Legend Hunter

by Jennifer Mckenzie

  He still stroked her hand and stared at her knuckles. “You mean last night?”

  “Yes, I mean last night.” She sounded exasperated. “I saw something. And I think I saw John McBride murdered.”

  Her gaze on his was serious and a frown made two lines appear between her eyes. It dawned on him what she might be getting at here. “I didn’t kill him, Kiera.”

  “I know that,” she said impatiently. “But if I didn’t, and you didn’t, who did?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “I don’t know. McBride appeared and I was going to rush him, but somebody knocked me out. When I woke up, McBride was dead, broken like a rag doll.” He peered at her. What had she seen?

  With dismay, he watched as her face shuttered and she wouldn’t even look at him. “Oh,” was all she said.

  “Kiera, what did you see?”

  As she flopped back on the gurney, she glared at him. “Nothing.”

  “Why are you lying to me? You saw something or someone kill John McBride. You know what that place is where he was killed. Why won’t you tell me?” Stupid question. The answer was written all over her face.

  She didn’t trust him.

  And why should she? Didn’t her father do anything for fame and fortune? Hadn’t her father’s fraud made her believe Legend Hunters were the spawn of Satan?

  It clarified everything for him right then, she didn’t love him. She couldn’t and believe he’d betray her trust like that. If she’d have shot a bullet through him, it would have hurt less. Slowly, he dropped her hand. “I see.”

  Pain etched lines in her face. “Ben—”

  He held up a hand. There was no need to say it out loud. He didn’t know if he could stand to hear it said. “You don’t need to say any more.”

  She opened her mouth and started to speak when the Sheriff strode into the room. “Well, how are you feeling?”

  Her gaze jerked to her friend’s face. Ben took advantage and rose from his seat. “I’ll go now.”

  “Ben—” Kiera spoke again, but Ben didn’t wait. He fled the room.

  Disappointment and hurt followed him. Time to move on.

  *

  As Ben left the room, Kiera’s heart shattered. He was leaving? Where was he going? “Wait!” She called and started to get up.

  A hand clamped her shoulder. “Don’t get up. I’ll get him.” Jeremy whirled around and followed Ben.

  Her teeth worried her lip. What was wrong with her? A near death experience, and she’d realized she loved Ben Harmon, but it only took a small moment of distrust to throw it away.

  Jeremy returned with a frown. “I missed him. He pulled out of here so fast it made my head spin.”

  “How?” Her mind raced. “His truck isn’t here, is it?”

  Her friend glared at the door. “Amanda had someone driving her around. They took off as I was coming out the door.”

  “Shit,” Kiera muttered and struggled to sit up. Jeremy rushed to her and tried to keep her prone.

  “Kiera, you can’t go running after him.”

  To her amazement and dismay, she burst into tears.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The sun was too bright when Jeremy drove Kiera home amid a slew of reporters. Her “no comment” didn’t make any difference to the piranhas. Jeremy’s badge did, however, and they were nowhere to be seen now.

  Neither was Ben.

  Home seemed empty. As she wandered into the kitchen, she stared at the counter. There, she’d given into a passion she’d never known, a need she didn’t understand. Without Ben, it all seemed so pointless.

  Why wouldn’t he walk away from her? She’d greeted him with a shotgun and it pretty much went to shit from there. Other than great sex, what in the hell did she have to offer him but a lifetime of baggage and resentment?

  In the silence of the afternoon, Kiera admitted something she’d known but denied. She got as much out of hating her father as he’d gotten from drinking. It was her protection, her excuse. With that distrust, that resentment, she never had to open up with anyone and risk being hurt.

  On the mantle was a picture of her father. Curly brown hair and laughing blue eyes, her father stared back at her as if daring her to remember. There had been so many good times. Yet, when things went bad, she chose to remember those things rather than the good times.

  And look what it had gotten her.

  Loneliness. Pain. Broken relationships.

  Restless, she picked up the phone and dialed the hospital in Davis. Even in the midst of her pain, she had to take care of her responsibilities.

  When she finally got her mother’s room, Mr. Peel answered the phone. “Your mother is doing very well under the new treatments,” His voice had a dry sound, but warm. “She may be able to come home soon.”

  Home. Was this even home anymore? She tried to put enthusiasm in her voice. “That’s great. May I speak to her?”

  When her mother’s voice reached her, Kiera relaxed a little. “Kiera! How are you?”

  “I’m fine, Mom.” Her hand gripped the receiver. “How are you feeling?”

  “Well, I’m tired, but the doctors tell me that’s normal. Honey, I wanted to tell you something.”

  The tension immediately came back and Kiera’s muscles clenched. “What?”

  “When I went in for surgery, I remembered something I wanted you to know if I died.” Her mother’s tone was matter of fact. “Your father had a safe deposit box. Did you know that?”

  “No, I didn’t.” Kiera frowned. She didn’t remember anything about that and she’d taken care of all the details after her father’s death.

  “Well, he did. And I want you to open it. I never could. With Mr. Harmon there, it may help.” Her mother’s comment spoke volumes and Kiera’s heart contracted. Ben wouldn’t help her now. Her mother sighed. “I don’t know why I never told you about it. Maybe I just wanted to keep a piece of him to myself. You two were so close.”

  Kiera shook her head. Her mother saw what she wanted to see. “Where is it?”

  “Well, you were close until that summer.” Her mother talked as if Kiera hadn’t spoken. “I don’t know what happened, if puberty changed things or Beth’s accusations or your father’s betrayal of Dodo, but I know you weren’t as close as before.”

  Kiera’s throat closed and it hurt to swallow. Her mother actually said these things out loud, something Kiera had never heard her do before. Her mother went on. “He loved you so much, but he didn’t know how to show you.” She sighed.

  “I loved him too.” Kiera choked out as tears made her voice shake.

  “I know, honey. Go open that box. I kept it in my Hope Chest in the bedroom.”

  “Thank you, Mama,”

  “I haven’t heard you call me that in a long time. It sounds so good. I love you, Kiera.”

  A warmth spread through Kiera’s chest. “I love you, too. Get better so you can come home soon.”

  “I will, baby.”

  Kiera found the steel box in the bottom of the cherry wood chest. The key dangled from the lock as if her mother had started to open the box, but stopped midway. She clicked the box open and rifled the contents.

  Several letters postmarked the year her father released the photograph caught her attention. The handwriting was familiar on one of them.

  Beth Lauder.

  She’d written her father? Kiera frowned.

  June 28th,

  Doc,

  I agreed to go away yet still you published those lies? Why did you tell them I faked those footprints? I would never do that. I loved you so much. How could you do this thing?

  Please, tell the truth. Tell them that I had no part in this thing. I don’t care about the photograph. I won’t tell. But you’ve destroyed my career, my life. I can’t look my family in the eye.

  The letter went on for a while alternating between declarations of love and condemnation.

  Her other letter was more ominous.

  Doc,

  Gavin was here
and asked me to marry him. When I said ‘no’, he went crazy and demanded the original photograph. He told me if I didn’t keep my mouth shut, he’d shut it for me. What have you gotten me into? Please, tell the truth. I’m begging you.”

  Beth

  Tears blurred the pages. She ran her fingers over the words as if by touching them, she could reach past the hurt, past the grave and somehow comfort Beth.

  There were other letters, most of them copies of letters to her father’s lawyers. The one that drafted his will was particularly interesting.

  Masters, Masters and Arden

  Please change my will to the following. My only daughter Kiera McConnel is not to receive anything unless she continues my work. If, at the time of my death, she is employed in any other actions than the hunt for Bigfoot, all my assets will go to my wife, Diane McConnel. If my wife is deceased, my assets will go to the following list of research groups.

  First on that list was Ben’s paranormal research group. She also found the letter for the addendum which instructed them to ensure she did not receive any money unless she searched for Bigfoot.

  It occurred to her that she ought to feel bitterness and anger at seeing these things. Yet, those feelings of hatred toward her father were gone. He was a flawed, deceitful human being. He hurt many people around him. But he was dead and she wasn’t.

  There were two last letters in the stack bound together by a decaying rubber band. The top envelope was addressed to her mother and unopened. Should she open it?

  She took a deep breath and ripped open the envelope. Her father’s distinctive penmanship jumped off the page and surprisingly, it was addressed to her.

  Kiera,

  I’m sure your mother will be unable to deal with the contents in this box and you’ll be reading this letter. The letters must be used to put Gavin McBride in jail. Enclosed in the box is proof that I was blackmailed and that Beth Lauder felt threatened by him. I’m pretty sure Gavin murdered her. I do not trust anyone else to make sure justice is done.

  Your loving father,

  Doc McConnel

  She shook her head. Who was he to talk about justice?

  She studied the second letter. The envelope was addressed to her father and opened. She removed the one sheet of paper inside. It was typed and had no greeting but at the bottom of the page was a sprawling signature.

  Gavin McBride.

  Enclosed you will find a copy of the original photograph taken by Beth Lauder to produce the picture you released to the media. It is proof that I know it’s a fraud.

  Since I am now a part of the secret, I must be compensated. You will pay me twenty percent of any proceeds from the use of the photograph. To ensure that you don’t back out, I also have proof that you faked the footprints found July 12th and Beth Lauder and Rupert Dowdy were innocent. I have withheld this evidence from the police, but I will turn it in if you do not pay me every month.

  I would have as much trouble destroying your reputation as you did destroying Beth’s so keep that in mind.

  I have very little left to lose.

  Gavin’s bold signature spread across the bottom of the page. Kiera’s hands shook. She’d known her father had been ruthless, cruel, even vengeful, but to see what he’d done in black and white was a shock.

  John McBride’s brother. Again, the vision of John’s broken body snapped in two by a huge figure returned and she still wondered what she’d seen. The letters seemed to imply that Gavin McBride had threatened Beth. Would Gavin kill his brother? What was the motive for that? If Gavin did murder Beth, her father had begun the tragedy with his greed and lies.

  Quite a collection of letters.

  Darkness had descended on her cabin and night noises began to filter through the windows.

  Tears coursed down her cheeks and her stomach clenched. He knew her so well. Her father counted on her bitterness, her resentment, to bring a killer to justice. She’d been so blind, so stubborn. If it hadn’t been for Ben—

  Oh, shit! Ben.

  She scrambled to her feet and picked up her phone. Would he understand? Would he forgive her? Her hand hovered over the buttons to call him when she realized she didn’t know his number.

  She dialed the hospital and talked to Mr. Peel. “I know this may sound unusual, but can you please give me Ben’s cell phone number?”

  A strange noise came over the line as Mr. Peel cleared his throat. “I’m not in the habit of giving out that number, Ms. McConnel.”

  “Then can you call him and ask him to please call me at home? It’s extremely important.” She clenched the receiver in her hand.

  “I can do that.”

  “Thank you. Give my mother my love.”

  “I will.”

  Kiera paced. She should call Jeremy. He was the Sheriff, but how could she reveal the letters about her father and Beth without mentioning Amanda’s involvement? Amanda thought her sister committed suicide. But did she? Her father believed she’d been murdered. Killed by Gavin McBride.

  The shrill ring of the phone made her nerves jump. She clicked to answer. “Kiera? What is it? Mr. Peel said it was important. Are you okay?” Ben’s concern crackled over the line. Tears threatened again.

  “I’m okay. Can you come out here please?”

  Silence filled the air between them. She closed her eyes. He was done with her. He’d taken all he could take. He wasn’t going to give her another—“Now?” His voice was soft and low.

  “Yes, please. If you can.”

  “I’m on my way.” The phone went dead, and she stared at it. He didn’t even ask her why. He just dropped everything and came. Did that mean what she thought it meant? She hoped so.

  Nervous, she sat, then stood, then sat again. And then she paced back and forth until she heard his truck roaring up the gravel road. Before he reached the door, she flung it open. His hands gripped her shoulders. Lines appeared on his forehead. “What’s wrong?”

  He was worried.

  “Ben, I found something.”

  His hands dropped to his sides and a shutter slammed over his face. “Oh?”

  Well, what did she expect? Okay, she wanted him to take her in his arms and tell her it would all be fine, but after she’d pushed him away that was probably too much to ask. She grabbed one of his hands and tugged him into the cabin. “Yes. And I want you to be the first to see it.”

  He plopped into one of her chairs and she pressed the safety deposit box into his hands. His eyebrows drew down as Ben read the contents. After a few moments, his gaze rose to meet hers. “He was being blackmailed?”

  “Yes. Gavin McBride knew he’d forged the photograph.” How could she explain it, this feeling of guilt, of responsibility that made it hard to breathe? “Beth knew and begged him to stop. I knew and said nothing.”

  “You couldn’t have known this.” Ben’s expression softened. The band around her chest loosened and she smiled a little.

  “No. But I didn’t help. Maybe if I had backed Beth up, she could have stopped my father. And Gavin.” Her hands twisted together and she stared at them. “Now Beth is dead and Gavin may be a killer. If he is, Bobby might be one of his victims. I should have said something.”

  “You were thirteen, Kiera. There’s no way you could have known.”

  She shrugged. “Not when I was thirteen.” She hesitated for a moment, and then said, “But when you came, I shouldn’t have judged you the way I judged my father.”

  Ben stared at her. “What are you trying to say?”

  She swallowed. “I was wrong. Dead wrong. I was wrong not to trust you. I was wrong to think you only wanted the story.”

  He closed the box and slid it onto one of the end tables. “I won’t tell anyone about that place, Kiera. You kept that secret for so many years. I couldn’t do that to you.”

  She nodded her head. “I see that now.”

  He thrust an impatient hand through his hair. “I wanted to ask you what you wanted me to say, but you were out of it.”
>
  “You said just the right thing.” She stood up and crossed to his chair. Inside, she trembled as she knelt in front of him. As she touched one of his hands, heat sprang between them. In a heartbeat, he’d stood up and yanked her to her feet.

  Without another word, he bent his head to take possession. She played with the strands of hair at the nape of his neck, and he groaned against her mouth. His tongue swept inside and dueled with hers. Lost, she tightened her hold on him and plastered her body along his as his hands slid down her back.

  He broke the kiss long enough to say, “Get moving, Kiera, or we’ll be making love on the living room floor.”

  Even that idea appealed to her. She almost collapsed when he released her, but managed to stumble to the bedroom with him close on her heels. When she reached the bedroom, she flung her shirt off and was heading for her jeans when strong fingers moved her hands. “I want to,” he murmured and she ran her fingers through his hair. His gentle touch undid her and her heart clenched. Just his touch, his breath on her skin, made her crazy.

  As his hands flicked her jeans open, his head dipped and kissed her collar bone, the valley between her breasts, her belly button. How much more could she take? Yet, he held her still with his silent request. Slow, easy, gentle. “I want to,” he’d said. Those three words and she couldn’t move a muscle. She could only feel.

  He paid special attention to her tender nipples, each one. She gasped as he scraped his teeth over her tightened flesh and electricity shot straight to her core. She arched into his mouth and he groaned against her breast. It was a heady, erotic sensation being ravished, truly ravished.

  By the time he reached the crease at her hip, she couldn’t breathe. He eased her jeans to the floor and licked the inside of her thigh. Her body jerked as his lips traveled upwards until he reached his goal. Slow. Jesus, he went so slow. It was agonizing. Glorious.

  Her knees shook and buckled until her torso lay across the bed with his mouth still torturing her. He increased the pressure and pace when her hands clenched in his hair. She bucked and squirmed and lost her mind. Broken thoughts spiraled. Touch me. Love me. Don’t stop. Don’t leave. Oh God! When she reached the peak of pleasure, her broken cry was echoed by his moan vibrating against her sensitive flesh. Trembling, she couldn’t move.