by Grace Walton
Maggie looked hopefully at the old man holding her breath. Surely Chase wasn’t dead, she thought. Surely there was a chance he’d make it? She didn’t want his poor parents to lose their son. No matter how badly he’d treated her, he still needed an opportunity to make his peace with God. The outcome otherwise would be tragic.
Doc Fuller looked over at the nervous girl with a speculative glance. He studied her for a minute or two. Then he turned his rheumy old eyes to the tall man standing behind her.
Hollister saw the truth in them. It was nothing more than what he’d been expecting. Chase Brown was dead.
“Maggie, why don’t you go to bed?” he said casually. “I know you’re cold. You should try and get some rest. It’s going to be a long night. Let Doc Fuller and I sit up with Chase,” he coaxed. “There’s nothing you can do for him that we can’t see to.”
The girl looked over at the vet. The old man stared steadily back. She couldn’t read his face. He looked as old as time itself.
“I could stay up,” she said trying to be helpful. “We could take turns sitting with him.”
The vet shook his head. “There’s no need for that, Miss Ferguson. I’ve got a nice guest room. The sheets might be a little musty, but it’ll be warm and private for you under a couple of my wife’s old quilts. Let me get you settled, then I’ll come back here and keep Hollister company.”
A sudden weariness flooded through her body. Maggie had to admit, she was tired right down to her cold and shivering bones. A warm bed sounded wonderful. So without further argument, she nodded her head.
“I would love to use your guest room.”
‘Well, come on down the hall and I’ll show you where everything is. I might even be able to rustle you up a warm flannel nightgown. My wife was partial to those in the winter,” he said with gentle humor.
Hollister watched them go. As soon as Maggie was out of sight, he draped the afghan that was on the sofa over the body. They’d need to get it outside into the freezing barn if help didn’t reach them soon. But for now, he’d wait until the vet got back and get his opinion. He didn’t need to wait very long.
The old man shuffled back into the living room of the ranch house. He came to stand over Brown. He shook his head.
“It’s a shame a boy so young had to pass like he did,” he mused aloud. “You say he just got out of prison? He’s the one that hurt that little girl I just put to bed, isn’t he? Chase Brown?”
Hollister’s nod was curt. “He did. I think he was addicted to something there and was going through withdrawal. She said he acted disoriented before he passed out.”
Doc Fuller tssked under his breath. “I know his folks. This is gonna hit them hard. They been trying to keep their ranch going without him for a long time. They really went into the hole hiring all those fancy city lawyers trying to get him off. Course it didn’t do no good. He was as guilty as sin. A body just had to look at that poor girl, all bruised up and broken, to know he went at her like a bull. But he was their son. And you know how folks are. They never believe their kids can do no wrong. I don’t know what the Browns will do now.”
“He was stalking her again,” Hollister said through stiff lips. “It was just chance that he met her on the road when her car went in the ditch tonight. But he boasted about what he was going to do to her.”
“She tell you that?”
“Yeah,” Hollister said knowing what was coming.
“Guess it’ll be her word alone then,” Fuller mused as he scratched at a tuft of white hair on his head.
“Shouldn’t matter,” the big man said. “He died as a result of his own addiction, not from anything she did.”
The old man nodded. “Course, there’ll be an inquest. And an autopsy. I’m not too concerned about how that will all fall out. What gets me is that sweet little gal is going to have her name drug through the mud again. She don’t deserve that.”
“What should we do with the body?” Hollister asked.
Just leave it be,” the old man answered. “My wind-up weather radio says the storm will break by midnight. And the road crews will have the man roads cleared by morning. I suspect we can flag one of the trucks down and tell them to send the coroner out.”
“I’ll stay with the body,” the younger man said. “There’s no need for you to lose a night’s sleep too.”
The old man didn’t move. “Is she yours?”
“I want her to be,” Hollister answered truthfully.
“Then we both need to sit up with this boy. Because, I wouldn’t put it past the Browns to try to make out like this is a homicide. They’ll try to pin this on you or on her.”
Hollister hadn’t even thought of that. If the parents of Chase Brown were vindictive enough, or if they scented a big payout from Gage Ferguson, the local billionaire, they just might do as Doc Fuller feared. And if word ever got out about his own wealth, things could get even more convoluted.
“It’s a longshot, but they might.” Hollister agreed.
The elderly man eased himself down into the ratty recliner. “If Chase shot up recently, they could claim it was an intentional overdose administered by Miss Ferguson. She certainly had motive. If he got ahold of some bad stuff, it could look like she was a shifty drug dealer trying to off him. If it is just a really horrible, abrupt detox death, and I’m sure that’s what this is, it could be said you and she didn’t give him sufficient aid. Who knows?” he shrugged his narrow shoulders. “These days the criminal justice system is so screwy, anything could happen.”
Now that Hollister thought about it, the old man was probably right. Maggie was going to need an alibi. Even with her car wrecked in a ditch, she’d need someone to vouch for her. Someone to tell exactly what had happened. His jaw set. His hands clenched into fists. He was her only hope
Chapter Twelve
“Like I was saying…” the old man’s voice was cut off by a furious pounding on the door of the ranch house. “Who in the world could that be?” Doc Fuller said grumbling all the way to the door. “Nobody in their right mind should be out on a night like this. It just goes to show you, a man don’t know exactly what’s going on these days.”
Hollister knew exactly who was out there. Gage Ferguson and a contingent of the men from Montana Miracles had tracked them down. It was what they did. And they were very good at it. The weather conditions notwithstanding, he knew from experience nothing would stop them. He’d trained them. So, if they let a little thing like a blizzard and double digit below zero temperatures get in their way, he’d have a word with them.
So he wasn’t surprised to catch Gage’s stern eyes looking over the old vet’s white head directly into his own, as soon as the door was pulled open.
“What do you want?” Fuller asked in a cranky voice.
It was obvious he was tired of having company. And he was irritated with the fact that they were all showing up at his doorstep in the middle of the night. And the dead body on his wife’s couch was not exactly a mood lifter.
“I’m here for my sister?” Gage said.
His voice was low and deep. His Stetson was pulled down as far as it would go. His long rangy body was dressed in old jeans, battered boots, and an enormous sheepskin jacket that went almost to his knees. He wore heavy gloves. He looked dangerous. And he looked tired.
Behind him guarding his back, ranged a cohort of the men from Montana Miracles. All of them seasoned warriors. All of them were good at what they did. Each one, to a man, was lethal in his own particular way.
“You Ferguson?” the vet asked. The way he squinted up at the man proved his eyesight was failing him, along with his back.
“I am,” Gage said as he shouldered his way into the small warm house.
His men followed him in, without waiting for an invitation. Suddenly the place seemed too small. The snow they tracked in immediately melted into puddles at their boots. A trail of vapor steamed off a few of the heavy jackets that had been hard frozen.
N
o one said anything. But Hollister knew Gage and his men each did a quick scan of the room for enemies. And they’d each made note of the body lying covered on the couch.
Finally Gage spoke,” That Brown?” he jerked his chin towards body.
“Yep,” said Doc Fuller. “How’d you know?’
“We saw his truck back at Hollister’s place.”
“And you tracked the sleigh?”
“Yeah.”
“Well,” Fuller said as he nodded his head. “You might as well sit down. Your poor little sister’s fast asleep by now. And there’s nothing you can do for that poor soul.” He pointed a shaky, withered finger towards the body. “You boys want some coffee?”
“That’d be good,” Gage said to the old man. He might be speaking to the retired vet. But his granite hard eyes never left Hollister.
“I’ll go make us a pot on the woodstove. The electric might go out, but a wood stove will work as long as you’ve got kindling. Come on, I’ll fix us up. I might even make up a batch of Texas red beans and meat are good for what ails you.”
“Go with him,” Gage ordered the men.
With no complaint or argument, they all followed the old man into his kitchen. When they were out of earshot, Gage turned to his business partner.
“You kill him?”
“No.”
“Pity.”
“Yeah.”
“She OK?”
“She doesn’t know he’s dead.”
Gage nodded. “Did she do it?”
“No, though she had plenty of cause.”
Gage cursed long and low under his breath. “What happened?”
“She ran her car into a ditch. He found her. He wanted to finish what he started before he was sent to jail.”
Gage’s face became a hard, cold mask. “I wish I’d arranged an accident for him a long time ago.”
“I do too,” Hollister nodded.
“But once my life changed,” Gage said then he shrugged. “I just couldn’t do it.”
“Religion,” Hollister mocked. “Makes a man soft.”
Gage shook his head. “Makes a man strong. Strong enough to walk away.”
“I get that. What I don’t understand is how you let her out on roads by herself tonight.”
“I don’t let Maggie do anything, Hollister. She’s a grown woman. She makes her own decisions.”
“Why didn’t you stop her?”
“She got to her car before any of the men could offer to give her a ride.”
“Was there some kind of emergency?”
“In her mind, yes, or so I’ve been told.”
“I saw her not an hour before she wrecked her car. She was fine before I left.”
Gage rolled his shoulders and snorted in frustration. “You’re as dumb as a bag of hammers, aren’t you?”
“What?” Hollister was perplexed.
“You’re the emergency that sent her out into the teeth of a blizzard.”
“What?” He was stunned. “No, she was mad at me when I left. I know that for a fact. Seems like she stays mad at me these days. No way would she have harried off into a blinding snowstorm just to have the last word with me. She’s stubborn, but she’s not stupid.”
Of course Gage latched onto the most incriminating thing his friend said. “Why is she mad at you?”
Hollister frowned. “That’s none of your business.”
“Everything about Maggie is my business. I warned you to stay away from her.”
“I remember,” Hollister said acerbically. “And I’m trying. It’s just… it’s just she…”
“She what?”
The other scowled. When he began speaking again, his voice had taken on the crisp, hard accents of a British lord. It was a sign of the amount of stress he was under. Hollister never dropped a cover, never.
“She’s driving me crazy,” he muttered.
Gage chuckled. “Join the club, bud.”
Hollister held up a fist. “Stop now before I hurt you.”
Gage held up his hands at chest level in surrender. “Hey, back off, I’m a pacifist.”
This time Hollister snorted in derision. “Since when?”
“Since I married the love of my life.”
“See, you’ve gone soft.”
“So if you didn’t send Brown into Hell and neither did Maggie, what happened?”
“He expired from a particularly bad withdrawal from street drugs. He told Maggie he’d become addicted in prison. My money says he’s been dabbling with pharmaceuticals since he was a kid.” Hollister shrugged. “I guess karma caught up with him.”
Gage shook his head. “I don’t believe in karma. But I do believe in justice. And I think God evened the scales between Chase Brown and Maggie tonight.”
“Maybe,” Hollister said. “Whatever or whoever brought this on Brown, I can’t say I’m sorry.”
“Neither can I,” Gage answered. “But this might complicate Maggie’s life.”
“That’s what Doc Fuller believes. But I’m a witness to the death. And I’m not above padding out my testimony.”
Gage shook his head. “As much as I love my sister, I know lying will not save her.”
Hollister cocked his head to one side. It was as if he was trying to understand the new normal with his friend. It was true Gage and Carrie had been married for a number of years now. But it seemed Gage’s transformation was ongoing. He wasn’t sure how he felt about all that. Now Gage was an honest man. He was a man of faith. He was so different from the man he’d been the first time Hollister had met him in a South American jungle.
In those days, both of them had been little more than paid mercenaries. They’d lived hard and fast. And they’d partied the same way. Gage ran through women at an alarming rate. He’d almost been just as much of a Casanova as had Hollister.
Then everything changed. Gage Ferguson found God. He’d still been a hardened seasoned warrior. But after his conversion he was more interested in ending wars than in starting them. That’s when Montana Miracles had been born. Ever since, they’d changed their joint business venture from a hired army into a search and rescue operation.
Hollister hadn’t cared. If the money was good, he’d save people instead of kill them. It was all about the cash. He had sisters and a failing farm to support. The lucrative rescue business had fueled his growing fortune. But now he was puzzled at his friend’s reticence.
As for himself, he’d do whatever it took to make sure nothing ugly touched Maggie. He’d lie, cheat, steal, bleed, and die, if need be. How could Gage feel any different?
“Fine, you take the high road,” he said harshly. “I’ll be the cleaner this time.”
“You still don’t understand,” Ferguson said.
“Yeah, I think I do,” Hollister replied with heat. “You’d rather hold onto your vaulted principles than make sure your sister isn’t ruined, again, by that animal.” He pointed to the body.
“No, this has nothing to do with principles,” his friend began to argue.
“Yeah, it does. I’ve seen this coming for a long time, Gage,” Hollister said. “I think it’s time we parted ways.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Ferguson asked stunned.
“No, I want out. I’ll buy your half of Montana Miracles.”
“No,” the man said. “No. I don’t want that. I see it as my mission in life. It’s what I was born to do. I can’t just turn it over to you.”
“See, that’s the problem with your kind. Everything has to be a Godly mission. It’s not a mission, Gage. It’s a business. A very lucrative business, one I want to continue. But I want to do so alone.”
“Hollister, no,”
“Yes,” he said. “I want to keep the business. But I want you out of it. I’m tired of dealing with the lot of you.”
“What?” Ferguson rocked back on the heels of his wet boots. “Wait, don’t leave,” he called to his friend’s broad back.
Hollister didn’t falter a s
tep as he made his way to the door. He grabbed his coat from a hook and shrugged into it. He jerked open the door. It was pitch black dark outside. Dawn was at least five hours away. Because of the raging storm, there was no moon nor were there stars to light the frozen landscape.
“Wait,” Gage pleaded.
This humility, it was something the big man had done only a few times in his entire life. Most of those times had involved his beloved wife, Carrie. But now he was willing to humble himself to his friend. He’d do anything to rectify this situation.
He was relieved when Hollister paused in the open doorway. Now, if he could just figure out what to say to him. He silently prayed and asked for wisdom.
“You know she’ll still try to come find you?” he said in as stoic a voice as he could manage.
“Not this time,” Hollister rasped out.
“Yeah, she will. She won’t be able to stay away. She’s afraid your PTSD will haunt you. She’s afraid you’ll hurt yourself.”
Hollister turned to fully face the other man. His eyes were ablaze with rage. “Who told her? Was it you?” He took a threatening step forward.
Gage backed up. Hollister in a fury was not a man to play with. He cleared his throat.
“You know I’d never do something like that. No, it wasn’t me.”
“Then who?”
Ferguson was loath to say. Because he knew, with a few words, he would most likely seal a man’s fate. And it wouldn’t be a good kind of happily-ever-after ending.
“If it wasn’t you, then who? You are the only one I told.”
Hollister’s hands were clenching and unclenching like he was trying to hold the beast within him at bay. A muscle ran back and forth along the length of his tight jaw. His eyes were narrowed to dangerous slits.
Ferguson knew he’d have to tell his friend the truth. There was no way around it. But he would need to somehow forestall the impending explosion when he did.
“There was some gossip at church,” he began.
“That’s impossible.”
Gage nodded. “I know. But I think maybe one of the cowhands overheard us talking. That’s the only way I can see that anyone would know about your PTSD.”