by DiAnn Mills
When Meghan entered the operation room, the two grabbed sandwiches and drinks before heading outside. This time they walked toward the front gate. Midway, he felt safe to relay his findings.
“What did you find out?” Meghan’s breathless question caused him to tingle.
Oh, he did have it bad for her. She occupied too many of his thoughts, caused him to think about things like permanence. A family. Kids. “Hair-raising stuff.”
“Ash, what did you find out about Erin Burnette?”
He studied her, noting the intelligence in her brown eyes. “With what Chip told us today, I strongly suspect she’s working with her father-in-law. But we need proof.”
“Tell me more.”
“Erin did her stint in the Marines. Sharpshooter in Afghanistan. Returned home about two years ago.”
“Where is she living?”
“Idaho. Elementary schoolteacher.”
“Most teachers take the summer off, and the extra hours provide an opportunity for other things.” He watched her ponder the information. He loved this woman’s mind.
“Can we find out if she has close friends?”
“That means someone needs to go there. Someone we can trust.”
She released a deep sigh. “Who? We have no clue who’s involved, and it’s not safe for Lindsay if either of us request any time off.”
He felt the same dead-end emotions. “We’re stuck here until we can find someone who’s willing to risk a sniper’s bullet.”
Chapter 59
Lindsay attempted to concentrate on the counseling session, but all she could think about was Meghan’s dangerous mission for the following night.
“You’ve made tremendous progress.” Dave’s words of praise were sincere. But unless Meghan and Ash could stop Burnette, more people would die. “What’s wrong? You should be glowing.”
“I’m working hard.” She hesitated, moistening her lips as though the wetness would help find the words to blanket the truth. “Getting back into the real world will be a strain on my sobriety.”
“You aren’t going back yet. We have lots of ground to cover first.”
She nodded. “My parents. My sister. Many things I haven’t told you.”
“You’ve never told me what you’re afraid of.” He studied her, as though he already knew the truth.
What if Dave worked for Burnette too? She trusted her counselor, and then she didn’t. Dave admitted her parents had interviewed him extensively. So had Burnette, which meant the demon had time to offer the psychologist a larger fee to follow his agenda.
“Lindsay, you can trust me.”
Could she? Maybe not. “I’m afraid of sinking back into the life that got me into this mess.” That much was true.
“We’ll keep talking about the tools to help you. When you’re released, we can meet every day. But you’ll have to do your part.”
She needed to tell him some of the truth, the reality of a recovering addict. “I know to stay away from old friends and make new ones. Avoid party situations and find other productive means of filling my time.”
“That’s a textbook answer, but it’ll do for now. You’ve already discovered new interests.”
“They aren’t new, just covered up.”
“Your parents are churchgoers. What do you think?”
“Faith is something I’ve not found credible.”
“I don’t either, but others find belief in a deity comforting, reassuring.”
Chip believed in God, and they’d discussed what it meant to follow Christ. She’d look into the whole thing more for him than her parents. Sad, but admittedly true.
Sometimes she hated that others took care of her while she floated from one scheduled event to another.
“Who found you, Dave? My parents or Uncle Scottard?”
“The president and First Lady. Your uncle wanted another psychologist.”
Hope crept inside. “How did my parents interview you?”
He laughed. “They must have had a hundred questions, and a copy of every case I’d treated.”
“And what is your success rate in helping addicts stay clean?”
He sat back, obviously surprised at her question. “75 percent.”
“How many fell under the category of coke and alcohol?”
He hesitated. “Both addictions? About 30 percent.”
“I’m a tough one. Do you think I can make it?”
“When it comes to the bottom line, it’s all up to you. However, you understand the process.”
She nodded. Now to move on, to have something to report to Meghan and Ash. “What did Uncle Scottard have to say?”
Dave rubbed his hands. “He wanted to know how much freedom you’d have on the ranch. If I permitted you to take long walks alone, like a stroll through the stables or along the creek.”
“What did you tell him?”
He smiled. “You’re asking strange questions today. I told him walks were encouraged, but you had to be accompanied by an agent. The only time an agent might not be present was during intense counseling. Even then I assumed one would be close by.”
Lindsay touched his arm. “Thank you, Dave. You’ve always been honest with me, and I appreciate it. The future looks better for me than the past, but every day will be hard if I’m to conquer the drugs.”
She hoped the future held promise. Thinking otherwise could drive her back to old habits.
Chapter 60
Friday night, Meghan put the finishing touches on her makeup—a few more layers and colors than she normally applied. Actually, a lot more. She took a long, admiring look at her reflection. Her budget didn’t include these name brands, and she’d never owned clothes this expensive. But she liked the green knit top, sleek-fitting jeans, boots, and jewelry. Blinking, she added eyedrops to the blue contacts.
Picking up the highlighted blonde wig, she slipped it into a Walmart bag and positioned her SIG into the back of her jeans. If a cowboy wanted to dance, she’d have to refuse. Excitement brewed right below the surface of caution. Tonight’s rendezvous had the potential to end Burnette’s power play.
Lindsay planned to stay in her room tonight, which made Victor’s job easier, since Ash had asked him to work a double. Victor Lee possessed all the outward traits of a loyal agent. For that matter, so did Bob. Heaven help them if either man had thrown in with Burnette.
Ash planned to follow her to the Silver Spur. The problem was Chip. He thought he was accompanying Lindsay to the bar. But she and Ash had worked out that hitch.
Let the games begin. Meghan opened her bedroom door. She walked to the stairway that led to the family room, where Bob, Victor, and Rick played cards with Carla.
Carla saw her first. “Where are you going?”
“Out for a little while.”
Bob startled. “Does Ash know?”
“He’s about to.”
Victor whistled. “Looks like you have a date.”
“I do.”
“With who?” Bob clenched his jaw. So he was loyal to Ash.
“Chip.”
Victor slowly nodded. “I see what you’re doing. Good luck.”
Bob rubbed his jaw. “Be careful, Meghan.”
“I will.”
“You look real good.” Victor walked her to the door. “Ash does know, doesn’t he?”
“Maybe.” She understood Victor and Bob could be dealing her a deadly hand.
Outside Ash was nowhere in sight. At the garage, she opened the door and groped around in the dark until she found the Mustang. If Chip had kept his word to Lindsay, he’d be waiting inside. The moment the light from the car door illuminated his features, Chip stepped out.
“What’s this all about?” Anger creased his features.
Meghan slid onto the seat and shut the door. “Don’t blame Lindsay. She’s only trying to help us find Wade’s killer. She’s upset about deceiving you.”
“And you still think it’s me?”
“If I did, I
wouldn’t allow you to spend so much time with her. I need transportation to the Silver Spur.”
“Why didn’t you ask?”
“Would you have agreed?”
Silence ruled for several seconds. “So you want a ride. That’s it?”
“Yes.”
He got back into the car.
“Thanks, Chip. We want Wade’s murder solved and the stalker found who’s been threatening Lindsay. I’d like to think it might happen tonight.”
“I feel like I’m living in a nightmare.”
He backed the car out and headed to the road, where an agent manned the gate. Chip rolled down his window, and the agent peered inside.
“Evenin’, Agent Connors, Chip.”
“Hey, we’ll be back later.” She flashed him a smile.
Once they were on the road, she pulled the wig from the bag and positioned it in place.
“You’re impersonating Lindsay.” His words were flat. “Setting somebody up?”
“I am. I have another favor.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“I need your car. Ash will pick you up in a few minutes.”
“Oh, why not. Never thought I’d be in a mess like this.”
“I hope you’re not involved.”
“The only thing I’m guilty of is falling for a girl with history—including addictions.”
She hoped he didn’t live to regret losing his heart. “For what it’s worth, I think she really likes you.” Her cell rang, and she snatched it up while noting the headlights in the side mirror.
“I’m right behind you,” Ash said.
“We’ll pull over at the next crossroad.” She glanced at Chip, and he nodded.
“Do you have the bug?”
Annoyance swept through her. “I’m an agent, Ash.”
“All right. Have to check on my girl.”
She grinned despite her irritation. “Are you trying to defuse me?”
“Worked, didn’t it?”
The Mustang stopped, and Chip unbuckled his seat belt. “Be careful.”
“I will. Thanks.” She exited the car and rounded to the driver’s side, while Chip got into Burnette’s truck with Ash. How ironic that Burnette was helping them nail his own coffin.
Ash noted Chip’s stiffened body. The man had more than one reason to be angry. Yet in the past few days, Ash had changed his mind about him. He sensed a good man, one who’d not participate in a murder. Time to get closer and see what happened.
“I can’t apologize for doing my job.” He chose to reveal more information. “What would you do if you were committed to protecting Lindsay’s life?”
Chip sighed. “I’d do whatever it took to make sure she was safe.”
“Now you know where Meghan and I stand.”
“I could use more honesty. I’m not, nor have I ever been, the bad guy.”
“I’m banking on those words.” Ash wanted to dig deeper about Ethan, a suspicion that refused to let go. “Did your dad have a heart condition?”
“No. His checkups were always good. No elevated blood pressure. Cholesterol levels fell within the norms, and heart disease isn’t in our family. My grandpa lived to be ninety-eight.” He stared out into the dark night. “I don’t know why the doctor didn’t detect a heart problem. I thought about an autopsy, but I was grieving and angry at the time.”
The nibbling at Ash’s mind continued. “How well did your dad know the vice president?”
“They were good friends, and Mr. Burnette trusted him with his prize animals. Dad knew him long before I did.”
“Before his son committed suicide?”
“Before Kyle was born.”
“Do you know if your dad and the vice president talked about his son’s death?”
“I’m sure of it. Mr. Burnette spent a couple of months at the ranch afterward. Dad said he shed buckets of tears.”
“Did the VP spend much time here later on?”
“Yes. His wife left him during the trial, and he preferred the solitude of the ranch. What are you driving at?”
The idea Ethan had been murdered pounded at his brain. “Chip, I’d like to have an autopsy done on your dad.”
Chip’s gaze flew to Ash. “Why? Do you think one of the agents had something to do with Dad’s death? Wade’s murder? Lindsay’s stalking?”
“I don’t know, but I’d sure like to find out. Chip, you’re a smart man. You could be working against us, but I don’t think so.”
“Do you need blood to prove it?” Bitterness dripped from his tongue.
“Let’s hope not. Do you play chess?”
“A little. Dad and I used to bring out the board now and then. Why?”
“I’m just wondering if you’re a pawn. Now I need to know the rest of the players.” Ash pulled up next to a fence line at the Dancin’ Dust. “Once you jump the fence, an agent will escort you back home.”
“All right. Get the autopsy done. I want to know how my dad died.”
Chapter 61
Meghan sensed excitement kicking into gear when the flashing lights of the Silver Spur came into view. Trucks, motorcycles, and a few cars filled the parking lot, and the moment she opened the car door, honky-tonk music met her ears. She’d added a few miles since she’d been to a smoky dive. This time she wasn’t searching for Shelley.
A curved bar swung to her left, crowded with cowboys and cowgirls who mingled at tables and perched on bar stools. A live band tuned their instruments. The lead singer held a fiddle, two men played guitars, and a woman sat at the drums. Two overhead beams spotlighted the scuffed wooden dance floor. Her gaze swept the place, wondering if her blind date watched her. An empty stool looked like the best place to wait.
She ordered a Sprite and observed the goings-on. The band hit a two-step and couples moved to the dance floor. She declined an offer . . . and observed.
A broad-shouldered man, typical of the jean-clad crowd, stood beside her. “The band’s better than usual.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“That’s because you haven’t been here before.”
Good. “Do you always notice the first-timers?”
“Only the pretty ones.” He leaned on the bar beside her. “You’re drinking Sprite?”
“I am.” She studied his face. Good-looking. Scruffy beard. Too much cheap cologne.
“Don’t you want to loosen up?”
“I’m plenty loose right now.”
“Wanna dance?”
“I’m waiting on someone.”
“Lucky man.”
“I’ll decide later.”
He straightened. “If he doesn’t show, I’ll be close by. Don’t wait too long. I have my regulars.”
This wasn’t the right guy.
By midnight, four cowboys had asked her to dance, and two had bought her another Sprite. She headed to the ladies’ room and then to the car. A couple leaned against a truck and kissed. Two guys smoked and laughed. Looked like all the action was inside, but none of what she hoped to find. Ash sat parked at the rear of the parking lot. What a wasted night, and he’d spent a ton on her clothes. Maybe when Lindsay’s stalker had been found, he’d take her two-steppin’, and she’d show him how the West was really won.
She started the Mustang and let the air conditioning cool her discontent before she phoned Ash. “Sorry. Our guy didn’t show.”
“We took a chance. No big deal.”
Except what Ash had spent on clothes. “Do you think he got tipped off?”
“Who knows? Could be someone at the ranch figured us out.”
“What do you think about Chip?”
“Either he’s a good impersonator, or he’s legit. Look, you drive on back. I’m going to hang around a little while. See if anyone follows you.”
“I’ll pay you for these clothes.”
“Would you stop that? I think it was worth the view.”
She laughed and pulled out of the parking lot, spitting gravel and spinning tir
es. Hmm. She wondered what Chip’s Mustang would do on the open road. Four miles later, she noted headlights barreling behind her. Easing over, she hoped he wasn’t a drunk. When he didn’t pass, she sped up. So did the truck.
“Ash, I got a pickup on my rear. He’s doing seventy.”
“I’m on my way. No one left here.”
Meghan pressed the accelerator past seventy-five. “He’s doing eighty.”
“I don’t like this. I’m hurrying.”
If the driver meant to eliminate her, he’d be firing shots. Ahead she spotted a short bridge. No point alarming Ash. She urged the Mustang faster and approached the bridge. The truck stayed on her tail. So he had a game plan. Lord, I could use a little help here. The truck slammed into her as she entered the bridge. She struggled to keep the car on the road. The truck pounded her, like a fire-breathing monster that refused to give up, causing the Mustang to crash into the concrete bridge. The car flipped, sending it midair and into blackness.
Ash heard sounds of a crash. He pressed the accelerator to the floorboard, hoping she’d not been hurt.
“Meghan! What’s going on?” When he didn’t hear a response, he called for her again.
Racing down the road, he looked for taillights to gauge what had happened to the Mustang. He neared the bridge. About fifteen feet of the concrete embankment had crumbled. Slamming on his brakes, he swerved the truck onto the right side of the bridge just past the impact. Grabbing his flashlight and SIG, he slid down the hill. The Mustang lay wheels up in a dry creek bed.
He snapped open his phone. “Victor, someone ran Meghan off the road. The car flipped off a bridge. Call an ambulance. We’re about four miles west of the ranch. Stay where you are. This could be a ploy to nab Lindsay.” Snapping it shut, he made his way to the driver’s side.
Not on my watch. Not on my watch. Not Meghan.
The flashlight illuminated her body slumped over the steering wheel. Blood trickled down her face. “Meghan, are you all right?”
He yanked on the car door, but it wouldn’t budge. Hurrying to the other side, he kicked in the window and opened the door.