by B. J Daniels
“She could have mailed it to the FBI.”
Marc hadn’t thought of that. Probably because he was still caught up in his old belief that Rebecca wasn’t all that smart. “I don’t think she’d do that.”
Victor looked at him, aghast. “You don’t think so?”
“She’s just trying to use the ledger to get a divorce and custody of my kid.”
“Let me guess.” Victor didn’t look at him. Instead, he turned his glass in his hands as if admiring the cut crystal. “You refused to give her what she wanted.”
“She isn’t taking my kid.” The blow took him by surprise. The heavy crystal glass smashed into the side of his face, knocking him off his stool. The crystal shattered, prisms flying across the Italian rock flooring of the garden room an instant before Marc joined them.
Jumbo appeared, as if he had been waiting in the wings, expecting trouble. “You all right, Mr. Ramsey?”
Marc swore. Victor wasn’t the one on the floor surrounded by glass. As he rose, he saw Victor picking glass out of his hand. Jumbo rushed around the bar to get a rag.
“No harm done. Isn’t that right, Marc?” Victor said.
Blood was running down into his eye. He reached up and pulled a shard of glass from his temple.
“Get Marc a bandage to go with his other bandages, will you, Jumbo?” their boss said. “Sorry about that,” he said after Jumbo had left. “I seldom lose my temper.”
Marc said nothing. His head hurt like hell and this was the second time in twenty-four hours that he’d been cut. The blow had opened his other cut, and it, too, was now bleeding. First his wife had tried to kill him, now this.
Jumbo returned with a first aid kit. “Let him see to it,” Victor ordered when Marc tried to take the kit from the man. It was all he could do to sit still and let an oaf like Jumbo work on him. “Here, be sure there isn’t any glass in the cut first.” Victor handed the man a bottle of Scotch. “Pour some of the good stuff on it.”
Marc gritted his teeth as Jumbo shoved his head to the side and poured the alcohol into the wound. The Scotch ran into Rebecca’s handiwork as well, sending fiery pain roaring through him. He swore, the pain so intense he thought he might black out. Jumbo patted the spot on his temple dry with surprising tenderness before carefully applying something to stop the bleeding.
“There, all better,” Victor said. “Thank Jumbo. He did a great job.”
“Thanks, Jumbo,” Marc mumbled.
After Jumbo had cleaned up the mess and left, his boss refilled Marc’s glass and got himself a new one. “Now,” he said, “I don’t need to tell you what needs to be done, do I?”
“No. I’m going to get the ledger.” He knew better than to mention his son. Victor didn’t give a crap about Andy.
The man frowned. “The sister, is she going to be a problem?”
“Naw.” He tried to keep his gaze locked with Victor’s, but he broke away first even though he knew it was a mistake.
“The sister isn’t the only problem, is she? Who is this Texas deputy who got involved?”
Marc swore under his breath. It amazed him how Victor got his information and so quickly. He must have “associates” everywhere. The thought did nothing to make him feel better.
“I’ll take care of them.”
Victor shook his head. “You just get this...ledger you lost back. And what are you going to do with it?”
“Destroy it.”
Victor looked pained. “Wrong, you’re going to bring it to me. I’ll take care of it. There are no copies, right?”
“No, I’m not a fool.” From Victor’s expression, it was clear he thought differently. Marc should have been relieved. What Victor was saying was that they were finished. No more money. It was over. Their relationship was terminated.
Marc searched his emotions for the relief he should have been feeling. Instead, all he could think was that he would kill them. First Rebecca. Then her sister and the cowboy. “I’ll fix everything.”
Victor didn’t look convinced. “Just find the ledger. That’s all I ask.”
But Marc knew nothing in his life had ever been that simple. He downed his drink, stood up and left.
* * *
GILLIAN WENT TO her bedroom, but she doubted she would be able to sleep. Her mind was racing. She kept going over the few conversations she’d had with her sister in the months, weeks and days before all this.
What had Rebecca been thinking? Why hadn’t she taken the incriminating evidence to the police? Had she really thought Marc would just agree to a divorce?
No, she thought. That’s why Rebecca had hidden not only the ledger, but also her son.
As she pulled on a nightgown and climbed into bed, she was reminded that she wasn’t alone in the house. That should have given her more comfort than it did. She was very...aware of Austin Cardwell. It surprised her that she could feel anything, as exhausted and distraught as she was. Mostly, she felt...off balance.
She closed her eyes, praying for the oblivion of sleep.
“I might need your help.”
Gillian’s eyes came open as she recalled something her sister had said. The conversation came back to her slowly.
“You know I will do anything for you.”
“I don’t like involving you, but if things go wrong...”
“Becky, what’s going on?”
“I keep thinking about when we were kids.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“I’m sorry. I was just being sentimental.”
“Is everything okay, Becky?”
“Yes,” her sister said, laughing. “I was just remembering how much fun it was growing up. I love you, Gillian. Always remember that.”
Oh, Becky, she thought now as tears filled her eyes. Things had gone very wrong. Unfortunately, Gillian had no idea what to do about it and now she had a Texas cowboy in her spare bedroom.
She wasn’t going to get a wink of sleep tonight.
* * *
MARC SCRATCHED THE back of his neck and glanced in the rearview mirror. He caught sight of a large gray SUV two cars behind him. Without slowing, he drove from Victor’s toward downtown Helena. At the very last minute, he swung off the interstate and glanced back in time to see the gray SUV cross two lanes to make the exit.
He sped up, wanting to lose the tail. That damned Victor. He’d put a man on him. Marc shouldn’t have been surprised. Had he been Victor, he wouldn’t have trusted him either. Victor had to know that with the ledger and his testimony, his “friend” Marc could walk away from this mess a free man while Victor rotted in prison.
Not that Victor would let him live long enough for that to happen.
Swearing, he slowed down and pulled into a gas station. He saw the gray SUV go past to stop a few doors down in front of a fast-food restaurant. Getting out, he filled his tank and considered what to do next.
His throat felt dry. He would kill for a beer. The problem was stopping at just one beer. It would be too easy to get falling-down drunk. Still, he headed for one of the bars he frequented. Behind him, the gray SUV followed.
Victor’s going to have me killed.
Not until I find the ledger.
The thought turned Marc’s blood to ice.
But it was quickly followed by another thought.
In the meantime, Victor couldn’t chance that the ledger would turn up and fall into the wrong hands. Checkmate, he thought with relief until he had another thought.
Unless Victor decided he could do a better job of getting the whereabouts of the book from Rebecca.
That thought echoed in his head, making his heart thump harder against his chest. Marc felt the truth of those words racing through his bloodstream. What if Victor decided to take things into his own hands?
He thought of Rebecca lying in her hospital bed. If Victor paid her one of his famous visits...
Marc reminded himself that Victor never got his own hands dirty even if he could find a way to get near Rebecca in the hospital.
What if Rebecca really had mailed the ledger to the FBI? His pulse jumped, heart hammering like a sledge in his chest. He wouldn’t let himself go there. No, she’d hidden the book thinking she was smarter than he was, thinking she could force him into the divorce and take Andy from him. Stupid woman.
He tried to concentrate on what to do now. Because if she hadn’t sent the book to the FBI, he had to assume she didn’t know what she had in her possession. That was the good news, right?
The bad news was that no matter the outcome, he and Victor were finished. Even if he found the book and turned it over, Victor would never trust him again. Not that he could blame him. The information in that book could bring them all down. Victor would have him killed.
If he didn’t find the ledger and the cops did, he was going to prison for a good part of the rest of his life. Of course that life wouldn’t be long since Victor and his buddies would be in prison with him.
He still couldn’t believe the mess he was in. He realized there was only one way out of this. He had to get to Rebecca before Victor did. Once she understood the consequences if she didn’t turn over the ledger...he’d give her the divorce and custody. She would hand over his ledger and then when she thought she was safe, he would kidnap his kid and skip the country.
Why hadn’t he thought of that in the first place? Because the woman had made him so furious. Also, he’d thought she would tell him where the ledger was with only minor persuasion.
He parked beside the bar in a dark spot away from the streetlamp and put in a call to the hospital. Rebecca was still unconscious. Swearing, he hung up.
The clock was ticking.
Inside the bar, Marc Stewart took a stool away from everyone else and ordered a beer. The bartender gave him a raised eyebrow at his bandaged face and the black eye that was almost swollen shut, but was smart enough not to comment.
The first beer went down easy. The second took a little longer. He was doing a lot of thinking. Mostly about Rebecca and how he’d underestimated her. He kept mentally kicking himself. He had to get over her betrayal and think about what to do.
“Another beer?” the bartender asked as he cleared away his second empty bottle.
Marc focused on an old moose head hanging on the wall behind the bartender that could have used a good dusting. It reminded him of something. “No, I’m good,” he told the bartender. Something about the moose head still nagged at him, but his head hurt too badly to make sense of it.
He slid off the bar stool, picked up most of his change from the bar and pocketed it. But as he looked toward the door, he told himself he had to ditch the tail that he knew would be parked outside waiting.
Marc smiled to himself even though it hurt his face to do so and put in the call. It was time to take care of business.
Chapter Fifteen
Gillian thought she would never be able to sleep again. At the very least she’d expected to have horrible nightmares.
She must have fallen into a deathlike sleep. She couldn’t remember anything. Now, though, it all came back in a rush, including the Texas cowboy in her spare bedroom.
What did she really know about Austin Cardwell? Nothing. Nothing except he’d saved her life twice and made her feel... She wasn’t even sure how to describe it other than she felt too aware of the man.
She caught the smell of bacon cooking. Austin? Grabbing her robe, she opened her door to find him standing in her kitchen with a pancake flipper in his hand. He was wearing one of her aprons, which actually made her smile.
“You didn’t find bacon in my refrigerator,” she said.
He turned to smile back at her. “Nope. Apparently you exist on wine.”
“I haven’t gotten to the store in a while.”
“I noticed.” He flipped over what she saw were pancakes sizzling on her griddle. “Hungry?”
She started to say she wasn’t. Just as she’d thought she’d never be able to sleep again, she thought the same of eating. But her stomach growled loudly at the smell of bacon and pancakes.
Austin chuckle. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He motioned for her to have a seat at the breakfast bar.
“I should change,” she said, pulling the collar of her robe tighter.
“No need. Eat them while they’re hot.” He slid a tall stack of three-inch pancakes onto her plate along with two slices of bacon. “This is my mother’s recipe for corn cakes. It’s the Texan in me. Wait until you taste the eggs. I hope you like hot peppers.”
She felt her eyes widen in surprise. “You made eggs, as well? I really can’t—”
“Insult me by not trying some?”
She couldn’t help but smile at him in all his eagerness. “Are you trying to fatten me up?”
“You could use a little Texas cooking—not that you aren’t beautiful just as you are.”
“Good catch,” she said, knowing it wasn’t true. She hadn’t been taking good care of herself because she’d been so worried about her sister. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He joined her, loading his plate with pancakes, bacon and eggs before putting a spoonful of the eggs onto her plate. “Just try them. Some people aren’t tough enough to handle my cooking.”
It sounded like a dare—just as he’d meant it to. She studied him for a moment. What would she have done without him? Died night before last in the snowstorm beside the road and no doubt yesterday in Island Park.
Austin handed her the peach jam he’d bought. “Try some of this on your pancakes. Much better than maple syrup.”
“Why not?” she said, doing as he said.
“Now take a bite of the pancake and one of the egg. Sweet and hot.”
She did and felt her eyes widen in alarm for a moment at the heat. But he was right. The sweet cooled it right down. “Delicious.”
“Now add a bite of bacon for saltiness and you’ve got an Austin Cardwell Texas breakfast.” He laughed as he took a bite, chewed and, closing his eyes, moaned in obvious contentment.
Gillian was caught up in his enjoyment of breakfast and her own, as well. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten like this and was shocked when she realized that she’d cleaned her plate.
“Well?” he said, studying her openly. “Feeling better?”
She was. Earlier when she’d awakened, she’d felt lightheaded and sick to her stomach. Now she was ready to do whatever had to be done to save her nephew, and she was pretty sure that had been Austin’s plan.
* * *
“DON’T YOU DARE tell me you lost him,” Victor said when he saw who was calling that morning.
“Sorry, boss. He let me think he knew he was being tailed and had accepted it.”
He swore, but quickly calmed back down. He hadn’t gotten where he was by losing control. True, Marc had already pushed him to the point of losing his temper. Marc Stewart had been a mistake. When he’d first met him, Marc had impressed him. He’d seemed like a man who had all his ducks in a row. That, added to the man’s hunger for the finer things in life, and his charm and willingness to bend the rules, had made him a perfect associate.
Even when he’d realized the man had his flaws, he’d told himself that most men did. Unfortunately, the flaw Victor hadn’t seen in Marc Stewart was about to bring them all down.
“Marc won’t get far from home,” Victor said. “John, I need you to watch his auto shop. Get Ray to keep an eye on the Friendly Bar over on the south side of town. It’s Marc’s go-to bar when things aren’t going well. If either of you spot him again, stay on him. Trade off. Don’t lose him agai
n.”
He hung up, hating that he hadn’t put Jumbo on him. Jumbo wouldn’t have lost him. Victor had realized last night after talking to Marc that he couldn’t trust anyone with this, especially Marc. He’d already bungled things.
Changing into a clean sport shirt and a pair of jeans, Victor pulled on his lucky buffalo-skin boots and checked himself in the mirror. His unthreatening good looks had always served him well. He hoped they didn’t let him down when he went to visit Rebecca Stewart at the hospital in Bozeman.
* * *
IT WAS GOOD to see some color in Gillian’s face as they finished cleaning up the breakfast dishes together and she excused herself. Last night Austin had been worried he was going to have to take her back to the hospital. He was surprised she’d even been on her feet after the car wreck, the concussion and yesterday’s events, not to mention Marc knocking her around before that. Her strength and endurance surprised him and filled him with admiration. If he had almost lost one of his brothers...
The thought was a punch to the gut and a wake-up call. He realized that he’d taken his four brothers for granted, assuming they would always be there.
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed his cousin Dana. He didn’t want to have a long discussion with any one of his brothers. He knew it was cowardice on his part, but at the same time, he wanted to let them know he was all right and that he would try to make Christmas and the grand opening.
Actually, he didn’t want to have to explain himself to anyone, even his cousin Dana. He’d hoped he would get her answering machine and he groaned inwardly when she answered on the third ring.
“Hey, Dana. It’s Austin, your cousin?”
“The elusive Austin Cardwell? Hud said he met you, but I haven’t had that opportunity yet.”
“Sorry, but I’m afraid it could be a while yet.”
She chuckled. “Hud said not to expect you for dinner until I saw the whites of your eyes.”
“Your husband is one smart man.”
“Yes, he is. I suppose you’re calling me with a message for your brothers.”
“Hud’s wife is pretty sharp, as well.”