Return to the Black Hills (16 page)

Kat’s chuckle made Buck feel warm inside. He might have screwed up six ways of hell where his other kids were concerned but somehow Kat had turned out better than Buck or Helen had any right to hope.

“I think you’re wrong about Cade, Dad. He’s extremely generous. And rock solid. You should have seen the way he came to Jessie’s rescue the other day. My brother only knows one mode—hero.”

Buck cocked his head to think.
Hero.
Not a word anyone would ever associate with him. Maybe he’d done better than he’d thought by the boy. “Are you telling me you think there might be something going on between Cade and this girl?”

Kat’s laughter echoed off the walls of his small, monklike room. “
Girl?
Dad, Shiloh is a girl. Jessie is a successful, sought-after stuntwoman,” she said, emphasizing the last word clearly. “She’s also beautiful in a very ungirly way and from what Shiloh tells me, Jessie doesn’t take you-know-what from anybody—your son included. He’d be crazy not to fall for her, but, at the same time, she’s made it clear her career comes first.”

“Like Faith.” The daughter-in-law Buck never got to know.

Kat’s sigh didn’t sound overly worried. “Maybe superficially. But trust me, Dad, Jessie isn’t anything like Faith.”

The tension in Buck’s shoulders relaxed a bit. Maybe he’d give that yoga class a try after all. It didn’t hurt that the instructor was a lovely, silver-haired lady with a kind smile.

“Good. I’ll leave it in Cade’s hands, then. Thanks for taking my call tonight, Kat. I was a little homesick.”

“Dad, you know how I feel about your self-imposed exile. Mom would be rolling over in her grave if she wasn’t in an urn on my mantle at the moment. She was as much to blame for what went wrong in your marriage as you were. Divorces happen. Get over it.”

He chuckled softly. “Sounds like a bumper sticker I saw the other day. All right, I’ll try to forgive myself. Now, you go tend to that husband of yours so the D-word doesn’t happen again.”

“Never,” she vowed. “Not me and Jack. We’re the real deal. It just took me a couple of tries to get it right. ’Night, Dad. Sleep well.”

Buck turned off his phone and smiled. He might not have been a good husband, but Kat was proof he wasn’t a total screwup as a father. If she could forgive him, maybe there was a chance his son would, too.

“Your swim last night?” Remy said, grabbing a banana from the bowl of fruit on the counter. “I tried to stay awake to make sure you didn’t drown or something, but I was so tired I crashed.”

“Oh. It was fine.” The truth. The swim was completely unremarkable. Her interlude with Cade, however, was something she still hadn’t wrapped her head around. And didn’t plan to share with her sister.

As she peeled the banana, Remy said, “I had a dream about you and Mama.”

“A nightmare, huh? I’m sorry.”

Remy took a bite and chewed a moment. “It wasn’t a bad dream. It simply made no sense. You were standing off in the distance and Mom was calling to you. Over and over. I don’t know if you were ignoring her or you couldn’t hear for some reason.”

“That makes perfect sense. She always said I never listened to her. Are you sure it was me?”

“Of course it was you. You think I don’t know my own twin? Besides, she said your name. She said, ‘Jessie, I’m sorry.’”

Jessie hated those kinds of dreams. They seemed too simple. Too pat. She wasn’t even completely certain her sister didn’t make them up as a way of manipulating her family.

“So,” she said, changing the subject, “is that what you’re wearing to work?” Her sister was a skirt-or-dress sort of girl, not jeans and a ratty T-shirt.

“Kat texted me last night. This is a work detail. She said to dress grubby. This is the grubbiest I’ve got. She also said we’re invited to a barbecue and pool party on Saturday. I wonder what we should make. Something Cajun?”

Jessie shrugged. “That’s your department.”

Remy shook her half-eaten banana at Jessie. “You can cook every bit as well as me, Jess. You simply pretend you can’t. You have to admit that’s one thing Mama did right with us girls.”

Jessie didn’t argue the point—it truly didn’t matter whether or not Marlene Bouchard taught her daughters how to make moist cornbread. Mom hadn’t been around when Jessie needed her and that was the one thing Jessie remembered above all the other lessons Mom might have preferred she point to as her legacy.

Remy squinted at the clock on the microwave. “Ooh. I’ve gotta dash. I need to stop for gas on the way.” She looked at Jessie and made a face. “What happened to Miss Awake-at-the-Butt-Crack-of-Dawn today? You need to get dressed, girlfriend. Take it from someone who tried and failed. That school bus driver doesn’t respond to a flirtatious smile. She doesn’t wait for anybody,” she called, racing out the door, purse in hand.

Jessie was moving a little slowly this morning. Probably because she’d spent way too much of the night worrying about whether or not she’d made a mistake. And the fact that she was stewing over—not celebrating—her fabulous encounter with Cade bothered her all the more. She’d made a pretty good effort to live her life the way she wanted without apology or fear. Until lately.

She managed to make it to the garage on time and was ridiculously disappointed to find Shiloh waiting by herself. No Cade.

“Where’s your dad?”

Shiloh shrugged. “He leaves before the sun comes up some mornings. But he always has breakfast sitting out for me. Fuel for the brain, he calls it.” She made a face, but she looked proud, too.

“He’s right. I get up, do yoga, then eat.” The only person on their team who didn’t join the others for breakfast when they were at an event was Zane. He claimed to follow a secret dietary regimen that he planned to take public someday and make his fortune.

Shiloh got in the passenger seat and fastened her seat belt without being asked. Jessie backed out slowly, getting a feel for the truck. Although big and ungainly looking, the truck drove like a luxury car, but she quickly figured out it had the get-up-and-go of an oxcart. They’d been ambling along the gravel road for about five minutes when Shiloh said, “How come you don’t have a boyfriend?”

“Who said I don’t?”

“Remy. She said the last guy you dated turned out to be a schmuck. I like that word.”

“Me, too. But J.T. wasn’t completely to blame. We sorta went out to make his mother happy.”

“Are moms supposed to do that? Set you up with boys? What if you don’t have one? A mom, I mean,” she quickly added.

The slight panic in her voice made Jessie want to reach across the bench seat and give her a one-arm hug. She didn’t. “No, no, no. Believe me, mothers can mean well and think they’re helping, but ask Remy how much our mother helped her high school romance.” She felt a little guilty bringing up the subject, which had been terribly dramatic and traumatic at the time, but obviously Remy felt no hesitation when it came to gossiping about other people’s lives so turnabout was fair play.

“I will. She’s funny. She talks a lot about your family and growing up in the South. My English teacher would probably say Remy doesn’t have all her filters in place.”

Jessie had to press her lips together to keep from laughing out loud.

“Your career is really important to you, right?”

Jessie nodded, wondering where this was taking them.

“Would you ever consider giving it up if you were in love and the guy asked you to?”

Jessie was afraid to think what that might mean. Had her dad said something to Shiloh about Jessie’s career? Or was this a holdover from Shiloh’s mother’s job and tragic death?

“Well, I’d like to hope that wouldn’t be an issue. If the guy loved me, too, he wouldn’t want to change me, right?” But Jessie knew from experience that was an altruistic dream relationship. The problem came up all the time when you worked in a profession that was widely considered a man’s job.

Changing the subject, she asked Shiloh, “Do you know how to drive?”

“Sorta. Ranch kids learn things like that early, but I’ve never driven out on the road. Liability, Dad says.”

“I’m sure he’s right. But I don’t see why you couldn’t practice on the way home from school every day. Practice makes perfect, right?”

“You’d let me? Really?” Shiloh cried, her voice shrill with excitement. “OMG. I can’t wait to tell Hunter. I—I mean…my friends.”

Hunter. A certain friend has a name.

Jessie nosed the truck toward the shelter that had been built to the left of where the private road intersected the highway. A row of mailboxes, presumably belonging to houses across the road from the ranch, angled off in the other direction. They were a few minutes early, but the terrain was flat enough that Jessie could see a bright yellow vehicle a mile or so away.

She killed the engine. “I don’t have a problem with you driving, but since this is your grandpa’s truck, I will have to ask your dad’s permission. I don’t see why that would be a problem. Your driveway seems like a pretty safe place to learn. The worst that could happen is you’d get turned sideways in the gravel, but you’ll be fine if you take it slow. You have to learn sometime, right?”

“That’s what Grandpa told Dad, but Dad said it was up to him to decide when that was.” Her expression looked far from optimistic.

“Hmm,” Jessie said, hearing the roar of the bus motor approach. “Maybe we’ll try the Jessie Bouchard method, then. Assume the answer is yes until you hear a no.”

Shiloh clapped excitedly. “Really? Oh, Jessie, you’re the best. Thank you. See you after school.”

Moments later, her young charge was safely aboard the bus, waving through the dusty glass. Jessie waited until the bus was out of sight before attempting a three-point turn to head to the ranch. Her ankle was throbbing by the time she parked and walked into the house.

She realized she’d forgotten to take her pain medication and was on her way to her bedroom when she spotted a flashing light on the answering machine. The phone line was in Buck Garrity’s name.

Oh, well,
she thought,
it’s not for me.

She’d barely taken a step when the phone rang. As far as she knew, the only people who had this number were friends or family interested in talking to Buck and more than likely knew he was out of town for the summer. But the flashing light prompted her to act. If someone had called more than once, maybe something was wrong. Maybe the caller was Cade.

“Garrity Ranch, Jessie speaking.”

Silence.

“Hello?”

She could hear someone breathing. A crank call this early in the morning? Maybe a robocall gone bad, she thought. She started to hang up the receiver when a voice said, “You lucky bitch. That must mean the wrong twin was behind the wheel.”

Whoever this caller was, he’d done something to Remy, thinking he’d reached his real target: Jessie.

She snatched up the keys and raced back to the truck. As she hauled herself into the cab, she heard a voice call out, “Jessie, wait. Where are you going? Can we talk?”

She frantically rolled down the window. “There was a call on your dad’s line. I think something’s happened to Remy. Something bad. I have to find her.”

Cade charged across the driveway. “Move over. I’ll drive.”

She didn’t bother protesting. Her ankle was throbbing. She hadn’t had a chance to grab her pills. She needed his help.

“Who called? What did they say?”

“A man. He said something about the wrong twin being behind the wheel. Remy drove my car this morning and she was wearing my ball cap.”

“Why didn’t he call your cell?”

She fastened her seat belt. “Maybe he thought he’d reach Remy. To tell her I was dead or something,” she answered, grabbing at straws. The panic she’d initially felt blossomed into a really bad feeling.

“Did you recognize his voice?”

She shook her head. “No. The sound was distorted. Like one of those voice-altering devices you see in the movies.”

Movies.

“It was Zane.”

“How can you be sure? You said it was altered.”

She grabbed the armrest to keep from sliding across the bench seat into Cade when the truck fishtailed on the gravel. He drove like a pro, making every turn exactly the way she would have if this was a choreographed stunt.

“Zane has always bragged about stealing props from sets that he worked on. Little things that wouldn’t be missed. He called it
gleaning.
One of the things he mentioned came from a spy movie,” she said, meaningfully.

“Got it.” Cade swore under his breath. “Does Remy have her phone with her?”

Jessie pulled hers out of the pocket of her sweatshirt and hit Remy’s number on speed dial. The call went straight to voice mail. “She doesn’t leave it on because service is so sketchy around here. Do you have Jack’s number? Maybe this is a false alarm. If she made it to work safely…”
Please God. Please let her be okay.

Cade flipped up his little belt holster and handed his phone to her. “Number’s listed. It’s a dead zone through here but you should have service as soon as we get on the highway. Do you know which way she took to Sentinel Pass?”

“No.” Jessie opened the phone and found the number. “I only know the way we took to the clinic. Is there another road?”

He nodded. “A shortcut. Less traffic but very winding, and—” He hesitated before continuing. “It has some serious drop-offs. If she went that way, we’re going to need backup.”

Jessie gulped. They’d reached the same spot she’d left a few minutes earlier. Cade turned onto the shoulder of the road and waited. “Try Jack.”

She hit the button, silently urging the call to go faster.

“Hey, brother-in-law, what’s up?”

“Jack? It’s Jessie. Cade and I are trying to reach Remy. Is she there?”

“No. I called the house a little bit ago to see if she was coming. Is something wrong?”

The red flashing light. She should have listened to the message. “Maybe,” she mumbled, filled with dread and guilt. She’d felt safe at the ranch, protected from the whims of Fate—a nebulous and dangerous trickster that seemed to have it in for her. She’d let down her guard and something bad had happened to someone she loved. This was her fault.

Cade took the phone from her trembling fingers and hit the speaker button. “Jack. We don’t know what’s happened, if anything, but we need to find Remy. Do you know if she planned on taking the cutoff?”

“I think so, yes. But she said she had to get gas.”

He nodded. “Okay. We’re taking off. We’ll keep you posted.”

“I’ll head out from here,” Jack told them. “She’s driving the big blue boxy car, right?”

Cade looked at Jessie. “Yota. The car’s name is Yota.”

Jessie sat forward, her gaze searching the sides of the road—even though logic told her any sort of attack would probably come on a lonely stretch of road, not a busy highway.

“Tell me more about this Zane character.”

“He comes across as laid-back, but he’s actually very ambitious—some of the past members of our team have called it delusions of grandeur. Physical training is his passion, and yet he’s been known to disappear on a weeklong bender. Then, if any of us go to a bar after work for a drink or two, he calls us slackers.”

“That’s a bit hypocritical.”

She agreed. “Zane is smart, but sometimes he gets stuck on a whacko philosophy or belief and can’t let go. When my mother first got sick, he went on and on about how certain foreign governments were plotting to kill us—one burrito at a time.”

“How did he take your losing in Japan?”

Horrible. Mean-spirited. Uncharitable.
Could that be his motivation? Revenge? But why now—nearly a year after the fact? “After Mom passed, he put on a huge show of sympathy. Sent a giant spray of flowers to the funeral. But right after I fell and sank us in the competition, he called me every name in the book.” Loser. Cheater. Human dog dung.

Cade shrugged. “Maybe being nice was a way to throw you off the fact he was plotting some sort of payback.”

Maybe. Another thought struck her. “Remember when you asked about his gambling habits? It just hit me. Marsh and Eerik were telling me Zane bragged about making a haul on an online site a couple of months ago. Gamblers only talk about their wins, right? Never their losses.”

He put on the blinker and they pulled into a gas station. “This is the last one before heading into the hills. Seems like the place she’d use. I’ll ask the attendant if he remembers seeing her.”

Jessie opened her door. “I’ll save you having to give him a description.” For once, she was glad she and her sister looked alike.

“Excuse me,” Cade said, cutting in front of the guy waiting in line to pay.

“Hey,” the stranger complained.

“It’s important,” Jessie said. “We’re looking for my sister. We’re afraid her car’s broken down somewhere between here and Sentinel Pass.”

The customer continued to frown, but he stopped complaining to listen to Cade and the clerk.

“The woman we’re looking for is blonde. She was wearing a hot pink ball cap with her hair in a ponytail.”

“She looks like me, only prettier.”

Cade gave her a sharp look but before he could say anything, the twentysomething clerk snapped his fingers. “Yeah, sure, I know who you mean. She was hot. Came in right before pump five went ballistic.”

He shook his head. “Talk about crazy. The alarms went nuts. The fire department showed up even though there wasn’t a fire.”

Several other people in line started talking. “We saw that,” one lady said. “What happened?”

The kid shrugged. “My manager thinks somebody tampered with the pump. Not sure how, exactly, but, boy, what a mess.” He pointed through the window to the island of gas pumps to the right of the counter. “Took fifteen minutes to turn off the alarms and reboot the computers. Some people were pretty mad, but your sister was real nice,” he added.

Cade and Jessie looked at each other. A diversion. The kind of thing an ex-Special Ops guy would know to do.

“Do you remember which pump she used?” Cade asked.

“She was driving a turquoise-blue ’71 Land Cruiser,” Jessie put in.

The kid grinned. “Hellacool. It’s a classic. She said it was her sister’s.” He pointed to the bank of pumps behind them. “She was at number twelve, I think. Opposite side. Why?”

“She’s not answering her cell and we’re afraid she might have gotten lost. Thanks for your help,” Cade said, shaking the young man’s hand.

“Good luck,” several of the people in line called as Cade and Jessie hurried back to the truck.

“So,” Cade said once they were on the road again, “your buddy did something to the gas pump that got all eyes looking one way so he could do something to your car.”

Jessie’s thought exactly. Hearing her suspicion articulated so perfectly made her nerves kick up a notch. “But how would he know she’d stop at this station? And when?”

Cade looked at her, his expression severe. “He followed her. He must have been casing the ranch for days, waiting for his chance. And our name is above the gate. That would explain how come he called Dad’s house phone. Alphabetically, Buck’s name comes before mine.”

He cursed low but fervently, undoubtedly troubled by the idea of Zane keeping an eye on the comings and goings of all members of his family—including his daughter.

The road Y’ed to the right and traffic fell off a mile or so later when the road began to climb and the terrain changed to pine and aspen forests.

Cade eased up on the gas. He didn’t want to add to Jessie’s obvious fear and concern, but this stretch of road had a bad reputation. He hadn’t been around when it happened, but he’d heard the story of Mac McGannon’s ex-wife. She’d missed a curve and her car wasn’t found for several weeks—her dead body in it.

“At least your car will be easy to spot,” he said, grasping for any sort of positive note.

Jessie didn’t acknowledge his comment. Her back was to him, her gaze glued to the road and ditches.

His phone, which was sitting on the seat between them, began to play a ring tone Cade recognized as his brother-in-law’s. Jessie grabbed it and hit the speaker button. “Hello?”

“Jess. It’s me. Jack just drove up. I’m about five miles outside of Sentinel Pass. Two people stopped to help within a minute of my pulling over, but neither of them had a cell phone. One of them drove into town to send for a tow truck while the other one hung around to make sure I was okay. Mac—the first guy who stopped—wanted me to go with him, but I refused to leave Yota alone and unprotected.”

Cade kept driving but he saw Jessie blink rapidly, a sure sign she was choked up. “What happened?”

“Two flat tires,” Remy answered. “Front and back on the same side. Can you believe that? Mac thought maybe I ran over something, but we couldn’t see any nails sticking out. I’m really sorry, Jess, if this is something I did.”

Jessie made a snarling noise. “It’s not your fault, Remy. And screw Yota. You should have gone with Mac. Cade and I will be there soon….” She let her voice trail off as she looked at him for confirmation. He held up both hands to indicate ten minutes. “Under ten. Do you know if Mac called the cops?”

There was a moment of silence, then Remy said, “Yes. Mac says his first thought was this was somehow related to your fall.”

“I didn’t fall. I—”

Cade bit down on his lip to keep from smiling. Her response was so Jessie. And he couldn’t help loving her for it even though the situation was nothing to laugh about.

She shook her head. “Never mind. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Mac says it’s a good thing I’m a slow driver. If I’d been speeding—the way
some
people drive, I might have flipped.”

Cade and Jessie looked at each other. She knew he was thinking the same thing she was.

“Your tires are shredded, Jess. And the rims might be ruined, too. Sorry. It took me a mile or so to find a shoulder big enough to pull over safely.”

“I don’t care about the freaking tires, you dork. Or the rims. I’m just relieved you’re okay. I’m hanging up now before we lose the signal. See you in a few.” She started to close the phone but changed her mind, adding, “I love you, Rem. You did good.”

She set the phone between them then turned in her seat to look at Cade. “This proves my rollover wasn’t an accident, doesn’t it?”

“Looks like a definite possibility. Was Zane on the set that day?”

She shook her head. “No. He called in sick. My agent said Zane asked for me to fill in for him. I thought he was throwing me a bone since he’d been so hostile in Japan.”

“Well, I think you need to let someone in the studio know what’s going on here. The guy’s a menace and whatever his motivation, I think it’s safe to say he’s stepped beyond simply trying to teach you a lesson.”

“I can’t believe he’d go this far. He was my friend. Why?”

“I don’t know, but apparently he doesn’t have any qualms about incurring collateral damage. What if Shiloh had had the day off and was riding with you? Or what if Remy overcorrected and crossed into oncoming traffic? Any number of innocent bystanders could have wound up dead.”

“My God, you’re right,” she said, her tone hushed. “Shiloh could have been—” She sat up straight, gaze forward. “Remy and I will move into a motel as soon as we get back to the ranch. I can’t leave here until he’s caught. I refuse to run away like some sort of coward, always looking over my shoulder, but I will not put you and your family in jeopardy a minute longer.”

Leave?
His grip on the wheel tightened. “That’s not what I meant. If you think I’m letting you take this guy on alone, you don’t know me very well. When you mess with a Garrity, you mess with trouble.”