Читать книгу Honor Bound - B.J. Daniels - Страница 12

CHAPTER FIVE

AINSLEY WOKE WITH the worst headache of her life. She groaned as she opened her eyes and quickly closed them.

“Here, this might help.”

Her eyes flew open, sending a dagger of pain straight to her brain. She grabbed the sheet and pulled it up to her neck as she stared at the strange man not only in her cabin, but also sitting on the edge of her bed.

“What are you doing here?” she cried and quickly peeked under the sheet. She was naked as a jaybird. “Oh no, I didn’t!”

“You didn’t,” he said in a deep, sultry voice she remembered. This was the cowboy who’d saved her in the canyon—but at what cost? “Your virtue is safe.”

“How long have you been here?” She spotted his boots by the door. “You stayed all night?”

“I didn’t trust you not to do something even more...wild, given your condition.”

“More wild than what?” she asked, her voice breaking.

“Skinny-dipping.”

She groaned and, sliding back down in the bed, covered her head with the sheet. “Please tell me I was alone,” she said in a tremulous voice from under the sheet. “The rest of the movie crew—”

“Weren’t there. It was just the two of us.” He pulled the sheet down until their eyes met and gave her a big smile. Had she noticed last night how handsome he was? Is that why she’d decided to go skinny-dipping with a complete stranger? Well, nearly a complete stranger.

“You were the only one naked,” he said, as if trying to reassure her. “Actually, you were the only one who went in the water, except for when I had to wade in to fish you out.”

She didn’t think she could feel worse. “I might have had too much to drink.”

“You think?”

“I don’t drink but a glass of wine occasionally. Normally.”

“So I gathered.”

Ainsley realized she didn’t remember any of this. Memory loss ran in her family, she mused, thinking of her mother’s return from the dead and complete lack of memory of those missing twenty-two years. The stray thought might have made her laugh if she hadn’t felt so awful.

“I don’t remember...anything,” she admitted.

“Don’t worry. Nothing happened, other than you sobering up from the icy water enough that I could get you back to your cabin and to bed. Alone. I slept on the couch.”

She glanced over and saw his black Stetson and his jean jacket on the couch.

“Now, drink this.” He handed her the glass he’d been holding. As she peered suspiciously at the ugly thick brown sludge, he said, “Trust me. That is going to make you feel much better.”

“It looks...awful.”

“It’s my own remedy for a hangover.”

“I’ve never had a hangover before.”

He laughed. “Apparently Kitzie was making your drinks? You might make your own in the future.”

She was still staring at the glass of thick brown stuff.

“Best to chug it.” He stood. “I don’t know about you, but I have to get to work. I have to go before everyone in camp sees me leaving your cabin.”

Ainsley felt her eyes widen in alarm.

“Don’t worry. It’s still early. Your reputation is safe.”

She groaned. “I don’t understand what happened last night, but it won’t happen again.”

“That’s too bad. You were trying out the new Ainsley Hamilton. She was up for anything. I kind of liked her.”

“I’ll just bet you did.” She tried to summon what dignity she could. “Well, I won’t be needing your...assistance again because of intoxication.”

“That’s too bad, too.” He gave her a wink before he stepped to the couch. She sat up to watch him pull on his boots, hat and jacket.

“We won’t be seeing that Ainsley Hamilton again,” she said, more to herself than to him. “Back to the old, boring Ainsley Hamilton.”

“Just between you and me, there is nothing wrong with the old Ainsley Hamilton either.” With that, he left.

She took a whiff of the drink and her stomach roiled. Holding her nose with her free hand, she chugged the thick liquid and gagged. What had the man given her? She thought for a moment that she was going to be sick. But then her stomach began to settle down. After a few minutes, she felt better.

By the time she came out of the shower and dressed, she had faith she could do what had to be done today without going back to bed—or worse, curling up and dying.

Her cell phone rang. Checking it, she saw that it was her mother calling. It still gave her an odd feeling when she saw the name Sarah Hamilton come up on the screen—after believing her mother dead for twenty-two years. Almost two years ago now, her mother had returned out of the blue with no memory of where she’d been. Her mother’s last memory was giving birth to the twins, Cassidy and Harper, both now almost twenty-five.

Ainsley was surprised that Sarah was calling and instantly worried. Her mother never called. Then again, Ainsley hadn’t really reached out to her mother. She felt a stab of guilt. She certainly hadn’t tried to make her mother’s transition back into their lives any easier.

If anyone should be reaching out to her mother, it was Ainsley since she was the oldest of Sarah’s six daughters and one of the few who actually remembered her. She’d been twelve when her mother had supposedly died after crashing her car into the Yellowstone River in the middle of winter. Her body was never recovered, something not that unusual in the wilds of Montana.

“Mother? Is something wrong?” she said into the phone.

“No, that is, I’m just checking to make sure you’ll be home before election night. Your father wants us all together.”

“I only have a few more days here, and then I was planning to come to the ranch.”

“Good,” her mother said.

The conversation stalled as it always did. Ainsley never knew what to say. She glanced at her watch. She really needed to go. “I heard you moved back into the house after you and Dad got married again.” They’d had an impromptu wedding by going to the justice of the peace.

While Bo, Olivia and the twins, Harper and Cassidy, had been upset that their parents hadn’t waited and had a “real” wedding with all six daughters in attendance, Ainsley was glad they’d been spared the event. She knew Kat felt the same way.

“Yes. I forgot how beautiful it is here on the ranch,” her mother was saying. “The view from the main house is wonderful.”

Her mother had returned from the dead to find her former husband had remarried, and a woman named Angelina Broadwater Hamilton wasn’t just living in her house, but sleeping in her bed.

For a while the media had played up the love triangle between the three. Ainsley had seen how conflicted her father had been during that time. He’d loved Sarah, had six daughters with her and had grieved years before remarrying.

Then Angelina had been killed in a car wreck, leaving the door open for Sarah and Buck to get back together. Because he was running for president, it had taken them some time, but they’d finally tied the knot again. Ainsley knew her father was hoping their remarriage would bring his family together once more.

“Well,” her mother said into the long silence. “I look forward to seeing you when you get home. Your sister Olivia thinks we should have a family celebration. Your father and I got married so quickly...”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” she said, rolling her eyes. It sounded...awkward. But maybe they would all accept their mother, and things would turn out just fine. “I would love to help with the...celebration,” she heard the old Ainsley say politely. “I’m sure my other sisters would, as well.” Probably not Kat, but she didn’t say that. Kat refused to call their mother anything but Sarah. Who knew what her problem was? Ainsley hadn’t been home enough to find out.

“It would make your father so happy.” But Ainsley could hear a note of happiness in her mother’s voice, too. Maybe it was possible to put this family back together again—before both of her parents headed off to Washington, DC. According to the polls, Republican hopeful Buckmaster Hamilton was going to win by a landslide.

Landslide. She shuddered at the memory of yesterday and how close she’d come to dying. Sawyer Nash had saved her then—and again last night. She thought about the cowboy and found herself smiling. So Sawyer Nash was partial to the new Ainsley Hamilton, was he?

A part of her still wanted to cut loose and have more fun. She was sick of being the good daughter, the good sister, the good girl. Wasn’t it time? But maybe she wouldn’t be quite as carefree as she’d apparently been last night.

That close call in the canyon had made her realize it was time. She would definitely have more fun—as soon as she felt better. She wondered what Sawyer would think about that.

* * *

KITZIE HAD LET out a curse as she’d watched Sawyer come out of Ainsley Hamilton’s cabin earlier. She’d blamed herself. She shouldn’t have spiked the woman’s tea. It had been childish and reckless. She smiled to herself. It had been fun to see another side of the prim and proper Miss Hamilton.

She wondered what Sawyer had thought of it. Of course, he had seen Ainsley home to her cabin. She should have anticipated that, knowing the man. But also knowing Sawyer, he wouldn’t have taken advantage of a woman in that condition. Still, she knew his protective side and could well imagine him holding Ainsley’s head while she puked in the toilet—if it had come to that.

Moving away from her cabin window, she told herself she had bigger fish to fry. Whatever Sawyer was up to, it was no longer any of her business.

Still it rankled her that Ainsley was just the kind of woman he would jump at saving. Even still injured and on medical leave, that was Sawyer. She wondered what friend had talked Sawyer into playing hero for the no-doubt future president’s daughter.

Right now, though, she needed to concentrate on her own job. And yet it nagged at her. Was Ainsley really being stalked, or was this about getting attention during her father’s election? And if there was a stalker, why would Sawyer keep his true purpose from the woman?

Kitzie shook her head, trying to clear Sawyer from her thoughts. It was a losing battle and had been for some time. She’d fallen for the man. That thought made her chest ache just as it had for months. She loved him, and even though she’d known he didn’t feel the same about her, she’d thought he would eventually.

Fool, she told herself now as she hurried to get dressed for her undercover job overseeing the kitchen for the crew. Sawyer being here was a distraction she didn’t need. She was no closer to solving her case than she had been when she’d hired on. She could feel the clock ticking. The video production company was set to move on in a matter of days. If she was right, the company was a front for the jewel thieves. She just had to prove it.

While other agents were looking into other leads, her gut told her the answer was here. Of the thirty-six mall jewelry stores hit across the country, this production company had been in the area all but one time. The most recent heist had been in St. George, Utah, where Spotlight Images, Inc. had been shooting nearby.

The burglars took only those items that had no serial numbers so were nearly impossible to trace. One of their favorites was a man’s watch known as “the poor man’s Rolex,” which could be resold for five-hundred dollars. The rest of the gold jewelry would be melted down, no doubt.

A security camera had captured three men, all clearly in disguises, before they’d disarmed it. This was another reason she suspected the production crew. They had access to makeup artists and costumes.

They also had access to tools. In one burglary, they had used a battery-powered saw to cut the gate at the jewelry store. So there was some know-how, as well. They knew how to cut power to the store, shutting down the surveillance cameras. From what she’d seen of the small crew, they all seemed pretty capable of doing a variety of jobs.

The thieves had worn gloves, since no fingerprints had been found or any other evidence she could use to pin the heists on these men. So far they had eluded both the police and the FBI.

“Just because they’re handy with tools doesn’t mean they’re jewel thieves,” her partner, Pete Corran, had argued.

“They were in the area for all the heists but one,” she’d argued back.

“Proof, Kitzie. And soon, or we’re going to be pulled off onto something else. I am doing my best to keep an eye on the people who are capable of fencing that much loot. But nothing so far.”

“This shoot will be over in a few days. They’re talking about taking some time off, maybe going south for the winter,” Kitzie had told him. “I’m telling you, they are going to fence the goods here in Montana in a few days. I can...feel it.”

“I’m a believer in your gut instincts, partner, so give me something I can work with.”

She wished she could. She’d been watching the bunch of them, but she hadn’t turned up anything. What if her instincts were off? Her boss thought they were. Since she’d screwed up, and Sawyer had had to save her months ago, she’d felt that her boss didn’t trust her instincts anymore. She had to prove herself.

She needed this arrest because, without Sawyer, all she had was her career, and her boss was getting antsy. No mall jewelry stores had been hit for weeks now. Also, there were no close towns with mall jewelry stores. Either they were taking a break before the holidays or... Or they were here to fence the goods.

So was there a fence in Montana who could handle a major deal? Pete was busy on that end of things. In the meantime, she’d already scoped out the men on the crew who she believed were involved based on the one surveillance video, her experience with men and criminals. She even had a good idea who the leader was. She was putting her money on Gunderson. But she had no proof. Yet.

Now it was just a matter of waiting for the burglars to make a move. The one thing she couldn’t do was let Sawyer distract her. Or worse, blow her cover trying to protect the Hamilton woman.

* * *

SAWYER DIDN’T OPEN the plastic bag in his pocket until he reached his own cabin. He gingerly removed the note he’d found the night before taped to Ainsley’s door.

The handwriting looked hurried, a scrawl of letters that he feared said too much about the writer.

I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you today in the canyon. Please forgive me. I would never hurt you. You are the most precious thing to me.

Sawyer felt a chill as he pulled out his cell phone. He’d seen notes like this before from “fans” who could turn ugly in an instant.

“Any chance of getting some fingerprints run?” he said in the phone when Sheriff Frank Curry answered.

“You’ve already found Ainsley’s stalker?” Frank asked, sounding surprised, before he laughed. “I knew you were the man for the job.”

“We’ll see about that.” He related what had happened the day before. “I do think it was an accident, but she still could have been killed.”

“Maybe he’ll leave her alone now,” Frank said.

“I don’t think so. He’s upset about yesterday, but I don’t think it will deter him, especially if he’s been following her for months. At least now I know that he is out here. He taped the note to her cabin door. That means he isn’t worried about anyone seeing him around the cabins. Also, he had access to paper from a scratch pad like the ones I saw in the main office.”

“You sound more worried,” the sheriff said.

“I was hoping the reason he was following her had something to do with her father and the presidential race.”

“You’ve ruled that out?”

“Not entirely. But I’d rather have a political fanatic than a romantic one. This guy seems a little too desperate that she might not like him after what happened yesterday. I’m anxious to find him and put a stop to this. The commercial will be over in a few days. He’ll be easier to find here than when Ainsley leaves. At least I hope that is the case.”

“Be careful.”

Sawyer laughed. “You know me.”

“That’s what is starting to worry me. You’ve already been injured. I don’t want to see you get killed because of me. What do you think of Ainsley?”

Sawyer thought of her naked in the moonlight. “She’s quite the woman.” He chuckled. “I’ll send the note he left her. I’m betting he was upset enough that he didn’t think to be careful about leaving his prints.”