Endangered Heiress

by Barb Han

  Disbelief.

  “What’s wrong, Mr. Staples? Are you surprised that I’m not jumping all over a claim to Mike Butler’s fortune?” She listened for background noise to figure out his location.

  “To be honest? Yes.” There was nothing to give away his surroundings. It was quiet and he was most likely calling from that same office inside the Butler camp where they spoke less than twenty-four hours ago.

  “Well, then you obviously don’t know me very well, do you?” she asked, but it was rhetorical.

  He started to say something but she cut him off.

  “Guess you had me figured wrong,” she said. Was she trying to prove how different she was from a Butler child? Probably. But it didn’t stop the little blossom of hope that all this was a bad dream and she’d be getting back to her life—a life without Owen—by tomorrow.

  “Not really,” he stated, and there was an astonished quality to his voice.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

  Staples hesitated. Then came, “That’s exactly what your father would’ve said.”

  Chapter Eight

  “My father is Charles Kensington until proven otherwise.” The slight tremor to Madelyn’s voice belied her certainty. She was coming off strong, reassured. Based on Hudson’s experience, her house of cards was about to tumble down and she knew it. That was the reason for the tough-guy act.

  “Will you be able to stop by today and discuss what this news means?” Ed Staples asked.

  “I’ll think about it,” she said. “I have a few things that I have to take care of first.”

  “Call me when you’re ready and I’ll arrange for you to meet the others,” he stated.

  She hoped he was talking about the Butler kids and not more people like her. How many kids did Maverick Mike have?

  “I will.”

  It took a few seconds of Madelyn staring out the front windshield for her shoulders to relax into the seat after she dropped her phone into her purse.

  “How did your father react to the news?” Hudson asked. Years of experience had taught him to recognize when someone was being honest, and Staples had sounded sincere. Hudson wasn’t ready to scratch the lawyer’s name off his suspect list but he’d moved it to the bottom for the time being.

  “I haven’t spoken to him yet,” she responded.

  “Come again?” he asked. That was the first place she should’ve checked to figure out if Butler was her biological father. A point could be made that the man she believed to be her parent might not have known she wasn’t his. But Hudson was jumping the gun.

  “He didn’t return my call yesterday, okay. It’s not like I didn’t try.” There was so much frustration in her voice that Hudson could tell there was a bigger story. One she didn’t seem ready to share. He was smart enough not to poke an angry bear, so he left the subject alone.

  They ate in the small breakfast taco shack and then made their way to the Red Rope Inn.

  Hudson parked near the lobby’s glass doors. “Follow my lead.”

  “Ask for Trent. He was working when I checked in yesterday,” she said.

  “What does he look like?” he asked.

  “Black hair. Brown eyes. Not too tall, maybe five foot nine. Pretty young, I’d say maybe twenty-three. He had a mole toward the bottom left of his chin. He was reasonably attractive.” Her keen observation skills reminded him that he was dealing with a reporter. He needed to keep that thought close when the urge to kiss her tried to overpower common sense again.

  A different worker was behind the counter today. He was fairly young, midthirties, and already starting to lose his hair. Hudson made a mental note of his description. Maybe they could get a copy of the schedule.

  “Is Trent here?” he asked after taking Madelyn’s hand. Frissons of electricity vibrated up his arm. He did his level best to ignore them, especially since the memories of that kiss from yesterday had been on his mind all night.

  “He called in sick,” the worker said. “I’m Robert. How can I help you?”

  A red flag just shot up in Hudson’s mind, and based on the way Madelyn’s fingers tensed, the same happened to her.

  “Is the manager in?” Hudson asked.

  “You’re looking at him,” Robert said with a curious look. “What can I do for you?”

  “There was a woman here yesterday by the name of Kelsey,” he continued, wondering why the manager would be behind the counter helping walk-ins. Then again, Red Rope Inn looked like a small operation, so it could be possible.

  “Brownish, reddish hair. About yay tall?” Robert held his hand out flat underneath his eyes. He was about five foot ten and was indicating roughly Madelyn’s height.

  Hudson glanced toward Madelyn, who was nodding.

  “Yeah, that’s the one,” he said. “Does she work today?”

  “I’m afraid not and she won’t be back.” Robert frowned.

  “Really?” Madelyn dropped his hand.

  “Kelsey turned in her resignation last night,” Robert said with a shake of his head. “Said she couldn’t handle the job anymore.”

  “Hard to find dependable help these days,” Hudson agreed as more red flags shot up.

  “You’re telling me,” Robert said. “All over some kind of stink made yesterday from one of our guests.”

  Hudson could guess who that meant. He reached back for Madelyn’s hand, found it and ignored the unwelcome charge of electricity pulsing up his arm from contact once again.

  “My girlfriend and I wanted to thank her. She and Trent did a great job when we checked in last night,” Hudson lied. Didn’t sound like Robert knew what was going on. “I guess there’s no way you could give us her address so we could stop by on our way out of town.”

  Robert’s head was already shaking. “Sorry. Can’t give out personal information of current or former employees. Corporate would have my head on a platter.”

  “With all the lawsuits going around, I understand,” Hudson said in a move of solidarity. “We can’t leave a note for her since she’s no longer employed here.”

  “We get paychecks day after tomorrow. She didn’t tell me to mail hers when she resigned and she’s one of the few who still get theirs on paper, so I’m guessing she’ll swing by. I could pass along a thank-you note then,” Robert offered.

  “Any idea what time that might be?” Hudson asked.

  Robert seemed to catch on. He shrugged, like he was trying to look casual, but sweat beaded on his forehead. “Not sure.”

  “We’ll do a note, then.” Hudson turned to Madelyn. “Do you want to do the honors?”

  She nodded and he could almost see the wheels turning behind her eyes. “Is there a pen and paper I can use?”

  Robert produced both and then waited while she scribbled.

  They thanked him and left quickly. The door had barely closed behind them when she asked, “Doesn’t it seem suspicious that Kelsey quit and Trent called in sick?”

  “Absolutely,” he agreed.

  Her phone buzzed and she looked up at him with a mix of fear and anxiety.

  “Might want to see who that is,” he said.

  She did.

  “A number I don’t recognize but this is the second time they’ve called. I figured it was...him... I didn’t answer last night,” she said.

  “Is there a message?” His brow shot up.

  She nodded. “I forgot to listen to it. My mind’s been on a million other things.”

  He could understand why she’d want to shut down last night. She put her phone to her ear and stilled as she listened to the recording. Hudson glanced at her, ignoring the memory of her lips on his from last night—a memory that had pervaded his thoughts and made sleep impossible. He almost laughed out loud at that one. He hadn’t slept a straight eight in more than a year.
r />   “What the...?” She paused. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “What is it?” He pulled out of the parking lot.

  “That was Kelsey’s lawyer. She’s suing me for putting her under duress yesterday,” she said, indignant.

  “I guess news that you’re a Butler is out.”

  “Might be a Butler,” she corrected, “and who would do something like this anyway?”

  “Now I really wish we had Kelsey’s address,” he said. “Hold on. I think I might know a person who can help us.”

  Hudson turned the wheel and headed back to the sheriff’s office. A few turns and fifteen minutes later he parked in front of Sawmill’s office. The buzz of reporters was everywhere and a few rushed over, swarming his truck. One yelled, “No one important!” and the rest scattered back to their vans with disappointed looks.

  “This place is a zoo,” she said.

  “Keep your head down, eyes forward.”

  “What are we doing here?” Her eyes were wide.

  “Pretending to follow up on your complaint from last night.” Hudson took Madelyn’s hand, ignoring the spark ignited by contact. It struck him that the reporters dismissing them meant her news hadn’t really gotten out. What did that say? Only a few people knew...a few insiders, and that made him think the attacks on Madelyn were coming from inside the Butler camp.

  “Doris,” Hudson said over the hum of activity in the sheriff’s office.

  She glanced up and her gaze stopped on Madelyn. A look of shock crossed her worn features. The extra activity seemed to be taking a toll on her but she quickly recovered with a smile.

  “How’s my favorite person in all of Cattle Barge doing this morning?” she asked Hudson.

  “You can’t be talking about me since I don’t live in town,” he said, returning her smile.

  “Even so, I rarely ever get the pleasure of your company twice in one week. Who’s the pretty lady?” She smiled at Madelyn.

  He introduced them.

  “Nice to meet you,” Madelyn said, breaking their link in order to shake Doris’s outstretched hand.

  “What brings you into town?” Doris asked with a quirked eyebrow.

  “My friend is visiting and had an incident on the highway yesterday afternoon.” Could he really only have known Madelyn for a day? Being around her felt natural, like they’d known each other for years instead of hours.

  Doris rocked her head. “She’s the one?”

  “Afraid so.” Neither seemed ready to say she was also the one from the complaint at the motel last night.

  “The sheriff told me about what happened in our briefing first thing this morning,” she said. “Our town is normally a great place to be. I’m sorry your experience doesn’t match.”

  It was good that Sawmill was talking about the incident. Assigning resources was another story and that was where the investigation was falling short. “I know how busy things are around here and a case like hers is likely to be set aside when a murder investigation the scale of Mike Butler’s makes news. I thought I might do a little digging on my own. It would be a great help if you could tell me the names of a few employees at Red Rope Inn.”

  “I can’t do that,” Doris insisted with a cluck of her tongue.

  He’d expected as much.

  “There was a girl working last night. Kelsey Shamus,” Madelyn continued without missing a beat. “I got a call from her lawyer. She’s suing me because she thinks I traumatized her while I was upset about someone gaining access to my room without my permission.”

  Doris gasped. “What on earth? From what I heard, you were the victim. Why would she...? Never mind... People surprise me all the time. I should know better than to be shocked by anything these days.”

  “The person who wrote the threat on my mirror had to have had a key. Kelsey told me no one had access,” Madelyn continued.

  “What about housekeeping?” Doris clucked her tongue again.

  “Exactly. That’s what I asked. I’d had a hard day and probably came off a little too strong.” Madelyn’s conspiratorial tact seemed to be working because Doris was getting visibly upset.

  “Who wouldn’t?” Shoulders stiff, Doris was indignant now.

  “I know, right,” Madelyn agreed. “Looking back, I was probably a little too harsh with her but it’s not like I cursed her out.”

  “You had a right to, though,” Doris said on a huff.

  Madelyn was a damn good journalist. She might not want to admit it, but she’d make one fine lawyer, too.

  “A guy named Trent was working when I checked in. Do you know him?” she asked.

  “He’s the Buford boy,” Doris admitted.

  And, bingo, they had a last name. The fact that Madelyn was a good investigator shouldn’t clench his stomach in the way it did. Her curiosity about him would eventually win out and she’d dig around in his background.

  “Does he live in town?” Madelyn pressed.

  Doris glanced around and then leaned forward. “He rents a house with the Mackey boy over on Pine next door to the CVS, same block.”

  “Thank you so much, Doris. You’ve been a huge help,” Madelyn said with a satisfied smile.

  Hudson took note of the fact that she seemed able to turn her charm on readily in order to get what she wanted. Reporters were bigger chameleons than detectives when they needed to be. He also reminded himself that they didn’t have to follow the law and that put them in the same category as criminals in his book.

  His back stiffened when Madelyn reached for his hand. He forced a smile, keeping up the charade in front of Doris. The second the two of them left the building he intended to let go.

  And that was exactly what he did.

  * * *

  MADELYN HAD JUST scored a major win for the team, so she was caught off guard when Hudson dropped her hand the second they walked into the parking lot.

  The drive to Pine Street was quiet and she was left wondering what had changed between them. Something had. But the handsome cowboy wasn’t talking and she didn’t have the energy to push. He was helping her and she would leave it at that. Plus, they had a lead and that was progress in one area of her turned-inside-out life.

  Pine Street had a row of historic-looking houses. She figured they rented for top dollar given the craze for authentic vintage-home charm with modern redesigns and appliances. Hudson walked a step ahead of her and banged on the door with law-enforcement fervor. Whatever had happened back at the sheriff’s office had snapped him into cop mode. Although, he had yet to admit his background to her, which begged the question why.

  She shelved those thoughts for now. The familiar tingle of excitement that accompanied a break in a big story tickled her stomach. Her pulse sped up, too, along with an adrenaline spike.

  If Trent truly was sick, and no one seemed to believe that line, it stood to reason he’d be home.

  No one came to the door and there was no sign of movement in the house. It was quarter after ten in the morning, so Trent could be asleep and his roommate, the Mackey boy Doris had mentioned, might be at work. Didn’t normal people mostly have nine-to-five jobs now? Madelyn worked all the time and, as a rancher, so would Hudson. But they were outliers.

  Disappointment settled in with the second round of bam-bam-bam. The door rattled.

  So close...

  And then she heard the creak of pressure on wood floors, a glorious sound. But then nothing.

  Hudson pressed his face up to the window and muttered a curse at the same time she did.

  “That’s him,” she said. Trent was trying to run. Her pulse pounded.

  “Stay here. I’ll cover the back,” Hudson said in that authoritative voice reserved mostly for people who wore a badge. She’d been told mothers had that same tone but she’d have to take it on face value given that she’d ne
ver known hers.

  His heavy footsteps disappeared around the side of the house and all she could hear was him shouting at someone.

  Madelyn took off after them, pushing her legs to catch up to the two men running in front of her. Hudson’s large frame blocked her view of Trent. Her lungs squeezed as they rounded the corner, reminding her how infrequently she’d used that gym membership she’d bought for herself at Christmas and how little she’d adhered to the New Year’s resolution that she’d keep up with the workouts. She pushed through burning thighs as Hudson tackled the guy in front of him.

  The two of them were fast, so it took a few beats for her to catch up. By the time she did, Hudson was straddled over the younger man’s body.

  “It’s not him,” she said through quick breaths, grasping at the cramp in her right side.

  “I told you to stay put,” he said, his words angry. He hardly seemed affected by the chase, whereas the young guy underneath him was breathing heavy. There was a small satisfaction in that.

  “When you ran, I followed,” she said, bending forward and glancing back toward the house.

  Hudson made a frustrated sound as he turned his attention to the blond-haired twentysomething guy. “Who are you?”

  “Dude, what’s your problem?” Blond-hair responded.

  “You didn’t answer my question.” Hudson reared his fist back.

  “Hold on a second.” Blond-hair winced, readying himself for impact.

  “Tell me your name,” Hudson shouted.

  “Brayden Mackey,” he responded, turning his head and squinting.

  “Where’s Trent?” Hudson’s posture tensed even more, his fist a few feet from Brayden’s face.

  “He’s gone, dude. He told me to run out the back door and get as far away as I could while he took off out the front,” Brayden said.

  They’d been played.

  Chapter Nine

  A ten-minute conversation with Brayden revealed how little he knew about Trent’s activities. Frustration at being so close and the only lead slipping through their fingers nipped at Madelyn as she listened. Apparently, the two had been roommates for the past year. Brayden believed that Trent had switched his days off.