Cowboy's Legacy (The Montana Cahills)

by B. J Daniels

  He picked up the phone and called the Duma house. Wayne answered. “We’ve checked the mileage on the car. Unfortunately, the navigation system had been turned off. But it appears that Mrs. Duma didn’t go where she said she did. I’m going to need to talk to her again.”

  He heard Wayne swear before he said, “I see.”

  “I’d like her to come back down to the sheriff’s department.”

  “And if she refuses?”

  “Given the other things we know she’s done to Maggie, I’ll ask Judge McDonald to sign a warrant for her arrest.”

  * * *

  FLINT FELT LOST as he stopped at the saloon. He’d been driving around for hours, checking every old barn, every old building, every place he’d ever been with Celeste that might make a good place to hide a person—or a body.

  His work was such a part of him that without it, he didn’t know what to do with himself. Everywhere he looked, he saw Christmas decorations. Not that many hours ago he’d been planning his and Maggie’s first Christmas together as an engaged couple.

  As time passed with no word of her, he couldn’t bear the thought of the holidays without her. He’d been raised to pull up his boots and tackle whatever life threw at him. Celeste had done her best to destroy him, but he’d survived her and thought that he could withstand just about anything after that.

  But this... He considered meeting Frank and Nettie in North Dakota. Not that they needed him. They’d found Jenna Holloway’s best childhood friend. Now he just had to wait and see what they learned. Anyway, he was on paid leave. He wasn’t supposed to be working any cases.

  The waiting, though, was killing him. He felt as if he was coming apart at the seams. And the one thing he couldn’t do was go near Celeste. He’d gotten off easy the last time. He wouldn’t count on it again and he would be of no use to Maggie behind bars. But he was of no use to her right now.

  “You look terrible,” his sister, Lillie, said when he walked in.

  “Thanks.”

  “Seriously, is there anything we can do?” his brother Darby asked. Hawk and Cyrus had made the same offer.

  He shook his head as he pulled up a stool at the bar. “Thanks, really, but there is nothing any of us can do. Mark is doing everything he can to find Maggie. All we can do is wait.”

  Lillie sat down beside him and put her arm around him. “We’re going to find her.”

  He nodded, not sure he believed that. Too much time had passed.

  “You want a beer or something stronger?” Darby asked.

  “Just a cola.”

  “What about something to eat? I’m sure Billie Dee—”

  “Thanks, Lillie, but I’m not hungry.” Silence filled the saloon. He looked around, surprised the place was empty. He hadn’t even noticed when he’d walked in. “Where is everyone?”

  “Probably Christmas shopping,” Darby said. “It will pick up later.”

  “I’m worried about Maggie, but I’m just as worried about you,” his sister said. She exchanged a look with her twin brother. “We heard what happened at the sheriff’s department.”

  He’d known word would travel fast, especially if Harp had anything to do with it. “I lost control. It’s not like me.”

  “No kidding,” Lillie said.

  “Who could blame you under the circumstances,” Darby said. “You really think Celeste took Maggie?”

  “I know she’s lying about something. Maybe the answer will be in her car. If she took Maggie somewhere, we might be able to find her before it’s too late.”

  “What do you mean, if Celeste took her?” Lillie asked. “Of course she did. Look at all the other things she’s done to her.”

  “There is no proof that she did any of those things,” Flint said with a sigh. “She’s been careful so far and made sure she didn’t leave behind any evidence. Maybe we’ll get lucky. Maybe she slipped up this time.”

  “I have to go,” Lillie said as her phone buzzed. “Doctor appointment.” She patted her stomach. “Please take care of yourself,” she said and hugged him so tightly that he thought he might burst into tears.

  And all this time, he’d thought he was holding up so well.

  “Lillie’s right. It has to be Celeste,” Darby said. “Who else would want to harm Maggie?”

  The question played in his head. Yes, who? That was just it—he had no idea. Why had he never pushed Maggie for more information about her past? Because it had been clear she didn’t want to share it. Something bad had happened. He knew that much. And it had involved a man.

  Flint felt a prickle of doubt run over the back of his neck as he took a sip of the cola Darby set in front of him. What if he was wrong? What if Celeste was telling the truth for once in her life? What if she hadn’t taken Maggie?

  He heard a sound and turned to find Mariah had come in and stopped in the middle of the room. He hadn’t heard her enter the saloon. Darby had said she was upstairs resting. He saw her expression. “Mariah?”

  She had one hand over her stomach, fingers splayed out. The other was over her mouth. Her eyes were closed, but tears were leaking from beneath her eyelids.

  “Mariah?” She was scaring him. He said her name softly as he slid off his stool and stepped toward her, but still she flinched.

  Darby, seeing that she was in some sort of pain, rushed to her. “What is it? Mariah? Is it the baby?”

  She shook her head, her dark eyes slowly opening. They focused on Flint. He saw her swallow. “Maggie...” Her voice broke.

  He felt his blood turn to ice. He heard his sister’s voice in his head. Her grandmother was a fortune-teller. Mariah says she doesn’t have the sight. But I think she’s afraid of it and pretends she doesn’t know things. Isn’t it cool? We have a psychic in our family.

  It was hard for him to even say the words. “Mariah, if you know something...” Flint saw her start to shake her head. “Or even sense something, please. Anything will help.”

  She took a deep breath and let it out. She looked to her husband. Darby nodded and took her hand in both of his. “I can’t even be sure it’s Maggie. But when I saw you sitting there, I felt...something.”

  “Please.” All his pain came out in that one word.

  “If it’s her, she’s alive. Her head hurts.” She closed her eyes again for a moment. “She’s somewhere damp and dark.” She frowned. “Not above ground. Maybe a basement? She’s...alone and...scared. It’s quiet there. No traffic.” Mariah shook her head. “That’s all I feel and I’m not sure you can trust it. But I had this strong sense of...aching love and regret.”

  “Thank you,” Flint said, his voice barely a whisper. He’d never believed in any of this. He knew other police departments often called in psychics. But right now he desperately wanted to believe that Mariah was right and Maggie was alive. They just had to find her.

  His cell phone rang. He quickly checked it. Mark. His heart began to pound as he took the call. Let Maggie be found alive and well. Let what Mariah said be true. “Cahill.” His voice broke.

  “I’m bringing Celeste back in for questioning. Do not show up.”

  “I won’t. What did you find?”

  He listened as Mark filled him in on what they’d obtained from her SUV. “She went seven hundred miles, so she’s lying about driving toward Paradise Valley,” Mark said. “That’s only a little over a three-hundred-and-eighty round-trip and she never made it that far, according to her. Any idea where she might have gone?”

  His pulse drummed in his ears. Celeste had lied about where she’d gone. She had taken Maggie, just as he’d thought. “Did you find her gun?”

  Mark seemed to hesitate. “We found it in the car.”

  So maybe he was right and it was premeditated. He hoped Celeste burned in hell for this. “I have no idea where she migh
t have gone.” He thought of what Mariah had said. “But my sister-in-law...” He hesitated. “She sensed something about Maggie. She says she’s somewhere damp and dark belowground. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere like a grave. When you ask Celeste, she’s going to lie.”

  “I know. But if she does, I’m going to arrest her.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  SEVEN HUNDRED MILES? Flint drove back to the ranch, staring out at the falling snow and imagining Celeste behind the wheel of her big SUV. She couldn’t have gone that far without stopping for gas at least a couple of times. There would be a record, but that would take time to track down. Unless she used cash.

  If she’d had that much cash, then it would mean all of this had been premeditated. He tried to get his head around it. Had she been following Maggie for weeks? Possibly. Maybe the run-in at the market had been planned. That thought shook him. He and Maggie had thought that his ex had backed off and all this time she’d been stalking Maggie?

  Originally he had thought Maggie’s abduction had to have been spur-of-the-moment. Celeste had been upset about Maggie moving in with him. She’d driven by his house, seen Maggie’s car, pulled in. She hadn’t planned to hurt Maggie.

  But she had taken the gun Wayne said he’d bought her. So she could have been armed when she went into the house. The two had argued—that much was obvious. But then what? Had she pulled the gun on Maggie? Was that why Maggie had gotten into her vehicle and left with her?

  He still believed that Celeste had panicked and had no choice but to force Maggie to go with her. He could hear Maggie telling him that he underestimated just how vindictive Celeste could be. He’d tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. No wonder for a while Maggie had thought he still felt something for his ex. He just didn’t want to believe that he’d married such a woman.

  Seven hundred miles. He kept coming back to that. How far would Celeste have been able to get? Gilt Edge was practically the center of the state. If he were to mark off three hundred and fifty miles radius... He grabbed an old atlas from downstairs and made a circle around Gilt Edge with a pen. If Celeste went three hundred and fifty miles one way from Gilt Edge, it would take her to Canada, North Dakota, clear to Wyoming and... He slowed as he was circling through Western Montana and quickly checked the mileage on the atlas chart.

  He let out a curse. Flathead Lake was three hundred and thirty miles from Gilt Edge. Hadn’t he heard that Celeste and Wayne had a lake house on Flathead? A lake house with a basement?

  * * *

  DEPUTY HARPER COLE couldn’t believe what a fool he was. He was driving down the main drag headed for the shitty apartment he and Vicki shared, when it hit him. He couldn’t just ask Vicki to marry him. He needed a ring.

  “It’s time you started taking responsibility for your future,” he said to himself, mimicking his father’s stern voice as he swung into the local pawnshop parking lot.

  Just the thought of his father, the mayor, made him grind his teeth.

  “What are you going to do about this woman you’ve...impregnated?” the mayor had demanded the last time they’d spoken.

  “You make it sound so romantic,” he’d quipped.

  His father had rolled his eyes in response.

  “I don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll marry her.”

  “You probably could do worse.”

  Nice, he thought now. Well, he’d show his old man. He would step up. He’d show the whole town. Almost dying had made him a new man. That and everyone in the county thinking he was a hero.

  The idea of being a family man appealed to him more than he ever thought it would. He now saw it as a fresh start. People would forget about the old Harper Cole—not that he saw anything wrong with him.

  But if he hoped to be sheriff, he had to look good. He felt a shiver of excitement because he’d finally made up his mind. He could see his future, the wife and child at his side as he was sworn in as sheriff. This baby could be the best thing that had ever happened to him. Harp Cole, a family man.

  He smiled to himself as he pushed through the pawnshop door. “I need an engagement ring,” he said to Larry Wagner, the owner.

  Larry raised a brow before he let out a bark of a laugh. “What would you need that for?” He and Larry had gone to school together. That was back when Larry’s father had run the shop—and run Harp out a couple of times, accusing him of stealing.

  “I’m getting married,” Harp said defensively. “It happens.”

  “Not to you.”

  He shrugged. Larry had gotten married right out of high school to Shirley Dale. Harp had never told Larry that he’d been with her only weeks before she and Larry had eloped. Everyone figured she had a bun in the oven and they were right. He’d always wondered if Larry Jr. didn’t look more like him than Larry Sr. But he’d been smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

  “So what ya got?” he asked, stepping up to the counter. “I don’t have a lot of money.”

  “Imagine that,” Larry said as he pulled out a tray of diamond rings.

  Harp considered his options. Almost all of them had either small diamonds or bigger fake diamonds. Vicki would know it wasn’t real if he gave her a big one. Also, given how small her hands were, one of the smaller, cheaper rings would look bigger and better.

  “She has really small hands,” he said as he studied the rings.

  “So you’re marrying that waitress down at Sue’s Diner.”

  “Vicki. Yep, she’s a sweetheart.”

  “I’ll bet. How far along is she?” Larry asked with a chuckle.

  “I resent that,” Harp snapped.

  “Settle down. It happens to the best of us.” He pulled a ring from the tray. “This is a small size. Does that look like it will fit her?”

  He had no idea. “That’s the smallest you have?” he asked, checking out the price taped to it.

  “I can give you 10 percent off. For old times’ sake.” Larry met his gaze in such a way that he felt a little uncomfortable. “We’re almost like family.” Was it possible that Shirley had told him about them?

  “Okay. You take a check?” he asked, reaching for his checkbook in his hip pocket. “Maybe you could throw in a little box for it?”

  Larry made a rude sound. “You haven’t changed. One of the richest kids in town and one of the cheapest.”

  The depiction of him came as a shock. Was that what everyone had thought?

  “My grandfather has money. I never saw any of it and neither did my mother. The Mayor—” as he called his father “—has done okay, but it isn’t like he’s ever cut me any slack. He said he earned his money and I should do the same.”

  “Really?” Larry looked surprised. “You lived in that big house—”

  “My grandfather bought it for my parents as a wedding present. The Mayor says it costs an arm and a leg just to heat it, but my mother loves it.”

  “Well, at least the mayor bought you nice clothes,” Larry continued as if he hadn’t spoken.

  “That was my mother’s doing. She didn’t want me to suffer just because my father is a miserly old bastard.”

  Larry said, “Huh. Guess that explains why I always had to buy the beer at the parties. And I thought you were just cheap.”

  Harp watched him work the price off the ring and bit his tongue. He’d just shared a dark family secret his mother had worked hard to hide and this was the jerk’s reaction?

  “How’s Shirley?” he asked, thinking maybe it was time to share Larry’s dark family secret with him.

  Larry finally got the tape off the ring and now held it up to the light for a moment before his gaze shifted to Harp. “Fine.”

  This time there was no doubt about the look. No reason to update the man. Larry already knew. Or at least suspected. The tension seemed to suck all the air out of the shop. He
was reminded of the night Larry kicked the shit out of a football player from a neighboring town. He’d almost killed the guy before they’d pulled him off. Larry had a hair trigger and seemed to like to draw blood. Harp would be a damned fool to poke this rabid bear.

  “Glad to hear everything’s fine,” Harp managed to say into the deathly silence. “So how much do I make the check out for?”

  Larry gave him a number, and then dug under the counter and pulled out a red box covered in plastic. “This work for you?”

  “Great,” he said as he filled out the check, his hands shaking a little. He just wanted this transaction over with. He handed Larry the check and Larry handed him the little red box. “Nice doing business with you.” Larry said nothing.

  He popped the box open like he would when he asked Vicki to marry him. The diamond caught the light and sparkled. He could just imagine her face when he gave it to her. His earlier excitement returned. “It’s perfect.”

  “Congrats,” Larry said, sounding as if he didn’t mean it.

  “Thanks.” He checked the man’s expression. Larry had just made a nice sale but he didn’t look as happy as he should have been.

  Harp put the box in his pocket and started out of the store. At the door, he almost turned and said something smart. But fortunately, good sense followed him out to his cruiser.

  As he slid behind the wheel, he looked up to see Larry watching him from the front window. It wasn’t over, he thought. If Shirley had confessed...

  He started the cruiser, reminding himself who he was. Deputy Harper Cole, soon to be sheriff. Not a man you wanted to mess with. Larry might be tougher than old buffalo meat, but Harp carried a gun.

  He smiled and flipped Larry the bird as he drove away. He hadn’t forgotten that he’d almost died a few months ago, not because he was anyone’s hero, but because of his own arrogant stupidity.