by B. J Daniels
“What’s your number out there?” McCall asked, and wrote it down. As soon as she hung up, she called the phone company and asked for the phone log on recently dialed numbers.
“I’m sorry, but we’re going to need a warrant to do that or permission from the customer. We’ll need those in writing. You’re welcome to fax them to us. That would speed things up.”
McCall cursed under her breath. “I’ll get back to you.” She then called Frank Hanover back, then called a deputy who was still in the area and sent him over to pick up the written permission slip from the Hanovers.
She wanted to know if Frank Hanover was right and RJ had called someone. She needed to know where he was headed. She’d called in extra officers to help search the area near Mobridge, even though she suspected he was long gone.
He would be looking to steal a vehicle. It was just a matter of time before he found one. She just prayed that no one would be driving it.
RJ DIDN’T KNOW how long he’d been walking up the dirt road when he heard the sound of an engine.
At first he thought he was hallucinating. It had been so long, and he’d been straining so hard to hear one. Praying for one, if he could call it praying. More like wishing on a curse.
He turned and saw what appeared to be a dark-colored pickup headed in his direction. RJ swallowed, his throat dry as he stuck out his thumb.
He’d cleaned up at the house, but he knew he still looked pretty rough. He feared no one would stop for him, so he was surprised when the driver slowed, then braked to a stop.
Sun glinted off the windshield, and it was a moment before he saw the lone driver, an old man dressed in a straw hat, flannel shirt and blue overalls.
He felt a wave of relief. One old farmer behind the wheel.
RJ would have shouted with glee if it wouldn’t have made him look insane.
Both windows were already down on the old pickup. “Trouble?”
RJ stepped up to the open passenger-side window as dust settled around him. “Car broke down a good ways back by the river.”
“You been walking this far in the wrong direction?” the farmer said with a laugh. “If you’d gone the other way, you have reached Highway 191 and gotten a ride a lot quicker than this.”
As if RJ didn’t know that. He’d opted for the less traveled dirt road for a very good reason. The highway was too visible. He couldn’t take the chance since he knew the California police would have put out an APB on him and Josey by now.
“Well, hop in. I can take you as far as Winifred, that’s where I’m headed.”
RJ couldn’t have cared less where Winifred was as he opened the pickup’s door and climbed in. He wouldn’t be going that far anyway.
The pickup smelled of hay and possibly manure. It didn’t matter. RJ couldn’t believe how good it felt not to be walking. The boots he’d borrowed had rubbed blisters on both feet. He leaned back as the old farmer got the rig rolling and watched the land slip by, a sea of undulating green.
The farmer made several attempts to make conversation before turning on the radio. He picked up a station in Whitehorse, Montana, that, according to the farmer, played a polka of the day at noon.
The news came on. Ray tensed as he heard first Josephine Vanderliner’s name and description, then his own, followed by a warning that both were considered armed and dangerous. He wished he was armed as the farmer reached under his seat and pulled out a tire iron.
JOSEY WATCHED THE SUN drop toward the dark outline of the Little Rockies in the distance. The spring day was hot and golden and held the promise of summer.
The prairie glowed under the heat. It was so beautiful and yet so alien. She wondered what this kind of isolation did to a person and thought of Pepper Winchester and the Hoaglands.
For the life of her she couldn’t imagine what this ranch must have been like when all the Winchesters had lived and worked here. Children running up and down the long hallways. The kitchen would have been bustling with activity, the whole ranch alive with sounds.
Josey wished she could have seen it. She sighed and looked to the road, anxious for Virginia to return from town. Earlier, she’d caught Virginia as she was leaving. The idea had come to her in a flash.
“Would you do me a huge favor?” Josey had asked her and seen the woman’s irritation. “I just need to get some money wired to my mother’s rest home.”
Virginia’s interest had picked up instantly. “Oh, honey, your mother’s in a rest home? Why, she can’t be very old. What’s wrong with her?”
“Just give me a moment to get the money and the address.” She’d run back up the stairs, telling herself this was the only way. No one knew Virginia. And it wasn’t like involving Jack. Virginia couldn’t get in trouble over this since she really was an innocent bystander.
Josey had dug through the stacks of hundreds, choosing bills free of blood. She’d already set up her mother’s transfer, planning to move her mother from the horrible rest home where her stepfather had stuck her—to one where he couldn’t find her.
Virginia’s eyebrow had shot up when she saw the wad of money.
“I wasn’t sure I could get a check cashed anywhere up here, and everything with Jack happened so fast…”
His aunt had pursed her lips in disapproval. “Marry in haste and… Well, you know.” She seemed a little upset that Josey hadn’t satisfied her curiosity about her mother.
“Here’s the address. They’re expecting the money. I can’t thank you enough for doing this.”
Virginia had left then, promising to bring her a receipt and let her know that the money had arrived.
Neither Virginia nor Jack had returned and it was getting late. Josey got more restless by the moment. Tired of watching for both of them, she turned away from the window and went into the bathroom to bathe before supper, wondering if Jack would be back by then.
Her bruises were healing. So was the rope burn on her neck. Soon she wouldn’t have to wear the scarves. But she would have to disappear. As long as she was free, her mother should be safe.
She closed her eyes as she slid down into the warm water filled with bubbles. Once her mother was safe and she was sure nothing could change, then she would deal with the fact that she was wanted for murder and she had no way to prove her innocence.
She opened her eyes and climbed out of the tub, wishing she could go to the police and just get it over with. As she toweled herself and pulled on the bathrobe, she told herself that maybe if the police knew what had happened—
No, RJ was right. She would fry, and what would happen to her mother?
She thought about the rest of the bloody money in the armoire and felt nauseous as she opened the bathroom door and stepped out. Either way, she would never see her mother again, she thought, as she looked through her clothes for something to wear to supper.
“Are you all right?”
She jumped as Jack touched her shoulder. She hadn’t heard him return.
He looked so concerned, she was filled with guilt for dragging him into this, even if it had been his idea. She’d only been thinking of herself. She hadn’t considered the spot she was putting him in.
“You scared me.”
“I’m sorry.” He sounded as if he meant it. The last of the day’s light shone on his face through the open French doors, accentuating the strong lines of his face. “Sorry about a lot of things.”
“Sorry you brought me here?” She felt a little piece of her heart break off and fall.
“No,” he said. “No, you’re wrong about that. If I’ve been distant it’s just because…” He raised his hand, signaling to her to wait a moment, then walked over and locked the bedroom door. “Enid won’t be coming back in without us knowing it,” he said, as he dragged a straight-back chair from the small desk in the corner and wedged it under the doorknob.
“Jack?” Josey said. He turned to her, and she saw the look in his eyes. She’d noticed that he seemed different after his ride. More relaxed. More l
ike the Jack she’d met on the highway.
“You want the truth?” he asked.
She swallowed as he moved toward her.
“I think it’s time I was honest with you. I’ve been pushing you away because if I don’t…”
JOSEY’S GREEN EYES widened in alarm—and something that seemed to simmer on the back burner as he moved toward her, his gaze locked with hers.
It had always been so easy to lose himself in that sea of green. He stopped just inches from her, saw her eyes fire as he reached for her robe sash and slowly untied it.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” she asked, her voice breaking.
He chuckled. “It’s been a while, but I think I remember how it goes.”
She placed her hand over his to stop him, her eyes searching his. “Jack—”
He knew all the reasons they shouldn’t take this pretend marriage any further than they had. Hell, he’d listed them at length on his long horseback ride today.
“I want you. That, Josey, is the truth.” He looked into her eyes, then he gently pushed her hand away and untied the robe sash. It fell open to expose bare flesh.
He slipped his hands around her slim, bare waist and felt desire spread through him, a fire rushing through his veins.
His gaze still locked with hers, he inched his hands up to cup her full breasts in each palm. She let out a sound and arched against him. He felt her nipples harden against his palms.
Slowly, his hands moved upward. He eased the robe off her slim shoulders. It dropped to the floor, and for a moment he was taken aback at how beautiful she was.
“I want to make love to you,” he whispered.
Josey let out a soft moan and he felt something give inside him. He’d never wanted anything the way he wanted this woman.
His palms skimmed over her small waist to her hips. Cupping her perfect derriere in both hands, he dragged her to him, no longer able to stand another moment without kissing her again.
Her lips parted as his mouth dropped to hers. He heard her moan again and felt her working at the snaps of his Western shirt, and then his chest was pressed against her warm, full breasts, her nipples hard as stones, and he was carrying her to the canopied bed.
JOSEY WRAPPED THE ROBE around her and stepped to the window, the white sheer curtains billowing in on the evening breeze. She breathed in the unfamiliar scents as if only just now aware of them. Everything felt new and fresh, the day brighter. She hugged herself, smiling as she closed her eyes and turned her face up to the warmth of the sunset, reveling in the memory of making love with Jack.
Jack still lay on the bed behind her. She could feel his gaze on her. It heated her skin more than even the evening warmth. She would never forget the feel of his hands, his mouth, his body. His gentleness. His passion. He’d consumed her, filled her, fulfilled her.
“Come back to bed,” he said softly. “We don’t have much time. If we don’t make an appearance at supper, I’m afraid there will be hell to pay.”
She smiled to herself and was about to turn back when a flash of light caught her eye. The sun glinted off the bumper of a vehicle coming down the road toward them.
Josey froze, her pulse thundering in her ears.
“What is it?” Jack asked, sensing the sudden change in her. He pulled on his jeans and joined her on the balcony.
Her heart began to pound louder as she saw that there was something on top of the SUV roaring up the road. A light bar. And on the side of the vehicle a Sheriff’s Department logo.
“It must be my cousin McCall Winchester,” he said, as a woman with long, dark hair climbed out of the patrol car. Even from this distance Josey could tell she was wearing a sheriff’s uniform.
“What do you think she wants?” Josey asked, fighting to keep the terror out of her voice. She’d thought she was safe here. That Jack was safe. She should never have involved him.
“My grandmother must have invited her for dinner,” he said, as he drew Josey inside the bedroom and shut the French doors. “What’s wrong?”
“Jack, I’m really not up to meeting her.” She felt the heat of his gaze. He’d known she was in trouble. Now he knew it was with the law. “I should have told you—”
He touched a finger to her lips. “I’ll take care of it.” Jack’s gaze locked with hers. “You’re trembling. You should get back in bed.”
“Jack—”
“It’s going to be all right.” He pulled her to him and kissed her. “You can meet my cousin some other time. Don’t worry, I’ll make apologies for you. I shouldn’t have taken you on such a long horseback ride yesterday. I’d hate to think you’re coming down with something.”
She closed her eyes and wished they could just stay in this room forever. Become recluses just as his grandmother had done for twenty-seven years. No one had known for sure whether she was alive or dead. Nor had they cared.
She opened her eyes and grabbed for him as he started for the door. “I can’t let you get in any deeper.”
He took her in his arms, planted a kiss in her hair, then pulled back and smiled. “I’ll be back as quick as I can. Lock the door behind me.”
JACK LEFT JOSEY and went downstairs. He had known Josey was in trouble, but he’d just assumed it involved a man—not the law. As he descended the stairs, he had flashes of their lovemaking. He knew it had probably been a mistake, but even given what he now knew about his “wife,” he couldn’t regret it.
Enid opened the front door and Jack slowed on the stairs. He’d heard about McCall when the news had come about Trace Winchester’s murder and the role Trace’s daughter, a sheriff’s deputy, had played in helping solve the crime—including almost getting herself killed.
So he’d been curious about his cousin the cop. He’d heard she’d been promoted to acting sheriff—their grandmother’s doing, he would bet. Pepper Winchester might have been a recluse for the past twenty-seven years but she was still a force to be reckoned with, especially considering all the land she owned and the Winchester fortune. Which was surprising, given all the stories he’d heard about where that fortune had come from and at what cost.
He thought of the stories his mother had told him, and now he wondered how many of them were true. He had to remind himself that his mother had believed everything Angus Winchester had told her, and look where that had gotten her.
Still, he’d believed at least one of those stories was true. That’s why he’d come here. Strange how long ago that seemed and, maybe more startling, how it had become less important.
McCall looked up as he came down the stairs. He couldn’t hide his shock. She looked exactly like his grandmother had at that age.
She smiled at his surprise. “You must be Jack.” She held out her hand. He stopped to shake it.
He found it amusing how wrong his grandmother had been. He recalled overhearing, when he was six, Pepper saying her son Trace had eloped with a local tramp who was lying through her teeth about the baby she was carrying being her son’s. Clearly, Ruby Bates hadn’t been lying. McCall was a Winchester.
“Oh, I see you two have met,” Pepper said, appearing from down the hall. “Where is your wife?” she asked Jack.
“She isn’t feeling well. I think she might have picked up a bug. I shouldn’t have taken her on such a long horseback ride, as hot out as it was yesterday.”
His grandmother looked suspicious. “McCall was looking forward to meeting her.”
He turned his attention to the acting sheriff. “I’m sure you’ll get to meet her when she’s feeling better. It isn’t like we’re going anywhere for a while.”
RJ TURNED OFF the first side road he came to. Now that he had a ride, all he could think about was sleeping in a real bed tonight.
His shoulder hurt like hell, and he worried that it was infected. Wouldn’t that be a kicker if he died from a stupid flesh wound?
He felt himself coming down from the rush of killing the farmer. He’d been glad when the old fart had pu
lled out the tire iron. Taking it away from him had almost been too easy. He’d smacked him a couple times with it, then reached over and opened the old man’s door, shoving him out before sliding over behind the wheel to stop the pickup.
Once he’d gotten rid of the body, his head ached again but he knew he had to start thinking more clearly.
The pickup was old and dark colored, like a zillion others in this part of Montana. But he did stop and smear some mud on the license plate. He could camp out somewhere, hide the pickup, but he was counting on the farmer’s body not being found for a while.
Eventually someone would call the sheriff’s department to notify them that the old guy was missing. But in the meantime, RJ decided to press his luck.
He would drive to Billings, the largest city in Montana, where he could get what he needed—and not be noticed. It was out of his way by a few hours, but he couldn’t chance going into Whitehorse. Too small. People noticed outsiders in that kind of town.
He shoved the farmer’s hat down on his head and drove toward Highway 191. Tonight he would break into a pharmacy and steal the drugs and medical supplies he needed. He would sleep in a motel room bed, charging the room to the credit card he’d found in the old guy’s wallet, and he’d have a nice meal.
Eventually, the cops would track the expenditures. But he would make sure they never connected it to him. Or at least make sure they couldn’t prove it. Later tonight he would ditch the pickup and get himself a new ride, one no one in Whitehorse would recognize. Then he’d see about getting himself a gun.
Chapter Ten
Move! Josey grabbed her clothes and quickly got dressed, her mind racing. She found her backpack and opened the armoire, dumping the old clothing out and reaching for the money. Just touching it made her sick to her stomach.
But she couldn’t leave it here, and she knew the day would come when she would need it to hire herself a good lawyer. In the bathroom, she retrieved the gun and dropped it on top of the money in the backpack.