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Endangered Heiress

Page 4

by Barb Han


  “I doubt that, Mr. Staples.” She picked up the white envelope.

  “Don’t be so sure,” he said. “You should take a moment to consider whether or not you’re ready.”

  She ripped open the flap in one swipe and pulled out the 8-1/2 by 11 sheet of paper. It was trifold, so she flatted out the page. “All I’m ready for is a hot bath, a glass of wine and a...”

  Madelyn froze. A gasp escaped.

  There was no way. This had to be some kind of twisted joke. She glanced up, looking for cameras. Was she on one of those prank shows?

  “I can assure you this is legitimate,” Ed said, but his voice disappeared in the background noise exploding in her head.

  She would know something like this. Someone would’ve said something to her before now.

  “I know who my father is and it isn’t Mike Butler.” The words were barely audible even to her as she pulled out the legal document that declared her his legal child. Madelyn cleared her throat. “There’s been a mistake.”

  And then Ed Staples said the words she least wanted to hear. “I’m afraid not. It’s true.”

  Madelyn gripped the piece of paper. The edges crinkled in her hand.

  “I’ve never even met this man. This can’t be—”

  Ed sat there, looking like he had a well of patience to draw on. And then he said, “Who do you think gave your mother that necklace you’re wearing?”

  Those words exploded in her head. She was on her feet fast and racing toward the door before she could even begin to process. The day her father had given her the trinket popped into her thoughts. He’d looked so grieved when she opened the gift on her fifteenth birthday. Her mother had given him death-bed instructions to make sure Madelyn received it. He’d looked so pained as she opened the box. Until now, Madelyn had always believed that the necklace reminded him of her mother. Could his expression have meant something else? Was it a reminder of the affair she’d had?

  Madelyn didn’t bother to look back to see if Ed Staples had followed her. All she needed was a quiet room and a way to rewind this crazy day.

  With every step toward her pale blue convertible, a little more life escaped from her. A shot of adrenaline was the only thing keeping her legs moving, her flee response having kicked into high gear. Her chest squeezed and it felt like her lungs were seizing.

  Hands shaking, she took a few tries to get the letter unstuck from the moisture gathered on her fingers and grip her car key.

  She wasn’t sure how she managed to get the key in the ignition and start her car. It was all a blur. Was her entire life a lie? A secret this big couldn’t be hidden for thirty years...could it?

  Tears blurred her vision. She blinked them away the best she could and focused on getting the hell out of there. Time seemed to slow as Madelyn tried to process the possibility of Mike Butler being her birth father. Maverick Mike Butler.

  One hand on the wheel, she absently fingered the delicate silver dragonfly dangling from its chain as the log-style home shrank in the rearview mirror.

  Madelyn parked in front of her motel room. Her limbs felt like hundred-pound weights and her body sank deeper into the driver’s seat. She managed to pick up her phone and dial her father’s number.

  Of course, he didn’t pick up. Why would he start now, she thought bitterly.

  Madelyn forced herself out of her car and into her motel room. The second she walked in, something felt off. Hadn’t she placed her laptop on the second bed, not the one closest to the door? Her overnight bag was unzipped and some of the contents spilled out. On the mirror at the back of the wall were scribbled large letters in what looked like red lipstick: Walk away or die.

  Taking a couple of steps backward, she stumbled over her overnight bag. She quickly recovered her balance, grabbed her laptop and shoved it inside her small suitcase.

  A few seconds later, panting, she was inside her car. She locked the doors and tossed her bag in the back seat. All she could think about was getting out of there and far away from Cattle Barge.

  But go where?

  Chapter Four

  Madelyn thumped the steering wheel, refusing to cry. Then the questions flooded. Who was behind this? How did someone find out she was staying at the Red Rope Inn? How on earth did someone get inside her room? Was she being followed? That was a stupid question. Of course someone had followed her—the white sedan from earlier. The feeling of eyes on her prompted her to scrutinize the parking lot.

  All the cars appeared to be empty but appearances could be deceiving. She drove around the building to the motel lobby. She parked, locked her car door and stalked inside, tucking her fears as far below the surface as she could. Like a simmering pot, her emotions threatened to boil over without warning.

  Later, she would process this horrific day. Right now, all she could think about was finding out who was behind this threat. A dozen scenarios fought for attention. She’d been so quick to blame Owen for trying to run her off the road earlier. Her thoughts moved in a different direction now. The person behind the mirror scrawl was most likely the driver of the white sedan.

  It was obvious that someone wanted her far away from Cattle Barge. Did one of Mike Butler’s children know about her? What about Ed Staples? Could she trust him? As far as she knew, he was the only one who knew she was coming to the ranch. Why would he summon her there and then try to hurt her? He had her number, probably her home address. Why wouldn’t he just assault her without making himself known? It didn’t rule him out, but placed him lower on her possible suspect list.

  Nothing else made sense. She’d been nearly run off the road, shot at and threatened.

  Madelyn was certain of one thing: someone was watching.

  A bell jingled as she swung open the glass door to the lobby and stalked inside.

  “Where’s Trent?” Madelyn asked the smiling woman as she walked to the counter. A metal nametag pinned to her shirt read Kelsey.

  “Shift change,” Kelsey reported, looking a little taken aback by Madelyn’s direct question. “How can I help you?”

  Madelyn glanced at her watch. One fifteen was an odd time for a shift change. She debated tactics. Being nice usually got her the information she wanted. What had happened back there in her room had thrown her off balance and she felt violated. There was no better way to describe her emotions. She still couldn’t figure out who would have an issue with her. The envelope Ed Staples had handed her was sealed. Based on the way he’d examined her features when she’d first arrived and his knowledge of the origin of her mother’s necklace, he had to have known the contents. Personally, she didn’t know the man from Adam, so she couldn’t get a good read on him. Was he a loyal employee to Mike Butler? A personal friend? Or was he closer to the family? Did he feel sorry for them and decide to take matters into his own hands?

  He’d seemed honest and even a little bit caring, but maybe it was an act. People faked friendly all the time, smiling at strangers when they were really just trying to get their own way. She’d seen people try to manipulate others using charm tons of times in her line of work. Her profession had also taught her that people had two faces, the one they showed the public and the one they kept to themselves. Both were real. And she could never be certain which one she was getting. Until a tipping point happened...

  “Who has access to my room?” Maybe Trent was friends with one of the Butler kids and figured he’d be doing them a favor by scaring her off. That was probably the best-case scenario.

  “No one.” Kelsey blinked.

  “Not even the front office?” Madelyn pressed. Cattle Barge was a small town. If news had leaked that she was the daughter of Mike Butler then someone could be trying to protect the family. Heck, it could’ve been someone in the family, for all she knew. Was her arrival the tipping point? What about the lawyer reaching out to her? Everyone had to be looked at as a suspect now. />
  “Well, of course, we have acce—”

  “And what about housekeeping?” Madelyn’s hands were fisted at her sides as frustration and fear built inside her, gathering steam. What if she’d been in the room? Would that person have attacked?

  “Well, yes—”

  “Maintenance?”

  Kelsey nodded.

  “So you and countless others do have access to my room.” Madelyn was almost to the point of hysterical now. She took in a slow breath that sounded like a hiss from a heating coil.

  “Did something happen?” Kelsey caught on. Finally, light brightened her eyes as the insinuation dawned on her.

  Part of Madelyn—the frightened child inside her—wanted to deny that any of this was possible. She’d like to write off the whole situation as a bowl of crazy, a landmark bad day. She needed a minute to process the day she was having. More than anything, she needed to hear her father’s—well, hold on now, was Charles Kensington even her father anymore?—voice. But that wasn’t an option. No matter how many times she phoned, he only returned her calls on the first of every month. Today was the ninth.

  Madelyn pulled her cell from her purse. She started punching in those three digits reserved for emergencies. This day had emergency stamped all over it.

  “Ma’am, what are you doing?” Kelsey asked, her voice low.

  “Calling the sheriff,” Madelyn stated as she turned her back on the front desk attendant.

  “There’s no need to do that.” Kelsey’s voice had that quiet calm as she slowly spoke, drawing out her words like she was trying to talk someone out of jumping off the roof.

  “How do you know? I haven’t told you why I’m here yet.” Madelyn turned toward the glass door in time to see a cruiser pull into the parking lot. He was coming in dark, meaning no lights or sirens.

  “I’m sorry. You were so upset and yelling at me, so I hit the panic button my boss had installed under the counter.” Now Kelsey sounded nervous.

  “Why would I hurt you?” Madelyn heard the irony there. She was being stalked and Kelsey had hit the panic button over a few direct words. This time she blew out a slower breath that sounded less like a hiss. “It doesn’t matter. Someone broke into my room and I want to file a report anyway. Call and tell them that you hit the button on accident. That we’re okay in here.”

  Silence.

  “Kelsey, I’m not in the mood to play games. Would I turn my back to you like this if I was here to hurt you? Make the call.” Madelyn swiveled around, hands up. “All I was doing was retrieving my cell so that I could call the sheriff.”

  Kelsey gave a nervous smile before she picked up the phone.

  * * *

  HUDSON COULDN’T STOP thinking about the stranger, about Madelyn. The sheriff had written the incident off too easily as road rage and hadn’t paid enough attention to the fact that she had an angry ex-boyfriend. Even though this wasn’t Hudson’s business, he put away Bullseye and then climbed into his pickup truck. All he planned to do was drive down to the sheriff’s office and put a bug in the man’s ear. Sawmill was distracted and anyone could see that he had too much on his plate. Hudson didn’t plan to insult the sheriff. He’d find a tactful way to plant the seed about her ex.

  Twenty minutes later he was pulling into the parking lot. There was media everywhere and a flock rushed his truck until they got a good look at the driver, realized he wasn’t a Butler and dispelled.

  He pushed through the mob to the front door, relieved when the lobby was clear. There was a constant hum of chatter from an adjacent room and he suspected that was a “war room” set up for receiving tips and leads on the Mike Butler murder.

  “How are you, Hudson?” Doris asked, rolling her eyes at the craziness going on. She was midfifties and the type who made it her personal mission to know what everyone in town—and in his case, just out of town—was up to. She was also an old friend of his mother’s before she’d passed away. Lucky for her Hudson’s mother had died years before she could be embarrassed by her son. Hudson performed a mental headshake. He wasn’t there to think about his own shortcomings and misery.

  “Better now that I’ve had a chance to see you.” The line was cheesy as all get-out but Doris didn’t seem to mind.

  She smiled so hard her cheeks turned six shades past pink.

  “And you’re a flatterer,” she quipped with that smile intact.

  Hudson’s gaze drifted to the makeshift command post that had been set up in the adjacent conference room. He heard the buzz of intake volunteers taking calls.

  “Looks like you’re staying busy.” He forced his gaze away from the room and back to Doris. He’d read the stories about Maverick Mike and then Ella Butler.

  “Us?” Doris glanced around. “Darn right. This town hasn’t seen anything like this in all my considerable years. It’s a train wreck in here, if you ask me. I don’t remember the last time the sheriff left for more than four hours to sleep. His heart won’t take it at this pace.”

  Pens were lined up in neat rows on her desk next to a line of pencils. She had a notepad positioned on her desk in front of her and her computer was off to one side. A woman like Doris was old-school and would prefer to write things down over spending her days glued to a screen. Hudson was sure she subscribed to the old thinking that staring at the TV too long could make a person go blind.

  “Are you trying to convince me that you’d let things get out of control?” He perched on the edge of her desk and she immediately shooed him off it.

  “There are other, more qualified people in town who could act as a consultant if they saw fit.” The insinuation was that he, being from a big city like Houston, would be more equipped to deal with hard-core crimes, like, say murder. Hudson leaned to one side to avoid the proverbial hand grenade being tossed at him. He had no plans to touch that statement. His days in law enforcement were over.

  “What brings you all the way into town?” She blinked her eyes up at him like she was ready for him to tell her the sky was falling.

  “Can’t I check on my favorite person once in a while?” He wasn’t ready to tip his hand. Gauging from the chaos in the office, the sheriff didn’t have the resources to properly address the reporter’s incident. And that worried Hudson for reasons he shouldn’t care about. He’d done his part, played the role of Good Samaritan. If he had any sense he’d turn around, walk out that door and let a sleeping dog alone.

  Instead, he took a seat across from Doris and leaned forward.

  “Thanks for the habanero peppers, by the way. Diced some up and threw them in the pan with a pair of eggs this morning. Best breakfast I’ve had in months,” he said.

  “There’s something about homegrown that gives ’em that extra kick of flavor.” Her eyes lit up. His mom used to joke that her friend grew a garden in small part to feed herself and in large part so that she could stop by and check on her friends on a regular basis. “If you’d come around more often, I’d send you home with all you want. I always grow more than I can use in case someone’s in need.”

  “Now I’m a charity case?” Hudson joked but a pang of guilt nailed him. He’d been content to stick to his ranch. Heck, he’d have his groceries delivered if it meant never leaving his property. The place was the only thing keeping him sane after everything he’d lost and he’d pretty much lost everything.

  Once again, he had to ask himself why he was sitting in the sheriff’s office.

  “Is the boss around?” He glanced toward the hallway.

  “Afraid not. Everything all right?” Concern creased her forehead.

  “With me? Yeah. I was just checking on a friend,” he said.

  “Since when do you have a friend in town?” Her brow shot up.

  The phone rang. She excused herself to take the call.

  Hudson had almost talked himself into slipping out the door while she was p
reoccupied with the conversation. Until he heard her say the name Madelyn Kensington.

  “Where is she?” Doris asked.

  Hudson leaned a little closer to Doris’s desk.

  “The Red Rope Inn, got it,” she said low into the receiver. “I’ll sure tell the sheriff when he returns. Should be half an hour or so.”

  Did something happen to Madelyn?

  “She’s hysterical? What about?” Doris asked into the phone. “Okay. I got it. I’ll let him know. Thank you for the call.” Before Doris could end her conversation and delay Hudson with questions, he was out the door.

  Madelyn was in trouble. He’d heard it in Doris’s voice. The Red Rope Inn was eighteen minutes from there, according to his GPS device. He glanced at the route, confident he could make it in ten.

  Hudson zipped in and out of cars. The deputy on duty wouldn’t appreciate any interference with his investigation, so Hudson needed to think of a good excuse to show up. Mentioning Doris might get her in trouble, and based on his proximity, he had about two minutes to come up with a plausible excuse.

  The parking lot was quiet. All the action was going on inside the lobby, Hudson noticed as he searched for Madelyn through the glass. His pulse calmed a notch when he saw her—saw that she was okay—and he didn’t want to care as much as he did. He told himself it was the action he missed and not the person who’d occupied his thoughts since she’d driven away.

  “I couldn’t get ahold of you on your cell.” He made a beeline toward Madelyn with the pretense they were a couple. The bell gave away his presence the second the door moved.

  Her gaze flew to him and he couldn’t immediately discern if his being there was a good thing or not.

  “Why are you here?” The shock in her voice gave away the answer...not thrilled.

  Chapter Five

  Deputy Hank Harley stepped in between Hudson and Madelyn, blocking the path. The deputy’s left hand came up, palm aimed at Hudson, and his right remained firmly on the butt of his Glock. He was ready for that split-second decision that might come where he had to pull his weapon and fire. The action was so automatic that most cops kept a hand on their gun even during what many would consider routine traffic stops. Officers knew that traffic stops were right up there with domestic disturbance calls in terms of threat to an officer’s safety. Hudson didn’t know Harley on a personal level. He’d done his best to keep his presence as quiet as possible since returning to Cattle Barge a year ago, which meant Harley didn’t know him or his background. That could be dangerous if Hudson charged in like a bull, so he stopped and made sure his hands were visible to the deputy.

 

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