Читать книгу Thunder Horse Heritage - Elle James - Страница 9

Chapter Two

An hour later, Tuck sat on the side of the bed in his hotel room at the casino, staring at his hands. What the hell had just happened? He was on his way home for a week off—he’d never planned to spend his vacation finding out who had murdered a woman he’d been married to for a grand total of forty-eight hours.

Behling left him at his door, claiming he had a mound of paperwork and calls to make and that he’d check in with Tuck the next morning when Rick would take them back to Bismarck.

Relieved to have a chance for some time to himself, Tuck had assured Behling he would be fine and needed the rest and an opportunity to think…alone.

Except for the blood staining her chest, Julia looked the same as the last time he’d seen her on their wedding night—what he could remember of it. Long blond hair and pale blue eyes, a slender build, rounded, firm breasts. She’d been a beauty then and was just as beautiful in death. Had they met any other way…had they tried to make their farce of a marriage stick…this scenario might have had a completely different ending.

Over a year had passed since their last correspondence—the annulment papers delivered by courier to his apartment door on his day off.

His head dropped into his open palms, the terrible nature of Julia’s death weighing him down. Who had killed her?

The cell phone lying on the bed beside him buzzed. He checked the caller ID—Dante. He didn’t bother answering the call. What could Tuck say to his brother? Hi, I’m in Fort Yates and just got through viewing my ex-wife’s remains.

His brothers didn’t even know he’d married. He’d been too embarrassed to tell anyone. He’d been to a bachelor party for a friend and had been so sauced when he’d met Julia, he hadn’t been thinking clearly. After dancing with her for two hours straight, they’d ended up in his hotel room, making love until early into the next day. Still high on alcohol and sex, they’d run out to the justice of the peace, obtained a wedding license and tied the knot at the quaint little wedding chapel in Fort Yates. As the alcohol wore off and exhaustion set in, they returned to his hotel room, where they collapsed and slept through the rest of the day and night.

When Tuck had woken the next morning, Julia had been gone, leaving a note with an apology and no forwarding address. She’d filed for an annulment immediately, and their union had been dissolved. Just like that.

When his cell phone quit ringing, Tuck glanced at it, remembering the “911” text message from earlier that day before…well, before everything. Behling’s call, the quick trip to Fort Yates and the murders had made him forget to follow through, but now the contents of the message came back to him in a rush.

Could the message have been from Julia? His heart skipped several beats as he dialed the number in the message. Could it have been the last text message Julia had sent before she’d been brutally murdered? He opened the text screen and a phone number flashed up at him. With a sense of dread, he pressed the number, engaging the dialing capability.

After several rings, someone answered. Or at least Tuck thought someone clicked the talk button. The ringing had stopped, but no one spoke.

“Hello?” Tuck waited in case the connection was bad. Reception in the far reaches of North Dakota was scarce if not nonexistent. “Hello?”

“Tuck? Tuck Thunder Horse?” a feminine voice asked in a whisper.

A hint of recognition tugged at Tuck’s consciousness and his heart rate kicked up a notch. “Speaking.”

“It’s J-Julia.”

All the air left Tuck’s lungs as if someone had sucker punched him. “Julia?” How could it be Julia? She was dead, her body taken to the Fort Yates morgue. He’d identified the body himself. His stomach gurgled and twisted.

“I need to see you,” the woman said.

Tuck ran a hand through his hair. Who the hell was this? Why was she impersonating a dead woman? His grip tightened on the phone as anger forged through him. He tamped it down and feigned ignorance of what he’d witnessed earlier. “When? Where?” His voice was gruffer than he’d intended, a lump knotting in his throat.

“Are you in North Dakota?” she asked.

His lips thinned. “As a matter of fact, I am. Just flew into Bismarck a couple hours ago and made a quick run south to Fort Yates.”

She made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob. “Oh, thank God.”

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“No. No, nothing is all right.”

Tuck couldn’t agree with her more. Anyone with the gall to pass herself off as a dead woman wasn’t firing on all cylinders. “Tell me where you are.”

“In Fort Yates.” Her words were spoken carefully, as if she was afraid to give away too much.

“Where in Fort Yates? I’ll see what I can do to get there.”

“I can’t tell you. Tell me where you are and I’ll meet you.”

“I’m at the casino.”

After a long pause, she whispered, “Meet me in fifteen minutes at the marina below the casino. Come alone.”

Alone. Tuck’s sense of self-preservation tensed. She could be setting him up. But for what? Hell, at this point did it matter? He wanted to know her game. “It’s dark. How will I find you?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll find you.”

Before he could question her further, the line clicked in his ear.

His emotions still raw from seeing the woman he’d married on a whim lying dead on the shore of Lake Oahe, Tuck’s blood ran cold then hot, blazing through his veins like fast-flowing molten lava. How dared she? How dared this stranger call claiming to be Julia, when Julia lay dead?

He checked his watch and headed out the door. The walk to the marina from the hotel wouldn’t take long, five minutes max. That would give him ten minutes to watch for her to arrive if she wasn’t already there.

His stride ate the distance. Part of him wanted to notify Josh of the phone call, but something in the

woman’s voice made him hesitate. He had to know her story before he called in his friend, otherwise Behling might think he was imagining things.

Wide-open expanses of North Dakota prairie were interspersed with scrubby little trees along the road down to the marina. Tuck scanned both sides, peering into the bushes and the shadows of the limited vegetation along the way.

The marina consisted of two long jetties jutting out into Lake Oahe with small, medium and large boats moored in the slips. The marina building perched at one end of the pair of jetties, closed for the night, shuttered, with all merchandise displays tucked within the walls. Besides a dirty yellow streetlight on the marina, two lone lights jutted from the top of poles at the end of each jetty, reflecting light off the inky water below.

Tuck had about given up trying to find the woman when a figure detached itself from the shadow of the marina building, a dark cap pulled down low. As Tuck neared the figure, her head turned left then right in a jerky, nervous movement. She wore a long, draping shawl wrapped around her body, disguising her figure. She could have been a young or old woman, fat or thin. He couldn’t tell, but he’d find out soon enough.

Tuck stood back, studying the woman for a moment, gathering his nerve and tamping down the desire to strangle her for playing the role of a murder victim.

Coaching himself to calm, he forced all anger from his face and demeanor, then walked forward.

She remained hidden in the shadows.

“I’m here…Julia.” His teeth ground together on her name. “What do you want?” Tuck stopped, refusing to move closer. She’d have to meet him halfway.

The hint of a sob drifted across the crisp evening air toward him, and the woman moved another step out of the shadows, her hand reaching out. The glow from the yellowed night light glanced off the side of her face, illuminating her profile.

Tuck sucked in a breath and backed up a step. The female was the image of the one the medical examiner had pronounced dead only a short while ago.

Tuck lurched forward, gripping her arms, his fingers digging in, refusing to let her escape. “Who the hell are you?”

She hunched her shoulders, her body shaking, staring up at him, searching his face. “Tuck?” His name wasn’t so much a question as a statement, and some of the tension in her arms slackened.

Tuck’s grip tightened. He’d be ready if she tried to make a run for it.

“We can’t stay here,” she whispered.

Tuck’s eyes narrowed. “We’re not going anywhere until you answer my question…here…now.” His jaw tightened and he refused to move.

Her gaze darted left then right. “We’re not safe.”

He snorted. “Should have thought of that before you chose this spot.”

“I had to be sure it was you before…”

“Before what?”

“Please, could we go somewhere safe, not so out in the open?” She tugged against his grip, her gaze darting past him.

“Who are you afraid of?” Tuck demanded.

“I don’t know.” She stared up at him, her blue eyes wide, frightened. “Please, we have to go somewhere safe.”

“We can stay here or go to my room at the casino.” His mouth pressed into a thin line. He was reluctant to let this woman into his room, but curiosity burned too strongly to ignore. He had to know who she was and what was going on.

“Your room?” Again her gaze darted left then right, and she ducked her head. “No, I can’t,” she said, her voice cracking. “I can’t go back there.”

“We don’t have many choices in a town the size of Fort Yates. Do you have any other suggestions?”

“I can’t go home.” Her body drooped, her arms going limp. “I have nowhere else to go.”

Tuck hesitated another second, then let go of one of her arms, keeping a tight hold on the other as he led her back the way he’d come, toward the hotel casino. He berated himself inwardly for falling into her plan, but if he wanted to get to the bottom of this charade, he had to play along until he got answers.

As they neared the hotel, she slowed, adjusted the bulky shawl around her middle, bringing the fabric high around her neck. With shaking hands, she tugged the hat lower over her eyes, pushing long, loose strands of hair back under the hat’s rim.

Past being patient, Tuck nudged her forward with a little more force than he intended and stepped up on the back porch of the casino, pushing through the double glass doors to the stairwell.

The shawl-wrapped female stumbled. A small cry burst from beneath the shawl, but it didn’t sound as if it came from the woman.

“What the hell?” Tuck reached out to yank the shawl aside.

A hand whipped out, knocking his aside. Blue eyes stared up at him, sandy-blond brows diving like daggers toward the bridge of her nose. “Don’t.”

“I’m not taking you into the hotel until I know what you’re hiding beneath that shawl.” He reached out again for the shawl.

She stepped back, her chin tightening, her eyes narrowing to slits. “And I’m telling you if you try to remove the shawl, I’ll kill you.” To emphasize her point, she jabbed him in the side with the business end of a revolver. “Now, are we going to your room or what?”

Tuck’s pulse leaped. If he wasn’t mistaken, the gun appeared to be a SIG Sauer revolver, just like the one he carried on duty with the FBI. Unfortunately, his was at the armory. Headed for a week off, he hadn’t seen the need to carry. What the hell was she doing with a

SIG Sauer? The way she held the revolver was a sure sign she had no clue how to use it, but that didn’t make the weapon any less deadly. He remained calm. “Aren’t you afraid someone will see you holding a gun?”

“No.” Even after her arm came to a stop, the bulk around her middle shifted. “Now, are you going to take me to your room, or do I have to use this?”

He didn’t move, gauging whether or not she had the gumption to pull the trigger. Now more than curious about her story, he decided to go along with her plan. If necessary, he could easily disarm her when the time came. “Come on.”

She let out a breath. “Good. The sooner we get this meeting over with, the better.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” He led the way up the stairs to the third floor. When they reached his door, Tuck inserted the key and waited for her to enter.

As she passed across the threshold, she turned to face him, the gun tenting the shawl. “Don’t try anything. I know how to use this. And I really don’t want to.”

“I don’t doubt that in the least,” Tuck lied, following her into the room.

Once he had the door closed firmly behind him, he faced the woman, his heart stone cold. “Now that we’re alone, suppose you tell me why the hell a dead woman is holding me at gunpoint.”

* * *

JULIA GASPED, HER heart squeezing so tightly in her chest she couldn’t breathe. “Shut up.”

“Who are you?” Tuck Thunder Horse stalked toward her, closing the distance between them. “I watched the coroner zip the body bag on Julia Anderson.”

Julia raised her empty hand to her ear, tears filling her eyes. “Shut up,” she whispered. She’d suspected her sister was already dead, but having it confirmed stole her breath away. Her body trembled, the tremors becoming more violent until she shook so hard she could barely stand. “Shut up.”

“No. I will not shut up until you tell me what’s going on.”

Julia swallowed hard, knowing that in order to keep herself and her baby safe, she had to hold it together. Had to get Tuck Thunder Horse to take her and Lily into his protection, or they’d die before she could get them away from Fort Yates.

Die just like her twin sister.

“I am Julia Anderson. You and I were married over a year ago. I filed for an annulment the next day.” A lump of emotion lodged in her throat. Her sister lay on a cold, hard slab in the morgue. She’d already lost one of the only two people she had left in this world. She’d be damned if she let anyone hurt Lily. And Tuck was the only one she trusted to help protect her baby.

Tuck’s jaw tightened, a tic flickering in the left side. “If you’re Julia, then who the hell was in the body bag?”

The baby wrapped snugly against Julia’s belly stirred and whimpered. Lily, sweet Lily, the love of her life, her reason for living.

Julia coughed to cover the sound of the child’s whimper. “That was my twin sister, Jillian. Whoever killed her will be after me next.”

“What?” Tuck shoved a hand through his hair, her revelation hitting home. He really hadn’t known anything about Julia when he’d married her. “You expect me to believe you had a twin?”

Julia jerked the hat from her head and let her long blond hair fall down around her shoulders. She and her sister had been identical twins, Jillian arriving two minutes before Julia. Their mother had told them that Jillian had arrived kicking and screaming, Julia in a more sedate manner, calm and angelic. “Did she look just like me?”

The man studied her face, his gaze traveling from the tip of her head down the length of her body. “Hard to say when you’re covered from head to foot.”

Julia dropped the hat on the floor and slid her free hand beneath the shawl. Patting the bundle around her middle, she hesitated, reluctant to spring the next shock on a man who already didn’t trust a word she said. “Well, it’s true. We were sisters.” The ready tears sprang to her eyes, and she dashed them away with the edge of the shawl.

“Do you know what happened to her?” Tuck asked, his voice hard.

Julia nodded.

“Do you know why?” he asked next.

“Yes. That’s why I called you.”

“Why me? Why contact me after all this time?”

She drew in a long, steadying breath. The time had come to tell him the rest of the story. “We need help.”

“We? Seems a little late for your sister.”

Julia winced, actually hating this man for a minute for his callousness. Still, maybe it was better that he could be so calm, so detached. Heaven knew she couldn’t—not with so much at stake. Her sister was dead. She could be next. Her baby was at risk. All of that meant she had to convince Tuck to protect them. “I’m in trouble and need help.”

“What makes you think I’ll help you?” He glared at her. “You didn’t want anything to do with me a year ago. You didn’t even have the decency to say goodbye.”

Guilt lay heavily on Julia’s heart, but the strong sense of protectiveness she’d developed since the birth of her daughter won out. Protecting her daughter was more important to her than anything. For Lily’s sake, she would take whatever harsh words this man chose to throw at her. Besides, she knew she deserved them. Sneaking out of the hotel room, running off with no explanation and ending their marriage long-distance, without laying eyes on the man again… It had been a weak, cowardly thing to do. She knew that. But now she had no choice but to be brave—for her baby’s sake, if not for her own.

With a deep, indrawn breath, Julia laid the gun on the television console and, grasping the corner of the shawl, lifted it up over her head, dropping it to the floor.

For several seconds, Tuck studied her, his brow furrowing. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just stared at her middle.

Then Lily moved, a tiny hand peeking out from the fabric of the sling, waving in the air.

“Tuck Thunder Horse, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but meet Lily.” Julia swallowed hard and continued, “Your baby girl.”