by Laura Scott
But there wasn’t.
After he returned to his room, he used his phone to call his brother-in-law, Mike Callahan. “Hey, how are Shayla and the kids?”
“Great,” Mike replied. “Brodie is being an awesome big brother to his little sister, Breena.”
The image of his sister, Mike and their two kids made him smile. Then his smile faded as he realized he couldn’t bring them into this.
He never should have called him.
“Great, glad to hear it.” He thought fast. “Listen, I’ll be here in Wyoming for a few more days. I’ll let our sarge know, but he may need help covering my shifts.”
“Yeah, sure. Breena is sleeping like a champ these days, so shouldn’t be a problem.” Mike paused. “Something wrong?”
“No,” he hastened to reassure him. “The Grand Tetons are beautiful. I’m planning to do some hiking while I’m here and wouldn’t mind a few days to wind down.”
“Alone? Or did you meet up with some pretty cowgirl?” Mike teased. Since all six Callahans were married with kids, they had begun to make it their mission to see him settled as well.
“No cowgirl,” he said, despite how the image of Chelsey walking down the aisle in her wedding dress flashed in his mind. “Just want a few extra days, is all. Thanks Mike, take care of your family.”
“Will do. Oh, and by the way, you should be prepared to hear big news from your dad and my mom.”
Duncan winced. His dad, Ian O’Hare, was a widower just like Mike’s mom, Maggie Callahan. Their respective parents had been spending time together as friends over the past couple of years. Maybe more than friends. As much as he wanted them to be happy, Duncan didn’t really want to think too closely about them dating.
Some things were better left unimagined.
“Dunc? Are you there?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Let me guess, they’re getting married.”
“I’m getting that vibe, yeah. Just thought you might want to be prepared.”
“Thanks for the heads-up, Mike. Listen, I have to call Sarge. See you in a few days.” He disconnected from the line before his brother-in-law could say anything more.
His friends, not just the Callahans but Hawk Jacobson and Ryker Tillman were all family men now. They had wives and children of their own. He couldn’t bring himself to drag any of them into this.
But he wasn’t about to leave Chelsey high and dry, either. He was determined to stay and help protect her.
No matter what.
* * *
Hiding in her room was childish, but she needed a few minutes to come to grips with the idea that Brett had witnessed a murder and now those responsible were coming after her.
To kill her.
Retreating to the bathroom, she gathered the few personal items she’d purchased yesterday and placed them in a paper bag provided by the motel for laundry. Just like her hotel did.
She collapsed on the edge of the bed, feeling numb at the idea of never seeing her family’s hotel again. It was only a building, but also a place full of memories.
And all she had left of her parents.
She wondered if Slade and Duncan might be able to get in to get some photographs for her. Tears pricked her eyes again and she swiped at them with annoyance. She wasn’t normally a crier, but someone who liked to get things done.
Time to get a grip. There were worse things in the world than not having material items. Or the place your parents lived.
Her life was more important than any of that. She closed her eyes and lifted her heart to God.
Help me, Lord, to understand and accept this new path You’ve provided for me, amen.
She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, but a knock at her door had her rising to her feet. Using the peephole, she saw Slade standing there. “Hi. The cabin must be ready, huh?”
He nodded. “Yes, it’s clean and stocked with food. Stay here, I’ll get Duncan.”
She stepped back and grabbed her bag. When the men returned, they once again sandwiched her between them as they made their way outside and along the parking lot, keeping parallel to the building.
It felt foolish, and she wondered what the people who lived in Moose, Wyoming, thought about them as they headed toward the rear portion of the motel. In the distance, she could see a cabin, tucked off to the side, isolated from other structures.
Slade held the key in his hand, and Duncan stood guard as the marshal unlocked the door and pushed it open. She crossed the threshold, glancing around curiously. It was nicer than she’d expected, rustic but with a great view of the mountains from the back porch.
“Home, sweet home,” she murmured, dropping her bag of personal items on the glossy oak kitchen table.
“For a couple of days,” Slade agreed. He glanced at his watch. “I’m heading back to the motel office to borrow their computer again. Duncan, I’m sure you won’t mind staying here to watch over Chelsey.”
“I don’t mind at all, but I’d like to dig into the Coyote Creek Construction company. Could your marshal friend bring a spare computer? Two brains working on this are better than one.”
Slade nodded. “I need to check in with Colt anyway, so I’ll see if that’s possible.”
“What can I do to help?” Chelsey wasn’t the type to sit around doing nothing. Managing the hotel had kept her busy, which is what she preferred.
“Honestly, the best thing you can do is try to remember anything Brett may have mentioned about this job at the construction company, the people he worked with, anything at all.” Slade smiled. “It’s often the littlest things that can break open a case.”
“Okay.” Slade left and Duncan poked his head into the fridge and the cupboards, scoping out the lunch possibilities even though they’d just finished breakfast.
Taking a seat at the table, she sighed. She didn’t hold out much hope of remembering anything helpful. Those past few weeks before the wedding, she’d been dealing with last-minute preparations while studiously ignoring the lingering doubts about her upcoming marriage. Not to mention getting everything in the hotel running smoothly while she was gone on her honeymoon.
She abruptly straightened. Wait a minute, their honeymoon. Brett had done the planning for their trip—all she’d asked for was to be able to swim in the ocean, something she’d never done, and to find a place that wasn’t too hot. He’d teased her that he had all her preferences on file, and in fact had carried a file folder with the details.
She remembered he had suggested Florida. Had he settled on it? Maybe the northern part of the state? Was that why Slade had mentioned relocating them there?
“Did you remember something?” Duncan’s keen gaze apparently didn’t miss a thing.
“Nothing to help with the case, but I just realized Brett did all the planning for our honeymoon, someplace near the ocean because I’ve never seen it.” She stared at him. “Do you think he was waiting until the honeymoon to tell me about being in witness protection? That the place near the ocean was going to be our new home?”
“Maybe.” Duncan sat across from her. “Did he say anything else about the trip? Did you have airline tickets or anything?”
“No, although he did have a folder with details that he carried around. What was strange is that he wanted to drive to Florida, so we could see the scenery.” She thought back to the snippets of conversation. “He seemed surprised when I mentioned not liking Florida. Do you think he planned to go somewhere else? Like maybe without the help of the US Marshals Service?”
“I hate to say this, but nothing at this point would surprise me. Brett apparently wanted to have a new life with you, no matter what he’d witnessed. Maybe he thought that simply moving away would be enough.” Duncan’s gaze hardened and she realized he was seriously angry with their friend.
“It’s so hard to believe that he wo
uld think I would just give up the hotel my family owned to live with him in another state. Doing what? I mean, what was he thinking?” She dropped her gaze to the glossy table. “I don’t know what I’m going to do now, when I’m forced to take on a new identity.”
He reached out and took her hand. “I know nothing about this is easy, Chelsey, but you’re smart and talented. You can do whatever you’d like.”
She shook her head. “Not true. I wanted to run the hotel my parents left to me, but that’s not possible.”
“Try thinking of what you might have done if the hotel had gone under for some reason,” he suggested.
“I guess you have a point,” she admitted. What would she like to do? She couldn’t cook so running a restaurant was out.
But at one time she’d considered becoming a teacher. She had a fine arts degree. Could she put that to use in some way?
Maybe.
And what about the so-called proof Brett said he’d get? Duncan’s phone rang. He pulled away and stood. “I have to take this, it’s my boss.”
She listened as Duncan told his boss he needed more time off work. When she realized she was shamelessly eavesdropping, she picked up her bag of personal items and did a quick search of the cabin.
The two bedrooms were on the right side of the house, with a small bathroom between them. She chose the smaller of the two, then set her items in the bathroom. She readjusted the bobby pins in her hair, then moved on.
Catching a glimpse of the Teton mountains out the back window, she moved that way, drawn to the majestic view. That Brett would just relocate her from the mountains because she’d mentioned wanting to swim in the ocean was unfathomable.
A wave of shame hit hard. Living near mountains or the ocean shouldn’t be more important than their love for each other. Which was the crux of the matter.
She hadn’t loved Brett enough to move anywhere in the world for him.
Which only reminded her of the intensity of Duncan’s kiss. Of how much she enjoyed being cradled in his embrace. So different than the sweet fondness she’d felt for Brett.
Kissing Duncan had sparked the old attraction she once had for him. A youthful crush, something she’d grown out of.
Or so she’d thought.
But hadn’t she leaned on Brett after losing her mother? Mistaking his kindness and support for something more?
She couldn’t make that same mistake with Duncan. He was very attractive, and had saved her life more than once.
It wouldn’t be fair to confuse feelings of gratitude toward him for love.
Anxious for some fresh air, she opened the back door and stepped outside, breathing deep. Off in the distance, she could see a bald eagle flying overhead, enjoying the wind off the mountains.
It pained her to give all of this up.
“Chelsey?”
Duncan’s voice had her turning to face him. Her feet were still sore, and she missed a step and fell forward at the exact same moment the echo of a gunshot rang out.
“Down! Stay down!” Duncan shouted as he quickly closed the gap between them. In a swift move he grabbed her arm and hauled her back into the cabin, out of harm’s way. When she’d cleared the threshold, he slammed the door shut, then urged her deeper inside the cabin.
“Get under the kitchen table,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “Are you okay? Were you hit?”
“I—I don’t think so.” Her teeth began to chatter. “A-are you sure that was m-meant for me?”
“I’m sure.” Duncan’s tone was grim. He pulled out his phone. “Slade?” He scowled when he realized he was talking to voice mail. “I need you back here, pronto. Someone just took a shot at Chelsey.”
She huddled under the table, realizing at that moment that giving up the mountains would be easy enough as long as it meant staying alive.
TEN
Duncan eased the gun he’d taken off the assailant from his ankle holster and held it ready, sweeping his gaze over the interior of the cabin.
The shot at Chelsey had come from the north, where there was nothing but mountains behind the cabin. The front or south side of the cabin faced the street. It was also the direction they’d come in, less than an hour ago.
How had the sniper known about their relocation?
From the park rangers? Honestly it didn’t seem likely. Maybe there was a team of men watching from all sides. The more he thought about that possibility, the more he thought it correct. One shooter couldn’t be following them this well. And if they were, why not take a shot while they were outside the motel? Maybe there wasn’t a good enough angle from where the sniper was waiting.
Which brought him back to the idea there had to be at least two men involved. And considering the possibility of this being linked to organized crime? Maybe more.
He didn’t like it. He lifted his phone to call Slade for the second time, but the marshal’s number was already flashing on his screen.
“What happened?” Slade demanded.
“Chelsey stepped out the back door and someone took a shot at her.” Duncan kept his voice low, just in case someone was outside close enough to overhear. “Thankfully, they missed, but it’s clear they have eyes on the cabin. You need to be careful.”
“On my way.” Slade disconnected from the call.
Duncan hoped Slade’s position as a US marshal would keep him from becoming a target. He glanced over at Chelsey. “You’re sure you’re not hurt?”
She nodded and offered a wan smile. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m clumsy and tripped over my own feet.”
He frowned. “You’re not clumsy, but I’m sure your feet are probably still sore from all that hiking.”
“A little.” She downplayed the injury he felt certain was worse than she was letting on. Despite not having any medic training, he mentally kicked himself for not insisting on checking her feet for injuries. He didn’t want her to end up with a raging infection. The wound on his arm had been cleaned out, too, and so far seemed to be okay.
“Slade’s on his way back.” He stayed crouched beside her, knowing they needed to find a new place for Chelsey soon.
Ten minutes later, Slade rapped on the door and called, “It’s me,” before using his key to enter the cabin. Duncan slowly rose to his feet when Slade ducked inside, closed and locked the door behind him.
“We need a new location,” Duncan said grimly.
Slade sighed. “If I had one, we’d move. There isn’t another option at the moment.”
“We can’t keep her here,” he argued. “What’s to stop them from peppering the place with bullets?”
“The possibility of getting caught.” Slade raked his hand through his hair. “Look, I know staying put isn’t optimal, but Moose isn’t exactly a large metropolis. The motel and a couple of cabins are all they have to offer. Until we get a set of wheels and reinforcements from the US Marshals Service, we’re stuck. And don’t forget, there are plenty of armed park service rangers around.”
“Wait, you said cabins, plural?” Duncan asked. “Can we swap with someone?”
“And put that person, or worse, an entire family, in danger?” Chelsey crawled out from beneath the table and stood beside him. “No. I’m not doing that.”
Okay, she had a point. He turned and glanced around the cabin. “We can stay away from the windows, but I’d feel better if we could cover them with plywood.”
Slade nodded. “That’s a good idea. I’ll check with the park service, see what they might be able to dig up for us. I’m sure they won’t mind helping out.”
It wasn’t much, but he’d take it. He pulled out a kitchen chair for Chelsey. “Please sit down. We’ll do our best to make this place safe.”
“I guess I shouldn’t have gone outside,” she murmured with a sigh. “And it’s better being stuck in here, then out on the side of the mountain
without a place to stay.”
“I’m glad you’re focusing on the bright side.” Duncan took a moment to prioritize which windows needed to be covered. Those in the main cabin, including the large picture window overlooking the mountains, and the ones in Chelsey’s bedroom. He glanced at Slade. “We’ll need to take turns keeping watch if we have to stay the night.”
“Of course.” Slade didn’t argue. He pulled out his phone. “Give me a minute to contact the park rangers about plywood.”
Duncan sat beside Chelsey, thinking back to what she’d said about their honeymoon. “You mentioned Brett had a folder related to your honeymoon. You never saw what was inside?”
She slowly shook her head. “No, he wanted it to be a surprise.” Her expression turned resigned. “Apparently a really big surprise, like hey, just so you know I witnessed a murder and we’re now going into witness protection.”
He felt bad, but dwelling on Brett’s lies wasn’t going to help. “Think for a moment, Chelsey. If he carried that folder around with him, you must have glimpsed something. Like papers with writing on them? Or maybe pictures of the place you were going to be staying? Anything at all that you can remember?”
“Pictures,” she said without hesitation. “I remember they were large and glossy, but I only saw the edges, not the entire photographs.”
A buzz of adrenaline shot through him. “Photographs on heavy-duty paper? Or something he printed off the internet?”
“Yes, glossy like heavy-duty paper. Why does it matter?”
Duncan hesitated, wondering if he should confide in her. She must have noticed because she bristled.
“Don’t lie to me, Duncan. Not the way Brett did. Not about something as serious as this.”
“Okay, I won’t lie to you, Chelsey. Not now, not ever.” He took a deep breath. “I’m having doubts about Brett. He lied to you, and to me, who’s to say he didn’t lie to the US Marshals, too? And the local law enforcement?”
She paled. “What kind of lies? You think he made up the story about witnessing a murder?”
“No—after all, he was murdered for a reason. But what about the part of his story where he claimed to need time to get the evidence? That doesn’t ring true to me.”
