B.J. Daniels the Cardwell Ranch Collection (25 page)

“A tiger doesn’t change its spots,” he said.

“Isn’t it ‘a zebra doesn’t change its stripes’ and what does that even mean?” she demanded.

“I had a look in her car last night after everyone went to bed. If she’s moving to Great Falls, she sure didn’t pack much.” He held up his hand. “I know. She apparently doesn’t have any money. But she gets the check from the ranch profits.”

“You know that isn’t enough to live on.”

“Well, you’d think she would have had a job for the past six years.”

“Stacy didn’t go to college so more than likely she can’t make much more than minimum wage.”

He shook his head. “I could find no employment in her past.”

“So she worked off the books somewhere. Or maybe the baby’s father has been taking care of her and now she can’t work because she has a baby to raise.”

Yeah, Hud thought. That’s what had Dana so desperate to believe Stacy had changed. That baby. Ella was cute as a bug’s ear. No doubt about that. Just the thought of Stacy raising the child, though, terrified him.

“So that’s all you found,” Dana said.

He nodded. “No warrants or outstanding violations.” No missing kids on Amber Alert who matched either the name Katie—or Ella’s description.

“So there is nothing to worry about.”

“Right.” He just wished he could shake his uneasy feeling.

“And don’t you go interrogating her,” Dana said. “Give her the benefit of the doubt. She is in absolute awe of that baby. She couldn’t be prouder of Ella. It’s the first time I’ve seen my sister like this.”

He nodded, not wanting to argue with her. He needed to keep Dana in this bed for their twins’ sake. Placing a hand on her stomach, he felt their babies move. It had a calming affect on him. Just as being here with his family did.

But in the other room he could hear Stacy with the kids. Something wasn’t right with her story. Call it his marshal intuition. But Stacy wasn’t telling them the truth. And as much as he hated to think it, whatever she was lying about, it had something to do with that precious baby.

* * *

T
ESSA
R
YERSON
S
PRING
didn’t answer her phone so Liza drove over to the house. Getting out of the patrol SUV, she walked past the garage, noting that at least one vehicle was inside, before she rang the doorbell.

She had to ring it four times and knock hard before Tessa appeared. She’d wrapped a towel around her head and pulled a robe on, no doubt hoping Liza would think she’d been in the shower.

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking more than a little flustered. “Have you been standing here long?”

Long enough. “Mind if I come in for a moment? Or you can come down to the office? Which works better for you?”

“Actually, I was just…” Tessa gave up and said, “I suppose I have a few minutes.” She stepped aside to let Liza in. “I should make some coffee.”

“No, thanks. Why don’t we sit down for a minute.” She could tell that Tessa wanted something to occupy herself. Jordan was right about one thing. Tessa was nervous and clearly afraid.

“This won’t take long,” Liza assured her.

The woman finally perched on the edge of the couch. Liza took a chair across from her. Like many of the residences at Big Sky, the decor was made to look like the Old West from the leather furniture to the antler lamps. The floor was hardwood, the rugs Native American, the fireplace local granite.

Tessa straightened the hem of her robe to cover whatever she was wearing beneath it, then fiddled with the sash.

“I’m here about Alex Winslow’s death.”

“Oh?” Her smile was tentative. “Why would you want to talk to
me?
”

“You were a friend of his in high school.”

“Yes, but that was twenty years ago.”

“But you talked to him recently. The calls were on his cell phone,” Liza said.

Tessa’s eyes widened with alarm. Her hand went to her forehead as if suddenly struck with a migraine. Clearly she hadn’t expected anyone to know about the calls.

“I’m curious what you talked about,” Liza said.

After a moment the woman pulled herself together. “I’m sorry. I’m just upset. I heard he was murdered?”

“So what did you talk about?”

“The reunion. Shelby must have told him to call me. I’m in charge of the picnic on Sunday. It’s going to be at the top of the gondola. Weather permitting, of course.” Her smile was weak, nervous. She worked at the robe sash with her fingers, toying with the edges.

“You and Alex dated in high school.”

She nodded. “For a short while.”

“But you were close?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I mean Alex trusted you. He would have confided in you.”

“I don’t know what you’re asking.”

“He would have told you if he had some reason to suspect that Tanner Cole didn’t kill himself.” The statement had the effect Liza had hoped for.

Fear shone in the woman’s eyes. Her hand went to her throat. Jordan was right. She knew
something.

“Had you ever been up to the cabin where Tanner was staying that spring before high school graduation?” Liza asked.

“I might have.”

“With Alex?”

“Maybe. I really can’t remember.”

“Do you knit?” Liza asked.

“What?”

“I wondered if you knitted because this case started like a loose thread in a sweater. At first it was just a small problem, but once it started unraveling…” She shook her head. “Alex started it unraveling. Now it’s going to come apart. No doubt about it.”

Tessa managed a smile. “That’s an odd simile.”

“Metaphor,” Liza said. “It’s a metaphor for murder. Alex was just the beginning. As this unravels, more people are going to die. Because even though you believe you can keep this secret, whoever killed Alex is afraid you can’t. You see how this works? You just can’t trust each other anymore and when push comes to shove…”

“I’m sorry, deputy,” Tessa said, getting to her feet. “I have no idea what you’re talking about and I’m running late for an appointment. She held her head in a regal manner. Liza got a glimpse of the girl Tessa had been when she and Shelby and the others had been on the pinnacle of popularity and thought nothing could bring them down. But as they all seemed fond of saying, “that was high school.” This was real life.

“Think about it, Tessa. If they think you’re the weak link, they’ll attack you like rabid dogs.” Liza rose. “I’ll see myself out.”

Chapter Eight

Jordan hadn’t seen his father since the last time he was in Montana. They talked once in a while by phone, but they really didn’t have much to say to each other.

For a long time Jordan blamed his mother for the divorce, believing she cared more about the ranch than she did her husband. There was probably some truth in that. But the divorce wasn’t all her fault. She hadn’t driven his father away. Angus Cardwell was more than capable of doing that himself.

He found his father at Angus’s favorite watering hole, the Corral, down the canyon from Big Sky. Angus had been one handsome cowboy in his day. It was easy to see even now why Mary Justice had fallen in love with him.

Unfortunately, Jordan’s mother had loved ranching and her husband had loved bars and booze. The two hadn’t mixed well. Angus had taken the healthy settlement Mary had offered him and had left amicably enough. He’d made the money last by working an odd job here and there, including cash he and his brother made playing in a Country-Western band.

Most of the time though, Angus could be found on a bar stool—just as he was now. And most of the time his brother Harlan would be with him—just as he was now.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Angus said as Jordan made his way down the bar toward them. Like all out-of-the-way Montana bars, everyone had looked up to see who’d come through the door. Angus and Harlan were no exceptions.

“Hey, Bob,” his father called to the owner as he slid off his stool to shake Jordan’s hand and pound him on the back. “You remember my eldest.”

Bob nodded, said hello and dropped a bar napkin in front of an empty stool next to Angus. Uncle Harlan nodded his hello and Angus patted the stool next to him and said, “What would you like to drink, son?”

Jordan wasn’t in the mood for a drink, but he knew better than to say so. Angus took it personally when anyone wouldn’t drink with him—especially his son. “I’ll take a beer. Whatever’s on tap.”

Bob poured him a cold one and set it on the napkin, taking the money out of the twenty Angus had beside his own beer.

“What are you doing in Montana?” Uncle Harlan asked.

“I was just asking myself that same thing,” Jordan said and took a sip of his beer. He could feel his father’s gaze on him. News traveled fast in the canyon. Angus and Harlan would have heard about the shooting night before last.

He braced himself for their questions. To his surprise, that wasn’t the first thing his father wanted to know.

“Been to see your sister yet?” Angus asked.

“Not yet. I wasn’t sure Dana would want to see me.”

“You know better than that.” He took a drink of his beer. “That is, unless you’re going to try to hit her up for money. No one will want to see you in that case.”

Jordan shook his head. “I’m not here looking for money.”

“In that case,” his father said with a laugh, “you can buy the next round.”

Two beers later Jordan asked his father if he remembered when Tanner Cole died.

Angus nodded solemnly. “He hung himself up by that construction site. I remember he was staying up there because there’d been some vandalism.”

“There’d been some before Tanner moved into the cabin?” Jordan asked in surprise.

Angus nodded. “Couldn’t prove who did it, but Malcolm Iverson was pretty sure it was his competitor, Harris Lancaster, trying to put him out of business. So he hired the kid to keep an eye on things.”

Jordan hadn’t known about the earlier vandalism or that Iverson had suspected Harris Lancaster.

“Malcolm probably couldn’t have survived financially the way things were going even if his equipment hadn’t been vandalized a second time,” Uncle Harlan said. “Your friend must have taken it hard, though, since everyone blamed it for forcing Iverson into bankruptcy. Apparently, he’d let his equipment insurance lapse.”

“How did I never hear this?” Jordan said.

“You were a senior in high school,” his father said with a laugh. “You had your nose up some girl’s skirt. You were lucky you even graduated.”

“Tanner never said anything about this,” he said more to himself than to his father and uncle.

Angus tipped his beer up, took a swallow, then turned his gaze on his son. “You can’t blame yourself. Malcolm had no business hiring a kid to watch over his equipment. I’m just sorry you had to be the one to find your friend like that.”

Jordan nodded, remembering the day he’d gone up to the construction site looking for Tanner. He’d been worried about him since it wasn’t like Tanner to miss school.

He’d never forget parking and walking up the road to find the front door of the cabin open. He’d called Tanner’s name and gotten no answer and yet, his friend’s pickup had been sitting next to the cabin.

One glance and he’d seen that it was empty. He’d heard the creaking sound and at first thought it was a tree limb scraping against another limb.

It wasn’t until he turned toward the fire pit where the party had been held the night of the vandalism that he saw the shadow. A breeze had stirred the pines, making the shadow flicker over the dead campfire. He’d called Tanner’s name again, then with a sinking feeling he’d followed the creaking sound until he saw what was casting the long shadow over the fire ring.

He would never forget the sight of his best friend hanging from the tree limb.

Jordan took a drink of his beer, cleared his throat and said, “I never believed that Tanner killed himself. I knew he blamed himself for the vandalism because of the party up there that night, but now with Alex murdered… I have to find out what really happened.”

“If I were you, I’d stay out of it,” Angus said, looking worried. “Two of your friends are dead. Whatever’s going on, you might be next.”

* * *

L
IZA
HAD
TO
ADMIT
IT
.
She was having fun. She and Dana had hit it off from the first time they’d met and Hilde was a whole lot of fun.

“Oh, you have to try this one,” Hilde said as she pulled a black-and-white polka-dot dress from the huge pile she’d brought. “It’s one of my favorites.”

They’d been laughing and joking as Liza tried on one dress after another. Hilde had kidded Dana after exploring her closet and deeming it probably worse than Liza’s.

“You cowgirls,” Hilde said. “Jeans, jeans, jeans. Don’t you ever just want to show off your legs?”

“No,” Liza and Dana had said in unison.

The polka-dot dress was cute and it fit Liza perfectly. “Do you think it’s
too
cute? Maybe it’s not dressy enough,” Liza asked.

“Come on, this is Montana, no one dresses up,” Dana said.

Hilde rolled her eyes. “Sweetie, this is Big Sky and all the women will be dressed to the nines. The men will be wearing jeans, boots and Western sports jackets, but for these women, this is a chance to pull out all those expensive clothes, bags and high heels they’re just dying to show off.”

“Then I’m wearing this,” Liza said, studying her reflection in the mirror. She loved the black-and-white polka-dot dress. “This is as dressy as this cowgirl is going to get.”

Dana laughed. “Good for you.”

As Liza changed back into her jeans, boots and uniform shirt, Dana said, “So have you seen my brother?”

She shook her head. “Not since earlier. I haven’t had a chance to talk to him, either.”

“He is still a suspect, right?” Hilde asked, sounding worried.

Liza realized that her two friends were worried about her being taken in by Jordan. She had to smile, warmed by their concern.

“I hope I don’t have to remind you that he was best friends with both Tanner and Alex and now they’re both dead,” Hilde said. “I grew up around Jordan. He always had a temper.” She shot a look at Dana, who nodded, though with obvious regret.

“People change,” Liza said, instantly regretting coming to Jordan’s defense. She saw Hilde and Dana exchange a look.
“What?”

“It’s Stacy. I think
she’s
changed,” Dana said.

“You
hope
she’s changed,” Hilde corrected.

“Hud told me he was doing some checking into her past,” Liza said. “I assume he didn’t find anything.”

“That’s just it, he found nothing and that has him even more worried,” Dana said. “Him and his marshal intuition.”

Liza laughed. “Don’t be joking around about our intuition.” She’d been a green deputy six years ago, but Hud had taken her under his wing after seeing what he called an instinct for the job. Now he trusted her to handle this investigation and that meant everything to her.

The three women visited for a while longer, then Liza said she had to get moving. “The cocktail party and dinner is tonight. I’ve studied up on the players. Jordan had a list of those attending. Surprisingly, or maybe not, all eight of the Big Sky senior graduates will be up at Mountain Village tonight. Everyone but Alex and Tanner, that is.” It was a small class twenty years ago. Although they attended high school down in Bozeman, they wanted their own reunion up here. Only in the past few years had Big Sky gotten its own high school.

“Just be careful,” Dana said. “I know a few of those women.” She pretended to shudder. “They’re vicious.”

“I don’t think they’re that bad,” Hilde said. “I work out at Yogamotion. They’re nice to me.”

This time Dana and Liza exchanged a look. Hilde was petite, blonde and lithe. She would fit right in.

Dana reached for Liza’s hand and squeezed it. “Just don’t forget that one of them could be a killer.”

* * *

J
ORDAN
HAD
SPENT
THE
REST
of the afternoon writing down everything he could remember about his senior year of high school, especially what might pertain to Tanner and Alex.

The trip down memory lane had exhausted him. When he glanced at his watch, he’d been shocked to see how late it was. He quickly showered and changed and drove over to pick up his date.

What surprised him was the frisson of excitement he felt as he rang Liza’s bell. He realized with a start that he hadn’t been on a real date in years. Since his divorce he’d stayed clear of women.

When he’d left the canyon, he’d shed the cowboy side of him like an old snakeskin. He’d wanted bright lights and big city. He’d wanted sophistication. He’d kicked the Montana ranch dust off his boots and hadn’t looked back.

That was how he’d ended up married to Jill. He’d been flattered that a model would even give him a second look. She’d been thrilled that he came from Montana ranch stock, saying she was bored with New York City–type men.

What he hadn’t realized was that Jill thought he had money. She’d thought the ranch was the size of Ted Turner’s apparently and couldn’t wait to get her hands on the funds it would bring in once it sold.

He’d gotten caught up in trying to make her happy, even though she’d quit modeling the moment they were married and spent her days spending more money than he could make on Wall Street.

Now he could admit that he had become obsessed with keeping her. Although he hadn’t acknowledged it to himself back then, he’d known that if he ran out of money, Jill would run out on him.

And she had—just as Dana had predicted. He hadn’t wanted to hear it six years ago. Hell, he didn’t like to think about it even now. The truth hurt. He’d fought back, of course, driving an even wider wedge between himself and his younger sister.

When Dana had discovered their mother’s new will in that damned cookbook at the ranch house, Jill had realized there would be no ranch sale, no gold at the end of the rainbow, and she’d split. In truth, she’d already had some New York male model lined up long before that.

It had been some hard knocks, but he felt as if they had maybe knocked some sense into him. He saw things clearer than he had before. Mary Justice Cardwell had tried to instill values in her children. He’d rejected most of them, but they were still at his core, he thought as he rang Liza Turner’s doorbell again.

When the door opened, he was taken completely off guard by the woman standing there. Liza took his breath away. She was wearing a black-and-white polka-dot dress that accentuated curves he’d had no idea were beneath her uniform. Her beautiful long curly hair had been pulled up, wisps of curls framing her face and she smelled heavenly.

“Wow, you look killer,” he said when he caught his breath.

“So to speak,” she said, sounding embarrassed as she quickly stuffed her gun into her purse. “My feet already hurt in these shoes.”

He smiled at her. “You can kick them off the minute we hit the dance floor.”

“Dance floor?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Didn’t I mention I do one hell of a two-step?”

She took him in, her gaze pausing on his cowboy boots.

“Dana had a box of my clothes dropped off at the cabin,” he said, feeling sheepish. It was so like Dana to be thoughtful. He’d found the boots as well as a couple of dress Western shirts and a Western-cut sports coat. He’d been surprised when everything still fit.

“You are a man of many surprises,” she said, sounding almost as if she meant it.

He laughed. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” As he walked her to his rental SUV, he breathed in her scent, thinking he couldn’t wait to get this woman in his arms on the dance floor.

* * *

D
ANA
SUCKED
ON
HER
BLEEDING
finger. Needlepoint wasn’t for her, she decided after jabbing herself another time. She surveyed her stitches and cringed. As Stacy came into the bedroom, she tossed the needlepoint aside, glad for an interruption.

Earlier, Mary and Hank had come in and colored with her before their naps. She missed holding them on her lap, missed even more riding horses with them around the corral. All these beautiful fall days felt wasted lying in bed. But Hud had promised to take both kids out tomorrow.

As Stacy came over to the side of her bed, Dana saw that her sister had the cookbook open to their mother’s double chocolate brownies.

“Is it all right if I make these?” Stacy asked.