A Reason To Kill (Reason #2)

by C. P. Smith

  Hmm, maybe I wasn’t a good judge of character. Maybe I didn’t know Max as well as my gut thought. Maybe I SHOULD drive past and make sure he isn’t in her bed . . . or, maybe I should trust him . . .

  I was still trying to decide what to do when Suzy came to a stop and whispered “Shit.”

  When I didn’t respond, she nudged my shoulder and pointed. When I turned my head, I saw a cute little white house, not a log cabin, surprisingly, but a white bungalow that looked well taken care of. There were flowers filling the beds, a rocking chair on the cute little front porch that went with the cute little white house, and in the driveway of the cute little white house with the adorable garden was Max’s truck. In addition, the house was dark. As in not a light on in the place. My breath started coming in pants and I looked at my phone to see if I missed a text or call.

  Nope, nada, nothing.

  The knot in my chest started to strangle me as I pictured Max in the arms of Annie. I needed air, I needed to escape, I needed to go home, now, and never return.

  “Take me to Maxine’s,” I choked out as I turned my eyes from his truck.

  Joanne grumbled, “Men are all the same, even the hot ones,” as I closed my eyes to ward off the tears.

  “Always the hot ones,” Suzy hissed in outrage and female solidarity of the “men suck” kind. Then she gunned her engine and took me home.

  The whole way I kept telling myself “This is good, better to know now than after you uprooted your life, you barely knew him so no big loss.” So, by the time I’d walked in Maxine’s I couldn’t wait to pack my bags, leave all this behind as a lesson learned, and give Stetson what he wanted—me gone.

  With no way to leave for another day, I went in search of Jess and her two-seater BMW.

  “You ready to get back to Seattle?” I asked her as she lounged on the bed, laptop in hand.

  “Ready, willing, and able she gushed as she looked at her screen.”

  “No, I mean are you ready to go now.”

  She stopped typing, looked up at me, and read me like someone who’d known me my whole life.

  “What happened?’

  “Max is still at Annie’s and he’s staying the night,” I told her like it was no big deal as I pulled out my bag.

  “What?”

  “Suzy drove past, his truck is in the driveway, and all the lights are out. He told Maxine he’d call me, but he didn’t, you do the math.”

  “Mia, there could be a perfectly reasonable explanation—”

  “Jess, I’ve known him a week, he’s known her for two years. Occam’s razor says that in any given set of explanations for an event occurring, it is most likely that the simplest one is the correct one. I am not the simplest answer, I’m the complicated one. He had feelings for Annie and didn’t realize it till tonight is the simplest answer.”

  “Mia—”

  “Jess, please, I can’t face them. Let’s just pack our stuff and leave.”

  “Right now?”

  “The sooner we leave, the sooner you can see Brian and I can put this whole nightmare of a week behind me.”

  “But Maxine’s in bed, we can’t just run out on her like that.”

  “I’ll write her a note explaining I had to get back sooner that something came up.”

  “And Max?”

  “I’ll send him a text message. He can read it in the morning while they have coffee together,” I bit out.

  “Mia—”

  “Jess, I wanted this, so much, more than I even knew till I saw his truck sitting in her driveway. But he chose her tonight and I can’t bear to see them together, so please, can we just leave?”

  “Fine, but I’m going on record now that I think you’re wrong about Max and I intend to tell you, “I told you so” when he comes after you.”

  “Fair enough, but tell me this if you think I’m wrong. If you had slept with a guy, made a decision to take a leap of faith to see where it went even though you knew very little about him. Then you watched him walk out of a bar with his drunken ex as she cried about how much she loved him, without even saying goodbye, I might add. Then you go to her house and his truck is still there hours later and every light in the house is off, every stinkin’ one, what would you think?”

  Jess stared at me, bit her lip in thought for a moment, then nodded, threw back the covers and replied, “Give me thirty minutes and we can hit the road!”

  Sixteen

  Who’s the Boss

  “Ignore me for two days, I don’t think so Maximilian,” Maxine mumbled as she climbed out of her van and marched up the hill to his office. She’d been on Facebook for the past two days talking with Jess and she was going to put an end to this crap.

  Mia had been smart, too smart when she sent that text. She knew exactly what to say to get him to back off, to cut him a little, to keep him from picking up the damn phone and calling. Fortunately, Maxine had the antidote to what ailed Max and if he wouldn’t pick up his phone so she could tell him, then she’d just leave him a present that would set him straight without opening her mouth.

  He can avoid her all he likes, but he can’t avoid the truth, and the truth was he was just like her. All his life he’d heard how his father drove into Gunnison, Colorado, and swept her off her feet, but that was a lie. Tom Hunter drove into Gunnison and Maxine took one look at him and knew immediately he was the man for her. She just let Tom think it was his idea. Max was a Gunnison through and through, and when a Gunnison meets their soul mate, they feel it instantly. Same thing happened to her father, her brother, and her nephew Jack. Now it had happened to Max and she wasn’t about to let his pigheadedness get in the way of his destiny. So, she marched straight into Max’s office and laid the list on his desk. Then she tore off more paper and left her own note.

  “Max, don’t be an ass and go get your woman, Love Mom. P.S. I don’t need ten grandkids, but one before I die would be nice. PPS Tell Harry his edible lotion and performance enhancers arrived. PPPS Scratch that, I need more than one before I die so get crackin’ since I may only have a year or two left with the way you’re always stressing my damn nerves.

  With that out of the way, Maxine headed back to her van. Now all she had to do was figure out who killed Curly and all would be right in her world. His funeral the day before had been a wakeup call to the whole town. Seeing Curly laid out, clean for once, his head patched so you couldn’t tell where the axe had nailed him, all of it reminded us that life was short, and there was a killer living among them. However, until Mia was back and settled in, she’d have to drag Martha with her door-to-door. Martha could complain about her diverticulitis to distract them. What man would say no to an old woman with bowel troubles walking through his house?

  Max happened to pull in as she was climbing into her van so she waited as he made his way towards her, frowning of course. She plastered on a smile and ignored his mood. Maxine knew he was expecting her to tear into him for not answering his phone, and she should, but she’d let it slide—for now

  “You need somethin’?” he asked cautiously.

  “Nope, just droppin’ off a present is all. You can thank me later ‘cause I got errands to run and people to see.”

  “All right, I’ll talk to you later then.”

  “I suspect you will. Let me know when you need me to book your flight.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Gotta run, call me later and I’ll get it set up.”

  “You on some new medication I need to know about?”

  “I’m as healthy as a horse. Go look at your present and call me later with the details for God sakes. Yeesh, Gunnison men can be so obtuse,” she grumbled as she started her van and left Max standing in the lumberyard.

  As Max watched his mother drive away, he wondered, not for the first time, why God had saddled him with such a headstrong mother, one who tested his patience daily. Turning to his office, he climbed the stairs, unlocked the door, and made his way to his desk. When he saw two pieces of paper,
both in his mother's handwriting, he picked the top one up and read. Then he read it again. Confused, and a little disturbed he’d have to tell Harry his order was in, he picked up the other paper and read a list of pros and cons titled “Mia’s reasons for leaving or staying.”

  The pro’s outweighed the con’s two to one, but three things were glaringly obvious. A) Mia was a good liar. B) He’d fucked up royally when he left with Annie and C) Women were a pain in his ass. However, a pain like Mia he’d be willing to put up with for the next fifty years.

  Still reading the list, he pulled out his phone and then pulled up the text that Mia had sent him while on the road escaping Trails End.

 

  When he finished reading that ridiculous text Max mumbled, “Christ, she’s cute,” then pulled up his mother’s number and hit call.

  “I need to be in Seattle by Monday morning,” he told her when she answered then he hung up. He had shit to do and men to line up while he was gone, he didn’t have time to listen to her gloat. He’d been so fuckin’ busy the last week with Mia, and keeping track of his mother, he’d let shit slide and he had work backing up on him. Nevertheless, he’d have to put it off a few more days. First, he needed to head to Seattle, set Mia straight, and then haul her ass back where she belonged—right by his side.

  “As you can see, gentlemen, though my actions may have seemed on the surface, extreme, I hope those of you with wives and daughters can understand my reaction to being violated, be it by an officer of the law or not, was justified.”

  I’d spent the past two days since returning home searching YouTube for copies of a video that showed my arrest and subsequent kneeing Stetson in the nuts. I needed proof that my actions were justified, and I’d finally found one taken by a teen who’d been standing on the same side as Stetson’s wayward hand. It wasn’t a clear shot, but it showed enough, and I hoped it would put enough reasonable doubt in the minds of the board.

  More than anything, I needed this nightmare behind me so I could go back to my office, continue my work, and then try to find a way to move forward. To say I hadn’t had much sleep between video hunting and crying over ending things with Max wasn’t an understatement. It was the understatement of my life and I was running on fumes. I don’t know how Max weaved his way under my skin in one short week, but he had. I just didn’t know how much until I returned home to my lonely loft.

  I hadn’t heard a word from him since I left, not that I thought I would, and it was just as well. I couldn’t move on if he kept in touch. I needed a clean break and I got my wish with the carefully crafted text I sent.

  After hearing what Kelly had written to Max, that Trails End wasn’t for her, that she needed a more exciting life and that Max hadn’t gone after her when she left, I knew what I had to do. Jess thought I was wrong, said if the whole thing with Annie was a misunderstanding that I’d be ending things with a man who hadn’t done anything wrong, but I sent it anyway.

  And there was a reason why I had.

  Misunderstanding or not, I realized I couldn’t uproot my life for someone who didn’t want me and only me. Whatever was between Max and Annie, be it friendship or some sort of love, I wasn’t equipped to share him. I was a one-man woman and wanted to be with a one-woman man. Not three quarters, while a quarter of his attention went to a woman he felt more than friendship for. Maybe that made me selfish, and it probably did, but I didn’t want to spend my life watching Max run off every time Annie cried or got drunk. So, I sent a text and ended things with him the only way I knew how, permanently. Now, all I needed was my heart to understand so I could move forward and forget about Max and Trails End.

  As the men and woman on the board of SIOZ conversed quietly, deciding my fate, I reached forward, grabbed a bottle of water, and poured a glass while I tried not to panic. As I lifted the glass, my eyes still on the board, assessing their expressions, there was a knock on the door behind me. Mr. Springer, CEO of SIOZ, lifted his head and then motioned whoever was there to come in. As I turned my head to look, Springer asked me to “Run the video again, please,” before I could see who had entered.

  Nodding, I hit replay and then watched the board again for any signs they believed me. Just as Stetson’s thumb brushed across my breast, I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me and then a rumbling voice growled, “Play that again.”

  I knew that voice, had memorized its gritty quality, dreamt about it in my sleep, and it shouldn’t be here in Seattle. Heart pounding, I looked over my shoulder and found that my hearing wasn’t playing tricks on me. Max was standing behind me, dressed in a dark gray, double-breasted suit, crisp white shirt and a bold red tie. His hair still looked like he came straight from a salon, even though I knew he didn’t, and his beard was gone. Dammit, now I have to add Clean-shaven Max and GQ Max to my late night fantasies. He looked like Thor, God of Style, and the shock of seeing him at my work, dressed as if he’d just stepped off the New York fashion circuit no less, left me stunned and a little turned on.

  His eyes pinned mine as he clenched his jaw, but after the initial shock wore off, and his angry eyes registered, I panicked he’d make a scene. Standing quickly, I knocked over my chair and then stumbled in my haste to calm his temper.

  “You can’t be in here right now,” I whispered as I approached him.

  “He fuckin’ touched you, didn’t he?” Max asked as he ignored my attempts to show him to the door.

  “Max, you have to leave, please.”

  “Answer my fuckin’ question, Mia. Did Stetson touch you?” he growled again.

  “If I tell you, will you leave?” When he didn’t answer I sighed and nodded, “but I kneed him so it’s over, just let it go.”

  “A man violates any woman, let alone mine, he doesn’t get kneed in the nuts, he gets them ripped off,” he seethed.

  “Well, lucky for him I’m not your “woman” so his nuts are safe,” I countered.

  “Don’t kid yourself, you’ve been my woman since I pulled you out of the water,” he ground out.

  “Sorry? You must have me confused with Annie,” I bit back because really, this was beyond the pale. He can’t sleep with another woman and then come here beating his chest as if I was in the wrong.

  “Ms. Roberts, Mr. Hunter.”

  I whipped around and put my finger up to stall, though I had my doubts he’d actually leave.

  “Please excuse me for one moment while I escort this gentleman out. I apologize, this will only take a minute.”

  When I turned back, Max had moved from behind me and taken a seat at the table. I felt my job slipping away by the second as moisture welled in my eyes. Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, knowing the board was watching me, I set my shoulders to show I could handle pressure under fire. Then I moved towards Max, determined he would listen. When I opened my mouth to reason with him, Max pulled out the chair next him and ordered, “Sit and listen.”

  I ignored him of course.

  “You can’t be in here. Please leave so I can attempt damage control,” I begged.

  “Is this how it’s gonna be for the next fifty years? Me askin’ and you arguin’ about every fuckin’ thing?” he oddly asked.r />
  “I’m not— oomph.”

  “Do I have your attention now?” Max bit off after he tugged my arm and sat me down beside him.

  “I hate you,” I hissed, trying to move my chair far away from him.

  “You’ll get over it. Now be quiet and listen,” Max replied as he grabbed my chair and stopped me.

  Beyond pissed and close to tears, I narrowed my eyes, gave him my best glare, but he just smiled that damn smile of his then looked up and asked, “Which one of you is Springer?”

  “That’s me Mr. Hunter. I’m glad you could make the meeting after all.”

  “Do we have a deal?” Max asked and Springer turned once more to the board.

  “Deal, what deal? Do you know Springer?”

  “Nope.”

  “But he just thanked you for coming. Have you been talking to him?”

  Confused, I turned my attention back to the board. Of course, Max ignored this and continued our earlier discussion like my life’s work wasn’t on the line.

  “We’re gonna have a serious talk when this is over about you keepin’ shit from me,” he whispered in my ear.

  “I didn’t keep “shit” from you, I chose not to see you go to jail for manslaughter,” I defended under my breath.

  “We’re also gonna have a discussion about your fuckin’ list. Near as I can tell, there are no cons to a life with me.”

  “Oh, my God, she told you about the list?”

  “You think I flirt with you?” he chuckled.

  “I’m so gonna kill your mother,” I groaned completely mortified.

  “Well, Mr. Hunter,” Springer broke in, saving me from more humiliation. “Seems the board is unanimous in their decision, consider Ms. Roberts on loan to oversee the handling of your wildlife preserve. Mia, as of today, Mr. Hunter is your boss.

  “I’m sorry, say that again?” I asked confused.

  “Mr. Hunter has generously donated a portion of his land to the bears and allowing the institute access whenever we want. You’ll still be on our payroll, of course, but you’ll be heading up the transfer of the bears and settling them into their new habitat, then overseeing our continued research from Alaska.”