getting curious about Dixie Bonner would lead to nothing but trouble.

  “Look, if you’ll just take me back to my car—”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  He met her gaze. “Your father hired me to make sure you were safe. Clearly you wouldn’t be safe back at your car.”

  Her face reddened with anger. “I’m twenty-nine years old. If you try to take me back to Texas, I will have you arrested for kidnapping.”

  He laughed. “You can’t have it both ways. Do you really believe the cops or the feds are going to believe that you’ve been kidnapped? They’ve already written off your latest attempt to extort money from your father as just that.”

  She stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “The million dollars you were demanding for ransom. Excuse me, I guess it’s gone up to a mil and a half now.”

  “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

  He stared into that face. He wanted to believe her. He really did. But then he wanted to believe anything that came out of that mouth.

  “I’m talking about those guys back there,” he said, getting angry. “You set up that whole show, the Castle in the background, two guys driving up just when I did, you managing to fight them off. Come on, admit it. This is just some game you and your father are playing.”

  She looked away. “I heard you were a pretty good private investigator.”

  The “pretty good” rankled even though that was pretty much how he would have described himself.

  She swung around to face him, eyes piercing him like laser beams. “If you think this is a game, then you’re a lousy P.I. and an even worse judge of character. But then again, you are working for my father, aren’t you?”

  Chance swore. Hadn’t he known that getting involved with the Bonners was like sticking his hand into a wasps’ nest hoping he wouldn’t get stung?

  She reached for the pickup’s door handle but he reached faster, his hand clamping down on her arm as he leaned over the dog.

  “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but it isn’t going to work on me. So why don’t you try being straight with me?”

  Even if her blue eyes hadn’t been snapping with anger, he could feel her rage under his fingertips where they gripped her arm.

  “I didn’t kidnap myself. I never made a ransom demand. Whether you believe it or not, my life is in danger.”

  He didn’t believe it and it must have shown because she jerked free of his grip. But she didn’t try to get out of the pickup as he drove on through the intersection and headed north out of town.

  He was going the wrong way to get back to Townsend.

  But he didn’t care because whether he liked it or not, he needed to know what he was dealing with before he went any further.

  Dixie was frowning, chewing on her lower lip, eyes angry slits. But there was also a hurt in her expression that bothered him like a sliver just under his skin.

  What if she was telling the truth?

  He reminded himself that lying ran in some families like freckles or high cheekbones. Dixie Bonner came by her lying genes honestly enough. And Bonner had gotten proof from the kidnappers. “The kidnappers mailed your father your locket.”

  Her hand went to her throat. She seemed surprised to find her locket gone. Or was that, too, part of the act?

  “You telling me someone took it from around your neck without you knowing about it?” he asked, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

  “I would imagine they took it while I was knocked out after they abducted me in Texas. I’ve been a little too distracted to have noticed since then.”

  He turned to stare at her. “You were abducted in Texas and brought to Montana?”

  “Not exactly.”

  He groaned inwardly, still debating the best place to take her as she told him a story of being attacked in a parking garage in Houston, knocked out, waking up in the trunk of her car in her garage to hear the men ransacking her house, and then miraculously getting away.

  “Wow, that’s some story,” was all he could say when she
finished. He felt her gaze on him and looked over to see her big baby blues brimming in tears.

  She made an angry swipe at them. “Damn you, what about that don’t you believe?”

  He didn’t know where to start. Surely Bonner had gone to check his daughter’s house. Wouldn’t he have mentioned if the house had been ransacked? “So how exactly did you get away?”

  She eyed him as if she thought he was just humoring her. And when he thought she wasn’t going to tell him, she changed her mind and did.

  He listened as she told a harrowing tale of how she had narrowly escaped from the trunk, leaving him torn between disbelief and distress at the thought that this really could have happened to her.

  “I didn’t know what to do. I just knew I had to get out of Texas. I needed help, but mostly I needed someone I could trust.” She let out a sarcastic laugh.

  He shot her a look, thinking that was pretty sad if true. Was there really no one in Texas she felt she could trust to help her? At the same time, he was touched that she’d come to him. Just as it made him suspicious of her motives.

  She glanced out the side window, turning quickly back his way and sliding down a little in her seat.

  Past her, he caught sight of a dark gray SUV at a side street. Had she thought it was the black car for a minute? Is that why she’d reacted the way she had?

  He took the road out of town and saw her glance back then sit up a little straighter. In his rearview mirror, he saw that there was no one behind them as they left White Sulphur Springs. No dark gray SUV.

  He glanced at Dixie, unable to shake the feeling there was more she was keeping from him. “Wouldn’t most women have gone to the police the moment they escaped?”

  “I don’t know what most women would have done,” Dixie said, an edge to her voice. “I’m not most women. I’m the daughter of Beauregard Bonner, remember? That comes with its own rule book. I just know what I did under those circumstances.”

  He said nothing.

  “Obviously you have no idea how much power my father now wields in Texas,” she said. “And it seems his power extends all the way to Montana, given how easily he bought you.”