by B. J Daniels
As she looked up into his dreamy eyes, she blamed fear and wine for her lowered inhibitions. But whatever she did now, she would have to live with it tomorrow in the light of day. Not to mention the fact that she was Daniel’s girlfriend. She’d proven that she didn’t do guilt well.
“I kept us both out of jail.” His gaze bore into her. She’d seen something in those eyes all those years ago. She hadn’t imagined it anymore than she did now. She swore she could feel the quickening thump of his heart under her hand.
“I didn’t really want anything from you.” Not then. And not now either. She wished she hadn’t called the judge. She especially wished he hadn’t sent Shep because the man had a way of weakening both her knees and her resolve.
“I know,” he said as he lifted her hand from his chest.
Did he? Had he known even back then how fragile she was? She’d felt so strong after the boot camp and she’d grown stronger with the years, with college, with her career.
Until she saw Lindy standing across the street. “I was just—”
“Acting out,” he said, and kissed her palm and gave it back to her. “I wish I’d known about what had happened to you, Charlie. Now I understand a whole lot more than I did then. The acting out, it was what we all did when we were afraid. Like now.”
His words brought tears to her eyes. Why did the man have to be so damned in tune to her feelings?
She looked down at her palm where he’d kissed it and turned away from him. “It’s late. You should get some sleep. I have to work tomorrow.” A thought struck her. She turned to face him again. “Where will you—”
“I’ll crash on your couch.” He cocked his head. “If that’s okay with you.”
Her mouth was dry and bitter from not just her story but the wine. She felt vulnerable and scared and she hated it.
She tried not to think about any of it, especially Shep, as she got him bedding before going into her bedroom and closing the door behind her. There wasn’t a lock. Not that she would need it. She knew Shep. He was too much of a gentleman. The only way he’d come to her was if he was invited.
Worse, he knew her. He now knew everything about her—even the horrible secret she’d kept all these years.
She stumbled to the bed and lay down without undressing. It wasn’t like she was going to be able to sleep.
* * *
SHEP LAY ON the couch, staring up at the ceiling as he went over everything Charlie had told him. His heart ached for her and what she’d been through. He wished there was more he could do. He hated how aware he was of the young woman only yards away in the next room. For a moment in the kitchen, he’d seen the old Charlie, the one he’d known at boot camp. The one he’d fallen helplessly in love with as a teenager.
Shoving that thought away, he tried to concentrate on her story. Pulling out his phone, he typed in Lindy Parker murder.
The murder had made the front page of the Bozeman Daily Chronicle. Charlie and her family had been living in the old Drummond house on the north edge of town not far from the tracks only a few months, according to the article.
It wasn’t the first tragedy at that house apparently. Jonathan Drummond had the Victorian house built in the late 1800s for his wife to be, Mary Margaret White. The two moved in after their marriage in 1901.
Tragedy struck four years later when their oldest daughter died after falling down the stairs. A few years after that they lost their two-year-old son to an accident in the yard involving a wild dog. Six months later, Mary Margaret was found hanging from the rafters in the basement.
According to the article, Jonathan lived the rest of his life in the house alone as a recluse. After his death, the house went to a nephew who sold it. Occupancy changed over the years, with no one staying long. It had become a rental back in the 1960s.
Shep stared at the headshot of the victim, the young blonde he’d seen in the photograph in Charlie’s album. He knew he was biased and passing judgment after hearing the whole story from Charlie, but she looked spoiled, entitled, a little too sure of herself and certainly not as pretty as Charlie.
He hated that Lindy had been unhappy and had taken it out on her. He felt angry and a little sick to his stomach. Charlie had been so alone in a situation where she was being bullied until one day she refused to take it anymore.
For fifteen years, she’d lived with the consequences of her actions the night Lindy had died. He read through the newspaper article and the ones following. The killer had never been caught. The police speculated that she might have been murdered by a vagrant passing through town because of the closeness of the railroad tracks to the house and the abandoned buildings.
What nagged at him was why now? Why fifteen years later was Charlie seeing a woman she believed to be Lindy? Maybe the killer got picked up on some other criminal charge and had been locked away for fifteen years. But why come after Charlie? Did the killer think she knew more than she did?
Which brought up the question of where the killer would have found someone who resembled Lindy Parker so closely to terrify Charlie all over again. What was the purpose? To push her mentally over the edge? Charlie had always been a little bit eccentric—but in a good way, he thought, smiling.
He couldn’t help but question what she’d seen. Not Lindy Parker, that much was certain. But someone who looked so much like her that Charlie was running scared.
* * *
CHARLIE WOKE WITH a start to see daylight peeking through her curtains. She sat up, surprised that she’d fallen asleep in her clothes. Picking up her phone, she saw that it was still early. For a moment, she lay back on the bed and closed her eyes again. Just before she awakened, she’d had this tantalizing dream...
She tried to get the dream back, wanting to finish it. Remnants of it teased her memory. A man. The two of them lying naked on a blanket beside a small creek. She could still feel the warm breeze on her bare skin. The man was kissing her, caressing her. She felt a sharp stab of desire at the memory. She wanted this man desperately, wanted equally as desperately to finish this dream. So why had she awakened the way she had from the dream?
The reason came to her with a start. Her eyes flew open. The man wasn’t Daniel. Nor was it a stranger. It was Shep.
She flung her legs over the side of the bed and rose, trying to shake off the dream and the ache still burning at her center. In the bathroom, she shed her clothing and stepped into the shower. But the dream had followed her. She could still feel an aching need. Still feel Shep’s hands on her body. Still feel his mouth on hers, his tongue moving over her bare skin.
Holding her head under the spray, she tried to wash the emotions away until the water grew cold.
After getting dressed for work, she fiddled with her hair until she couldn’t put it off any longer. She would have to face Shep sooner or later. It wasn’t like he’d really been in her dream last night. Still she felt as if she’d cheated on Daniel. Or worse, had wanted to.
Shep was right about one thing. She hadn’t dealt with her past. She hadn’t dealt with Lindy. But she also hadn’t dealt with Shep himself. When boot camp was over, she’d been the one to hightail it. He’d tried to contact her once, but she hadn’t returned his call. She wanted no part of that slice of her life. They’d been too young. Not that she hadn’t thought about him more times than she wanted to remember.
Groaning at the path her thoughts had taken her, she pushed open her bedroom door and put on a brave face. It was bad enough that she’d confessed her worst secret to Shep last night, that she’d let him hold her in his arms, that she might have even flirted with him, but that darn dream. Her cheeks felt flushed still.
When she stepped out of her bedroom though, she saw that the couch was empty. Shep and his backpack were gone. She looked in the kitchen, not quite believing it. Had he bailed on her after hearing her story?
Just then, her apartment door
opened and Shep came through carrying two large, bulging grocery bags and his backpack looked full as well. He leaned down and picked up the morning newspaper before entering the apartment and closing the door behind him.
“Good morning,” he said, appearing to do a double take of her before heading into the kitchen.
She looked down to see what she was wearing, confused at his reaction. Then she remembered she’d had a sweater in this same style and almost same color when he knew her before.
In the kitchen, he put down the bags and backpack, tossing the newspaper onto the table. “I bought a few things since you didn’t seem to have any food on hand.”
She bristled, wanting to tell him she’d been fine before he’d showed up. But then that wasn’t entirely true, was it? “Thank you. That was thoughtful of you, but Shep—”
“Don’t worry. I’m only here temporarily. You made it clear years ago how you felt about me.”
Had she? “I need to get to work.” But first she had to read her horoscope. She moved into the kitchen and pretended to glance at the front page of the paper before flipping to the horoscope section and moving to the window.
Just as she feared, Shep joined her at the window to look out.
“She’s not out there,” he said and went back to putting away the groceries. But she could still feel his breath on her neck. “I checked first thing this morning and again on my way back.”
Charlie felt a wave of relief at that news. After last night’s confession, the last person she wanted to see was the Lindy doppelgänger again. If that’s what she was. Charlie looked over her shoulder. Shep had his back to her. She quickly scanned for her sign.
“You don’t have to hide it from me,” he said behind her. “I’m not surprised you still read your horoscope every morning. I remember at boot camp when you used to steal the warden’s newspaper and rip out the horoscopes.” He turned to grin at her.
“You think it’s silly. Go ahead and make fun of me.”
He shook his head. “I think it’s you. There is nothing silly about you. So what does it say?”
She started to tell him that it wasn’t anything, but he took the paper from her and read the Capricorn blurb out loud. For a moment, she’d been too surprised that he remembered when her birthday was that she wasn’t listening.
“...time to make bold choices that will positively impact your future. Trust,” he read and looked up at her, “in your own judgment. It’s time to collect on all that you sowed. Any idea what that means?”
“I have a big design project I’ve been working on,” she said without looking at him. “I’m sure that’s it.”
“Hmm,” he said. “My horoscope is interesting this morning, too.” He glanced up at her. “But then as I recall, we’ve always been compatible.”
She wasn’t about to touch that, especially after the dream. “I need to get to work,” she said again.
“What, no breakfast?” he asked and handed her a banana.
“Thank you.” At the door, she asked, “Will I see you later?”
“If you’re asking if I am going to abandon you, I’m not. The judge asked me to come here to look into your problem and that’s what I intend to do. Which means I will be staying with you until I find the answer.” He rushed on before she could speak. “Also I’ll be dogging you until I figure out what’s going on.”
Dogging her? “Why the judge thinks a math teacher can save me, I have no idea,” she muttered.
He chuckled. “Don’t worry. You won’t know I’m even around.”
“Not likely,” she grumbled as she left.
On the walk to the office, she didn’t see Lindy. Relieved, she pushed open the door into the design office, anxious to get to work so she could get her mind off everything. Especially Shep.
“Charlie?”
She groaned inwardly. She’d almost gotten past Amanda’s office. She had no choice but to turn back.
Amanda stood in the hallway outside her office smiling. “Are you free for lunch today?”
Excuses bubbled up, all of them so ill formed that they never reached her lips. “Lunch?”
“You are familiar with the concept, aren’t you?” Amanda laughed. “Let’s go early, say 11:30? Somewhere fun. My treat.”
Fun? Nothing about lunch with Amanda could be fun, she told herself as she hurried to her desk. She hoped dead mouse wasn’t on the menu.
“Did The Enforcer just invite you to lunch?” Tara whispered, eyes wide with wonder. “What horrible thing have you done now?” she joked.
“You don’t want to know.”
* * *
JUDGE WT LANDUSKY hadn’t been to Bozeman since he’d graduated from Montana State University many years ago. He’d settled in the Whitefish area after he retired, spending his winters in Florida fishing and golfing. Often he felt like a cliché, his life had become so predictable. He’d become so predictable.
As he drove into Bozeman, he wasn’t surprised at how much it had changed. Over the years, he’d been aware that it was often one of the fastest growing cities in the state—rivaling the Whitefish area.
Driving down Main Street, he was flooded with memories from the time he’d spent here in his youth. Blanketed in the latest snow and decorated for the holidays, downtown looked as it always had. The light on the Baxter Hotel was blinking, signaling that there was fresh snow at Bridger Bowl. He thought of all the days when he should have been in class during the winter when he’d been up on that hill enjoying the powder.
To be young again, he thought, catching a glimpse of his graying hair in the rearview mirror. Where had the years gone? He sighed, knowing that his melancholy was due to hearing from an old love recently. She’d proven to him that anyone could have a broken heart and at any age. Unfortunately, it had put him into a what-if-I’d-done-things-differently mood, one he was tiring of quickly.
Not one to spend time looking back, he parked in front of one of the stately brick buildings along Main Street and climbed out. He knew that Charlie Farmington lived just a few blocks from here, but he assured himself that Shep would get to the bottom of her problem. If needed, WT would assist, but he wasn’t in town because of Charlie. She was in good hands. He on the other hand was in uncharted waters.
The envelope with its cryptic note was in the breast pocket of his coat as he crossed the icy sidewalk and entered the building. A short elevator ride to the fifth floor and he was standing at the closed door to Judge Margaret Kane’s office. He’d come this far and yet he hesitated.
“You going to stand there all day?” A woman’s voice came from behind him, making him start. He turned to see a slim, petite woman with a head of shoulder-length, wiry red hair streaked with gray. Her big blue eyes had tiny laugh wrinkles around them.
“Hello, Meg.”
She broke into a radiant smile that made him feel as if the sun had just come out. “It’s been a long time.”
“Too long.” He’d had his doubts about coming here, but was now glad that he had.
“Come in, Billy,” she said, stepping past him to open the door.
He followed her in. The office was like the woman, startling in its contrasts. The furnishings were eclectic; a blend of old and new, polished wood, glass and chrome dotted with soft, comfortable chairs and a couch in bold colors. Like the woman, it felt comfortable.
She waved him into one of the overstuffed chairs and busied herself removing her coat and boots. He’d forgotten how small she was because her personality was so large.
“I wasn’t sure you would come,” she said, shooting a look at him. “I’m glad you did.”
“Me, too.” He reached into his pocket and brought out the envelope. “Your note was...intriguing.”
She smiled as she put on a pair of black high heels and smoothed down her suit skirt. Like him, she’d retired but still did pro bon
o work and mentored youth in a program much like the one he started years ago.
“Coffee? You still take yours black?”
He nodded and she pressed a button on her desk phone. “Two coffees, both black. Thanks.” She disconnected and instead of taking her chair behind her desk, sat down in the opposite overstuffed chair and folded her legs at the ankles. She’d always had great legs. That, too, he noticed hadn’t changed.
“I was sorry to hear about Hal,” he said, remembering his manners. He’d met Meg at law school in Missoula. She’d already been married to Hal by then. Her husband had been older than her, a professor she’d met as an undergraduate.
“I got your card. Thank you. It’s been over a year now.” She settled that blue gaze on him. “You never married.”
He shook his head, rather than say that the right woman had never come along. He suspected she had, but she’d already been married.
“It’s not too late,” she said with a grin as she rose to answer a knock at the door. He laughed. She came back with two cups of coffee, handing him one and settling back into her chair.
“Is that what this is about?” he asked, holding up the envelope. Inside was the note written in her beautiful sweeping script: Remember the promise I made you? That’s all it had said. She’d signed it, Meg.
She laughed softly, for the first time seeming a little unsure of herself. It looked good on her, added color to her cheeks. Nothing dimmed the spark in those blue eyes though. Meg had always been a firecracker, first as a law student, then a lawyer and later as a judge. Anyone who crossed her path never walked away without knowing they’d been in the presence of one exceptional human being.
“I do remember your promise,” he said, remembering what a cocky young man he’d been.
