by BJ Daniels
As for the kiss… Dakota told herself that as nice as it had been, it was just a kiss. But the purring of her pulse beneath her skin, the erratic beat of her heart, the quick breaths, all of those spoke of the true effect that Zane Chisholm’s kiss had on her.
Dakota only hoped Zane hadn’t noticed. Or if he had, that he thought it was the phone ringing that made her hand tremble as she pulled the bagged phone out of her purse.
She looked down at the phone as it rang again. “It’s the same number calling from before, the one that hung up when I answered. What should I do?”
The phone rang a fourth time. “Don’t answer it. Maybe they’ll leave a message.”
The phone rang once more, then fell silent.
* * *
SHERIFF MCCALL CRAWFORD stood in front of the mirror, studying her changed figure.
“It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful,” her husband, Luke, said as he came up behind her and placed his palms over her bare, round abdomen. He kissed her on the back of the neck, then peeked at her in the mirror.
“Why are you frowning?” he asked.
“Was I?” she asked, quickly checking her expression. “I’m just so…big. I’m going to have to get a new uniform.”
“Or you could go ahead and take maternity leave,” Luke suggested.
She met his gaze in the mirror. “I have another month before the baby’s due.” She wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know. McCall turned in his arms to face him. “You want me to quit.”
“No, I…” He sighed. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you and the baby. I know that is horribly selfish. Sorry. It’s just how I feel.”
She started to tell him that she was the sheriff and had a job to do and that he knew that when he married her, but she stopped herself. She had to admit that lately she’d been feeling the same way.
She would be out on a call and feel their baby move inside her and all she could think about was that little life. The thought of putting their baby in jeopardy scared her. She didn’t want to be afraid to do her job. If that happened, she told herself she would quit.
“Nick will be back in a few days.” Her undersheriff would be filling in while she was on maternity leave. “I’ll see about taking my leave then.”
What she couldn’t tell Luke was about her fears. Ruby hadn’t been a bad mother, just not a great one. McCall wanted to be a great one.
But that was only one of her fears. She was afraid that she wouldn’t want to go back to being sheriff after their daughter was born, that she had worked this hard to be the best law enforcement officer she could only to give it up. She felt torn and hated that feeling. Why couldn’t she have it all?
Her cell phone rang.
Luke groaned. “Duty calls.”
She kissed him and reached for her phone, listened, then said, “I’ll be right there.”
As she snapped the phone shut and reached to put on her clothing she saw her husband’s expression. “A lime-green compact was found south of town in a ravine,” she told him. “I’m sure there is nothing for you to look so worried about.”
But as she climbed into her patrol SUV and headed south toward the isolated wilderness of the Missouri Breaks, McCall had a bad feeling about the car and driver.
The deputy had told her the car was registered to a Courtney Hughes. But in the purse found inside, he’d discovered a credit card under the name Courtney Baxter—the woman who’d been seen out with Zane Chisholm two nights ago.
McCall hated to jump to conclusions. But neither Zane Chisholm nor Courtney Baxter had called her back, she reminded herself as she drove the narrow dirt road south into the rugged breaks country.
Chapter Seven
“The caller didn’t leave a message,” Dakota said after checking. She couldn’t help being disappointed, though not surprised.
“If Courtney left that phone under my bed on purpose—”
“Then that was probably her calling before to see if you’d found it,” Dakota said.
“If she didn’t, then someone else is looking for her. Might as well try the numbers she called and received calls from.”
Dakota punched in the last number that had called.
The phone rang four times and went to voice mail. An electronic voice instructed her to leave a message.
She didn’t.
She tried the only other different number. A male voice answered on the second ring.
“Where the hell are you?” the man demanded. “You leave in the middle of the night without a word? And what the hell am I supposed to do with your bar tab? If you think I’m picking it up, you’re crazy.”
Dakota looked over at Zane wide-eyed and mimed, “What do I do?”
“Talk?” he mouthed back.
She opened her mouth, but feared the man would hang up the moment she spoke. She let out a sigh, an impatient one like she’d heard Courtney do numerous times.
Silence.
“You’re in trouble, aren’t you?” he said, then swore angrily. “I told you not to get involved with these people.” These people? Silence. “Courtney?”
“You were right,” Dakota said, dropping her voice in the hopes she would sound enough like her sister.
Silence. Then he let out a curse. She heard the telltale sound of the phone disconnecting.
“Well,” she said after repeating what the man had said, “Courtney’s involved in something.”
“Yeah, we kind of figured that. Bar tab, huh? Would you recognize the man’s voice if you heard it again?”
“I think so.”
“Sounds like she hooked up with a bartender at one of the local bars and ran up a tab,” Zane said. “We might have to hit the bars.”
Dakota nodded as she looked down at the list of phone numbers. “No other numbers we don’t know.”
* * *
THE LIME-GREEN COMPACT CAR was almost hidden in a stand of old junipers at the bottom of the ravine.
McCall found her deputy waiting for her beside a patrol car parked at the side of the road. As she walked over to the edge of the ravine, she noted the tire tracks where the car had gone off the road.
“No skid marks, no sign of the driver trying to brake,” the deputy said as he joined her.
“Could have been going too fast and missed the curve, didn’t have time to brake,” McCall said.
“Yep, could have,” he agreed.
That was, if Courtney Baxter had been driving the car.
“Got to wonder what she was doing way out here,” the deputy said.
“No sign of the driver?” McCall asked.
The deputy shook his head. “I couldn’t find any tracks, but then we had that big storm down this way the other night. Could have covered ’em.”
“Let’s go see,” McCall said, and saw the deputy shoot her a look.
“It’s pretty steep,” he warned.
She ignored him and started down the slope. It was steep, the ground unstable. The dirt moved under her, an avalanche of soil. She began to slide and realized too late how she’d let her pride overrun her good sense.
Fortunately, the embankment ended at the edge of the junipers. She slid to a stop near the bottom of the ravine, grabbed a branch on one of the juniper trees and used it to keep from sliding any farther.
She felt the baby kick and smiled. That had actually been fun, she thought as she moved around the junipers to the side of the lime-green vehicle.
One glance told her what she already knew. The car was empty.
McCall glanced around, checking the ground for footprints. The only ones in the dirt were the deputy’s. Either he was right about the storm erasing them, or no one had been in the car when it had gone off the road.
McCall pulled on the latex gloves from her pocket and opened the driver’s side door. She caught the smell of something sour and felt her stomach roil. She’d been this way since the beginning of her pregnancy. No three months of morning sickness for her. Every smell affe
cted her.
As she drew back from the odor, she noticed that the keys were in the ignition and the car was in Neutral. She checked the seat. It was pushed all the way back.
Whoever had last driven this car was long-legged, possibly longer-legged than Courtney Hughes aka Courtney Baxter.
McCall suspected that someone had pushed the car off the road into the deep ravine. Hoping it wouldn’t be found?
Hard to hide a lime-green anything, though.
Holding her breath, she leaned into the car to check under the seats. She found the bloody rag stuffed under the passenger seat. It was wrapped around something heavy. Carefully, she turned back the dark-stained edges of the rag to reveal a gun.
The grip was stained with what appeared to be blood. The smell of the dried blood turned her stomach. She quickly wrapped the gun back up, leaving it on the floor of the passenger side, and stepped away from the car.
Taking large gulps of fresh air, McCall fought to keep her breakfast down. The last thing she wanted to do was contaminate the scene. She took a few more deep breaths, steadied herself, then called to the deputy to contact the state crime lab.
After a few moments, she made the climb back up to her patrol SUV. The baby kicked again. She placed her hand on her stomach, felt the movement and made a promise to her infant and her husband that she would stop this—as soon as the undersheriff got back. Just a few more days.
“Everything is going to be fine,” she whispered as much to herself as her baby.
But she feared that wasn’t the case for Courtney Baxter.
* * *
DAKOTA DROVE PART OF THE WAY back to the Lansing ranch while Zane slept.
She’d had a lot of time to think. Too much time apparently, since she’d found herself reliving Zane’s kiss. A part of her wished she hadn’t cut it off when she had. Another part of her, the logical, smart part, thought she should have stopped him sooner.
She was more than aware of Zane’s reputation with women. She had no intention of becoming one of them. Last night, lying in her motel room bed, knowing he was only feet away in the next room, she’d had a terrible time getting to sleep.
Dakota hated that he still had that effect on her. She felt like that silly girl who’d trailed after him hoping for even just a smile from him.
As she turned down the road to the ranch, she knew she couldn’t keep spending day after day with him.
Zane jerked awake as she pulled into the yard and cut the engine. Without a word, he was out of the pickup and striding toward the front door of the guesthouse.
She went after him. “Courtney’s car isn’t— Just a minute. I have the key… .” Her words died off as she saw Zane try the knob. It turned in his hand and the door swung open.
He glanced back at her, all his fears culminating in his expression. He seemed to brace himself as he waited for her to join him before he stepped inside.
Dakota wasn’t sure what she expected. She had a pretty good idea that Zane might have anticipated finding Courtney sprawled dead on one of the Navajo rugs gracing the hardwood floors.
The small living area was empty. So were the kitchen and bedroom and bath, as well as the closet.
“She’s cleared out,” Zane said, turning to look at her.
Dakota stared at the empty closet in surprise. When Courtney had shown up at their father’s funeral with evidence that she was her half sister, Dakota had been afraid Courtney was after half the ranch.
After the shock of having a sister had worn off, Dakota had decided that Courtney deserved half interest in the ranch and their father’s business. She was Clay Lansing’s daughter, after all, and she’d missed out on a lot. Why shouldn’t she have a chance to live on the ranch if she wanted to?
“I always wanted a sister,” she said.
Zane gave her an odd look.
“I was just getting used to the idea.” She sighed. “She would have noticed that her suitcase and money were missing, don’t you think?”
“Unless she wasn’t the one who cleaned everything out. Whoever gave her the money might not know what she did with it.”
“Why would someone else remove all her things?”
“To make us think she is still alive.”
Still alive. Dakota felt a chill at his words.
“If Courtney came back and realized her suitcase was missing, I’m sure she’ll be in contact with you soon.” He didn’t sound as if he believed that was going to happen any more than she did.
She watched him search the small guesthouse. “What are you looking for?”
“Anything she might have left behind. You didn’t happen to write down her license plate number, did you?”
“No, I had no reason to.” But now that she thought of it, it would have been a good idea. She had just assumed that her biggest worry was that her sister would try to force her to sell the ranch so Courtney could get her share.
So what had changed?
Zane, she thought as she watched him move the bureau away from the wall. Zane and ten thousand dollars, is that what had changed? If they were right and her birth mother had contacted her, was it possible she’d put Courtney up to this? But why? It made no sense.
No, Dakota thought. This had to have something to do with her and Zane and Courtney being spiteful. But how far was her sister planning to take this? That’s what scared her.
She stepped closer to see what Zane was reaching for. “You found something?”
“A credit card receipt. Looks like it was for food and drinks at the bar in Zortman.” He held it up. “Is it yours?”
“I can’t imagine how it could be. What is the date on it?”
“A week ago.”
She shook her head. “I hardly ever get down to Zortman.” It was a small old mining town an hour to the south.
“Has anyone else been in this room since then?”
“No. Just Courtney.”
He met her gaze. “This could be the bartender who called. He apparently knows more than we do about what Courtney’s been up to. How do you feel about hitting that bar down in Zortman? I need to check in at home first. I’m surprised that my brothers don’t have the National Guard out looking for me.”
“Give me a call when you’re ready and I’ll drive over to Whitehorse later,” Dakota said. “I need to take care of a few things around here first.” The lie seemed to hang between them.
“Sure. You know you don’t have to go. I can go down and talk to the bartender on my own.”
Dakota hesitated, caught between wanting to find Courtney and wanting to put distance between her and Zane and the old feelings he evoked in her.
“No,” she said, finding Courtney and her diary winning out. “Just give me a call.”
* * *
WHEN ZANE’S CELL PHONE RANG, he thought it was Dakota calling to say she’d changed her mind. He’d seen that she hadn’t wanted to go with him to Zortman. He didn’t blame her. They’d been together now for almost forty-eight hours. Clearly, she’d had enough of him.
He mentally kicked himself for kissing her as he took the call. Had he thought she was still that starry-eyed girl who’d had a crush on him? What had he been thinking?
“Just received those DNA results from the cell phone,” Doc said by way of introduction, then paused.
“Yes?”
“Whoever’s blood is on the phone, I can tell you that the person is female and related to Dakota Lansing.”
“Could it be a sister with the same father, different mothers?” Zane asked.
“Definitely could be from what I see in the DNA report,” Doc said.
So Courtney really was her sister. He’d been so sure she wasn’t and that she’d been pretending to be Clay Lansing’s love child as part of some elaborate scam—a scam that somehow involved him.
And the blood was Courtney’s. That thought was slow coming, but hit him like a brick. There hadn’t been a lot of blood, but enough to scare him.
He had hoped it
had been staged and would end up being animal blood.
“You still there?” Doc asked.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m just surprised. Thanks.” As he hung up, he turned down his lane and saw the sheriff’s SUV sitting in front of his house. He swore under his breath.
He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw his face. It wasn’t that much better than it had been yesterday. The scratches were starting to heal, but still shocking.
Worse, he couldn’t explain any of it, including the blood on Courtney’s phone. Glancing over, he saw the bagged phone sitting on the seat where Dakota had left it. He pocketed the plastic bag with the phone inside and parked next to the SUV, hoping the sheriff wasn’t here with bad news.
As he climbed out, he caught a glimpse of McCall’s expression and knew whatever she was here for wasn’t good.
“Zane,” the sheriff said as she climbed awkwardly out of her rig.
He saw the exact moment she got a good look at his face and the scratches. Her expression darkened even more.
“Want to tell me how you got those scratches?” She sounded angry and disappointed.
He was pretty sure she now knew that he’d been hiding in the bathroom the other day so she wouldn’t see his face. He swore silently. He looked even more guilty. Worse, the sheriff would know Dakota had been in on it.
“I don’t know how I got the scratches,” he said honestly. “But I’ll tell you what I do know.”
She nodded slowly. “Maybe we better step inside your house. You have a problem with that?”
He shook his head. He knew he should probably call the ranch lawyer. At the very least make her get a warrant. But he feared that would only make matters worse. He knew McCall, knew the kind of sheriff she was. All he could do was put his cards on the table.
Once inside the house, he offered the sheriff a seat as well as something to drink. Not surprisingly, she wasn’t in the mood for either.
He told her everything, leaving out nothing but making sure he covered for Dakota.