by Jen Talty
Kick fit the bill, and then some.
She slipped into the bathroom, bringing her suitcase with her. Besides wanting to dry her hair before it became a tangled mess, she wanted to change her clothes. Not to mention, she wanted a few moments to collect herself after the earthshattering experience she’d had with Kick.
It wasn’t just the sex. It was how he’d been with her from the second he walked into the bathroom and lifted her from the freezing cold water. He never judged her or made her feel uncomfortable.
Nor had she been embarrassed. He made her feel as though how she’d chosen to handle everything had been normal.
She bent over, flipping her long hair before turning on the blow dryer. The warm air only reminded her of how desperate she’d been to be with Kirk. That wasn’t like her at all. Sure, she went after what she wanted, but she’d never needed a man so badly before. And she passed on foreplay. Since when did she do that?
Standing, she flipped her hair back, brushing it from her face. Her reflection in the mirror stared back with heavy eyes. She braced herself on the sink. The events of the last couple of days smacked her gut with the force of a fastball. She sucked in a breath. There were no tears left, thank God. Although, she was sure they would render their ugly drops once again in the near future. But for now, she needed to be strong.
Male voices echoed in the other room.
She rummaged through her suitcase until she found her brother’s smartphone. She’d turned it off right after Kick had rescued her on the highway, to save the battery since his was a different brand than hers so she had no way of charging it. She held down on the switch, waiting for the screen to fire up. She hoped someone tried to reach him, and the message would flash on the home page. She’d planned on giving Monty the phone, and she knew she should hand it over to Bear and his IT chick, but it felt like the only thing she had of her brother’s, and she wasn’t about to let it go just yet.
No messages flashed across the screen, so she shut it down and stuffed it back in her suitcase. She’d talk with Kick about it later.
Knock. Knock.
“Cassandra. Are you okay in there?” Her father’s voice bellowed through the wood.
“I’ll be out in a second, Dad.” She smoothed down the front of her black T-shirt and prepared herself for a death grip hug.
The second she stepped into the family room, her father circled his strong arms around her body and squeezed so hard she could barely take in a decent breath. “Hi, Daddy.” She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder.
“We’ve been so worried about you.” He kissed her temple and ran his hand down the length of her hair like he used to do when she was a little girl. “You should have called me.” He cupped her cheeks and took a step back.
She swallowed. Her father had dark bags dragging under his eyes. His normally relaxed face had tension lines, aging him at least ten years. “I’m sorry. But I needed to see Monty.” Her voice cracked. Visions of Monty lying on the floor, eyes wide, his spirit already gone, bombarded her brain. She blinked them away.
“You could have seen him and called me. I would have had someone from the Brotherhood Protectors meet you at the airport.”
“Daddy, you don’t understand.” She wrapped her arms around her middle, shaking her head. “There is no way Karl killed himself.” She choked on the words. She still half expected Karl to show up at any minute and tell them it was all a big mistake. That he’d faked his own death for some reason.
Talk about wishful thinking.
“What I understand is that you had not one thought or consideration for your actions or how they would affect your mother.” What little light her father had in his dark eyes faded to black. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. She hated seeing her father this way, knowing she was partly to blame.
“I know you are, but you can’t go off on your own. It’s too dangerous when we don’t know what is really going on and why.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You told me to let it go. That you believed Karl murdered—”
“I never said that.” Her father planted his hands on his hips. “I told you to let the police handle it because I know you and didn’t want you going off half-cocked.”
“Which is what she did anyway,” Bear said as he placed a mug on the coffee table. A woman with a funky Mohawk haircut leaned against the counter separating the kitchen from the family room while she munched on some toast. Kick hovered over the stove with a pan full of scrambled eggs.
“I did not. All I did was contact Monty.”
“And he’s dead,” her father said.
“That’s not her fault, sir.” Kick glanced over his shoulder, giving her a weak smile. “He had already been murdered by the time we got there.”
“Not making me feel better, son,” her father said, keeping his stare locked with hers. “You neglected to tell me your apartment was broken into, or that Karl had sent you some cryptic note. Had I known any of these things, I would have brought in Bear and his buddies sooner.”
“My building has been robbed before and—”
Her father hushed her with the wave of his hand. “I’m not going to argue with you, especially now that the medical examiner has said he finds the murder/suicide to be suspicious.”
“What?!” she exclaimed. “Now who is leaving out information.”
“Sit down and eat some breakfast.” Bear stepped between her and her father, coaxing them both toward the table. “Cassandra, this is one of our IT specialists, Trisha. She’s going to hack into Monty’s computer.”
Cassandra nodded. “I want to know more about the medical examiner’s report.”
“No report yet. Just a courtesy call that he’s still looking into the cause of death. He did make a statement to the press. I take that as they found something that doesn’t add up to murder/suicide.” Trisha grunted as she set up the laptop on the counter.
Everyone else gathered around the kitchen table as Kick dumped some runny eggs and toast on each plate. While he poured her a cup of coffee, their eyes met for a brief moment. The corners of his mouth turned upward, and she couldn’t help but smile back.
“I’m so glad it was you who found my daughter on the side of the road,” her father said. “Thank you for sticking with her when you didn’t have to.”
“We were actually on the same plane and sat next to each other.” Kick turned a chair, straddling it. He blew on his coffee, sending a hot, smoky swirl in her direction.
“You saved her life, and for that I will forever be grateful.”
“I was just doing what every good citizen would do.” Kick’s humility was going to make her fall head over heels for the man.
“I counted ten good citizens who drove right past me on that highway.” She bit back a smile.
“Before or after I stopped.” Kick had the nerve to wink.
“You two seem chummy,” her father said.
Her cheeks heated. She cleared her throat. “Has anyone heard from the cops? Any leads on Monty’s death?”
Changing the subject wasn’t going to stop her father from pondering, but it would shut him up for the moment.
Bear tossed a folder on the table. “The police found two abandoned motorcycles in a field not far away where they also found tire tracks that they have molded and are now tracking down their make and which cars they are used for. It shouldn’t be too hard to narrow that down because they were big-ass tires.”
“What about the motorcycles?” Kick asked.
“Stolen from a local dealer just an hour before Monty’s murder,” Bear said, leaning back in his chair. “I also took it upon myself to check all aircraft, private and otherwise, that landed near here last night, and it seems that three hours before you landed in Montana, a private jet that came from West Palm Beach, Florida, touched down on a landing strip at a small airport about forty miles from Monty’s place.” Being direct was the one thing that Cassan
dra always admired in Bear. He kept things simple and honest.
Sometimes, too honest.
“You think whoever killed Monty followed me from Florida?” she asked, chomping down on her nail. It was a stupid question because she knew the answer. “Why? What is it they want from me and why kill him?”
“First,” Kick started, “I bet Monty was collateral damage. They either figured out who he was from the letter Karl sent, or they knew you’d called him. Not to mention, our flight was delayed, so they could have believed you were already there, or had just recently left.”
“That still doesn’t answer why anyone would go after my little girl,” her father said.
“She’s a parole officer. I’m sure she has an enemy or two,” Kick said. “But no one at this table believes in coincidences, so we treat everything as related. And that brings me back to gambling and drugs.”
Her father clenched his fists. “My son was clean.”
“Arny, he didn’t mean it that way,” Bear said, giving her father a reassuring nod. “But Kick does bring up a very valid point with Asia and her father.”
Kick took a large gulp of his coffee. “The first playoff game of this last series before the Stanley Cup, Karl was pulled from the game in the second period after he let in two weak goals.”
“But he went back in, and they won that game,” her father said behind a clenched jaw.
“But he lost the second one, and again by letting in a really weak goal in the final seconds of the game,” Kick said.
“And you have to admit, Karl had been all over the place in the games to follow,” Bear added with a calming tone. “All the sportscasters commented that they thought Karl was way off his game.”
“My son wouldn’t toss a game,” her father said, slamming his fist on the table. “His wife was pregnant. She had been having some difficulty with morning sickness. His mind was on his family.”
“That’s exactly where I’m going with this,” Kick said. “Asia’s father owns a casino, and before she cleaned up her act, her father used her skill set to buy his casino.” Kick hadn’t said anything that hadn’t already been discussed.
“What are you suggesting?” her father asked with a narrowed glare.
“It makes sense that Maxwell would want to place money on the outcome of the games and with the star goalie as a son-in-law, I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to play that card.”
“That does make the most sense,” Bear interjected. “But what about Cassandra. Why break into her place? Why go after Monty?”
“The only answer I can come up with is that Maxwell thinks Cassandra has something that belongs to him,” Kick said.
Cassandra pushed her plate aside. The acid in her stomach sloshed about, making the eggs feel like cement in her gut. “I’ve never met Asia’s father. Hell, I don’t think Karl had ever met him. Asia didn’t talk about him, and when anyone brought it up, she would get really upset. While Karl and I were close, lately we’d been arguing because I thought he was acting weird. And so was Asia.”
“But we all chalked it up to the new baby and the pressure of the Stanley Cup,” her father said. “And it still doesn’t explain Monty or the break-in. Neither Asia nor my son could place a bet on the game without someone catching wind of that, so it’s not like they would have money that Maxwell thought belonged to them.”
“We’re spinning our wheels here with conjecture,” Bear said.
“That letter Karl sent me has to mean something. I think I should go back to the farm and check out the playhouse and pirate ship.” She couldn’t stand to sit still one second longer. She needed to move and be active in finding out how everything was connected.
And why.
“We’ll send someone over there to do that,” Bear said.
“No.” Kick stood. The chair screeched against the tile floor. “Cassandra and I should go. She knows her way around better than anyone else. She’s probably the only one that can decipher that letter, since it’s so personal.” His dark, smoldering gaze caught hers, sending her stomach on a roll.
She brushed her hair from her face and glanced around.
Her father’s gaze darted between her and Kick. “I don’t want my daughter in the line of fire.” Her father had always been insanely overprotective. He wanted his daughter perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but in the same turn, he wanted her to have a man to take care of her, so she didn’t have to.
“Daddy, I’m a big girl who carries a gun. And let’s not forget a blackbelt.”
“Well, that explains a few things,” Kick said under his breath.
“Explain what?” her father asked as the corner of his mouth turned upward into an all-knowing grin. “When was her high kick necessary?”
If she wasn’t mistaken, Kick actually blushed. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to her, sir.”
“I would hope so. I’m paying you enough.” Her father folded his arms over his chest and did his best not to grin from ear to ear. “And that means keeping your ha—”
“Dad. Stop. Kick isn’t anyone I’m ever going to date, so drop it.”
“Shut down before I’m even out of the gate,” Kick said with an amused smile.
“I like this guy.” Her father slapped Kick on the shoulder. “So, what do we do now?”
“Trisha and I will stay here while she cracks the computer and to see if anyone suspicious shows up,” Bear said. “Kick, you take Arny and Cassandra back to their ranch and check things out. Let’s touch base in a couple of hours.”
“Let’s hit the road.” Kick took her by the arm and led her toward the bedroom.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Getting our stuff,” he said so softly she barely heard him. He bent down and lifted her suitcase. “Did you leave anything in the bedroom?” This time his voice bounced off the walls for everyone to hear.
And judge.
“Nope.” She raised up on tiptoe and pressed her lips against Kick’s ear. “My father carries a shotgun wherever he goes, just saying.”
“I’m a good catch. I don’t think I have anything to worry about.” He had the audacity to wink.
“You should be very worried about my high kick.”
“I look forward to seeing it live and in person.”
She groaned, taking a step back. Her father held the front door open with a big grin. “Are the lovebirds ready?”
Kick’s face drained white. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I..um, I… oh hell. Let’s get out of here.”
One of these days she’d learn never to taunt her father. It only came back to bite her in the ass.
Chapter 6
“We’ve got company.” Kick kept his foot on the brake as he reached for his phone. He didn’t want to draw more attention to himself, but he needed to warn Bear and make a plan that would keep Arny and Cassandra out of harm’s way. “And not of the friendly kind.”
“Where?” Arny asked, keeping his gaze front and center. His elbow rested on the open window. He appeared as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
Kick had heard many stories about the great Arny Sweet. One of the richest men in all of Montana. Meeting him up close and personal, Kick decided Arny was also the most laid-back billionaire he’d ever come across.
“Don’t look. But there are two guys pretending to study fishing poles and lures a couple of houses down.”
“How do you know they are here for us?” Cassandra had sprawled out in the back seat of his truck, resting his cowboy hat over her face. For a second, he worried that she’d pop her head up, alerting the men that their cover had been blown. But other than recrossing her ankles, she didn’t budge.
Smart girl.
“They are dressed too nice for two guys getting ready to go fishing. I mean, who wears a golf shirt out on a boat, especially a white one.” Kick raised his cell to his ear. “Hey, Bear. Can you see the A-frame house? The side yard on the east?”
“Yeah, why? Oh
, wait. I see them. Let me get a closer look with the binoculars. Don’t leave yet.”
“Just sitting here with the engine running, fiddling with my phone, searching on maps because I have no sense of direction at all.”
“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” Bear asked with a chuckle. “Just remember, payback is a bitch, and I think I might have something funny to pick on you about now.”
“Negative. You got nothing.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, especially when you leave clothing tossed about the place. It might lead people to jump to conclusions.”
“Jump all you want.” Kick’s heart lurched to his throat. He coughed, knowing exactly what he left behind.
“And yours wasn’t the only garment left behind.”
No way. He glanced in the rearview mirror just as Cassandra peeked out from under his Stetson, her eyes wide.
Shit. He could only imagine what she left behind. But it didn’t prove anything.
“Stop screwing around and tell me what you see,” Kick said.
Bear laughed. “Are you sure you want me to describe it?”
“Jesus, would you just—”
“There is a Glock sitting on the table next to the tackle box, and there is a man standing in the window, glaring at the intruders. I don’t think he’s too happy, but he probably wasn’t given much choice. Makes me wonder if there isn’t a third or fourth man inside the house. I’m sending Trisha over to investigate.”
Kick scanned the area, searching for cars that didn’t belong, or anything else suspicious, but found nothing. “I’m going to ease out of the driveway before they come after us.”
“Good idea,” Bear said. “Just let me know if you pick up a tail. I’ve already called the office. Shamus and Clayton are en route. Jaden’s checking out Monty’s place again.”
“Thought Jaden was heading home?” Kick asked. Even though Jaden worked for the Brotherhood Protectors, he lived in Nashville with his wife and kid.
“His flight isn’t until tomorrow, and God only knows why he offered to help out your sorry ass,” Bear said.
