by B. J Daniels
His laugh was edged with bitterness. “I didn’t have a lot going on when I got the call.”
“You still care about her.”
“That’s not a crime. Look, she called me. Check her phone records. I was miles from here.”
“Can you prove that?”
He started to say something but stopped and shook his head. “I told you. I was up in the mountains outside Big Sky.”
“Did anyone see you?” she asked.
“Not that I know of.”
“Then you raced here to save a woman who you hadn’t seen in fifteen years.”
“If you must know, she saved me.” He looked away, then met her gaze. She saw his jaw muscles bunch. “I was about to drive off a cliff.” He must have seen her shock. “I’m apparently suffering with PTSD—at least I have all of the symptoms. It was stupid and I regret even considering what I almost did. But I was only yards from the edge of the cliff, driving too fast in my pickup, when I got the call.” He exhaled gruffly. “Happy?”
For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. “You think she saved your life.”
“That’s what I thought at the time.” He shook his head. “I don’t know if I would have hit the brakes or not if my phone hadn’t rung.” He looked away again.
“I’m sorry.” She realized this explained so much. If he thought she’d saved his life that day... “Do you still feel that she saved your life?”
“I don’t know how I feel. All of this...” He raked a hand through his hair.
“Do you deny you have feelings for Rachel Collinwood?”
He chuckled. “I care what happens to her. But none of that has anything to do with what happened. I told you. I only recently reconnected with Rachel. That’s how she had my number.”
“When was the last time you reconnected with Mr. Collinwood?”
He looked down at his feet. “Years ago, just like I told you.”
“At their wedding?”
He nodded, a muscle in his jaw tightening.
There was something there she couldn’t put her finger on. Whatever had happened at the wedding, though, was the key. “When you and Mrs. Collinwood reconnected recently, did she mention any conflict in her marriage?”
“It wasn’t that kind of reconnection,” he said. “We didn’t share anything more personal than phone numbers.”
“She was the one who contacted you? So you’re on social media.”
“One of my nieces insisted on signing me up. I hardly pay any attention to it.”
“Until you saw a friend request from Rachel. But after you shared your number, you didn’t call her?”
“No. I doubt I would have. She was married and a lot of water had flowed under that bridge.”
Hitch nodded, confirming her suspicions about whatever had happened at the wedding. But did it pertain to the murder? It could be simply because Ford Cardwell had never gotten over the woman and had to distance himself from the two of them. Had Rachel known about his crush on her? Of course, Hitch thought. That was why she’d called him. “But here you are, coming to her defense.”
“I came here to tell the sheriff what I heard during the phone call, that’s all.”
“You also said you came to Big Timber to make sure Rachel was all right.”
When he didn’t answer, she stared him down until he said, “Why are you trying to make something more out of this than it is?”
“Because Humphrey Collinwood is dead and I want to know why.” She studied him openly for a moment.
He sighed, sounding worn out. “I want to know, as well. Maybe I want to know more than even you do. But other than the phone call, that’s my only involvement in all this.”
She wondered if he actually believed that. “Have you ever heard of a case of domestic homicide involving a husband’s shooting where the wife put the gun outside the house because she was afraid he would use it on her?”
“I’m not familiar with any domestic homicide cases,” he said impatiently.
“The wife got off because it appeared she hadn’t planned to kill him. And yet she ran outside, knowing the gun was there.”
Ford shook his head. “You really do think that Rachel took a beating so she could kill her husband. That would mean that she set this all up.”
She heard something in his voice. The idea wasn’t a new one for him. He was wondering the same thing, but afraid to admit it. “Humphrey Collinwood is a very wealthy man, but I think you know that. Did you also know that Rachel signed a prenuptial agreement that she couldn’t benefit from that wealth if they divorced?”
“I didn’t know anything about their...marriage arrangements.”
“Dead, she walks away with everything the two have accumulated since the marriage, which is no small amount. Had she divorced him, she could have gotten half of whatever their high-priced lawyers didn’t take. In other words, a whole lot less, and it could have been years before she got her share if there was a long legal battle, since his business is tied up with his father’s.”
She watched him grind his teeth but he said nothing. “Here’s what bothers me. Other than the huge coincidence of her pocket dialing you in particular, you didn’t hear him threatening her on the phone. Normally in an argument like the one you thought you overheard, the husband would have been saying something as he attacked his wife. Also, why did she have the gun with her in the kitchen? If she was really afraid for her life, why not leave? Why not call 911? Because she needed him dead to get the money.”
He shook his head. “What if it was exactly what it seems and Humphrey was beating her?”
“Do you really believe that?”
“I don’t know what to believe, but I’m starting to wonder if Bart got to you. He wants his brand of justice and he has the money to buy it. And if I know him, which I do, he wants Rachel to pay for shooting his son. Did she really believe that Humphrey was going to beat her to death? I don’t know. You’re the one with all the answers. Not me.” He got to his feet. “This interview is over.” With that, Ford Cardwell stomped out.
Chapter Twelve
Ford walked away from his interrogation by the medical examiner feeling angry, scared and confused again. As if he hadn’t been all of those since he’d answered his phone and heard a woman screaming. All of this felt...complicated. Complicated like Rachel herself.
Since the phone call, seeing her, overhearing her and Shyla talking earlier, one thing had become clear to him. Love was often blind. His certainly had been. This had made him see Rachel more clearly than he ever had before. The thought almost made him laugh. The shine had definitely come off those old feelings he’d had for her back in college.
Did he have his doubts about her story? Hell, yes. He kept remembering how completely awestruck Humphrey had been with her. Even though Humphrey had known that she’d married him for his money, he’d still loved her passionately, blindly, unconditionally. So what had happened? Whatever it was, it had destroyed not just their marriage, but their lives.
He’d come to the hospital to see Rachel. But after his interview with Hitch, he didn’t feel up to it. As he started out of the hospital, though, he received a text from her. Need your help. Rachel. XOXO. Hugs and kisses, followed by a smiley face.
As he pushed open her door, he heard her on the phone. She sounded...happy. The moment she saw him, she quickly disconnected.
“You’re in a good mood,” he said to her, hating that the medical examiner’s suspicions had only made him aware of his own. Her injuries aside, her cheeks were flushed and she was the old Rachel, the one who turned heads when she walked past. It was as if she’d forgotten what had happened not all that long ago, ending with her killing her husband.
“That was my attorney on the phone,” she said, smiling. “He said I will be booked tomorrow, but once I’m arraigned, he thinks he can get me bai
l so I won’t have to spend any time in jail. That is such a relief.”
“I’m so glad to hear it,” Ford said. If her attorney really thought he could get her bail, then he must think the evidence to support her case was sufficient. Did that mean she was innocent? Would a jury see it that way?
“What can I do to help?” Ford asked, noticing that the bruising on her face was more pronounced even though her cuts and abrasions appeared to be healing.
“The sheriff took my clothing as evidence,” Rachel said. “I can’t show up in court in a hospital gown. I need something to wear.”
Ford hadn’t thought of that. Of course she would need clothes. He’d been feeling so helpless since he’d arrived here. Now there was actually something he could do to help. “I can buy you whatever you need.”
“No, that’s really sweet, but I prefer my own clothes since you can’t get anything decent to wear in this town. Would you mind going out to the house?”
This was definitely the old Rachel, he thought, feeling more of the shine come off his infatuation with her. He didn’t want to see her house, where she and Humphrey had lived until...it ended.
She gave him a pouty look he remembered so well when she’d wanted something. “It’s a terrible inconvenience, I know.”
“I don’t mind.” It felt like the least he could do.
Brightening, she smiled a wide smile, even though it seemed to hurt her to do so. How many times had she turned that smile on him back in college? The medical examiner had asked if Rachel had known how he’d felt about her all those years ago. He looked into her blue eyes. This time when his heart ached, it had nothing to do with an old crush. Of course she knew. Wasn’t that why the medical examiner questioned why she’d called him even accidentally?
“I just want to look my best tomorrow in court.” The smile instantly disappeared, replaced with tears. “I look awful enough after what Humphrey did to me.”
It was so like Rachel to worry about her looks at a time like this. He wanted to laugh at how he’d romanticized coming to her rescue. Had he really thought that her call had been fate? That she’d saved his life? That if anyone could bring him back to life, it would be this woman he’d fantasized about for so long?
“Ford, I don’t know what I would have done without you,” she was saying. She held his gaze for a long moment before she reached for the pad and pen on the nightstand next to her bed. He wondered why she hadn’t asked Shyla to do it for her. Then he felt guilty for even questioning it. Hadn’t he told her he would do anything for her?
“I’ve made a list of what I need from my closet. I put the passcode on there so you can get in.”
“That won’t be necessary.” He turned to see Hitch had come into the room. “I’d be happy to take Ford out to the house to get what you need. They’ve finished cleaning for your return and I have the passcode to get inside.”
“I don’t need you to come along,” he said quickly. “I can handle it.”
“I want to check something out there anyway,” the medical examiner said. “We can go now. Unless you have something else you have to do,” she said to him.
She knew he had nothing he had to do. “No. Now’s fine.” He shifted his gaze back to Rachel in time to see dislike written all over her face. Her jaw was tight. Ice glittered in her blue eyes. She quickly changed her expression.
“Perfect,” she said and handed him the list before grabbing his hand. Her hand was as cold as her eyes as she smiled up at him and said, “I owe you. Thank you again.”
“I’ll wait for you in the hallway,” Hitch said and left.
Rachel let go of his hand as she stared after the medical examiner. “That woman.” She shook her head. “She scares me.”
Ford nodded. “She scares everyone.”
“No, she has it in for me. I can tell. She’s questioned me repeatedly. Is that her job?”
“I think in this instance it is.” He wasn’t sure if he should tell her Hitch’s suspicions. But didn’t she have a right to know what she was up against? “From what I hear, she has free rein. The governor apparently asked her to look into your case. At least that’s what I overheard when I was down at the sheriff’s office.”
“Bart’s doing, no doubt.” Rachel’s jaw tightened again, muscles bunching before she unclenched it. “If he gets his way, I’ll go to the electric chair.”
He could have told her that Montana didn’t have an electric chair, but the state still had lethal injection—though it hadn’t been used for a while, as far as he knew.
“It’s so unfair.” She touched the small new bandage on her cheekbone and winced. “It doesn’t matter what his son did to me, not just that night but others.” She looked away as if embarrassed.
“Why didn’t you leave him?” Ford asked impulsively. “If he was hurting you...”
When her blue eyes met his again, they were swimming in tears. “Because I loved him and I thought...” She shook her head. “He was always so sorry afterward and so sweet for a while until...he wasn’t.” She covered her face with her hands for a moment. “I still can’t believe he’s dead. All of it just seems like a bad nightmare. I keep waiting to wake up.”
“I know.” He felt the same way. “I better go. I’ll get everything on the list,” he said, carefully folding the paper and putting it into his shirt pocket. “I’ll bring the clothes back tonight so you’ll be ready in the morning.”
“I’ll never be ready for what I’m going to have to face tomorrow. Why do I have to prove anything? Can’t they look at me and see...?” She shook her head. “How could this be happening? I’m the real victim here. Our judicial system is so messed up that a woman can’t defend herself against a husband who’s trying to kill her?”
He didn’t know what to say. “You rest. I’ll see you later.”
Out in the hallway, Hitch was leaning against the wall, waiting for him.
* * *
ON THE DRIVE out to the Collinwood Ranch, Hitch could tell that Ford was still wary of her as if she was the enemy. She’d seen enough from the doorway of Rachel Collinwood’s hospital room, though, to see how the woman manipulated him. The question was, how long had she been playing him?
As the huge rambling house came into view, Hitch saw that all the lights in the entire house must be on. She suspected a person could see it from space. The cleaners must have left the lights on. Hitch knew that she hadn’t turned them on.
The crime scene tape had been removed since the last time she was out here. The sheriff had told her that he’d hired cleaners with Rachel’s permission. Hitch parked and glanced over at Ford. He was staring at the house, looking a little dumbstruck. “Nice digs, huh.”
He said nothing as he opened the passenger-side door and stepped out. She followed, curious what he was going to think of this house and the way Rachel and Humphrey had been living.
Once inside the house, she asked, “Would you like to see where it happened?”
“No,” he said, glancing toward the kitchen and then looking away as he removed his Stetson.
She saw that he had the list Rachel had given him in his other hand. He seemed to be in a hurry to get this task finished. “You’ve never been here before?”
His gaze shot back to her. “No. I already told you—”
“It was just a question.”
He shook his head. “No question is just a question with you, State Medical Examiner Roberts, and we both know it.”
“Please, call me Hitch.”
“Are you always so suspicious of people’s motives, Hitch?” he asked.
“It comes with the job. Getting to the truth isn’t always easy.”
“Whom are you kidding?” he said. “You’ve already made up your mind about this case.”
“What makes you think that? Just because I’m suspicious?”
“No,” h
e said with a laugh. “You were suspicious of Rachel right from the very beginning. Admit it.”
“Not right from the very beginning.”
“Then when?” he demanded.
“If you must know, it was the phone call. I have trouble with coincidences.”
“They happen.”
She smiled and nodded. “But did it happen this time? The fact that it wasn’t just any number she happened to call has to make a person wonder. Calling a man who she knows is still in love with her—”
“I’m not still in love with her.”
He sounded adamant about that. “No?” she asked in surprise.
“Can we please get this over with?” he asked, his voice cracking with anger. “You’re wrong about me. Humphrey was my friend. If I thought for a minute that she’d somehow set the whole thing up so she could murder him...”
“What would you do, Ford?” Hitch asked. “Walk away?”
“Yes,” he said. “And not look back—after I was sure that justice had been done.”
She studied him for a long moment. She thought of what she knew about his military career, the man who’d risked his life to save the men on his plane. She believed him. “I suppose we’d better get to that list of yours,” she said, turning to lead the way down the hall to Rachel’s massive walk-in closet. “I figured you’d need my help to find whatever she’s planning to wear tomorrow.”
“I think I can manage, thank you.”
She laughed. “You haven’t seen her closet yet.”
As they reached the master bedroom, Hitch walked in and stopped to look back so she didn’t miss Ford’s reaction. He tried to hide it, but she could tell from his expression that he was taken aback at the size and splendor of the place.
“The closet is this way. They also had separate bathrooms.” She walked into the closet with its sitting area. The walls around it were full of clothes, shoes, purses, coats. It looked more like an upscale department store. Hitch wondered if a person could wear all of this apparel even in a year.