Into Dust

by B. J Daniels

  He stared at the passports, not realizing at first what was bothering him about them. They were also all for his father. None for his mother, who would have been alive at the time. None for Jack. Apparently, his father hadn’t been planning to take either of them with him when he skipped the country.

  Sickened, he put everything back into the box and started to shut it, when he realized what he was doing. “I’m going to need your bag.” He’d picked up a quilted bag for her at the used-clothing store yesterday. The clerk had said it was a Mondo bag, whatever that was. All he’d known was that it was large and went with the Bohemian look he’d chosen for Cassidy.

  “You sure this is a good idea?” she asked, sounding scared as she took her designer purse out of the bag and handed it to him. “I mean, when your father finds out all this is gone...”

  Jack knew she was right. But he figured his father was already losing his mind over the missing metal box with his past in it.

  “He’s already looking for us. This is our bargaining chip. He’ll want this back,” he said as he began to dump the contents of the safe-deposit box into the large quilted bag. He stopped to look at her. “This is good news. We have something we can use to negotiate.”

  She didn’t look convinced and he couldn’t blame her. It was either daring or suicidal. If they got caught with the contents on them, it would be for naught. Which meant he had to find a place to hide the stash before his father or Ed caught up with them.

  He emptied the box and closed the lid. His father didn’t have a key to the box now. By the time he was able to get another one... He realized that the man might not even bother. He would know that Jack had taken everything.

  Jack swallowed. If things went badly, he and Cassidy would be dead. All he could hope was that they could stay one step ahead until... Until what? It would help if he knew why his father had wanted to abduct Cassidy.

  * * *

  CASSIDY REALIZED SHE was shaking. “I don’t understand what’s going on,” she said as she watched Jack put the safe-deposit box back and reach for the filled-to-overflowing quilted bag. “We’re just going to walk out of here with all that?”

  “With luck, we are.” He glanced at his watch.

  She could tell he was anxious to get out of the bank. Was he worried that his father would have realized they’d hit the bank this morning? Was that Ed person already out there waiting for them?

  Cassidy felt tears burn her eyes. Her life as Senator Buckmaster Hamilton’s daughter hadn’t prepared her for this. Nothing had. She’d always been coddled, pampered, treated like rare crystal. Now someone was trying to abduct her, maybe even kill her.

  “It’s all right,” Jack said, quickly moving to her as if seeing how close she was to breaking down. He put down the bag and pulled her into his arms. She pressed her cheek against his strong chest and breathed in the male scent of him. “I’m going to do everything possible to keep you safe.” He drew back to meet her eyes. “You believe that, don’t you?”

  She looked into his handsome face. As her gaze locked with his, she felt as if she were diving headlong into a Caribbean sea. A feeling of warmth spread over her. Still wired on fear and lack of sleep, she closed her eyes and sighed, resting against his warm, hard body. She could feel the thunder of his heart against her own pounding chest.

  He touched her cheek with his large hand, lifting her face to look down into her eyes. She heard his sharp intake of breath. A shiver tap-danced up her spine as he lowered his head, brushing his lips tentatively over hers. And then his lips were on hers, parting them, drawing out a ragged breath from her as he deepened the kiss. She clung to him, lost in the feel of his mouth on hers, his body molded to hers.

  The door opened behind them. Startled, they jerked apart as the clerk came in with another safe-deposit key and another bank customer.

  “We’re finished,” Jack told the clerk. Jack had put down Cassidy’s bag, but quickly picked it up from the floor and whispered, “Let’s get out of here,” his voice rough with emotion.

  As the bank clerk and the customer disappeared into the maze of the expansive vault, Jack started to push open the door to leave. Cassidy touched his arm and whispered, “What if they’re waiting out there for us?”

  “They aren’t going to try anything in public. Once we reach the car, I’ll have my gun.” His hand on the doorknob, he seemed to be waiting for her to ask more questions.

  “Then there is nothing to worry about,” she said, her voice cracking.

  He smiled at that before reaching to brush a lock of her now-dark hair back from her forehead. “Nothing to worry about at all,” he said. And taking her hand, they walked through the bank toward the exit.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  IT WAS EARLY enough that Ed managed to get a parking spot across the street from the bank. He’d recognized Jack’s ranch pickup the moment he’d seen it.

  Durand had been right. Jack was at the bank. But was the young woman with him? Ed could only hope.

  He waited patiently, angry with himself. He’d done other jobs for Durand, but none as demanding as this one. Before, he hadn’t given a moment’s thought to roughing up competitors or even taking a few out in the gulf for a concrete-shoe dip in the middle of the night.

  But this was different. This was some nice-looking young woman. This was Durand’s son. Ed didn’t like anything about this. It made him nervous, not a good sign. Nor was he getting paid enough if he was going to have to take out the two of them.

  He was sweating even with the air conditioner blasting when he saw Jack come out of the bank, the girl with him. Jack was carrying what looked like a large purse. Whatever was in it, it looked heavy.

  Durand wasn’t going to like this, he thought as he watched the two cross to Jack’s pickup. They looked nervous. They should have been.

  The girl climbed in as Jack lifted the heavy bag behind the seat and then went around to slide behind the wheel.

  When Jack pulled out into the growing traffic, Ed let a couple of cars go by before he followed. All his instincts told him this wasn’t going to end well.

  * * *

  JACK GLANCED OVER at Cassidy. She was watching the side mirror as if she couldn’t believe they’d gotten away from the bank without being confronted.

  He couldn’t either. She touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip for a moment and he saw her smile. Was she thinking about the kiss? He couldn’t get it off his mind. It had felt so...natural. And yet, it had shocked him by the intensity of it.

  A car honked, making him jump and reminding him he needed to get his head back where it belonged. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he caught sight of a green car behind them and swore under his breath.

  “What?” Cassidy demanded, turning to look behind them. “Are we being followed?”

  “I can’t tell. There’s too much traffic. So I’m going to assume we are. Hang on,” he said and sped up, running a red light to the blare of horns and barely missing a bread truck that was pulling out.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as he hung a right, then a left, then got caught in traffic at a light.

  He had no idea where to go or how many people might be looking for them at this moment. Maybe his father had hired more than Ed and his goons. It still felt unreal. He was being hunted by his own father?

  “We need to hide what’s in your bag and then get out of Dodge,” Jack said as he stared into his rearview mirror. Would Ed still be driving his green car? Or would he have picked up another vehicle that Jack wouldn’t recognize?

  He hadn’t seen any cars that seemed to be following them, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Ed or someone else his father had hired had followed them from the bank.

  The traffic finally began to move and he hung another right.

  “I want to go to Montana,�
� Cassidy said, determination in her voice. “I have to confront my mother.” He started to mention how dangerous that could be, but she cut him off. “I can’t just wait for these people to find me.”

  “Confronting your mother, though, doesn’t that seem like a bad idea?”

  She turned to meet his gaze. “You have a better idea?”

  He didn’t. He hadn’t gotten any further than staying out of Ed Urdahl’s sights and possibly trying to make a deal with his father. Neither of his ideas were worth mentioning. Ed would continue to look for them. As for trusting that his father would keep his end of any bargain—

  “My father owns a large ranch outside of Big Timber, Montana.”

  “Cassidy—”

  “I’m not suggesting going to the main house or letting my family know I’m in Montana, but there are houses hired hands use during calving and roundup that came with property my father has acquired. No one would know we were there. I was thinking of one in particular... We can stay there until we can confront my mother.”

  He glanced over at her as the traffic stopped again. There was a stubborn set to her jaw and a look in her eyes that told him her mind was made up. “But we can’t get on a plane with all that money even if my father didn’t have men watching the airports.”

  “We could take a private jet,” she said.

  “A private jet?” The light changed. The car behind him honked, startling him. He hurriedly stepped on the gas and took another right turn and then a left as they moved away from the downtown area. “I’m afraid I don’t have a private jet.” He’d been a rich kid by most people’s standards, but he didn’t even have friends who had their own jets.

  “I could call my friend Evan.”

  She knew someone with his own jet? Of course she did.

  * * *

  “I HAVE TO take care of some things at my campaign office in Helena,” Buckmaster said early the next morning after Sarah had made him breakfast. He almost choked on the lie. He hadn’t been able to sleep last night. Just the thought of that damned tie that smelled like spearmint had kept him awake.

  “I thought you were staying here longer,” she said, looking at him in surprise. “We really need to talk about this decision you’ve made. I heard you on the phone this morning. It’s too quick. It’s wrong. Please—”

  “That’s one reason I’m going to the capital. I need to talk to my staff in Helena and see what kind of repercussions this might have on the party.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?” she asked.

  “No, it would be too boring for you and I need to do some thinking on the drive. I promised Jerrod I wouldn’t announce anything for forty-eight hours.”

  She seemed to relax, which confused him even more. He’d thought she would be happy about him quitting the race. But then again, he hadn’t expected to find another man’s tie in her house either.

  “I’ll be back this evening,” he said. “We can talk then.” All his instincts told him that starting an engagement by lying was bound to jinx the marriage.

  The thought almost made him laugh. Nothing about his relationship with Sarah had been normal since the night she’d driven her car into the Yellowstone River and let him believe she was dead for twenty-two years.

  It was clear that she wasn’t exactly being honest with him. Not that he’d asked about the tie. He’d been riddled with doubts for too long. Wasn’t that why seeing the tie had felt like the last straw?

  And he wasn’t the only one with doubts about Sarah, he reminded himself. The sheriff thought she was dangerous and questioned why she’d come back when she had.

  Buck kept telling himself that the Sarah who had come back to him was the same woman he married. But not even he believed that.

  It was her timing. She’d reappeared in his life right when he was ready to run for president. Why then? The sheriff had his own theories, one of them involving Sarah killing him apparently.

  He pushed that thought away as he kissed her goodbye and drove down the dirt road from the farmhouse. Jerrod had taken his quitting better than he’d expected. No doubt his campaign manager had been expecting it. Buckmaster still had mixed feelings about his decision. But after finding that tie in Sarah’s kitchen...

  Looking in his rearview mirror, he could still see the farmhouse in the distance as he drove down the road. He dropped over a hill and then took an old logging road up into the pines. He hadn’t gone far when he parked, got out and, taking the binoculars he kept in his glove box, walked the rest of the way up the hill.

  A cold wind blew out of the Crazies. It whipped his clothing, making him aware of the fact that he was still in one of his good suits. He could drive down to his ranch and change, but he didn’t want to take the time. Nor could he chance that he might miss something.

  From the top of the hill, he had a good view of the farmhouse through the pines, but Sarah—and whoever he expected visited her—wouldn’t be able to see him. He settled in to wait as long as it took, hating his suspicions and praying that he was wrong.

  It wasn’t forty-five minutes later when a car came up the road and turned into the yard. Buckmaster held his breath, his heart aching. He hated that he’d been right and cursed under his breath as a man climbed out.

  Lifting the binoculars, he focused on the figure walking toward the house. To his shock, the man was much older than himself. The man knocked once and opened the door as if it wasn’t his first time visiting Sarah. Before he closed the door, he looked out as if sensing he was being watched and Buckmaster got his first good look at the man’s face. It was Dr. Ralph Venable.

  He’d only seen the doctor in a photo that the sheriff had shown him. It had been a snapshot of Dr. Venable and Sarah taken in Brazil, where apparently Sarah had spent the twenty-two years she’d been believed dead.

  Why hadn’t Sarah told him that the doctor was back in the States? Not just back in the States, but was now more than a casual visitor?

  Or was Dr. Venable doing more than visiting her? Buckmaster thought about what Sheriff Curry had found out about the doctor. Venable had been experimenting with brain wiping. According to the sheriff, there was a good chance Sarah had called Dr. Venable that night after surviving the freezing river. So was it as the sheriff suspected? Was the doctor responsible for stealing Sarah’s memory?

  Then why would she let the man back into her life unless there was more to the story?

  * * *

  CASSIDY COULD STILL feel the effects of the kiss. A warmth coursed through her veins. She hugged herself. Not even her very first kiss had stirred such longing in her.

  She glanced over at Jack, studying the solid line of his stubbled jaw, the shape of his mouth, the tiny laugh lines around his blue eyes. Desire burned low in her belly. She quickly looked away. They were running for their lives. Was that why this need had felt so powerful?

  With regret, she worried that she would never get to kiss him again or find out because they would be killed before it could happen. She looked out at the passing city. They’d left the commercial area behind and now seemed to be in a deserted warehouse district. It reminded her of the one they’d broken into last night.

  Or at least she’d thought that had been what they’d done. Jack had lied. He’d known all the time that they were entering his father’s building. That the man after them was Tom Durand. But what Jack hadn’t known was the connection between his father and her mother. That had come as a shock to them both.

  A part of her didn’t want to believe it. Her mother was petite, waiflike. No one would believe she’d been some anarchist member of a group calling itself The Prophecy. Cassidy fought the urge to pull out the photograph she’d stuffed into her pocket.

  But why would her mother’s former partner in crime want to kidnap her daughter? She would ask when she confronted her mother.


  * * *

  SARAH STARED AT the engagement ring on her finger again. It wasn’t that long ago that another man’s ring had been there. Agreeing to marry Russell Murdock had been impulsive. She’d been heartbroken over Buck remarrying. Not that she blamed him since she had been gone twenty-two years. She couldn’t really expect him to stay single all that time—even though she had apparently.

  When Russell had asked her, Buck was still with Angelina. Sarah hadn’t seen any possible way she and Buck could ever be together again—not if he wanted to stay in the presidential race. If he had left Angelina, the scandal would have killed his chances.

  Angelina’s car accident and subsequent death had reopened a door Sarah had thought closed forever. Russell had understood why she’d broken off the engagement. She’d been honest with him from the start—she would always love Buck, the father of her six daughters.

  But she’d also loved Russell. She missed talking to him. He’d told her to call him if she ever saw Dr. Venable again. He’d predicted the doctor would come back into her life. He’d warned her to call him because he feared she would be in danger.

  What a laugh. She couldn’t bear to think what Russell would think of her if he knew that she was the one who was dangerous. She was the ringleader of The Prophecy with her lover, Joe Landon. She shuddered at the thought. Russell, like Buck, believed her to be someone she clearly was not. She could no more tell Russell the truth than she could tell Buck.

  “Having second thoughts?”

  She swung around to see Dr. Venable standing in the doorway. She hadn’t heard him come in. “Buck just left.”

  “I saw him leave about forty-five minutes ago.”

  So he’d been watching the house. Her irritation bumped up a notch. “Don’t you knock?”

  “I did. I saw you through the window,” he said as he moved to her. “You seemed to be lost in your own world.” His gaze went to her left hand as she brushed back a lock of her blond hair.