B.J. Daniels

by Forsaken

“Fine,” Alex finally called back. “Geoff’s leg was bothering him, so he tried to walk it off. We’re going back to bed now. Got a lot of country to cover tomorrow, huh, buddy?”

  Clete said nothing as he watched the two of them exchange a few whispered words before going back to their tents.

  What the hell? he thought. He told himself he didn’t want to know what that was about. What had almost gotten Geoff killed? Whatever it was, it explained his limp. The fool hadn’t gone to a doctor?

  Clete lay back down. Just a couple more days and he would be shed of them. He repeated that thought like a mantra.

  That was if they didn’t implode before then. Either way, he just wanted his money and to be done with this.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “I HEARD NETTIE BENTON was here last night,” Undersheriff Dillon Lawson said that evening in Frank’s hospital room.

  Frank sighed. “I told her to stay away from me.”

  Dillon shook his head. “Why didn’t you just tell her about Pam?”

  “Because you don’t know Lynette. I’m afraid she’d go after Pam with a baseball bat,” he said and couldn’t help but smile at the truth in those words. “Nothing could keep her away if she thought it was what Pam wanted.”

  “How did she take it?”

  Frank had replayed the scene over every waking moment since last night. He couldn’t bear to think about the hurt he’d seen in Lynette’s eyes. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized just how much he loved her. Worse, he didn’t want to live without her.

  But the worst possible thing he could have done was admit that to her. He needed her to keep her distance. “As long as Pam is out there...” Frank looked to his undersheriff.

  “You’ve probably done the best thing for Nettie right now. But I’m worried about you. Pam has managed to get away with attacking you. She isn’t going to back off. My hope is that we can catch her in the act next time.”

  “Next time?” Frank echoed.

  “I figured you were probably safe here in the hospital, but once you get out...” The undersheriff’s cell phone rang. He checked it and said, “I have to take this.”

  Frank watched him. Listening to the one-sided conversation, he could tell it was sheriff’s-department business.

  “What’s going on?” he asked when Dillon disconnected.

  “Our new deputy, Bentley Jamison, took a call on a possible homicide up in the Beartooths.” He filled him in. “We’ve been holding Dewey Putman until we heard from Jamison or got the lab results on his bloody clothing. Maddie is his guardian, but I’ve sent word up north to his father.”

  “This is the first I’m hearing about this? I know Dewey Putman. Jamison thinks the boy killed Branch Murdock?”

  “Dewey had been in a fight and lied about it. Jamison went up into the Beartooths with Maddie Conner two days ago. You were out of town, so I’ve been handling it. Our feeling was that it might come to nothing.”

  “And?” Frank could tell that Dillon had gotten some news.

  “We haven’t heard anything from Jamison. According to Dewey, the sheepherder was missing, but I just got a call that Branch Murdock’s horse turned up in a barn near Gardiner. It appears that Dewey might not be the only one who rode out of the mountains after some kind of altercation.”

  “Did I hear you say on the phone that the lab got back to you on the blood on the boy’s clothing?” Frank asked.

  “Lamb’s blood, just like he said. I’ll let Jamison know as soon as he calls in. We’ll let the boy go once I hear that Branch Murdock is all right.”

  “So Jamison is up in the mountains with Maddie Conner,” Frank said, chuckling. “That should definitely break him into being a deputy out here in the Wild West.”

  He sobered, though, as he realized what this could mean for Maddie. “If Branch’s horse was found, then where is the sheepherder?”

  Dillon shrugged. “He apparently hasn’t turned up yet. But it’s suspicious, his horse turning up in a barn. The old guy could have split.”

  Frank hated to think that might be the case. “Maddie will have to bring her sheep down or stay up there by herself. As it is, she’s going to have to find herself another tender. I doubt Dewey will be going back up. Imagine Bentley Jamison herding sheep.”

  He felt the undersheriff studying him.

  “What about you?” Dillon said after a moment. “What are you going to do when you get out of here?”

  Frank had thought about that. “Did you know that J. D. West is back in town? He’s renting that apartment over Lynette’s store. I thought I’d check and see if there are any outstanding warrants on him.”

  The undersheriff lifted a brow. “I can do that for you. But are you worried about him or Nettie?”

  “There’s one other person Pam hates even more than me. I’m scared she’ll go after Nettie next.”

  “So maybe having J.D. around could turn out to be a godsend,” Dillon said. “Unless you’re worried he’ll sweep her off her feet.”

  Frank scowled at him, and Dillon suddenly remembered there was someplace he needed to be.

  Lying back in the bed, Frank couldn’t help but worry. He had to protect Lynette until this was resolved. Unfortunately, the only way he could see to resolve it was for Pam Chandler to die.

  But he knew one thing for sure. He couldn’t stand another minute in this hospital bed. He suspected that Dillon had asked the doctor to keep him an extra day, thinking to keep Frank safe here.

  “He doesn’t know Pam,” Frank said to himself as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was still weak, head aching and a little dizzy, but he felt well enough to get out of here no matter what the doctor—or Dillon—said.

  He found clean clothes in the closet that Dillon had brought for him from his house and got dressed. The clothes he’d been wearing the night he’d discovered Pam in his house had been taken as evidence. Both he and Dillon were hoping that she’d left some of her DNA on them.

  The hospital was quiet this time of the night, which made it easy for him to slip out. He walked the couple of blocks to the sheriff’s office.

  The spring night was chilly, but the cold air felt good. He breathed it deeply into his lungs. He’d never liked being inside all that much. Montana born and raised, he loved the outdoors. This was his home, he thought as he looked toward the Crazy Mountains. The snowcapped peaks glowed in the starlight. A couple more days and there would be a full moon, he thought as he stepped into the office.

  “Sheriff,” the dispatcher said, sounding surprised to see him. “I didn’t think you were getting out of the hospital until tomorrow.”

  “I got out on good behavior,” he told her as he headed for his office for a key to one of the county rigs parked out back.

  Key in hand, he continued on out the back door to a waiting vehicle with Sweetgrass County Sheriff’s Department printed on the side.

  He suddenly realized as he started the motor that he didn’t know where he was going. So he sat for a moment, just letting the engine idle. He wanted to go to Lynette, tell her he hadn’t meant what he’d said and explain everything.

  But he couldn’t do that. In fact, he couldn’t go anywhere in this patrol SUV—if he hoped not to be noticed. He headed home to trade the sheriff’s-department SUV for his old truck. Fortunately, he always left the key in it. He wasn’t up to facing his ransacked house. Not tonight.

  Maybe he couldn’t go to Lynette. But he could make sure Pam didn’t, either.

  * * *

  NETTIE BENTON HADN’T danced in years. She felt breathless and light as air as she started down the deserted street toward home with J.D. at her side. They’d begun the day with J.D.’s breakfast burritos. He’d been right about the salsa. It had been hot and spicy and fantastic. She’d asked for his recipe.

  Then tonight they’d had dinner, dancing their way through Big Timber only to return to Beartooth to dance a little longer down at the Range Rider.

  She’d felt J.D.’s appr
oving gaze on her all night. He made her feel young and beautiful and...desirable. Frank had once made her feel that way. She pushed that thought away. Just as Frank had done her.

  “Tired of living in the past?” J.D. had asked at the bar as he’d held her in his arms during a slow dance.

  “Is that what we’ve been doing?”

  He had given her a sympathetic smile. “I will always be the bad guy. But you don’t always have to be the woman waiting around for Frank Curry. Life is too short. Too short for regrets, either. We are who we are, and tonight we’re the best-looking couple on the dance floor.”

  She’d laughed because at that moment they’d been the only couple left on the dance floor. The bartender—some guy Clete had gotten to fill in for him, they’d been told—had finally thrown them out way past closing time.

  Outside, the spring night was alive with stars and a partial silver moon that peeked in and out of the high pine boughs. Beartooth was a ghost town this time of the night. Not that it wasn’t close to one in the daytime.

  Nettie couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much fun. Heck, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had fun.

  “Nettie,” J.D. said when they reached her house on the mountain behind the store.

  She turned to find him standing mere inches from her. She felt her breath catch and her heart beat a little faster at the look in his eyes.

  “I think you should invite me in,” he said. Before she could run through all the reasons that was a bad idea, he said, “Nettie, we need each other tonight.”

  She’d had just enough to drink that she thought he might be right. He reached for her, pulling her into his arms and kissing her. She closed her eyes, lost in the warmth of human contact after going so long without it.

  Nettie couldn’t even remember the last time a man had taken her in his arms, let alone when one had wanted her.

  Reaching behind her, she opened the door to her house, and the two of them stumbled in. Wrapped up in each other and the moment, neither of them noticed the pickup parked up the street—or the person sitting behind the wheel.

  * * *

  CLETE WOKE WITH A START. For a moment he forgot where he was. He’d expected to see Bethany lying next to him when he’d opened his eyes.

  He sat up a little and blinked, trying to focus his eyes as well as his mind. Opening the flap on the tent, he looked out.

  Tony was snoring loudly in the far pup tent. The flap on Alex’s tent was open, the tent empty.

  As Clete climbed out and stretched, he spotted Alex up on the ridge again. He had his cell phone in his hand. But he wasn’t making a call. He was looking at the screen. Was he actually taking a photo? Or reading a text?

  As Alex turned and saw him, he gave a little wave, pocketed the phone and loped down the mountainside and into camp.

  “Amazing sunrise,” he said. His cheeks were flushed, and if Clete hadn’t known better, he would have said Alex was high on something. His eyes seemed a little too bright. Clete realized he’d never seen the man this excited. It did his heart good to think that Alex might actually be enjoying this.

  “It is amazing up here,” Clete agreed and turned as Geoff crawled out of the tent. He was still limping badly. “How’s the leg?”

  Geoff shot a look at Alex. “I’ll live.”

  “You know those football injuries,” Alex said. “We don’t have to tell you about those, do we.”

  “No.” Clete knew he was fortunate that his injury had only ended his football career—not left him crippled. But Geoff’s injury had nothing to do with football. So what was the big secret? Something that was Alex’s fault and had almost gotten the man killed.

  “Tony! Come on. Let’s get movin’,” Alex called. “The day’s a-wastin’.”

  “I’ll fix us some breakfast, while you guys break camp,” Clete said.

  Geoff shot Alex a look as if to say, “I thought we were paying him to do everything.”

  Clete could tell by the set of Alex’s jaw that he knew he had a rebellion on his hands—and he planned to squash it.

  “Sure,” Alex said. “We put the tents up. I’m sure we can figure out how to take them down. Anyway, we can’t expect Clete to do everything. Not unless we want to be here all morning.”

  Geoff didn’t look happy about it. He walked over to kick the tent on the side Tony was curled against it. A loud curse came from inside, instantly improving Geoff’s mood.

  On impulse, Clete said, “I’ll make breakfast right after I make a quick call.” He hurriedly climbed the mountainside, suddenly feeling the need to hear his wife’s voice. When he got through, the connection wasn’t good, and Bethany was half-asleep. He told her he loved her and got off the phone.

  Back in camp, he set about making breakfast, noticing that the three were doing a poor job of breaking camp. He’d have to do most of their packing over, but at least they’d taken down the tents and rolled up the sleeping bags.

  He knew he shouldn’t be surprised that he felt like a third wheel. He’d never been one of them, even when they’d been on the same team together.

  After breakfast, he noticed that Alex and Geoff had their heads together. He’d written off the tension between them as Geoff merely being in pain and blaming Alex for it. But there was definitely something going on between the three.

  From the start Geoff hadn’t seemed into this trip. Alex was the one pushing it. Hadn’t he said something about not being able to do this without Geoff? He was also the one who’d insisted on Clete being part of it.

  Geoff, Clete realized, had never liked him. Because he wasn’t one of them? Or because Geoff didn’t feel he could trust him?

  Clete was Montana born. The others had come from other parts of the country to Montana to play college football. They had the support of their wealthy families and probably still did. Alex had hinted that they all owned massive summer homes in one of the “in” places like Flathead Lake or the Bitterroot or Paradise valleys.

  The three had never worked until after college, and even now Clete doubted they started on the bottom of anything and worked their way up. Their fathers probably set them up.

  He knew he was being as hard on them as they had been on him. But he couldn’t help resenting them. No one had ever given him anything. He’d earned everything he had. And while they played at life, he had a wife at home and a baby on the way to support.

  Alex, he noticed, was in Geoff’s face. Clete expected fists to start flying any moment. He wondered what they were fighting about now. The three had always kept secrets and shared inside jokes, no doubt to keep people like him on the outside. He told himself he didn’t care what their problem was, but it brought back those old bad feelings from when they’d played football together.

  “Breakfast is ready,” he called.

  The two stepped apart. Tony had wandered off into the woods but returned saying he was starved. Nothing new there.

  As Alex and Geoff returned to the fire, Alex said, “Geoff’s leg is really bothering him.” He made a face as if to say he thought Geoff was a big baby. “He wants to go back.”

  “I really don’t think you should go back by yourself.”

  “You really don’t have any say in it,” Geoff snapped.

  “Sorry, but you’re riding my uncle’s horse. Unless you want to walk out of here—”

  “Easy, you two,” Alex said, putting a hand on Geoff’s arm. “Clete’s right. We all go on together or we all go back. What’s it going to be, Geoff?”

  The larger of the men had his hands balled into fists at his sides. Geoff could take Alex in a fight, hands down. But Alex had always been the leader on and off the football field. No one, especially Tony and Geoff, questioned his authority.

  “Either way, you have to pay up,” Alex said. “Why don’t you start right now by giving Clete what we owe him?”

  Geoff jerked his arm free of Alex’s hold and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “I didn’t bring any c
ash with me.”

  Alex chuckled. “Is that right?”

  “You know damned well that’s right or you wouldn’t have called me on it,” Geoff snapped.

  Clete was beginning to think turning back was the best plan and said as much.

  “No,” Geoff said. “I’ll be fine.” He shot Alex a look as if he wished him dead.

  “So we’re all good,” Alex said and smiled.

  As Geoff limped off saying he was going to take a leak, Alex said, “He just got up on the wrong side of the bed.”

  “I don’t think so. I think that leg is really bothering him.” He thought of Bethany and his son. Any misgivings he’d had before this were now amplified.

  “He’ll be fine.” Alex seemed to relax. “So, let’s eat and hit the trail.”

  “Yeah, the trail.” Clete ate quickly then set to work repacking everything and saddling up the horses. To his surprise, Alex fell in next to him, insisting on learning how to saddle the horses.

  “Geoff is having some money problems,” Alex said, keeping his voice down as he worked. “His fitness business isn’t doing so well. Creditors are putting pressure on him.... That’s why he’s been in such a bad mood. He hit Tony and me up for money. We both had to turn him down. Geoff doesn’t know crap about running a business. I thought this trip through the mountains would cheer him up, but the adventure I suggested before this trip got him hurt.” He shrugged.

  Clete was taken aback by Alex confiding in him—especially with such intimate information. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Yeah,” Alex said. “I just thought you should know. Sorry to have involved you in it.”

  “His leg really does seem to be bothering him,” Clete said again. “You said the adventure before this got him hurt?”

  “I had suggested this motorcycle course...” Alex shook his head. “Geoff crashed his bike and got banged up. I offered to postpone this trip, but he was determined he’d be fine. He didn’t want anyone to know that he’d hurt his leg. I told him I would help him out financially when this was over.”

  Tony and Geoff had disappeared into the woods. As they now reappeared, their conversation sounded heated. Alex fiddled with his saddlebag, apparently pretending he couldn’t hear them.