by B. J Daniels
Clayton Rothschild had looked at her and all his anger had seemed to run out of him like water down a drain. “I’m sorry. I know how you looked up to your brother, how close the two of you were.”
“Then back me on this, Dad. Let me finish what I started.”
“By getting this...cowboy out on bail?”
“Yes.”
“Kate, he’s wanted for murder.”
“He’s being framed.”
Her father had groaned. “That’s what they all say.”
“I’m telling you he’s innocent. You trust my judgment, don’t you?”
“Most of the time,” he’d said, but she had seen that he was weakening. “What is this man to you, Katherine?”
“A man who needs justice as much as I do,” she’d said.
But as she drove toward Clawson Creek, she knew it was so much more than that. Against her better judgment she was falling for Tucker Cahill. The thought terrified her since she knew firsthand that he wasn’t over Madeline. That he might never be over the memory of the woman. But tell that to her heart.
Deep in thought, she’d lost track of time and was surprised when she saw the sign for the turnoff. She glanced over at Tucker, having almost forgotten he was there.
The cowboy took up too much space, exuded too much maleness, to forget him entirely. He’d fallen asleep, but as she slowed, he sat up, looking troubled as she drove into Clawson Creek. Last time they were here he’d come along for the ride, not really caring what they discovered. This time was more serious. His life was on the line.
She drove right through the town that had she blinked, she would have missed it. But she didn’t blink, and as she passed the lumberyard, she saw a woman come out of the huge barnlike building where the lumber was stored. Carly Brookshire stood in the shade and watched them go by before turning back inside.
As they passed the bar, a man was standing in the doorway. He, too, watched them go past. Kate marveled at what made entertainment in a place like this.
And then they were through town. A few deserted falling-down buildings blurred past and a junkyard with rusting cars, the new cemetery and then rolling hills broken only by open prairie. She took the first dirt road to the right. On the way, she’d texted Tammy for directions and was surprised how close the house was to town.
Tucker stretched. “Thanks for driving. I did need to sleep. If I didn’t thank you for getting me out of jail—”
“Not necessary.” She interrupted him. “Anyway, I got you into this. Remember, you didn’t want to find Madeline’s accomplice.”
“I’m a big boy.” She could feel his gaze on her. It warmed her more than the sun coming in the window. “I figured if they left me alone, I’d leave them alone.”
She looked over at him. “So why didn’t you put up more of a fight last time we were here?”
He chuckled. “Maybe I like your company. Maybe I get a kick out of seeing you in action. I never thought turning over a few anthills would get me thrown in jail, though.”
“Actually, it was jail you were worried about the first time we came up here. I guess with good reason. But we’re going to find Melody and K.O. and put an end to this. I promise.”
He didn’t look convinced. His brow furrowed, his gray eyes dark with worry. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you because of me.”
“You forget. I was neck-deep in this before we met. They’ll have to kill me to stop me.”
“That’s reassuring,” he said and looked out the side window.
They passed a couple of abandoned barns and were now on the back side of Clawson Creek. Suddenly, the house came into view.
Tucker let out a low whistle. Kate had figured Tammy had exaggerated the size and prosperity of the house. Apparently she had known how rich some sultans were.
The Dunn place sat back off the road on a hill, overlooking a creek bottom and within sight of town. It was big, rambling and surrounded by a rock wall, just as Tammy had described.
But the years had made the place less of a fortress. Trees had grown up next to the rock wall, making access to the house much easier. In other places, erosion had washed out a section of the stone fence.
Still, it made Kate wonder why the wall had been needed in the first place. What had the Dunns been protecting inside those walls? The domineering father’s three girls? Or were they more worried about keeping people out so they didn’t know what was going on inside?
* * *
AS KATE TURNED onto a narrow dirt road, Tucker could see the back side of Clawson Creek. Why would Kell Dunn build here of all places?
He glanced at the creek choked with tall cottonwoods below the house. The water was already running high this close to the Belt Mountains and spring runoff. He wondered if this was where Madeline had learned to swim—and perfected the trick that would later betray her? Then he reminded himself that she hadn’t drowned that night. Someone had been waiting for her downstream and killed her. Had the murder been premeditated? Or had there been a confrontation? He doubted they would ever know.
Kate slowed. “Tracks,” she said in a whisper as if she might be heard by someone other than him. “Someone has been down here and recently.”
He sat up straighter and eyed the large house. Last night, lying on the cot in jail, he’d known he had to see where she’d lived. The house appeared abandoned at first glance but then he saw the hem of a curtain flap in the breeze from an open window.
“Someone is still living here.”
Kate shot him a glance as the road access ended with a chain across the road.
“That’s odd,” Tucker said.
“What?”
“Someone installed that barrier,” he said. “The chain across the road is padlocked to metal posts set in concrete. That is not the sort of thing the family would have done if they left in a hurry. And what was the point, if they were never coming back?”
“So you think someone has been using the house,” Kate said. “Do you think they’re here now?”
“I don’t see a vehicle, but whoever drove in here has a key to that padlocked chain blocking the road,” Tucker said, pointing to visible footprints in the fine dust. The vehicle tracks continued up the hill to the house.
Kate parked, blocking the road, and reached for her purse. He beat her to it, pulling the pistol out and sticking it in the waist of his jeans and covering it with his shirt.
She gave him a look that told him not to play hero. “If you get caught with that gun—”
“A gentleman never lets the lady pull the trigger,” he said.
The look she gave him softened. “Who says I’m a lady?”
“Who says I’m a gentleman?” He opened his door, watching the house as he climbed out. He heard Kate exit the SUV, as well. He would have preferred that she stay in the vehicle until he searched the house. But he’d come to know the woman well enough to know that wasn’t going to happen.
“At least stay behind me,” he whispered as she joined him. He felt her hand on his back for a moment.
“What choice do I have?” she whispered back. “You have my gun.”
The walk up the road only took a few minutes. Tucker stepped over some of the fallen rock wall and reached back for Kate. She took his hand and scrambled over.
“Is it just me or does this feel...spooky?” she whispered as she joined him on the inside of the wall.
He was looking up at the house. “I always thought Madeline was poor. Whoever built this house had money.”
“So why a life of crime?” Kate asked. “Maybe it was only a game. Something for amusement. But then again, Tammy said the father was cheap and that they didn’t have enough to eat.”
Tucker shook his head. “I think Madeline might have lied about a lot of things.” But that night on the bridge, he’d sensed a desperation in her that had been r
eal. She had been scared. That at least had been honest emotion.
Kate said nothing, no doubt skeptical when it came to his perceptions dealing with the woman. He couldn’t blame her.
They climbed the rest of the way up to the front porch with its towering brick columns. The wood on the porch had weathered but had held up well in the climate. The boards groaned under his tread, though.
He stopped to remind himself how dangerous these people could be. If one of them was inside, he or she might have already spotted him and Kate. The two of them could be walking into an ambush.
Moving to the door, he expected it to be locked. He tried the knob. When it turned in his hand, he felt his heart thump even harder. If someone was staying here, why leave the door unlocked? True, hardly anyone in rural Montana locked doors. Also, who in their right mind would come out here if they’d heard of the Dunns?
Still, he couldn’t help feeling anxious. That feeling that they were walking into a trap even stronger as he turned the knob and the door swung open. A dry musty smell escaped along with the faint scent of a recently cooked meal.
Still listening, Tucker quietly stepped into the dim light of the once-mansion-like house. He could feel Kate’s hand against his back. The living room was only partially furnished. Everything was covered with a thick coat of dust, including the floor. On the walls were places where it appeared several large crosses had once hung.
There were no photographs or paintings or other decorations anywhere he could see. The place had an austere feel to it. He still couldn’t imagine the woman he’d known growing up here.
He looked down and saw no footprints. Whoever had come up the road hadn’t come in through this doorway.
“No one can live here,” Kate whispered as she peered around him.
He chuckled under his breath. “This from the girl who was raised on a huge ranch outside Helena?”
Her hand disappeared from his back and he felt her move away. “It is easy to think I grew up privileged, but not everything is about money.”
He knew she was right and felt contrite, especially since it had been her father’s money and influence that had gotten him out on bail. Heading for the kitchen, he wished he could take back his words.
The kitchen wasn’t much better than the living room. Everything was outdated, but it was easy to see that at one time the furnishings had been expensive.
“I’m going to check upstairs,” he said. “Wait here.” He didn’t give her time to argue. He took the stairs three at a time as quietly as he could. The upstairs had been divided into a half dozen small bedrooms. He saw only two bathrooms and had to wonder what it must have been like for Madeline growing up here with two sisters and a brother.
True, nineteen years had passed, but still it wasn’t how he’d pictured the house Madeline had grown up in. Then again, as Kate had said, having money didn’t mean that it had been a happy home. Or that any of that money was accessible to the four children.
He found no one, but it was clear that one of the bedrooms was being used. There was an old mattress pulled up on the floor along with some stray blankets. He was about to take a look in a duffel bag he saw in the corner when he heard a vehicle engine.
Hurriedly he took the stairs, actually thinking Kate might be where he’d left her. He really was a fool. She was in the kitchen holding a butcher knife.
“Unless you plan to cut bread with that...” he said.
“I thought I might have to rescue you.” She dropped the knife back in the drawer. “Did you hear that?”
He nodded and motioned her toward the back door. “I think we better see who it is.” But before they could reach the door, the vehicle engine revved from behind the house. By the time he stepped out onto the porch, all he could see was a cloud of dust as the driver of the vehicle made a hurried U-turn in the dirt behind the house and tore off the other way.
“My SUV is blocking the road,” Kate said. “So there must be a back way out.”
“That would be my guess.” He hurried out, but the land dropped away rapidly just yards from the rear of the house. All he could see was dust settling. There was no way to go after the person in the vehicle even if they could reach Kate’s SUV in time. They couldn’t get past the chain across the road.
“Stay here while I run back upstairs for a few minutes to check something.”
“Only if you give me my gun.” She crossed her arms over her chest, grit in her expression.
He ground his teeth as he looked from her to the settling dust. “Fine.” He pulled the weapon from his waistband and carefully handed it to her. “Try not to shoot anyone until I get back.”
She smiled. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”
“You honestly know how to shoot that?”
“No, I just carry it in my purse for the extra weight.” Kate made a face. “I’m an excellent shot, I’ll have you know.”
“I hope I never have to call you on that.” He turned and ran back up the stairs and down the hall to the room with the mattress on the floor.
The duffel bag was navy and fairly new. He carefully unzipped it, glad the person who’d just left hadn’t had time to take it with him or her.
What he saw made him draw back. Money. A dozen stacks of hundred-dollar bills. And under them were clothes. Women’s clothing. He moved the money aside. It wasn’t just women’s clothing. It was the sexy stuff that Madeline had loved so much. Silky and new in black and a deep rose color, also her favorite. A scent drifted up from the clothing. That now-familiar gut-wrenching smell of Madeline’s jasmine perfume.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
KATE WALKED AROUND the lower floor of the house, the gun in her hand. There wasn’t much to see. The only tracks led back to the kitchen. She followed them straight to the gas stove. There was something thick and red spilled next to one of the burners and it looked fresh.
She tried a burner. At the sound of spewing gas, she quickly turned it off and noticed a matchbook. Picking it up, she saw that only a couple of matches were left. As she started to put it back, she saw that the matchbook looked fairly new. There was the name of a bar on one side, but it was difficult to read in the dim light. On the other side someone had written K.O.
Glancing out the window, she saw a propane tank. Well, that explained the stove working, she thought. But that spilled red blob caught her attention again. Sticking the tip of her finger into it, she brought it to her nose and sniffed.
Spaghetti sauce?
Smiling, she wiped her hand clean with a napkin on the counter as she heard Tucker come back down the stairs. He headed straight for the front door. She pocketed the matchbook and followed him.
One look at his face and she knew something had happened in the house that had shaken him. “Want to talk about it?” she finally asked as they walked toward her SUV parked down the hill.
He looked over at her as if he’d been lost in thought. “I found a duffel bag in the house with money and women’s clothing in it. Some of the items were in Madeline’s favorite color and they smelled of her perfume. Did I mention that the notes I’ve been getting left on my truck also smell of her perfume?”
Kate didn’t know what to say. Worse, his words made her feel sick inside. No, he hadn’t mentioned that. But she could tell that it upset him. This was just another reminder that Madeline was still part of Tucker’s life even after all these years. The man had been snakebit, as her father would have said. Nothing could ever get Madeline out of his thoughts or his heart. No woman certainly could ever best Madeline—alive or dead.
But she was dead and Kate felt as if she needed to remind him of that. “Everyone knows how close identical twins tend to be—they wear matching clothes, have the same hairstyle, marry the same kind of men—even when they weren’t raised together. So triplets must be the same way.”
He nodded but she could t
ell he was having his doubts.
“She’s dead. But it seems someone wants you to believe she’s still alive,” Kate said. “They’re just fooling with you.”
The sound of a rifle shot pierced the quiet spring air. The bullet whizzed past to kick up dust from the road bank next to them. Tucker grabbed her, throwing them both off the side of the road into the thick foliage beneath the cottonwoods along the creek. Another bullet smacked into the trunk of a tree just inches from them.
Tucker dragged her deeper into the underbrush next to the creek. He put out his hand. Without a word, Kate handed him her gun. They stayed crouched down in the shelter of the trees and waited.
She listened, terrified that whoever had taken the potshots at them would be descending the hill after them at any moment. The breeze stirred the new leaves. Sunlight flickered down. Tucker seemed just as intent on the hillside above them—and keeping her tucked down out of the line of fire.
At the sound of a vehicle engine starting up, she held her breath. Her fear was that whoever had shot at them would be coming down the road. But after a few moments, she realized the sound was dying away in the distance.
Still, they waited as the sun moved across Montana’s big blue sky. Until it began to get cold down by the creek. Until Tucker finally rose and reached for her hand.
* * *
TUCKER WAS STILL shaken hours later. He looked at the mug shot his brother handed him and felt a jolt of surprise. The man looked nothing like he’d pictured him. But he’d been a good-looking twenty-two-year-old when he’d been arrested, apparently the one and only time.
“This is K.O. Dunn?” he asked his brother.
“Kevin Oyler ‘K.O.’ Dunn,” Flint said. “He’d be more than twenty years older now.”
Tucker handed the photo to his brother Hawk. His brothers had gathered at the ranch after he and Kate had come back from Clawson Creek. It had been Flint’s idea after hearing what had happened up at the Dunn place.
Flint hadn’t wanted to talk about this at the sheriff’s office, hoping that no more people knew about it than necessary since Tucker wasn’t supposed to even leave town—let alone continue investigating.
