Chapter Ten
C.J. couldn’t believe that she felt guilty about losing Boone McGraw. There was someplace she needed to go without him. When she was a girl and Hank was teaching her the PI business from the ground floor up, as he liked to call it, he would leave her messages in an old building uptown. She had looked back on those days, thinking it was charming, the cute things he came up with to keep her busy and out of his hair.
It had been years since he’d left anything for her at this particular place, but after everything that had happened, she felt she needed to check it.
And check it without Boone. He’d already learned too much about her and Hank. She was sure by now that he thought Hank had been dirty—how else could all those stocks and bonds at the bank be explained? That he’d saved that much from his PI practice? Not a chance.
She couldn’t stand the thought of an investigation into Hank because of her. Boone swore that all he was interested in was finding his sister. She prayed that was true. Still, she thought as she walked the last block to the old building, she couldn’t have Boone tagging along. Not right now. Hank had been in trouble or he wouldn’t be dead right now, no matter what the police thought.
The building was abandoned like so many in Butte. She was just glad to see it still standing. One of these days it would either crumble and fall down or someone would come along and tear it down. Her heart ached at the thought of the memories that would go with it—not to mention the beautiful structure it had once been.
She climbed the steps to the wide double doors, now chained and padlocked, then stepped into the alcove to the right. At one time, there had been a fountain with water sprouting from the mouth of the ancient-looking stone face. But that had been years before C.J. herself. For as long as she could remember, the mouth had been dry like the bowl shape under it.
Today there were leaves and garbage in the bowl that used to catch the fresh water. She wished she’d brought a bag so she could clean it out, then reminded herself why she was there. She couldn’t save this place. She wasn’t even sure she could save herself if Boone was right and she was Hank’s beneficiary. If her partner in business had gotten all that money from something illegal...
Reaching into the mouth, she felt grit and nothing else. Then her fingers brushed something cold. She touched it tentatively before she pulled out the small package. It was wrapped in plastic.
Seeing it, she began to cry. Hank knew her so well and vice versa. With trembling fingers, she saw the thumb drive protected inside the plastic cover and stuffed it into her pocket, her heart in her throat.
* * *
AFTER CUSSING AND carrying on for a while, Boone drove down random streets looking for her. Clearly there was someplace she’d wanted to go without him. Or maybe she’d just wanted to be alone.
That thought struck him hard. He’d seen how upset she’d been after finding the stocks and bonds at the bank. Didn’t it make more sense to give her some space? He pulled over, parked and spent the next hour learning as much as he could about PI Hank Knight and his partner.
Everywhere he went, he heard nothing but praise about Hank and respect for C.J. The two were well-known around town as do-gooders. People liked them. People had been helped by them.
So where had all that loot come from? Hank had to be into something illegal. Perhaps a baby ring. The thought that Jesse Rose could have been one of the babies set his teeth on edge. C.J. knew more than she was telling him. Once he found her again...
He’d just driven down one of the main streets in uptown Butte, when he spotted her VW van and went roaring after her, riding her bumper. He cursed himself as C.J. whipped across two lanes of traffic on Montana Avenue and came to a tire-screaming stop at the curb. Before he could pull in behind her, she was already out of her van and storming toward him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.
He wished he knew. He wanted to throttle this woman or kiss her. Right now, he wasn’t sure which and that said a lot about his frustration.
“I have no idea what I hope to accomplish by hanging around Butte—let alone tailing a junior PI who can’t investigate her way out of a paper bag.”
Hands on her hips, she glared at him. “What did you just call me? A junior PI who can’t investigate her way out of a paper bag?” she demanded indignantly.
“Prove me wrong. Help me find my sister.”
She glared at him for a full minute. “I told you what I’m doing. Trying to find my partner’s killer.”
“How are you doing on that?”
C.J. narrowed her eyes at him. “There is one more place I need to look. I’m assuming you plan to come along?”
“You’re assuming right. We walking or taking my truck?”
She looked as if she could spit nails. “We’re taking my van since you don’t know where we’re going.” With that, she spun on her heel and headed for her van. He took a few deep breaths himself before following her.
Once behind the wheel with the van engine revved, she peeled out into the street and roared down the hill. Uptown Butte was a rollercoaster of steep streets. After a few blocks, she swung into a parking spot in front of one of Butte’s historic buildings.
He climbed out after her and headed for the front door. C.J., he realized belatedly, was headed down the alley between the two buildings. The alley was just wide enough to walk down. It was cool and dark.
“Where—”
“If you’re determined to tag along,” she said over her shoulder, “then no questions.”
Halfway down the long alley, she stopped at an old weathered padlocked door. Pulling out a set of keys, she opened the padlock and swung the door open.
Boone peered down a dark narrow concrete hallway, a musty, dank smell wafting out. He didn’t like the looks of this.
“Close the door behind you,” she ordered and stepped in.
He hesitated but only a moment before following her. Their footsteps echoed on the damp concrete. The smell got much worse as the passage became more tunnel-like.
She made a sharp right, then a left, then another right. He tried to keep track, telling himself he might need directions to get out of here. It crossed his mind that she might be leading him into a trap. If she and her partner were in league...
Boone realized that he’d lost track of the twists and turns. He was screwed if he had to get out of here by himself. If he was that lucky.
C.J. stopped and he almost crashed into her in the dim light. He heard the jingle of keys again. “Hold this,” she ordered as she dug a flashlight from her shoulder bag and handed it to him.
He held the light on another padlock and few seconds later, she was entering yet another narrow passage.
“Where the—” He didn’t get the rest of the words out as she turned on him.
“Shh,” she snapped and was off again.
He had no choice but to go with her. If he thought she’d been leading him on a wild-goose chase earlier, he’d been wrong. But this definitely felt like she was fooling with him.
The next padlock opened into a room filled with file cabinets. She flipped on a light switch and for a moment he was blinded by the overhead bulb.
C.J. had stopped just inside the door.
“What?” he asked.
“Hank didn’t leave anything in here.”
He stared at her. “You haven’t even looked.”
“Come on,” she said, turning and starting for the door.
“No, wait, we came all this way, why not—”
“The dust.”
“What?”
“Didn’t you notice the dust on the floor?”
He couldn’t say he had.
“Hank hasn’t been in that room in months.”
“Based on a little dust.”
She glared at him in the ambient glow of the flashlight. “I’m just a junior PI who can’t investigate my way out of a paper bag, but yes, that’s my conclusion. I don’t just jump to conclusions without facts.”
“Really? And why all this subterfuge? What was it your partner did that he not only had to hide his files, but that he made a ton of money from?”
She gave him an impatient look before turning and heading down a different tunnel than the one they’d come in from. She had the flashlight. He had no choice but to follow her.
They came to a narrow stairway that wound up a couple of stories and the next thing he knew they were standing outside in the sunlight.
He glanced around, trying to get his bearings. The tall brick buildings that had rivaled New York City now just looked sad, so many of them empty. They had come out not that far from the Berkeley Pit, a huge hole that was now full of bad water. Butte was now the butt of jokes, a decaying relic of better times.
“I don’t know where else to look,” she said, sounding disheartened. “I need a hot shower. You aren’t going to insist on coming along for that, are you?”
It was late afternoon. The sun had sunk behind the mountains to the west. Dark shadows fell across the streets and a cold wind whipped between the buildings. Butte had fallen on hard times, especially the old uptown, and yet there was a quiet elegance to it. He wished he had seen it during its heyday. He was feeling a little nostalgic and disheartened himself.
“I’m sure it is all going to make sense at some point,” he said.
Her smile was sad. She looked close to tears. He wanted to take her in his arms. But if he did, he knew he’d kiss her. He realized looking at her now that she had a bow-shaped mouth that just begged to be kissed.
“A hot shower sounds great. Back at my motel,” he added, thinking a cold one might even be called for. “If you wouldn’t mind dropping me at my truck.”
* * *
BACK AT HER HOUSE, C.J. closed and locked the door behind her. She kept thinking of Boone. For a moment back there on the sidewalk, the sun slanting down through the buildings, she’d thought he was going to kiss her.
She shook her head now, telling herself she was tired and discouraged and scared. Boone wanted just one thing from her: answers.
Her hand went to her pocket and closed around the thumb drive Hank had left for her. She feared he’d left her answers—and she wasn’t going to like them.
Taking off her jacket, she tossed it aside and picked up her laptop. Popping it open, she slid in the thumb drive, all the time praying she wasn’t about to read Hank’s confession.
What came up was even more shocking.
The photo was of a beautiful young dark-haired woman with the greenest eyes C.J. had ever seen. She was much prettier than the digitally enhanced photos that had run in the news showing what Jesse Rose McGraw would look like now. The young woman was smiling at the camera, eyes bright, as if whoever was taking the photo had said something funny.
She looked quickly to see what else was on the thumb drive, but there was only the one photo. She stared at Jesse Rose McGraw, her heart pounding. Hank had definitely known something about Jesse Rose.
But did it mean he’d been involved in the kidnapping? Or had he found out about Jesse Rose only recently? That was the question, wasn’t it? The fact that he’d inquired with the McGraw family attorney gave her hope that he’d only recently stumbled onto the truth.
So why hadn’t he told the attorney? Or at least called Travers McGraw and told him where he could find his daughter? It wasn’t like Hank to keep a secret like that. So what had held him back?
It was the thought of what had stopped Hank from telling the McGraws the truth that had her running scared. Hank had been hiding something, there was no doubt about that. But what had kept him from doing the right thing?
C.J. closed the file, pulled out the thumb drive and pocketed it, her hands shaking. Hank had kept this from her and now she was about to do the same thing with Boone McGraw.
But she couldn’t throw Hank under the bus. She had to know how he was involved—if he was. She had to find out where he fit into all of this. And then she would turn over this thumb drive. But until then...
* * *
AFTER A HOT SHOWER, followed by a cold one, Boone had gone over everything that had happened that day. None of it made any sense. The only conclusion he’d reached—and one he figured C.J. had, too—was that Hank was dirty.
That made him sad for C.J. Everything he’d learned about the two private investigators, though, was at odds with that conclusion. He’d seen C.J.’s reaction to the stocks and bonds in the safety-deposit box. She’d been dumbfounded. Which meant she had to be devastated by what they’d discovered today.
The question was, though, how did it tie in with the kidnapping and Jesse Rose? If it did at all.
He pulled out his cell phone and called C.J. “I need a drink after a day spent with you. What do you say to joining me?”
“A drink?”
He heard something in her tone. “Look, I don’t have to get you drunk to hit on you, which I’m not, but if I was, I’d just back you up against a wall and—”
“Until you felt my gun in your ribs.”
He laughed at the image. “Yes. Just so there is no misunderstanding, let’s have dinner. We both have to eat. Or you don’t even have to eat. You can just watch me.”
She sighed and he thought for sure she was going to turn him down. To his surprise, she said, “There’s a steakhouse close to your motel. I’ll meet you there. Order me a steak, medium rare.”
“Wait, you don’t know where I’m stay—” He realized she’d already hung up. Of course she knew where he was staying. He could only guess how she knew. She’d probably followed him last night. He’d been too distracted to notice. He regretted what he’d said to her earlier about not being able to investigate her way out of a paper bag.
* * *
BOONE HADN’T BEEN waiting long when C.J entered the steakhouse. She looked a little out of breath as she slid into the opposite side of the booth. She’d told him to order for her and he had.
“I guessed baked potato loaded and salad with ranch dressing,” he said.
She cocked a brow as she slid into the booth across from him. “I can live with that. What did you order?”
“The same.” There was something different about her, he thought as he studied her. He got the impression that she’d walked here. Which meant she must not live far away. Either that or she’d needed the walk in the cold air.
She’d changed clothes and now wore a blouse and slacks, and her hair was tied at the nape of her neck. It cascaded down her back in a fiery river against the light-colored blouse. Silver earrings dangled from each ear and it appeared she’d applied lip gloss.
Something told him that none of this was about him. She seemed to wear all of it like armor as if she were going to war, reminding him that she was a private investigator first and foremost—and a woman on a mission. That they might not be on the same mission was still a possibility he had to accept.
He studied her, feeling a pull stronger than gravity. “I’m sorry about what I said to you earlier, you know, about the paper bag.”
She smiled. “I’m sorry about dumping you earlier.”
“It gave me time to do some investigating on my own,” he told her, making her raise a brow. “I found out a lot about you and your partner.”
“Really?” She seemed intrigued by that—and maybe a little worried. “All bad?”
“Actually, all good. The two of you are considered saints in this town.”
She shook her head, almost blushing as she picked up her napkin and dumped her silverware noisily on the table. There was a tenseness to her tonight that he also didn’t think had anything to do with him. After what they’d discovered at the bank, he’d seen how thrown she’d been. Had she found out even more to shake her faith in her partner?
“How was your time without me?” he asked.
“Pleasantly quiet.” She smiled, though.
“I thought you might have missed me,” he said.
She chuckled at that and carefully straightened her silverware. As the waitress brought their salads, C.J. looked eternally grateful for something to do with her hands.
It surprised him to see her so nervous. Was it because she was having dinner with him, almost like a date? Or had something happened this afternoon after she’d dumped him that had her even more upset?
“So you talked to people about Hank?”
“And about you. Both of you are highly respected around town,” he said when she didn’t ask.
“That’s nice. Anything else?”
“No one confessed to killing him, if that’s what you’re asking.”
She nodded and dove into her salad as if she hadn’t eaten in a week.
“So what did you do without me?” he asked, studying her.
“Just tying up loose ends,” she said without looking up.
“You’re sure that’s all?”
She glanced at him, those warm, honey-brown eyes meeting his. He saw defiance along with something that made his chest ache—fear. C.J. was running scared. He got the feeling that didn’t happen often.
“Do we have to talk business?” she asked.
“Is that what I was doing?” He took a bite of his salad. What the devil had C.J. found out? And why meet him tonight if she wasn’t going to tell him?
Their steaks came as they finished their salads. They ate without talking. He was hungry and quickly put away his steak and potato. Considering everything he’d eaten today, it seemed impossible. Must have been the high altitude of Butte that had him so ravenous. Or maybe it was a different kind of hunger that he was making up for.
As he pushed his plate away, he looked at C.J. She put her last piece of steak in her mouth, closed her eyes and chewed slowly.
“I take it you liked your dinner?” he joked, noticing that she’d eaten everything. “You’re welcome to lick the plate.”
She opened her eyes and swallowed. “I’m sorry you wasted the trip to Butte. There really isn’t any reason for you to stick around tomorrow. I can get a friend to take me down to pick up Hank’s car. If something else comes up, I know where to contact you.”
There wasn’t anything to say except, “Dessert?”
As she devoured a large slice of cheesecake, he had to wonder where she put it. She couldn’t eat like this all the time. Then again, she probably had the metabolism of a long-distance runner.
“Thanks for dinner,” she said after he’d paid and walked her outside. It was dark with a cold breeze coming out of the mountains.
“I’m taking you home,” he said, looking down the street to see several homeless men arguing.
“That isn’t necessary.”
“I’m afraid it is.” He opened the passenger side of his truck and waited. He could see her having a private argument with herself, but she finally relented and climbed in.
He went around and climbed behind the wheel. Whatever she’d considered telling him tonight, she’d apparently changed her mind. Why else have dinner with him? Or maybe she’d just been hungry and he was buying.
“Just tell me where to go,” he said as he started the pickup.
“Don’t tempt me.”
He looked over at her. “I’m going to take a wild guess here. This afternoon you found out something even more upsetting about Hank, but you don’t want to tell me. In fact, it’s why you gave me the slip earlier today. You’re running scared that not only am I right about what got Hank killed, but that he is involved somehow in the kidnapping.”
She looked out the side window and for a moment, he thought she might get out of the truck. Finally, she turned back to him. “Isn’t it possible I’m just exhausted and have enough to deal with without you?”
He nodded. “But you agreed to have dinner with me. I was watching you while you ate. I could see that you were debating telling me something.”
C.J. laughed. “You’ve never been very good at reading people, have you?” She looked out the windshield. “I live up that way.”
He put the truck into gear and started in the direction she indicated. “I’m not leaving tomorrow. I’m going with you to the city car lot to get Hank’s vehicle. If you don’t want to go together, then I’ll simply be waiting there for you.”
“Turn left up here,” she said. “Then right at the light.” They were headed up the mountain to an area he’d been told was called Walkerville. The street went straight up through smaller and smaller, less ornate houses until she told him to turn right.
Her house was the last one on a short street that ended in a deep gully.
“Here,” she said and the moment he slowed opened her door to get out.
“What time should I pick you up in the morning?” he asked.
In the cab light that came on as she climbed out, he saw her smile. “Are you always this pigheaded?”
“Always.”
“Ten.”
“I think you mean nine,” he said before she could close the door. “That is when the city lot opens and when you’re planning to be there, isn’t it?”
She smiled. “Nine, then,” she said, and slammed the door.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, he was sitting outside C.J.’s house. Walkerville in the daylight looked even more like an old mining community up on the mountain overlooking the city. As she came out of the house, he climbed out of his pickup and went around to open the passenger-side door for her.
“I was hoping you’d left town,” she said, clearly not pleased to see him.
“I almost did.”
“What stopped you?” she asked as she climbed in.
“You,” he said and shut her door.
As he slid behind the wheel, C.J. asked, “Could we make one stop first on the way? It’s uptown. The city yard is down in the valley, so it isn’t out of your way.”
“Not a problem. I’m all yours. So to speak,” he added and started the truck. “Sleep well?” he asked as he drove down the steep narrow streets.
“Fine.” He glanced over at her. If she’d gotten any sleep, he would have been surprised. There were dark shadows under her eyes.
“I slept fine, too.” Not that she’d asked.
She ignored his sarcasm as she gave directions to where she wanted to go. “Right here,” she said and the moment he stopped, she was out of the pickup and heading into another large brick building in the seedier part of town.
He cut the engine, parked and got out to follow her. Today she wasn’t getting rid of him as easily as yesterday. But the moment he pushed open the door, he saw her in the arms of a large older woman. The two were hugging. He couldn’t hear what was being said—no doubt condolences. He reminded himself of C.J.’s recent loss.
Boone felt a stab of guilt. He’d been so wrapped up in finding out what Hank had known about the kidnapping and Jesse Rose that he hadn’t given a lot of thought or compassion to C.J. Maybe she was right and Jesse Rose and the kidnapping had nothing to do with Hank’s death. Given the amount of money in those stocks and bonds, Hank could have been into something more dangerous than kidnapping.
He heard the older woman say, “I’m sorry, but I hadn’t seen Hank in a few weeks. He didn’t say anything about leaving town. Not to me.”
“And he didn’t leave anything for me?” C.J. asked, her voice rough with emotion.
The older woman shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”
C.J. brushed at her tears and stiffened her back as the woman looked past her to where Boone was standing. Apparently neither had heard him enter. “Thank you,” C.J. said. She turned toward him but she didn’t look at him as she made a beeline for the door.
He had only a second to get the door open and follow her out before she was on the curb. “I didn’t mean to intrude just now.”
Before she could answer, he heard the squeal of tires and the roar of an engine. The car came out of the alley at high speed. He didn’t have time to catch more than the general shape and color of the car before it headed straight for C.J.