CHAPTER FIVE
IT WAS JUST after 3:00 a.m. when Henry sneaked out of the house. He’d parked his car in a spot where he could coast down the hill before he had to start the engine. The last thing he wanted was to be caught sneaking out by his grown sons. He didn’t need questions he didn’t want to answer.
Once on the road to town, he headed for the small house Billie Dee rented. He’d hoped she would open up to him during their date about what was going on with her, but he should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. All those mornings over coffee at her kitchen table, he’d come to know how stubbornly independent she was. Not to mention, Billie Dee wasn’t the kind of woman who ever complained—no matter what was going on in her life.
The snow had stopped falling, leaving the small western town of Gilt Edge blanketed in silent white. There were no other cars on the road this time of the night. Stars and a nearly full moon made this night world sparkle like the inside of a snow globe.
He parked a block away, got out and walked down the quiet street toward Billie Dee’s house. As he did, he thought about their date earlier and smiled to himself. She was exactly what he needed at this point in his life. He just hoped he was what she needed. He couldn’t bear the thought of letting her down.
The snow was untracked along the sidewalk across from her house. But as he neared the spot where he’d seen the man earlier, he saw the boot prints in the snow. Whoever had stood here had stayed around for a while. The man’s feet must have gotten cold because he’d moved around some as if trying to warm them up.
Henry looked across at the house Billie Dee rented. It sat away from the other houses on this tree-lined street. There was a dim light on toward the back. The bedroom? Was she having trouble sleeping? He suspected that was the case, not that he could blame her. He’d seen her expression when she’d looked past him tonight and seen the man in the shadows watching her house. Watching her.
It was time he met the man, he thought as he glanced again at the snow-covered sidewalk and the tracks that led off down the street.
As a cloud passed over the moon, dimming the snowy night, he took out his phone and photographed the tracks. The boot tread was distinct, and there was enough shadow in each that the tracks came out well enough to identify them if needed in the future.
The tracks had only a little fresh snow in them, which meant the man had come back after the storm had moved on. Henry was thankful for that since the tracks the man had left near the trees hadn’t filled with falling snow.
And that made them easy to follow.
* * *
BILLIE DEE PUT down the book she’d been trying to read. She’d gone over the same sentence four times. Clearly reading wasn’t going to help. Getting up, she padded barefoot into the kitchen and, without turning on a light, opened the refrigerator to peer in.
She knew it wasn’t food that she needed. Sleep would be nice, but while she’d managed to drift off earlier, something had awakened her. She’d gotten up to check the doors and windows. All locked. Nor had there been any sound in the house other than the pounding of her heart.
Since then, though, she hadn’t been able to get back to sleep.
Grabbing a bottle of water, she closed the refrigerator door and walked toward the dark living room. She’d left the front drapes open after she’d turned out the lights earlier. It had been snowing so hard she hadn’t been able to tell if the man she’d seen across the street was still there in the trees.
Friend or foe? she wondered. If foe, she hoped he had been freezing out there. Maybe Alex was right and someone had sent a marshal to keep an eye on her. More likely, if the man was a marshal, he was here to try to catch Barnes in the act—just as she suspected.
At the window, she looked out, surprised that it had quit snowing. The moon peeked out from behind a cloud, making the snow glitter like mega-millions of diamonds.
At moments like this, she loved Montana winters. It was when she was trying to get to work, sweeping and scraping snow off the car windows or plowing through it and trying not to get stuck, that she hated winters here. She’d never lived anywhere before where it snowed. Right now, it felt mystical and spiritual and awe-inspiring, and it took her back to all those years she’d spent in church believing in something bigger than herself.
She really did need sleep given the route her mind had just taken. Unscrewing the cap, she took a sip of the water and saw him.
At first she thought it was the man she’d seen watching her house. Not that she’d gotten a good look at him in the shadows of the trees. But he’d been average height and breadth. This man coming out of the trees along the sidewalk was much larger. He walked with a confident gait because of his long legs. There were broad shoulders beneath his canvas coat and—
Henry? She practically spewed the water out. What was Henry doing across the street from her house at... She glanced at the clock on the wall. After three in the morning?
But as she watched him, she knew. He was following tracks in the snow. Her mind raced, but for only a moment. She’d known it. He’d seen the man watching her house. That was what he was doing back here. He was looking for the man!
Dropping the bottled water on the coffee table, she raced to the door, pulled on her coat and boots over her pajamas, and rushed out. Henry, her cowboy protector. She was touched but terrified. He had no idea what he was getting himself into. She couldn’t let him do this. Who knew how dangerous the man was who’d been staking out her house. The thought of Henry getting hurt or worse...
Moving as fast as she could in the ankle-deep snow, she went after him.
* * *
HENRY FEARED THAT the tracks would only lead him to where a vehicle had been parked a few blocks away.
But he got lucky. The tracks kept going for four blocks. He looked up to take in the neighborhood as the tracks appeared to end at a main street. Earlier traffic had cut four distinct tire tracks through the snow. At the sound of a truck coming up the street, he stepped back to keep from getting soaked by the dirty slush the vehicle’s tires churned up.
The night went silent again as the truck passed. He considered which way the man might have gone and spotted the distinct boot tracks again—this time in the middle of the street where the snow was untouched by vehicle traffic.
Across the street he saw a motel sign. He quickly crossed to pick up the boot prints again. They led him straight to one of the numbered motel units. Number eleven.
A car was parked in front of the unit and there were only a few cars in front of the others. He had to assume this one belonged to the man inside the room. He stepped to it, cleared enough snow off to peer inside. The car was so clean inside, he figured it must be a rental. He memorized the plate number anyway.
Standing there, he debated if he should pound on the door or—
“Henry?”
He turned in surprise. He hadn’t heard anyone behind him. Snow had that ability to quiet things down. Still, he realized that he needed to watch his back more. Billie Dee was the last person he expected to see standing there. “What are you doing here?”
“That’s exactly what I was going to ask you.” She looked from him to the motel-room door behind him.
He stepped toward her to take hold of her arm and lead her a few yards farther from the door. But she shrugged off his hold, her eyes wide with not just curiosity but suspicion.
“Let’s not talk about this here,” he said, keeping his voice down.
She looked again from him to the motel-room door. He saw her expression change. “You followed the man here who you saw watching my house.”
He nodded. “I was worried about you.”
Billie Dee let out an exasperated breath. “What were you planning to do? Just knock on his door and then what?”
“I hadn’t gotten that far.”
She shook her head. “What if he is dangerous?”
“Is he? Do you know who the man is, Billie Dee?”
* * *
SHE COULDN’T BELIEVE THIS. “How would I know?” she demanded.
When he said nothing, she realized that he thought she knew more than she was telling him. Well, at least that much was true.
“I don’t know who the man is, all right?” she said defensively.
“Could we go back to your house and talk about this rather than standing out here?”
She looked toward the motel-room door again, then back at him and sighed. “I don’t want you getting involved in this.”
“I am involved.” This time when his fingers closed gently around her arm, she let him lead her away from the motel and back up the street to her house.
Once inside, she kicked off her boots, hung her coat up and padded into the kitchen to make coffee. She was running scared and she feared that Henry knew it. Her mind spun like a top. What he’d done tonight tracking down the man... She couldn’t let him get involved in this.
With coffee brewing, she finally took a breath and turned to find him standing in stocking feet beside the kitchen island. He hadn’t said a word as if he knew to give her time to think. She studied his gentle face, amazed to realize that this man knew her maybe better than she knew herself. Was she that transparent?
“I don’t know where to start,” she said, realizing that she couldn’t lie to him.
“Start wherever you want. We have the rest of the night.”
They took cups of hot coffee into the living room. She closed the drapes, and they sat at opposite ends of the couch, facing each other. She pulled her feet under her and covered herself with a quilt. She’d forgotten that all she’d been wearing under her coat was cotton pajamas.
“I was working at a small restaurant in downtown Houston. I always liked staying late, having the kitchen to myself after everyone went home. That night I got involved looking through some of my old recipes and didn’t realize how late it was. As I was leaving, a car pulled up across the street. There was another car parked a few cars up. I hadn’t known there was a man in the second car until he got out and started walking back as if to talk to the man who’d just pulled up. It wasn’t until the first man I’d seen got out that I saw the gun. I hadn’t realized that I’d stopped walking and was just stupidly standing there watching.” She shook her head.
Henry said nothing, silently encouraging her to continue.
“The streets were narrow, so I could see both of their faces as the one man gunned the other one down. When the shooter turned back toward his car, he saw me. He raised his gun. I tried to run but the bullet...” She stopped to touch the scar beneath her hair. “I don’t remember much after that until I woke up in the hospital. I’m sure he thought I was dead since I’d been found in a pool of blood. The doctor said a head wound like mine would have bled a lot.”
“But you remembered? No loss of memory?”
“Just my luck,” Billie Dee said. “When the police came to me, I was able to identify both men—the dead one and the shooter. Both of their photos had been in the newspapers and on television since both were well-known criminals.”
“So the Justice Department offered you the witness protection program if you testified,” he said.
She nodded. “They had guards posted outside my hospital room and when I was released they put me in a safe house. Except it turned out not to be so safe. Gary Barnes is a cold-blooded killer. I know better than anyone what he is capable of. He got to me when I was waiting in the safe house for my WITSEC new identity. He had his hands around my throat. Fortunately, a marshal broke in and pulled him off me. But as Barnes was being led away, he said that he would find me and kill me and no one would be able to stop him. I believe him.”
“But you managed to get away from him twice.”
“The marshal who’d been guarding me wasn’t so lucky. I was in the kitchen of the safe house when Barnes sneaked up behind me and grabbed me around the throat. I remember the feel of his breath at my ear. I did manage to fight him off for a moment. I stabbed him with a fork that was lying on the counter, but he was on me again before I could get away. If the guard hadn’t come running when he did, Barnes would have strangled me.”
“You’re amazing.”
She shook her head at the admiration she saw in his gaze. “I was terrified, acting only on instinct.”
“There is nothing wrong with instinct.”
“Too bad it isn’t going to save me this time. I testified, but Barnes just got out on some technicality. So my testifying was a waste of time. Not that it would have made a difference. He would still have come after me. He isn’t a let-loose-ends-go kind of guy. Now you understand why you can’t be involved.”
Henry had taken all this quite well, she realized. “So who do you think the man is watching your house?”
“Alex, my former handler, says it could be a marshal sent to protect me from higher up and out of his pay grade. If that were the case, I suspect he is more likely here hoping to catch Barnes in the act.”
“So you think he’s a US marshal.”
She shrugged. “You were about to find out the hard way if you’d knocked on that door tonight.”
He smiled at that.
“You’re taking all of this a little too well,” she said, eyeing him suspiciously.
“I have a confession.”
Billie Dee pulled the quilt around her, suddenly cold. “If you tell me you know Gary Barnes—”
“I’ve known men like him, but no, I haven’t met Barnes. Not yet, anyway.”
“Henry—”
“Remember earlier when I said there is often more to people than you think?”
She nodded, afraid of what he would say next.
“I can handle this for you,” he said.
“Handle it? I don’t understand,” Billie Dee said on a ragged breath.
“I served in the armed forces in a special operations group that was highly secretive and trained for this sort of thing.”
She looked into his eyes. She’d thought he was a retired rancher. She’d never dreamed... “You were trained to stop a man like Gary Barnes?”
He nodded as he reached across the space between them on the couch and took her hand. “I can help you. Trust me?”
“With my life. But I don’t want you involved. I can’t bear the thought...” Her voice broke.
He moved to her, and taking her face in his big hands, he said, “I already told you. I am involved.” And then he kissed her.