Cowboy's Legacy (The Montana Cahills)

by B. J Daniels

  “If you hurt Maggie, so help me, I’ll...I’ll kill you,” Flint yelled as the two deputies pulled him off her.

  Celeste leaned back against the wall, her eyes wide with fear as she touched her throat where Flint’s hands had been only moments before. She was gasping for breath.

  “You really do hate me, don’t you.” She was the only one in the room who sounded calm.

  “Get him out of here,” Mark said to the other deputy, who quickly ushered him out of the room. He heard Mark say, “Let’s all take it easy.”

  “I want a restraining order against that man,” Celeste said, sounding not just calm now, but pleased. “And I want assault charges filed against him,” he heard her say before the door closed behind him.

  * * *

  MARK SIGHED AS the door closed behind the deputy and Flint. How had the sheriff known he was interrogating Celeste? Harp, he thought with a curse. He’d been there this morning when Celeste and her husband came in.

  “Let’s sit back down,” he said, worried what was about to happen now.

  Celeste looked over at her husband. Wayne hadn’t moved during all that. Nor had he said a word. He still had his head down as if studying the top of the interrogation table. “Wayne? Do you hear me? I want Flint fired.” She began to cry as she touched her throat. “I want him thrown in jail. I want him...” She glared at Mark. “I want him behind bars. I don’t feel...safe.”

  “I don’t condone the sheriff’s behavior,” the undersheriff said. “But given the earlier stunts you pulled on Flint, I can understand his frustration. He believes you’re lying. He believes you have harmed Maggie. He believes you are willing to let her die rather than tell the truth.”

  Celeste’s gaze was tear-free and ice-cold when she settled it on him. “I wish I had taken her. I wouldn’t have brought her back. It would serve him right.”

  Wayne lifted his head to look over at her, his expression filled with horror.

  As if realizing how damning her words were, Celeste quickly began to cry. Through her sobs, she swore she hadn’t taken Maggie.

  “This isn’t the first time you’ve threatened Maggie,” Mark said. “I believe the words you wrote on the mirror at the beauty shop were ‘Die Bitch.’ If you had anything to do with Maggie being injured at her house and disappearing, we need to find out before it’s too late. If Maggie is found alive before anything else happens to her, things will go much easier on you.”

  “I told you I don’t know anything about the beauty-shop break-in or Maggie disappearing,” Celeste said through her tears. “Just because I didn’t want Flint getting tied down with that...woman—”

  “Celeste,” Duma snapped, raising his head again to glare at her. “For God’s sake, if you did something to this poor woman—”

  Mark could see that they weren’t getting anywhere. He didn’t have enough to lock Celeste up. Better to keep a tail on her. Maybe she would lead them to Maggie. Or, given the obvious feelings she had for the woman, maybe not. Wherever Maggie was, if Celeste had left her there, he didn’t think she’d be going back for her.

  “Since you have nothing to hide, you won’t mind if we inspect your vehicle,” Mark said. “We’ll be able to tell how many miles you went since Maggie disappeared and even possibly where you went.”

  “You’ll need to get a warrant,” Celeste snapped as she dug in her purse for a tissue.

  “You won’t need a warrant,” Wayne said with a sigh. “The vehicle is in my name. You have my permission to keep it as long as you like. I just had it serviced before Celeste took it, so you should be able to get the information you need easily enough. Also, we have the navigation service. I’ll make sure they work with you.”

  Celeste’s eyes flared with anger as Wayne rose to his feet. “I mean what I said,” she snapped, turning back to Mark. “I want Flint arrested for attacking me.”

  “I didn’t see anyone attack you,” Wayne said, making both Mark and Celeste turn to look at him. “I think you’re lying again.”

  “What?” she demanded, clearly in shock. “He just had to be pulled off of me. You were sitting right here. You saw what happened. You witnessed it.”

  Wayne smiled. “But it’s your word against mine, Celeste.”

  Her gaze shot to Mark. “You had to have him pulled off me.”

  He said nothing, waiting to see how this played out.

  She clamped her jaw tight, eyes narrowing. “I see what the two of you are doing.” Her face was a mask of anger. “I might have driven by his house, but I didn’t touch a hair on that bitch’s head. However, I do have bruises on my neck that prove that Flint tried to kill me.”

  “How do we know it wasn’t like last time when you hurt yourself to make it look like I abused you?” Wayne asked, his voice deadly low.

  All the color drained from Celeste’s face.

  “I guess we’re done here for now, then,” Mark said, getting to his feet. “But I have to ask you not to leave town, Mrs. Duma.”

  She shot him a withering look. “How could I since you’ll have my SUV?” Celeste looked indignant as she met his gaze. “Everyone always wants to blame me. But you have to believe me. This time, I didn’t do anything.”

  “This time,” Duma said with a groan. He looked at Mark. “I can’t let her talk to you again without a lawyer present,” he said almost apologetically to the undersheriff. Without looking at Celeste, he started for the door.

  “I didn’t do anything,” Celeste said, practically stomping her feet in frustration.

  “If you can’t tell the truth, then just keep your mouth shut,” Wayne said.

  Mark saw her appalled face. There would be hell to pay when Celeste and Wayne got home. He hoped he didn’t get another domestic dispute call from that house tonight.

  “This isn’t over,” she snapped and stormed out after her husband.

  * * *

  FLINT HAD HIS head in his hands and a deputy at the door to keep him from leaving his own office. He couldn’t believe what he’d done. What scared him most was that he would do it again if he got the chance. Celeste was lying. He knew it gut deep.

  But still, he shouldn’t have burst in there. He shouldn’t have grabbed her. All the years of problems with her had surfaced in the perfect storm. He’d never put his hands on a woman like that, never thought he ever would. That Celeste had pushed him to that point terrified him. What if the lawmen hadn’t been there to pull him off her?

  His cell phone rang. He checked it, not interested in talking to anyone but Maggie. But when he saw it was Frank calling, he took it.

  “I wanted to update you on what we’ve gotten so far,” the PI said.

  He only half listened, even more convinced that some man in a brown van hadn’t taken Maggie. He realized that he’d missed something. “Wait—did you just say you’re on your way to Radville, North Dakota?”

  “Nettie has her heart set on it,” Frank joked. “We want to talk to Jenna’s friend. Don’t worry—this is on the house. We think this Clark person might be the man in the brown van. Reiner said the plates on the van weren’t Wyoming or Montana. We’re thinking they could have been North Dakota. I know it’s a stretch.”

  “No, that’s good. But I’m still paying.” He heard Mark coming down the hallway. “I have to go. Let me know where you’re staying in Radville. If you can’t reach me, call my brother Hawk. I might be in jail for a while.” He disconnected as the undersheriff came into the room. “I’m sorry,” Flint said, lifting his head when he heard Mark walk into the room. “I lost it. I couldn’t help it. I’m sure they’re filing charges. I just hope I can make bail.”

  Mark walked around to his desk and sat down. He motioned for the deputy to leave them alone. “No one is filing charges.”

  Flint looked up at him in surprise from the chair where he
sat.

  “I’m as surprised as you are that you won’t be spending Christmas behind bars. That is where you should be.”

  “I don’t know what possessed me.”

  “Sure you do,” Mark said, leaning back in his chair. “I wanted to shake the truth out of her too. You’ve had years of her lies.”

  That surprised him. If anyone was by the book, it was his undersheriff.

  “Celeste wanted you sent straight to prison, but her husband defended you. He said he didn’t see anything.”

  Flint blinked. “Why would he do that?”

  “From what I gathered, he still might have some resentment toward her after she called 9-1-1 and said her husband had hit her.”

  He nodded. “Then later she just happened to remember that Wayne wasn’t even in the house and that she must have fallen down.”

  “You think she purposely injured herself to try to...frame him?”

  Flint sighed. “We’re talking about Celeste. She will do whatever it takes to get what she wants. I shouldn’t have lost it with her, but she’s the most lying, conniving woman I’ve ever met. I wouldn’t put anything past her.”

  “Including attacking and abducting Maggie.”

  He nodded, feeling the weight of his building grief. “It’s been too long. If Maggie’s injured...”

  “We’re following every lead. I’m hoping Celeste’s car will give us some idea of where she went.”

  “You have an eyewitness who saw her in my neighborhood right before Maggie disappeared. Maybe if you arrested her...”

  Mark shook his head. “If she took Maggie, she might lead us to her. Also, Alma remembered that the woman driving was blonde and ID’d Celeste. But she’s admitted driving past. Unfortunately, Alma can’t swear that Celeste pulled in at your house. She did slow down, though, before Alma lost sight of her behind the trees.”

  Flint swore, knowing he was right. He was glad that Mark was in charge of the investigation. “I’m not thinking clearly. Of course you’re right.”

  “That’s why I’m tempted to lock you up for your own good,” his undersheriff said. “Another stunt like you just pulled and—”

  “I know. I would do the same thing if it was you. I keep thinking about Anvil Holloway when his wife disappeared. I never appreciated what he’d been going through. All those months...” He shook his head. “You have my cell number if—”

  “If we get any word of Maggie, you know I’ll call. But, Flint, if you go near Celeste—”

  He nodded. “I won’t. I can’t. I honestly am not sure what I would do if I found out that she has Maggie.”

  “That is not what I wanted to hear,” Mark said.

  CHAPTER NINE

  MAGGIE WOKE AS if from a bad dream. She felt sticky with perspiration and sick to her stomach. She fought to open her eyes against the lethargy that made her body feel made of clay.

  Her mind felt as thick as her tongue. She licked parched lips and tried to swallow. So thirsty. That was the thought that pulled her to the surface.

  Her eyes came half-open to reveal what appeared to be vertical metal bars. She was in jail? She closed them again as she struggled to wake up and make sense of what she was seeing.

  A memory of being tied down made her pulse jump. She blinked, recalling the bright light in her face and someone putting something on her temple.

  Her hand went to her temple. She felt a bandage. Her eyes flew open as she realized she was no longer bound—but she was still a prisoner. She was surrounded by thick metal bars.

  She struggled to sit up, but felt too weak. Her gaze focused on the twin bed under her and then the bars around the twin-bed mattress. There appeared to be a way for the bars to be lowered on one side like a baby’s crib, but as she sat up, she saw that the latch was out of her reach. She glanced upward, looking for a way to escape, only to see that there were also bars across the top.

  Her brain finally kicked in. She was in a cage!

  As panic coursed through her veins, igniting her pulse, she grabbed one of the bars and pulled herself to her feet. The bars felt achingly cold in her hands. The cage had been made out of old bed frames bound together. Gripping them tightly, she shook the outside of the cage. It had only minimal give, rattling just a little. It felt too solid. She wasn’t getting out of there unless someone unlocked it.

  How did I get here? Where am I? Who put me in here? Why?

  Her mind whirled as she took in what appeared to be a normal little girl’s bedroom—except for this giant bed cage on one side of it.

  “Help!” she screamed. “Help! Someone help me!” She screamed until her throat hurt and she was too hoarse to scream anymore.

  There either wasn’t anyone out there or maybe they couldn’t hear her. The thought terrified her. Someone had left her to starve? Now more than ever she needed something to drink. As she thought it, she saw the water bottle at the end of the bed. She dropped down and grabbed it. There was only a swallow in the bottom of it. Had she drunk the rest? Or was this all she was getting maybe ever?

  She thought she should save a little of it, but as she lifted it to her lips, she couldn’t stop herself. She drank it all down and wished for more. That was when she saw the plastic urinal tucked in the end of the bed.

  What else had she missed? She quickly dug, hoping for something to eat, but found nothing else. Angrily, she threw the empty bottle toward the bedroom door and thought about hurling the urinal as well, but stopped herself.

  Exhaustion and remnants of the drug pulled at her. Her gaze went to the sheets. She blinked as she saw the design. With a frown, she noticed that the comforter matched.

  When she was little all she’d wanted was a Cabbage Patch doll. For three Christmases she’d asked Santa for one, but she’d never gotten one. That was when she’d realized that there was no Santa. At least not for her, a girl whose mother had died in childbirth and who was now being raised by an elderly aunt.

  The message had seemed to be that if she wanted something, she would have to get it herself.

  That hadn’t worked out well, either. She’d taken a neighbor girl’s doll. Her aunt had made her feel like a criminal. After that, she often saw her aunt watching her, expecting the worst.

  Since then she’d had to fight for everything, even her own survival at times, and the weight of that unfairness had never been worse than it was at this moment. She stared down at the sheets, realizing that she hadn’t even known as a child that they made Cabbage Patch sheets. Not that her aunt would have ever bought her something so frivolous.

  Suddenly tears blurred her eyes as Maggie thought of how much she’d missed out on that had nothing to do with dolls or sheets or anything that could have been bought. She was the girl without a mother—or a father, for that matter. An oddity that even her aunt had trouble loving. And now her one chance to be loved, to find happiness with Flint, had been snatched away from her. All the fight going out of her, she lay down on the bed and sobbed.

  * * *

  HARP SMILED TO himself as he drove away from the office. His plan couldn’t have gone better. He’d known Flint would go down to the sheriff’s office and make a fuss. What he hadn’t expected was for the man to completely lose it.

  Laughing, he recalled how shocked everyone had been. Like him, they must have thought Flint had a heart of stone. Instead, it turned out that the man had more than a little passion in him. If Mark and the other deputy hadn’t pulled him off his ex-wife, Flint would be behind bars for murder.

  As it was, somehow he’d skated. Why hadn’t charges been filed against him? Those Cahills, he thought with disgust.

  But he was in too good of a mood to think about them and how Lady Luck seemed to smile on them. Well, most of the time. He reminded himself that Flint’s girlfriend was gone, maybe even dead. There was that
.

  He preferred to think about the scene Flint had made. It would get around town, and when the next election rolled around—if Flint held it together that long—Harp the Hero had a good chance of being the next sheriff.

  His smile widened as he considered what he could do to make his chances better. With a groan, he realized there was something he’d been putting off. The county might be more apt to vote for a married man with a family. He nodded to himself at the thought. It was time to marry Vicki before the baby came.

  He imagined her surprise when he told her she needed to start planning their wedding. She’d been acting...weird lately. He’d just thought it was the pregnancy.

  But what if it was something more? He cursed under his breath as he recalled baring his soul to her at the hospital. What had he been thinking? Now she had him over a barrel for life. Unless... He frowned. Was it possible she didn’t want him anymore? Didn’t want him to be the father of her baby?

  Panic whirled through him for a few moments before he laughed and glanced at himself in the rearview mirror. He was Harper Cole, one of the most eligible bachelors in town, and once he was sheriff...

  He laughed again at his own foolishness. Vicki was a former waitress and not even a good one. She couldn’t do any better than him. She had to know that. And if she didn’t, then maybe it was time he reminded her.

  * * *

  UNDERSHERIFF MARK RAMIREZ studied the information obtained from Celeste Duma’s vehicle. Her husband had said he’d had the car serviced the day before she’d left town allegedly to go to a spa in Paradise Valley.

  He checked the mileage on the car the day it was serviced, then the mileage now. Celeste had driven over seven hundred miles. It took him only a minute to check the mileage from Gilt Edge to the Paradise Valley spa. Only three hundred and eighty miles round-trip—and Celeste had said she’d never reached it, but had stopped on the way and stayed in a motel.

  So how did she explain the more than three hundred extra miles on her car?

  She’d lied about where she’d gone.

  Mark swore. No wonder Flint had lost control and tried to choke it out of the woman. Celeste had been lying—just as the sheriff had said. But did her lie have something to do with Maggie Thompson’s disappearance? That was the question he needed answered.