CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
BO FOLLOWED JACE from the moonlit camp into the darkness of the pines, half expecting that any moment she would wake up and this would have been nothing more than a dream.
What were the chances that Jace Calder would be the one to save her, given how she’d hurt him? She must have been hallucinating. Maybe Ray had stabbed her, and this was some subconscious fantasy. If she was dying, it made sense that she would think of Jace—and her biggest regret. Or this could be a nightmare in which things got even worse.
She stumbled as she trudged through the pines and almost fell. When she looked up, she didn’t see Jace. Even when he appeared out of the trees for a moment, she thought it was Ray and all of this really was just delirium.
Jace had stopped ahead of her to wait. She’d tried to keep up with the long-legged cowboy, but she felt as if she was moving through quicksand. When she reached him, he didn’t move for a long moment. She could tell he was listening.
Fear coiled again inside her. She was far from rescued. Ray Spencer was still out there. An eerie quiet had fallen over the night. She listened, terrified that Ray was tracking them like a mad dog. But all she could hear was the thunder of her pulse in her ears and the sound of the ground cover under them as they began walking again.
An owl hooted from a nearby limb, startling her. She stumbled on a root and fell face-first into the dirt. Jace quickly hoisted her to her feet.
“Try to stay up,” he whispered, impatience and worry in every line of his body.
She nodded. But exhaustion, lack of food and fear had left her limbs as weak as water. She wasn’t sure how much farther she could go.
Just when she thought she couldn’t take another step, she heard a horse nicker nearby. Fear spiked through her. What if it was her horse and Ray was waiting for them?
But ahead, Jace moved to a large bay horse tied to a tree. Swinging up in the saddle, he rode over to a downed log and reached for her. “Now,” he snapped. She stepped up on the log and he helped pull her up behind him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she held on as he reined the horse around.
“We’re not going after him, right?” she had to ask.
“No. We’re going to try to get out of these mountains before he finds us.”
“Maybe he’s dead. Or running away. He knows you have a gun. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to come after us.” She knew she was voicing her hopes, but still she wanted Jace to agree with her.
Instead, he said nothing. She leaned into him and closed her eyes. Numb, she let the rocking of the horse lull her into an exhausted sleep.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, Emily was glad to drop Jodie off at day care where she knew she would be safe. By the time Emily had gone to Big Timber Java for her first coffee break of the day she had almost put the break-in out of her mind.
She hadn’t realized how glad she was to see Alex Ross until he came out of the back and flashed her a smile. She saw him look past her to the street outside and frown.
Turning in her chair, she followed his gaze in time to see a battered large old dark-colored car go by. When she turned back, Alex was no longer frowning. He was looking at her, his eyes shiny and bright as he walked toward her.
“You should know I went to jail for a while,” she said when he joined her with two cups of coffee.
“Do you always blurt out details about your past?” he asked with a laugh.
“I’ve found it’s best to be honest. It’s taken me a while to learn that.”
“I’d heard.” She should know that news in a small town moved faster than mouth.
“And you still asked me out?”
Alex grinned shyly. “I like you.”
“You don’t know me. Aren’t you curious why I went to jail?”
“Tell me if you want. But you don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable.”
Uncomfortable? It embarrassed her, made her feel stupid, and made her worry that no nice man would ever be interested in her.
“I had this boyfriend.”
He chuckled. “I already don’t like it.”
“Yeah. I was on my way to work that morning. I was waitressing at this dive of a diner. Anyway, Harrison, that was his name, asked me to give him a ride.”
She went on to explain that he’d wanted her to stop in front of a jewelry store. She’d actually thought the jerk was going in to get her a ring to ask her to marry him.
That was until he came running out and she heard the wail of an alarm go off and he told her to drive!
She’d been young and foolish. Part of Harrison’s appeal had been that he was dangerous. She never knew what he was going to do next, so it wasn’t a big surprise that he’d also been moody and abusive one minute and sweet the next. She never knew which Harrison would come through the door.
“Where is he now?”
“Prison. He’s not supposed to get out for a few more years.”
“Is he Jodie’s father?” Alex asked.
She hadn’t remembered telling him her daughter’s name. “No. That’s another story.”
A weighty silence fell between them. “You’re having second thoughts, aren’t you?” she asked.
He looked up in surprise. “No, I was just thinking how strong you are. To have lived through all of that, and look at you now.”
His words knocked her off balance. “I don’t feel like I’ve accomplished anything yet.”
“You’re wrong. I’ve seen you with your daughter. You’re a great mom, and you have a good job.”
She eyed him warily. “I’m sorry, but when anyone is nice to me, I start looking for their motives.”
He laughed. “I only have one agenda. I want to get to know you. That’s it.”
Still she eyed him skeptically. She considered telling him about the break-in at her house but hesitated. She didn’t want him to think she was the kind of girl who knew the kind of men who would break into her house—even though she was.
Alex had to take a call, so Emily finished her coffee and went back to work. The foundation office was like a morgue with everyone waiting to see if they even had a job when Bo returned. Her mind miles away, Emily didn’t notice the old brown car parked down the block or the man sitting behind the wheel.
* * *
RUSSELL HATED THAT he woke up thinking about Buckmaster Hamilton. The man was adored by thousands, soon maybe millions. So wasn’t it possible that Russell was wrong about the senator? His dislike for the man was based on nothing but speculation, admittedly. He’d never even given the man a thought—until the senator’s first wife suddenly appeared in front of his pickup.
It all came down to why Sarah had tried to kill herself. It had to have been because Buckmaster had done something. True, public opinion had sympathized with the senator. The consensus was that Sarah probably had postpartum depression, but her disappearing from her children’s lives had most people suspecting an underlying mental problem.
One reporter in particular, Chuck Barrow, from the Herald, had tagged her a bad mother for leaving behind her six daughters all these years. He questioned how long postpartum depression—if that was what it was—could be blamed.
The rest of the media had followed suit, making her sound deranged, especially given that she said she couldn’t recall the past twenty-two years.
But they didn’t know her, Russell argued with himself.
He had always considered himself a fair man. What did he really know about Sarah and Buckmaster’s marriage? Nothing. When it came to marriage, only the two people in the marriage knew what really went on behind closed doors, he reminded himself.
He remembered when he was in high school and his fiftysomething teacher, Margaret Winslow, disappeared. Everyone talked about how her husband, Ed, had doted on her and wondered how he would be able to make it without her if, God forbid, something terrible had happened to her.
No one suspected foul play—especially from Ed. Nor could anyone believe she might have run away or committed suicide.
They found Margaret’s car two hundred miles away, abandoned on a lonely stretch of gravel road in the middle of nowhere. They found her body twenty yards from it, the gun she’d used to blow her brains out lying next to her body. The suicide note was tucked in her underwear.
It read, “Don’t blame Ed. I’m the one at fault. He deserved a better wife.”
It wasn’t until the autopsy that the truth came out. Margaret was covered with bruises, some new, some old. She’d suffered numerous broken bones, many that had healed on their own. Ed had been beating her for years, leaving more scars than the ones hidden under her clothing. The woman must have been in horrible pain most of her married life before she couldn’t take anymore and killed herself.
Russell thought of his own marriage. He would have said that after more than forty years, he knew Judy. But how well had he really known her? Did she have secrets she never told him? Desires she never expressed? Regrets and disappointments she’d kept bottled up?
He wondered what secrets were locked in Sarah Hamilton’s brain. Whatever they were, they had something to do with Buckmaster Hamilton. Russell would stake his life on that. What had the man done to drive his wife to attempted suicide and into exile for the past twenty-two years?
If that’s what had happened to her. Russell still believed that the person who had secreted her away after her failed suicide attempt was her not-so-loving husband, never dreaming she would ever escape.
But she hadn’t just escaped. Someone had helped her return, he reminded himself. He had trouble believing she’d parachuted back into Beartooth. But apparently she had. So whoever had assisted her...
Who had those kind of resources? Senator Buckmaster Hamilton.
Russell shook his head. Or maybe someone just as powerful who didn’t want the senator to win the presidential race?
His head ached from trying to figure out what had happened all those years ago. If he was right, though, Buckmaster had a lot to fear when Sarah finally remembered. He wondered what the senator was thinking now. Did he believe Sarah didn’t remember? Or did he live in fear that she would remember and destroy his political career?
What had driven a mother of six daughters to suicide? Unfortunately, the only way they would ever know was if Sarah remembered.
“Can you talk about what you’re remembering?” he’d asked Sarah recently.
She’d looked up. He’d seen the denial in her expression before she even opened her mouth. “I’m not...” She’d swallowed, and her gaze had locked with his. “They don’t make any sense. They’re just dark...images.” She’d shuddered. “Nightmares without any basis in reality.”
“I know they scare you, but don’t push the memories away, if you can help it. You need to remember.”
Her smile had been full of sadness. “Do I?”
“Yes. Sarah, you have to remember before your...” He had been going to say husband, but Senator Buckmaster Hamilton was sharing another woman’s bed, had another wife, the one he’d replaced her with. “Before Buckmaster wins the Republican presidential nomination. If I’m right about him, you can’t let him become president.”
He was more convinced than ever that Buckmaster Hamilton had been behind Sarah’s disappearance and memory loss. But he still didn’t have proof.
Buckmaster was pushing for Sarah to move onto the Hamilton Ranch. All the polls had the man leading in the race for the Republican nomination and taking the presidency by a landslide.
What if there was only one person who could keep that from happening? He reminded himself that Sarah was still in love with the man. But once she remembered...
Russell could feel the clock ticking.
* * *
“WHAT’S WRONG?” NETTIE ASKED when her husband came through the door. She could tell by the slump of his shoulders that it wasn’t just the hour that had him dragging.
The sheriff shook his head as he lowered himself into a chair. “I’m just tired.”
“Frank,” she said as she sat down across from him and took both of his big hands in hers. “It’s more than being tired. What are you so worried about? Tiffany?” When he was down, the cause was often thoughts of his deranged daughter who had tried to kill him. Fortunately she was safely locked up where she couldn’t hurt anyone else.
“No,” he said with a sigh. “She’s someone else’s problem now. I’m riding up in the Crazies in the morning with search and rescue to look for Bo Hamilton and Jace Calder. Apparently he went looking for her and neither has been heard from since.” He met her gaze. “There’s a chance an escaped killer is up in those same mountains.”
“You think they crossed paths?”
“I certainly hope not. It’s big country. But it’s odd that neither Bo or Jace has returned when Jace went up there with every intention of bringing her back.”
Nettie shook her head as she studied the man she’d loved since she was a teen. “But that isn’t what’s really worrying you.”
He opened his mouth as if to deny it, then seemed to stop himself. “It’s one of my other cases. Hell, it’s not really a case just my own investigation, and I can’t get it out of my mind. Now I’m starting to question myself.”
“What do your instincts tell you?”
“That no matter what the state crime boys or the FBI says, I should keep investigating.”
She let go of his hands to sit back and study him. Her first thought was, Frank, what have you gotten involved in? But while she might worry about having a sheriff for a husband, she’d known when she married him that he was a lawman through and through. “If your instincts tell you to keep investigating, then you should. It must be something big for you to be this worried.”
His smile was sad. “You know I can’t tell you.”
“Even if it isn’t an official investigation?” Before he could answer, she laughed and said, “You don’t have to tell me. I already know. It’s Sarah Hamilton, isn’t it?”
“Lynette—”
“I’m no fool, Frank. Don’t you think I question why she came back right after the senator announced his candidacy for president?”
“It could be just a coincidence.”
“Posh! A woman who claims she doesn’t remember the past twenty-two years?” Nettie shook her head. “You need to watch her like a hawk. She’s hiding something, mark my words, and it’s more than some weird tattoo on her skinny ass.”
He laughed. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”
“If you’re just trying to change the subject—”
“I’m not,” he said and leaned back, looking more relaxed than he had in months. “I trust your instincts if not my own lately. You’ve been right about so many things.”
But not everything. She’d married the wrong man all those years ago. She ached to turn back the clock to relive all those wasted years that she could have been with Frank. She was with him now, though, she reminded herself, and she was worried about him.
“Why do I feel as if it is more than worrying about what Sarah Hamilton is hiding?” she asked.
He shook his head, then seemed to change his mind as if there was something he needed to get off his chest. “I’ve always gone by the book. But a few months ago, I took evidence without a warrant to get a suspect’s DNA. That’s not like me. I keep thinking it’s time for me to retire and let Dillon and Jamison take over.”
She shook her head. “If you stepped down tomorrow, would you quit worrying about Sarah Hamilton? That is who we’re talking about, right?”
He laughed, a sound that warmed her heart. “If only that’s all it would take.”
“Then stop talking nonsense. I’ve never understood our legal system anyway. Everyone but the crooks and killers has to follow the rules. Don’t you see something wrong with that?”
He smiled. “The problem is that I swore to uphold the law. If I can’t do that anymore...”
Nettie hated to hear him talking like this. She knew her husband. This kind of talk scared her. “What is it you’re so afraid is going to happen?”
Again he met her gaze. She felt a chill as he said, “I don’t believe that Buckmaster Hamilton will ever see the Oval Office.”
“Sarah coming back doesn’t seem to have affected his popularity. If anything, people admire the way he’s handled it, and others feel sorry for him. But you aren’t talking about him losing the election.”
Frank shook his head. “Unless something drastic happens, he’ll win the election. It’s Sarah. I know it sounds crazy, but if I’m right, she’s not working alone. I think her...mission is to stop him, one way or the other.”
For a moment, Nettie was speechless. “Her mission? You make her sound like she’s a paid assassin.”
He said nothing.
“Frank, why would she want to kill him?”
“I have no idea.”