by B. J Daniels
“Are you ready?” Cash asked, none of the usual warmth or concern in his voice.
With a shock, she realized he was angry with her. He thought she was Jasmine. How much had he heard? She wanted to deny everything, deny she was Jasmine, but she realized right then he wouldn’t have believed her even if she had confessed everything.
“I just need to get my hat out of my car,” she said, feeling sick with shame for an affair she’d never had, for hurting a man she found herself caring about more and more all the time.
“I’ll get it for you,” he said and disappeared into the garage.
She leaned against the garage wall, miserable with what she’d learned. Cash had definitely fallen in love with the wrong woman. Is that why his mother had reacted to her the way she had? Did she know about Jasmine’s affair with Kerrington?
And now they were headed out to the ranch. Molly groaned inwardly. She’d put herself in danger on all fronts. What did she expect pretending to be another woman? This had turned out to be even more reckless than she’d first thought. And heartbreaking as well, she thought as Cash came out with her hat.
CASH WAS STILL SHAKING with anger as he loaded a small picnic basket into his newer model red pickup. He tried not to think about Kerrington or the phone call he’d had just moments before that.
He’d wanted to hit Kerrington. But it wasn’t the first time and he doubted it would be the last.
He hadn’t heard Jasmine leave the house. He’d been on the phone with State Investigator John Mathews. Mathews had called to tell him that he was being relieved as sheriff pending the conclusion of the investigation.
“You’re taking this better than I expected,” Mathews had said.
Cash had wanted to tell him that Jasmine might be alive. But he heard himself say, “Not much I can do about it. With luck, the case will be solved soon.”
Mathews had cleared his throat and Cash had known there was more coming. He had held his breath, afraid Mathews would tell him that they’d found Jasmine’s body.
“There was a murder. Coroner puts it at about 4:00 a.m. The bartender out at the Mello Dee.”
With a shock, Cash had realized he hadn’t been called. So he’d been relieved of his duties yesterday and Mathews just hadn’t told him.
“Name was Teresa Clark. You know her?” Mathews had asked.
For a moment, Cash had wondered if he was a suspect in her murder, too. Then he’d realized that the question was a normal one given that he was from here and Mathews was out of Billings, hours away.
“No, but I heard the Mello Dee had sold and was under new management,” he’d said.
“We’ll be investigating the murder, along with still searching the farm for…remains.” Remains.
Cash had said nothing, waiting for what had to be coming next.
“That blue paint chip you took from Jasmine Wolfe’s car,” Mathews had said. “The lab says it’s from a Ford pickup. I believe you drove a blue Ford pickup seven years ago.”
Cash had closed his eyes. “A lot of people drove blue Ford pickups seven years ago. It must have been their most popular color.”
Mathews had said nothing. “Where can I reach you if I need to talk to you?”
“Just give me a call on my cell phone. I’m not going anywhere.”
Mathews had sounded relieved to hear that.
As Cash had hung up, he’d caught a glimpse of Kerrington through the window. By the time he reached the front door, Kerrington was dragging Jasmine around the side of the garage.
Cash raked a hand through his hair now and swore, remembering what he’d overhead.
Molly came up behind him. He didn’t turn. Didn’t want to face her right now. What he’d heard between her and Kerrington had him too upset and he didn’t want her to see that. Didn’t want her to know what he was feeling right now.
“Cash?”
He felt her hand on his back, the heat coursing through him to his core. He took a breath and let it out slowly before he finally turned and forced himself to smile. “We couldn’t have picked a more beautiful day for a horseback ride around the ranch.”
MOLLY TRIED TO RELAX as she climbed into the front seat of Cash’s pickup. They wouldn’t be taking the patrol car. She was thankful for that, thinking this way they would attract less attention.
Cash was still upset. He was trying to hide it, but she’d been reading people for too much of her life not to see it. She was torn with a need to warn Cash that she believed Kerrington might have killed Jasmine—and yet not give herself away.
“I was thinking about what you said yesterday about Jasmine not getting into a car except with someone she knew,” Molly said carefully.
He shot her a look. “You think she got into the car with Kerrington.”
“He is so angry.”
Cash didn’t drive downtown, but seemed to wander the gravel backstreets, coming out on the edge of town on Main Street, as if he didn’t want to be seen. Didn’t want her to be seen.
Molly slumped down a little in the seat, not wanting another confrontation this morning. If they could just get out of town—
“He does seem awfully angry with Jasmine,” Cash said without looking at her. “Any idea what that is about?”
Not a clue since she wasn’t Jasmine.
“I just thought I should warn you,” she said.
He looked over at her and smiled. “Thanks for your concern.”
She couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not. She shut up and looked out the window, worried what Kerrington would do next.
As Cash turned onto the main highway, Molly looked up and saw a car driving slowly into town. She spotted the Nevada license plates first. Her gaze flew to the two men behind the windshield. Vince and Angel.
Her heart dropped. They’d found her? She flung herself forward, pretending she’d dropped something, as the car slowly passed them. Had they seen her?
“Are you all right?” Cash asked.
“Fine. I just dropped my…lipstick on the floor.” Vince and Angel were in town. It was impossible. Even if they’d followed her…. Not that it mattered. All that mattered was that they’d found her—and she had to disappear and quickly.
She had a tube of lip gloss in her purse. Bent over, she did a sleight of hand, and straightened, the gloss in her fingers. She held it up, smiled foolishly. “Got it.”
As she leaned back, she checked the side mirror. The car had turned in to the Longhorn Café.
“Darn,” Cash said. “I forgot. I need to run one quick errand before we go out to the ranch. You don’t mind do you?”
SHE DID MIND. Cash could see fear in her expression, the same fear he’d seen when she’d spotted the car. Her skin had blanched white under her tan. She looked as if she’d seen a ghost or worse. Nor had he been fooled by why she’d ducked down as the two men had driven by. Nevada plates. Didn’t she say she’d been in Las Vegas?
He’d quickly glanced in his side mirror and memorized the license plate number as she’d bent to retrieve her lipstick. He hadn’t seen where she’d pulled it from, but he was positive she hadn’t dropped it.
“I just need to talk to my sister-in-law for minute,” he said, swinging the pickup around. The two men had gotten out of the car with the Nevada plates and were headed into the Longhorn Café. One was big, the other short and wiry-looking. “I told you she owns the only café in town.”
He thought Jasmine might have a heart attack.
“The café?” she said a little breathlessly, looking down the street as the two men disappeared inside the café. That was definitely fear in her expression. No mistaking it. Who were the men? And why was she was so frightened of them?
“Why don’t I drop you by the house,” he said. “I’m not sure how long this will take. I’m sorry.”
She was so relieved, he almost felt guilty for letting her think he was taking her to the café where the two men had gone. Almost. What was she hiding from him? Something to do with the men. Well, he wo
uld find out soon enough.
He stopped in front of the house. “The door’s open. I won’t be long. I promise.”
She smiled and got out. “Don’t hurry on my account.”
Would she try to take off while he was gone?
“Oh, shoot, I need to get something from the garage first.” He got out. “Make yourself at home.” He waited. She stood for a moment on the sidewalk then headed for the house. He waited until she was inside before he stepped into the garage to make sure her car wasn’t going anywhere.
MOLLY COULDN’T QUIT SHAKING. Vince and Angel were in town. How could they have found her? Not that it mattered. She had to get away. Now.
She hurried upstairs, threw her few belongings into her suitcase and carried it downstairs. Peering out the front window, she saw with a sigh of relief that Cash hadn’t returned. She felt awful running out on him like this. She would call him when she was far enough away he couldn’t find her. Not that he’d come looking for her—once she told him the truth.
Opening the door, she stepped out with her suitcase and turned to close the door behind her.
“Going somewhere?” asked a voice behind her.
CASH PARKED HIS PICKUP behind the Longhorn Café and hurried in through the back door. His sister-in-law’s office was just inside. He stepped into it and waited to catch her attention, motioning her to join him.
“Two men just came into the café. I need their prints,” he said without preamble. He’d known Cassidy his whole life. He’d always thought of her as a sister, which was fortunate since she’d been in love with his brother Rourke since the two were kids.
Cassidy smiled and lifted a brow. “Okay. Nice to see you too, Cash. The honeymoon? Oh, it was wonderful. Your brother Rourke? He’s fine.”
“Sorry. I don’t have much time.”
“It’s okay.” Her smile faded. “I heard the news about Jasmine’s car being found. I’m sorry.”
He nodded.
“So let me guess which two men you want prints on,” she said. She described the two who’d just come in. “Both look like they’ve had some time to lift weights not to mention the prison tattoos.”
Cash wasn’t surprised. “Get me their prints if you can on anything they touch. I’ll stop by later. Thanks. I really appreciate this. I wouldn’t ask but—”
“No need to explain. We’re family,” she said. “Any time you need anything…”
He smiled. “Thanks.” He couldn’t wait to get back to Jasmine but he had to make one more stop. His office. There was a chance Frank might have faxed him the fingerprint results.
He rolled down his window, needing the fresh air to collect his thoughts as he drove the few blocks to his office. He wanted to rush back to the house and make her tell him about the men at the café. And the phone call she’d made last night. He wanted to demand answers. But part of him was afraid she would tell him that she wasn’t Jasmine, and that was something he didn’t want to hear. Not yet.
One thing was clear. Whomever this woman was, she was in some kind of trouble. But was she in trouble because she was Jasmine? Or because she wasn’t?
MOLLY SPUN AROUND TO SEE a tall, slim woman with long dark hair pulled back from a pale, narrow face. Beside her was a smaller woman with mousy-brown hair done in a style much too old for her. She seemed to be standing back as if almost afraid.
“Well,” the taller of the two said on a hasty breath. “You really are alive.”
Molly couldn’t miss the knife edge to her voice. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
The woman laughed. “I heard you were having trouble remembering. I’m Sandra. Your best friend.”
The way Sandra said it, Molly assumed Sandra and Jasmine had been anything but best friends.
“And this is Patty Franklin,” she said dismissively. “We were your roommates.”
Molly looked at Patty, then Sandra. “I’m afraid you’ve gotten the wrong impression….”
“Cut the crap and invite us in,” Sandra said and looked toward the door to the house. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Molly looked into Sandra’s face and saw that she would do whatever it took to keep her from leaving. Picking up her suitcase from where she’d set it on the porch, Molly pushed open the door, seeing no way to avoid this. Telling the women she wasn’t Jasmine wouldn’t do the trick. No one believed her. Molly had done too good of a job becoming Jasmine.
Once in the living room, Molly motioned to the bar and Sandra poured herself a drink, then lit a cigarette. Patty stood, looking nervous and unsure. Molly hurried to find something Sandra could use as an ashtray. If she could get rid of the women before Cash returned—
“Okay, let’s have it,” Sandra snapped, then took a drag on her cigarette, glaring at her through the smoke as she exhaled.
“I beg your pardon?” Molly said.
“What is it you want? Kerrington? He’s yours. Half Bernard’s money? Get a good lawyer, but I’m sure you can have that, too. What else can we give you?” Sandra sounded close to tears, which surprised Molly.
“I don’t want anything.”
Sandra laughed again, a sharp painful sound. “Oh, you always want something. Usually something someone else has.”
Molly looked over at Patty. “Did you all hate Jasmine that much?” She couldn’t hide her surprise or horror.
Sandra narrowed her gaze again. “Are we back to you pretending you’re not Jasmine again?”
“I know I look like Jasmine but my name is Molly. Molly Kilpatrick.”
Sandra sneered at her. “Can we just be honest with each other for a minute? It’s just us girls.”
“Okay,” Molly said. “Why don’t you start with telling me why someone would want me dead?”
Sandra laughed. “You don’t know? You play with people’s lives for your own amusement.”
“Kerrington,” Molly guessed.
Sandra stiffened. “You don’t love him. You never did. You just didn’t want me to have him.”
“I’m sorry.”
Sandra’s eyes were bright and hard with tears. She shook her head as if she didn’t believe her.
“Look, the sheriff sent off my fingerprints so they can be compared with Jasmine’s,” Molly said. “We’ll know in a week or so if I’m Jasmine. But I can tell you right now, I’m not. I don’t expect you to believe me,” she continued before Sandra could argue the point. “But you have nothing to fear from me. I don’t want Kerrington or Bernard’s money or…” She looked at Patty, having almost forgotten about her. The woman looked scared and Molly wondered what she feared Jasmine might want from her. “Or to hurt any of you.”
“If what you say is true, and these fingerprint results will be back in a week and prove you aren’t Jasmine,” Sandra said, “then where are you taking off to in such a hurry?”
“I have some personal business I need to take care of, which has to do with me being Molly Kilpatrick—not Jasmine Wolfe,” she said honestly.
“Right. Whatever you’re up to, Jazz, we aren’t going to let you destroy our lives,” Sandra said. “Not anymore. Don’t try to leave town. We’re going to finish this before any of us leave, understand?”
Sandra’s threat might have scared her if Molly didn’t have two felons after her—one who loved to cut up people.
“Let’s go, Patty,” Sandra said. Patty hadn’t uttered a word the entire time.
As the women left, Molly heard Cash’s pickup pull up out front. She groaned and hurriedly stashed her suitcase behind the couch.
As Sandra and Patty left, Molly saw them pass Cash on the walk. He turned to watch them get into a silver rental sedan and drive away, then turned to see her standing on the porch.
“I guess the word is out,” he said. “You all right?”
She nodded. What did it matter if everyone found out about her now? Vince and Angel had already found her. “Sandra and Patty, roommates of Jasmine’s, just wanted to stop by for a talk.”
“And?” He
looked worried.
“They think I want something from them. They just don’t know what yet.”
His look said he thought the same thing. “Ready to go? It’s about ten miles out to the ranch,” he said, as if he suspected there was nothing she wanted more than to distance herself from here right now.
“Great,” she said. “I’m ready.” This wasn’t what she’d planned when she’d packed her suitcase, but at least she would get out of town for a day. Then tonight, when Cash was asleep, she would retrieve her suitcase from behind the couch and leave.
Chapter Eleven
Molly rolled down her window as Cash had done, letting the wind whip at her short hair. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe. The late morning air chilled her. She tried to calm down, to think.
Vince and Angel were in town. They’d found her. Or at least found out what town she was in—and given the size of Antelope Flats, it wouldn’t be long before they knew where she was hiding.
She couldn’t believe what a mess she’d made of things. Antelope Flats was the one place she’d never expected to be found. Nor that she was jeopardizing Cash’s life just by being with him. She had to leave as soon as possible.
She thought about telling him the truth. But why would he believe her? He was convinced she was Jasmine. As sheriff, he could keep her from leaving, thinking he could protect her. She wouldn’t endanger his life. Even Cash McCall was no match for Vince and Angel.
“That’s the Tongue River Reservoir,” Cash said as the pickup climbed a long hill.
She looked in the direction he’d pointed and saw the pool of blue against the red rock bluffs. “It’s beautiful.”
“The legend is Native Americans named the river the Tongue because of the way it winds.”
Like a forked tongue, she thought, as the rolling countryside blurred past. The air smelled of summer and water, sage and pine. Wild grasses ran bright green to silver sage. On the rocky bluffs, dark green pine trees stood against the clear blue of the summer sky.
She tried to relax. They would be safe at the ranch, then tonight as soon as Cash was asleep—
