Big Sky Dynasty

by B. J Daniels

  “Agnes told me I could find you here.” The sheriff handed Nicci an envelope. “You are duly served, Mrs. Corbett.”

  “Oh, I’m getting so forgetful,” Agnes said, smiling over at Nicci. “When I mentioned to the sheriff that I wanted him to meet you, he said he’d been looking for you. Hasn’t this worked out nicely?”

  Nicci’s face had gone scarlet. She seemed about to say something, but then her cell phone rang.

  “You’d better take that,” Agnes said. “Something about a sailing school in Seattle, I believe?”

  DALTON LOOKED LOST in the past, his face a mask of pain as he stared out at the fair. “I heard the motorboat. I knew it was someone with Nicci and that if I didn’t get the knife away from her and get to the shotgun I carried up onboard…”

  His gaze came back to Georgia. She looked into his eyes, her heart breaking for him, afraid she already knew what was coming next.

  “We wrestled for the knife. If anything, what drug she’d consumed seemed to make her stronger. I finally got the knife from her, but she got away and stumbled up onto deck. I went after her. I could hear the other boat coming alongside. Nicci was waiting for me. She came at me with a fishing gaff and…and I stabbed her.”

  He took a breath and let it out slowly. “I could see the other boat bobbing in the waves out in the darkness. She screamed, ‘Kill him, Ambrose. Kill him,’ as I hurriedly got the shotgun. I heard a splash and raced back to where she’d fallen into the water. It was so dark, I couldn’t see anything, but I heard the other boat speed off.”

  Georgia stared at him wide-eyed. “Nicci?”

  “I looked for her in the water with a spotlight. I didn’t know how badly she was injured, but I knew she was bleeding. When I saw the first shark…” He shook his head. “I thought she was gone. I waited until daybreak, then sailed back toward Galveston planning to go to the police.”

  “You never saw Ambrose, have no idea who he is?”

  Dalton shook his head. “By the time I reached Galveston, I knew I couldn’t go to the authorities with my story. Hell, I didn’t even believe it and I was there. I had no body, no description of Ambrose. The whole story sounded fabricated. I could see myself spending the rest of my life in prison for the death of my wife.”

  “Well, now you know why this Ambrose never went to the police, either. Nicci wasn’t dead. He must have gotten her onto his boat when you were going after your shotgun.”

  He nodded.

  “You are so lucky that you figured out what she was up to before…” Georgia shook her head, unable to finish the thought.

  “Lucky? I thought I’d killed her. I’ve lived with the fact that I was capable of killing another human being for the past nine years.”

  The sun had dipped below the horizon, and the lights on the carnival rides blossomed in the dying light. People began to stream into the fair. The sound of music, clatter of carnival rides and squeals of children drifted on the air along with the scent of corn dogs and cotton candy.

  Everything seemed so normal and yet they were sitting under a tree talking about attempted murder.

  She squeezed his arm, knowing Nicci’s betrayal and his guilt had been slowly killing him. “It was self-defense. You didn’t kill anyone.”

  His gaze locked with hers. “But I tried to.”

  “You had no choice. Who can say what any of us would do under the same circumstances? I’m afraid I would just stand there, too shocked to do a thing. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you, but if you hadn’t fought back you wouldn’t be here now. Just like her second husband.”

  “ARE YOU SURE you’re all right?” the sheriff asked Agnes after Nicci left.

  “Sheriff, I think you should keep an eye on that woman,” Agnes said. “She’s living over the knitting shop in town. I’m worried about Georgia Michaels. Nicci is a dangerous woman. She cut the brake line on Rory Barrow’s pickup in an attempt to kill her and her baby.”

  “Who told you that?” the sheriff demanded.

  Agnes sighed. “It’s true but you won’t find any proof. The woman covers up her evil too well.”

  The sheriff rubbed his neck, studying her. “She said she was leaving town. Do you have any reason to believe she’ll cause trouble before that?”

  Agnes wished she could see the future, but it was as if a black cloud had dropped over her. She could see nothing of the future—only the past and she was exhausted.

  Nicci’s face had been ashen after she’d taken the call on her cell phone. The conversation had been short.

  “Do you have a pen?” Nicci had asked in a strangled voice after snapping the phone shut.

  The sheriff had produced one and Nicci had stepped to the kitchen table, ripped open the large manila envelope the sheriff had given her and, ruffling through the pages, found what she was looking for and signed her name.

  “Here,” she’d said shoving the pen at Agnes. “You witness it.”

  Agnes had taken the pen, felt a small tremor pass through her, and signed what she knew to be divorce papers. Why Nicci had signed the papers when she’d obviously hadn’t wanted to or what all this had to do with a sailing school Agnes couldn’t imagine.

  That was the problem with her sight. It was just glimpses, no full picture, no clear understanding.

  But Agnes’s intuition was still working fine. Nicci might have been forced to sign the divorce papers and leave them with the sheriff, but she’d lied about leaving town.

  Nicci wasn’t through with Whitehorse. Or Georgia. Or even possibly Agnes herself.

  “Maybe you could stop by In Stitches and see if Nicci needs helps packing,” Agnes suggested now to the sheriff.

  Sheriff Jackson smiled. “That would be the neighborly thing to do, now wouldn’t it? Shouldn’t you be getting out to the fair to see how your tomatoes did?”

  A few days ago, her tomatoes and the fair was all Agnes had been worried about. How things had changed. “I’m heading that way now,” she said. “You’ll let Georgia know once her tenant is out?”

  “I’ll make sure Nicci leaves the keys behind.”

  Agnes patted the handsome sheriff’s cheek. “I knew I could depend on you.”

  DALTON’S CELL PHONE buzzed. He checked it. “I need to take this,” he said to Georgia and got to his feet. “Yes?” he said into the phone then listened, his gaze returning to Georgia. “The sheriff is sure? Okay. Thanks. Yeah, that’s a huge relief. It’s just going to take a while to sink in.”

  He closed his phone. “Nicci signed the divorce papers and returned them to the sheriff. He caught up with her and followed her to your apartment. After helping her move out of your place, he had Nicci leave the keys on the front counter in your shop.”

  “She’s gone?”

  “The sheriff said she drove out of town.” Dalton sat down and leaned back against the tree trunk again. “I can’t believe this. It’s too good to be true. She’s out of your apartment. Once the paperwork is filed, Nicci will no longer be my wife.” He broke into a smile. “Lantry said the sheriff is checking into the bigamist charges and possible wrongful death of her second husband.”

  “I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders.”

  He laughed. “Now it’s in the sheriff’s hands,” Dalton said, looking as relieved as Georgia felt.

  But still she felt skeptical that Nicci would ever be caught on any charges. Nicci seemed to cover her tracks too well. If they were right, Nicci had gotten away with attempted murder twice that they knew of and murder at least once. And she was still out on the street, free.

  Georgia couldn’t help but think of that woman she’d met that first day in her shop and took upstairs to see the apartment for rent. It was hard to see her hurting anyone.

  What would cause Nicci to do the terrible things she’d done? She’d tried to hurt Rory and the baby. Georgia couldn’t forgive her for that and yet her heart went out to the insecure woman she’d glimpsed in Nicci, a woman crying out for
help both literally and figuratively.

  Nicci would soon be getting the help she needed—locked up where she couldn’t hurt anyone else.

  “Come on,” Dalton said, taking Georgia’s hand as he jumped to his feet. “If this doesn’t call for a celebration, I don’t know what does.”

  It felt too early to celebrate. Or maybe that was just Georgia’s silly superstitious self talking. But when she looked into Dalton’s oh-so-blue eyes, Georgia couldn’t have denied him anything. He was free, not only from his marriage to Nicci but free of the belief that his actions had led to her death. The man deserved to celebrate.

  “What did you have in mind?” Georgia asked, smiling at him.

  “You’ll see.” He grabbed her hand and drew her through the dark toward the bright lights of the carnival.

  AGNES STOPPED by the garden division. Her tomatoes had taken the blue ribbon. She tried to feel some joy in that. Her husband would have been proud.

  As she walked down to the 4H barn to help finish putting up the displays, all she could do was worry that Nicci was even more dangerous now—and hadn’t left town at all.

  She’d been volunteering at the fair for the past fifty years and wasn’t about to change that now. She tried to lose herself in her work, pleased to be taking part in another county fair and telling herself there was nothing else she could do.

  She was alone in one of the smaller fair buildings displaying some of the needlework when she felt her skin crawl.

  Turning, she found Nicci standing directly behind her.

  “My mother used to do needlepoint,” Nicci said, studying the work Agnes had just hung. “I tried to finish one of hers. How tedious and boring. I can’t imagine why she did it.”

  “Some people say it relieves stress.”

  Nicci scoffed at that. “Maybe it’s why she killed herself.”

  “I thought you’d left town,” Agnes said as she resumed hanging the artwork. She was sure that Nicci had waited until the other volunteers had left before coming in here.

  “Leave without saying goodbye to my friends?” Nicci chuckled. “What kind of person would I be if I did that?”

  Agnes wasn’t about to touch that one.

  “You really aren’t afraid of me, are you?”

  Agnes had never been more afraid of anyone in her life. Nicci was evil on earth. Anyone who wasn’t afraid was crazy.

  But when she spoke, she said, “I’m an old woman. I’ve had a good life. I’m not afraid of dying nor of Judgment Day,” which was all true.

  “You’re afraid for your friend Georgia, though, aren’t you?” Nicci said, sneering.

  Terrified. But Agnes knew better than to show it. She wished she was young and strong and could overpower this woman. But even as she thought it, she knew it would take more than that. It would be a fight to the death.

  Agnes prayed that Georgia would be up to it because she feared that would be how it would end for her friend.

  “You are going to do whatever it is you do,” Agnes said, trying to sound bored. “You’re a miserable person who likes to spread that misery around.”

  Agnes felt Nicci’s clawlike hand clamp down on her shoulder. Pain radiated through her shoulder and down her back. She let out a cry as Nicci increased the pressure, less from the pain than from the image that flashed in her mind.

  “Agnes?” a woman called from the other side of one of the partitions. Agnes hadn’t heard the volunteer return. “Are you all right?”

  Nicci let go and Agnes straightened. “Just my arthritis,” Agnes managed to say, her voice breaking a little, her eyes brimming with tears. She didn’t want Nicci to hurt the other woman and it was something Nicci just might do out of meanness.

  “Well, don’t over do,” the woman called back. “Take a break. Rosie should be coming over to help you anytime now.”

  Agnes rubbed her shoulder and realized that Nicci was no longer behind her. Where had she gone? Agnes had a very bad thought. Earlier she’d seen Georgia talking with Dalton over by some large cottonwood trees at the edge of the fairgrounds.

  “I think I will take a break,” Agnes called to the other woman and hurried outside. Digging out her cell phone, first she called the sheriff and told him Nicci hadn’t left town. He said he’d come out to the fairgrounds and pick her up since there was now an APB out on her for questioning in the death of her second husband and pending bigamy charges.

  She tried Georgia’s cell and left a message to call. Failing that, she went to find Georgia and warn her before Nicci found her.

  Agnes was even more worried now that she knew how Nicci’s mother had died.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Carnivals make me feel like a kid again,” Dalton said, laughing as he bought tickets for the two of them. “Let’s ride the Ferris wheel!”

  Georgia glanced upward and shuddered.

  “If there is something else you’d rather ride…?”

  “No,” she said, seeing his disappointment. “It looks like fun.” She glanced up and quickly looked away.

  “Yes?”

  She smiled, feeling a shiver of excitement and apprehension, the Ferris wheel evoking the same emotions she felt when she was around Dalton. “Yes.”

  As they joined the line, Dalton said, “I know what we need. Stay here,” he said and ran over to buy them cotton candy.

  She laughed as she took a bite. They shared it as they loaded into the chair. The moment the wheel started to turn Georgia gripped the bar that held them in, knuckles turning white.

  “Ah, don’t tell me you’re afraid of heights,” Dalton said, shoving back his Stetson to gaze at her.

  She swallowed and nodded as the chair rose and other riders loaded. Georgia wasn’t afraid of heights, she was terrified of them. She already felt no longer earthbound and with each rock of the chair, she had to clamp down on the cry that wanted to escape her lips.

  “It’s okay,” Dalton said, putting his arm around her. “Don’t look down. Look out over the fair. Isn’t the view amazing?”

  She nodded and loosened her grip a little as their chair began to rise more smoothly. His arm around her felt comforting and the view really was something. Hadn’t she dreamed of being in Dalton’s arms? Just not like this.

  They reached the top and she felt the breeze stir her hair. It did feel good up here, cooler, not so bad after all, Georgia thought, until she made the mistake of looking down as they began their descent. She thought she might be sick.

  “Georgia?”

  When she looked over at him high in the air over the fairgrounds, Dalton thumbed away a spot of cotton candy at the corner of her mouth, his eyes locking with hers and she knew he was about to kiss her. This was definitely not how she’d dreamed it.

  “I don’t think—”

  He touched a finger to her lips. “A part of me died that night at sea. But tonight, here with you, I feel as if I’ve been given a second chance to live again. For so long nothing has mattered. Georgia, this matters. You matter.”

  The chair rocked and he pulled her closer. She relaxed in his arms, leaning into him. The kiss was like the taste of summer, sweet and filled with the scents of the carnival. He enveloped her and she lost herself in the wondrous feel of his mouth on hers, feeling safe, forgetting where she was.

  All around them the sounds and sights of the carnival and fair seemed to freeze as if she and Dalton were the only two people left in the world.

  AGNES WORKED her way through the crowds toward the tree where she’d seen Georgia and Dalton earlier. Georgia had to still be here. She planned to come out to the fair this evening for the official opening. There’d been no answer at both the shop phone or Georgia’s cell, something that worried Agnes.

  Was it possible that Nicci had already found Georgia?

  How was it that she could sense some things and not others? Not one to question either blessings or curses, Agnes made her way to the cottonwood trees at the edge of the fairgrounds only to find no one around.
As she started back across the fairgrounds, she happened to look in the direction of the carnival rides.

  Her feet faltered under her and she almost stumbled and fell as she spotted not only Georgia, but Dalton Corbett—on the Ferris wheel. Wasn’t Georgia afraid of heights? And how, pray tell, did she know that? Agnes asked herself.

  “Doesn’t matter,” she muttered. “Not my place to question any of it.” Although she had to wonder why an old woman like herself had been given this gift.

  She started toward the Ferris wheel, keeping the two in sight, planning to be waiting for them at the bottom when they got off so she could warn them that Nicci was here at the fair.

  Agnes had only taken a few steps when she saw Nicci. The evil blonde was standing in the shadow of one of the buildings, her gaze pointed upward at the Ferris wheel. It was the hatred in Nicci’s expression that stopped Agnes cold.

  “Oh, dear,” she muttered under her breath as she shot a glance in the direction of the Ferris wheel. Georgia was in Dalton’s arms and they were kissing, and Nicci had seen the whole thing.

  WHEN THE RIDE ENDED, Georgia pulled back, their chair rocking wildly before it came to a stop. Dalton looked into her gold-flecked brown eyes, losing himself for a long moment. All he wanted to do was kiss her again.

  But lifting the bar, he helped her off and saw that her legs were wobbly from the ride. Or from the kiss? He felt a little lightheaded himself.

  Their equilibrium barely restored, they were swallowed up in the crowd. Dalton thought he heard someone call to them, but Georgia didn’t seem to notice and he didn’t see anyone in the crowd he recognized.

  “I apologize for that,” he said as they worked their way through the throngs of people.

  “No, the kiss was…”

  “I meant the Ferris wheel ride,” he said with a grin.

  She smiled shyly. “I enjoyed the ride, really. I’m sorry but I have this thing about heights.”

  “You have ridden a Ferris wheel before, right?”