TUCKER CALLED KATE once he was back at the ranch and in his room alone. He was still shaken from what his brother had told him. Madeline had been murdered? Whoever was waiting for her downstream had apparently killed her. But why?
Kate answered on the second ring.
“Tucker.” She put so much into that one word it made him realize how much he’d missed her. He swore silently under his breath as he remembered what Darby had said.
“I got your text. Is everything all right?” he asked.
“It is now. When my mother called, she said my father had a heart attack.” She groaned. “It turned out to be nothing more than indigestion. My mother probably gave it to him.”
“I’m so glad that’s all it was.”
“Is everything all right there?” she asked as if hearing something in his voice.
He had to tell her. Worse, this would only make her more determined to find the rest of Madeline’s family. Now Kate would be looking for a murderer—as if it hadn’t been dangerous enough before when they were merely looking for a con man or woman.
“You haven’t heard anything from any of the Dunns, have you?” he asked.
“No, why?” She sounded suspicious.
He could understand how she’d made a career as a reporter. “Just wondering. The thing about stirring up hornets is that they often come back to sting you when you least expect it.”
“Have you been stung?” More suspicion. He really needed to get off the line.
“Not yet, but I’ll tell you if I am. Do the same for me, okay?”
“Why not? You’re sure everything is all right there?”
“We can talk when you get back. You must be tired after driving all the way to Helena.”
“I am. But while I’m here, I thought I’d do some digging into the Dunn family, then I’ll be headed back there. You’ll still be around, won’t you? The party Saturday and all? Or whenever.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not going without you.”
“Good. Thanks for calling.”
“Have a good night.”
“You, too.”
He waited until she disconnected first, then held the phone for a few moments longer. She sounded okay. If she’d heard from one of the Dunns she would have told him. He tried to assure himself of that but, knowing Kate, he doubted it. She was too much like him. She liked proving she could take care of herself and that worried the hell out of him because now she was dealing with a murderer.
Instantly he regretted keeping that information from her. She had to know what she was dealing with. He called her right back, but the phone went to voice mail. He hesitated. “Kate.” He was aware of the pleasant feel of her name on his tongue. “Kate,” he said and swallowed. “Madeline’s death wasn’t an accident. She was murdered. Call me.”
He’d barely hung up when his cell rang. Thinking it was Kate, he picked right up. “I’m glad you called me back.”
“Tucker, it’s me, Darby. Lillie is definitely in labor and going to have the baby sometime tonight. Now Mariah seems to be in labor, as well. I have to take her to the hospital. Can you close up the bar for me?”
“I’ll be right there.” He pocketed his phone and headed for the door.
* * *
KATE HAD BEEN so excited to see that she had a message from Tucker. But when she listened to it, she felt as if the ground had buckled under her.
Madeline had been murdered?
That wasn’t possible. Tucker had told her that the coroner said she’d hit her head on a tree limb and died because she’d underestimated the power of the river. That she’d paid the price for her arrogance.
Murdered? She hated the woman but for a moment she was overwhelmed by the waste of it. How many lives had been wasted because of this woman and whoever she was working with? Madeline had lost her life over money and so had Kate’s brother.
She fought the urge to scream, to cry, to feel worse than she had for nineteen years. So now she was looking for a murderer. Did Tucker really think that was going to make her stop? If anything, she was more determined than ever. She wanted to find this nest of vipers and expose them all.
Too bad, though. For years, she’d dreamed of confronting Madeline. But confronting one of her identical sisters would have to do.
“Karma is a bitch,” she said to herself as she thought of Madeline. And then wondered what Tucker’s reaction to the news had been.
* * *
TUCKER WAS IN such a hurry to get to the saloon as he’d promised Darby that he almost didn’t see the note tucked under this wiper blade. He swore and glanced around before he plucked it off.
Whoever had left it had the gall to come onto the ranch? He closed his fist around the note, smelled Madeline’s perfume and swore again as he started to throw the note to the truck floor.
As angry as he was, he knew he had to read it. He unfolded it and quickly read the words. This time, there was no doubt about it. Whoever had written this note wanted him to believe it was Madeline’s girlish flourish. You should run—before things get really rough. Take your girlfriend with you or she’ll be sorry, too.
He tossed the note aside and started his pickup, spraying gravel with the spinning tires as he tore out of the yard. He drove faster than he usually did, anxious to get to the saloon so Darby could get Mariah to the hospital—if they hadn’t already left.
Glancing over at the note, he realized it was time to tell Flint about the threats. This one was definitely that. And it didn’t just threaten him. This time, the writer had mentioned Kate. He thought about calling Flint, but as he came around a curve, he saw red and blue lights flash to his right and swore. A few moments later the sound of a siren filled the spring air as the sheriff’s deputy’s car came after him.
Unable to do anything else, Tucker hit the brakes, pulled over and jumped out, leaving his pickup door open.
“Stay right there!” a deputy ordered as he exited his patrol SUV. “I said stay there.”
Tucker stopped walking toward the officer. “My brother’s wife is in labor. I have to get to—”
“Return to your vehicle,” the deputy ordered.
“You don’t understand. My brother—”
“Sir, back up. Now!” The deputy’s hand went to the gun at his hip.
Tucker did as he was told, even though it was wasting valuable time. He climbed back into the pickup, the deputy on his heels.
“License and registration,” the officer ordered as Tucker put down his window. The name on his uniform read Deputy Harper Cole. Harp? The one his brother had told him about?
Over the years, he’d crossed paths with cops like Harper Cole. They looked for trouble everywhere, believing that most people lied, cheated, stole and broke the law. He suspected Harp was one of them.
Sighing, he pulled out his wallet and handed the deputy his license, then started to reach in the glove box for the registration. He just wanted to get this over with so he could get to the saloon and relieve his brother before the baby was born right there in the bar.
“Don’t move!”
Startled he turned to find the deputy had drawn his gun and was now pointing the barrel end at him.
“Slowly get back out of the truck. Now!”
Tucker felt a shiver of fear snake up his back, but he did as he was told. If this deputy was as incompetent as Flint had insinuated... “Deputy, I’m not sure what’s going on, but my brother is the sheriff and—”
“What’s that?” the deputy demanded as Tucker stood next to his truck, the driver’s-side door standing open, the interior light on.
“What’s that?” He saw the deputy look past him to something in the pickup. Turning, he peered into the truck. His heart dropped like a body off a bridge. Lying on the passenger-side floorboard in clear view was a pistol.
“Step away from your vehicle and keep your hands where I can see them,” the deputy said as he got on his radio for backup.
“What is this about, Officer?” he asked slowly, carefully, as his mind whirled. What was that gun doing on his floorboard? It must have been under the seat and come out when he’d stopped so abruptly. But what was it doing under his seat to begin with?
“That your gun?”
Tucker swore silently. Even from a glance, he knew it was his .22 pistol, the one he’d sold, along with his saddle, all those years ago to give Madeline money.
“I don’t know how it could be since I sold the gun before I left town,” he said.
The deputy’s radio squawked. “Harp?” He recognized his brother’s voice.
“Sheriff, going to need you to meet me on the road from your ranch. I think I just found the murder weapon.”
Tucker swore under his breath but said nothing because he suspected that the deputy was right. Which meant that whoever had killed Madeline had put the gun under his pickup seat to frame him.
He and Kate had stirred up the hornet’s nest and now Tucker had been stung good.
* * *
FLINT COULDN’T BELIEVE what was happening. When it rained, it poured. He’d been thinking that just before Harp’s call. Darby had called to say that Mariah was in labor. Lillie was already in labor. They were all headed for the hospital.
Now Flint turned on the siren as he raced out to the ranch road looking for his deputy. Harp had found the shell casings from the gun that had allegedly killed Madeline. Tests would be done on the slug found lodged in Madeline Dunn’s skull, but the chances that the casings and the slug were from the same gun were more than good.
And now Harp had discovered what he believed to be the murder weapon and was about to make an arrest?
Flint swore. He just hoped the deputy had enough sense to leave whatever he’d discovered where it was. Sometimes Harp could be way too impulsive. Undeniably, he’d been a better deputy over the past months. But he went off half-cocked more times than not in his attempt to be the best deputy ever.
Still, Flint couldn’t help being impressed. Harp had said he wanted to have another look down at the creek and had headed out that way earlier. Maybe there was a lawman in the overgrown kid, after all.
Ahead, he was surprised to see Harp’s patrol SUV—and Tucker’s pickup—parked beside the road. Harp’s lights were flashing. As he drew closer, he saw that Harp appeared to be holding a weapon on his brother. Flint let out a curse, quickly parked and got out.
“What the hell?” he said as he headed for Harp. “Put that gun away. Right now, before you shoot someone.”
Harp looked unfazed. “Sorry, Sheriff, but I picked him up for speeding. He was acting strangely and the next thing I saw was a gun on the floorboard of his pickup. A .22 pistol.”
Flint shook his head. “Holster your weapon right now or—”
With a groan, Harp did as he was ordered.
“Darby called me,” Tucker said. “He needs someone to close up the saloon. I was headed there when...” His voice dropped off.
“You need to see this, Sheriff,” Harp said. At his insistence, Flint stepped to look into his brother’s pickup. A .22 pistol lay on the passenger-side floorboard.
“That’s the gun in question,” Harp said. “The woman was killed with a .22 caliber, right? She was your brother’s girlfriend, who just happened to be blackmailing him at the time...”
Flint regretted having the report typed up for Tucker to sign. Of course Harp would have found out about Tucker’s involvement. He’d wanted all his ducks in a row should anything ever come up about Madeline Dunn’s death. Little did he know at the time that it would turn out to be murder.
“Looks like a slam dunk to me,” Harp was saying. “I know he’s your brother but let’s not forget that he ran nineteen years ago and only came back thinking she was nothing but bones.”
Flint looked from the gun to his brother hoping for some kind of logical explanation. What he saw chilled him to his soul. “Tuck?”
“I think it’s best if I don’t say anything right now,” Tucker said, looking scared.
He swore under his breath. “Okay, Deputy. Get an evidence bag. We’ll take the gun into possession, see if it matches the slug found in the deceased. But what we aren’t going to do is jump to any conclusions until we have the forensics on this gun. Is that agreed?”
Harp looked satisfied as he bagged the weapon to take to the lab. But when the sheriff was about to send Tucker home, he put up an argument.
“Excuse me, sir, I know he’s your brother, but that’s reason enough not to let him go right now. He ran nineteen years ago. What’s to keep him from running now? The only thing you can do under the circumstances is lock him up until we get the results from the lab,” Harper said.
It was all Flint could do not to argue the point. But Harp was right. If it had been anyone but his brother... He met Tucker’s gaze. His brother gave him a look that he’d seen on guilty, scared men too many times. “Fine, lock him up.”
Harp started to pull out his handcuffs.
“You won’t need those,” the sheriff snapped and looked at his brother again. “I’m sure Tucker wants the test results as much as we do, so he’ll come along without any trouble.” His brother looked numb.
“It’s regulation, sir,” Harp said, digging in his heels.
Flint gritted his teeth. “Fine, read him his rights and take him in. But I’m warning you, Harp, you will not parade him through town. Take him straight to the jail. I’ll meet you there.”
Flint would have preferred to take his brother in himself, but if the gun turned out to be the one that had killed Madeline... Not to mention, he had to get to the saloon. There would be an explanation for all of this. Tucker didn’t kill Madeline, of that he was certain. Still, as he watched Harp put his brother into the back of the patrol SUV, he felt sick to his stomach.
He stepped over to the rig and motioned for Harp to put down the back window for a moment. “Don’t say anything. I’ll see you at the jail as soon as I can.”
Harp revved the engine and Flint was forced to step back as the deputy drove away with Tucker handcuffed in the back seat.
* * *
BILLIE DEE NOTICED that Darby’s pickup was gone as she pulled into the back of the Stagecoach Saloon. She’d come by to get a recipe that she’d left in the kitchen this morning, one she wanted to experiment with at home.
The only vehicles were several patrons’ rigs out front, the SUV that Ashley Jo Somerfield drove and Mariah’s motorcycle, which she hadn’t driven since she’d gotten pregnant.
As she entered the back door into the kitchen, she walked toward the front of the saloon. Ashley Jo was waiting on a table of six. There were several regulars at the bar and another table of two.
“Where’s Darby?” she asked when Ashley Jo rushed back to the bar to get one of the regulars a beer.
“The hospital,” she said, sounding winded.
“The baby?”
She nodded.
“Darby left you here alone?” Billie Dee couldn’t believe he would do that.
“He said his brother Tucker was on his way, but I haven’t seen him yet.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll help. Tell me what you need done.”
“That couple over there wanted chili.”
Billie Dee smiled. “I have it covered.” She hurried back down the hall to the kitchen where the chili had been turned on low since she’d left earlier. There was just enough left for two more servings.
The babies were on the way. She couldn’t help but be excited. She felt like part of the Cahill family and had since the first day she’d come to work here.
Gilt Edge, Montana, seemed at the end of the earth when she’d driven her old car through town. She’d planned to keep going on, no place in mind up the road, just making the best of this autumn part of her life as she could.
But as she was leaving, she’d spotted an old stone building with the sign Stagecoach Saloon and Café. Something about the place had drawn her. She’d pulled in and shut off her loud, complaining car engine, thinking she’d have lunch, then get on her way.
That’s when she saw the sign in the window. She’d laughed since she’d been looking for a sign of where she should stay for a while—at least as long as she’d dared. The sign in the old stagecoach window wasn’t the kind of sign she’d been expecting.
But there she was, outside an old mining town in Montana looking at a sign that read Cook Wanted. She didn’t know what could be much clearer than that. She’d hired on and stayed.
She served the chili and refilled water glasses. Behind the bar, she began washing dishes when Flint came in through the back door. He looked upset. Her pulse leaped. Please, don’t let it be bad news about the baby, she said in a silent prayer.
“Is it Mariah?” she asked quietly.
He shook his head. “No, I just heard. She’s fine. Lillie’s fine. They’re both at the hospital, both in labor.”
Billie Dee had to laugh. Lillie had said that she and Mariah were going to have their babies together. Apparently she’d been right. “We can handle things here if you need to get back to the hospital,” she said to the sheriff.
Flint touched her arm, giving her a thankful smile.
“You look worried.” She hadn’t meant to just blurt it out like that.
“It’s Tucker. He’s been arrested for murder. It will be all over town soon.”
“Murder?” She dropped her voice lower. “Who did he kill?”
“No one. But he was in possession of a gun that I suspect killed Madeline Dunn, the woman he was having an affair with. If it turns out to be his...well, it could be bad.”
Billie Dee clamped a hand over her mouth for a moment, her eyes filling with tears as she thought of the big handsome cowboy and how happy his family had been to have him home. “I’m so sorry. If there is anything I can do...”
“You’re doing it. Just close up here as soon as you can since everyone is going to be at the hospital. Come there as soon as you can. I know they are going to want to see you. I’m going to stop by the hospital, then go see Tucker at the jail.”
Ashley Jo had joined them moments before. Now she watched Flint leave. “Was that the sheriff?”
“Flint Cahill, Darby’s brother.”
“Is everything all right?” Ashley Jo asked.
“Let’s hope so.”
* * *
FLINT STOPPED BY the hospital to make sure Lillie and Mariah were doing fine. He spotted his wife the moment he walked in.
Maggie rushed to him. “No babies yet. They’re both in labor, though, and their husbands are with them.” She hugged him and he held her tight for a moment. Soon they both would be here and Maggie would be giving birth to their first child. He couldn’t wait.
“I better get down to the jail.”
“Tonight?”
“It’s a long story, but Tucker has been arrested.”
“No. What did he do?”
Flint wished he knew. “Harp pulled him over for speeding and saw a gun on the floor of the cab...” He met his wife’s gaze. “It could be the gun that killed Madeline Dunn.”
Maggie shook her head. “I’m sure he didn’t do it. You said he loved her. Probably still loves her.”
The sheriff nodded, but he kept remembering the day his older brother had walked into his office ready to give himself up for Madeline’s death. Tucker had been as shocked as anyone to learn that the coroner at that time believed her death to be an unfortunate accident.
“He’s carrying a lot of guilt over her death,” Flint said. “He’s been trying to find her family. I thought it was just about getting closure. Now I’m not so sure.”
“That’s the doctor going into Mariah’s room. I have to go,” Maggie said. “I don’t want to miss this birth. Oh, no, it looks like the nurse is looking for the other doctor on call for Lillie.” His wife smiled. “Two babies are about to come into this world. Didn’t Lillie say they would give birth together?”
Flint laughed. “If anyone can make something like that happen, it’s my sister.”
“She can’t hear about Tucker,” Maggie said.
He nodded. “I’ll check back in a little while.” With that, he left and drove to the jail, dreading what he feared Tucker was going to tell him.
* * *
TUCKER WAS AWAKE, lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He’d been trying not to think about the trouble he was in or how bad it might get before it was over. He sat up when he saw Flint.
“Did you get your one call?” his brother asked.
He shook his head. “I wanted to talk to you and I knew you were busy. Did Lillie and Mariah have their babies?”
“We should hear soon. You need to call a lawyer.”
Tucker nodded. “It’s my gun. I saw the scratch on the grip. But you know I sold it before I left.”
“So how did it end up in your pickup?”
He shook his head. “Don’t you think I’ve been asking myself that? Someone had to have put it there and I can think of only one reason why they would do that.”
Flint raked a hand through his hair. “What are you saying?”
Tucker looked into his brother’s eyes, gray eyes so like his own. “Someone wants me to go down for her murder.”
“It might not be the gun that killed Madeline,” Flint said, clearly clutching at straws.
“If it’s mine, then it’s registered to me. If it matches the slug you found embedded in her skull...” Tucker looked away. “You were right. I shouldn’t have gone looking for her family. Stirring up the past must have rattled someone.” He told his brother about the notes that had been left on his pickup and where there were now.
“Don’t worry. I’ll find out who killed her. In the meantime...”
“I can’t stay behind bars,” Tucker said.
“It’s the best place for you right now. Anyway, it will be up to a judge to set bail, if you are allowed bail at all. This is a homicide. I’m afraid there is nothing I can do. Harp was right. You leaving all those years ago... It doesn’t look good. The judge will think you’re a flight risk.”
Tucker swore. “I didn’t kill her.”
“I know that. I want you to call a lawyer in the morning. If you need some names—”
“I will take that one call now,” Tucker said, getting to his feet.
Flint glanced at his watch and frowned. “At this hour?”
He nodded. “Just give me my phone. I don’t even have to get out of my cell.”
Flint looked worried but he left to return with the phone. “I’ll give you a minute.”
The moment the sheriff stepped away, Tucker called Kate.