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Madeline Dunn? “Possible? How did you come up with a name so quickly?”
“Dental records. I queried the dentists in the largest town within about one hundred miles of Gilt Edge, faxed them the X-rays and got a hit the first try. Great Falls, Montana, 106 miles away.” He listened while the coroner thumbed through some paperwork. “An eighteen-year-old had an abscessed tooth pulled at the dentist there. But what made him remember the girl and her mouth was that she had four wisdom teeth on each side, something so strange that the dentist took her X-rays down the hall to show another dentist. Very rare apparently.”
“That was lucky.”
“It was twenty-three years ago. She had no insurance or identification, but she wrote him a check that bounced. The account had been closed. Madeline Dunn never returned and the dentist never got his money. He’d always wondered if she’d had trouble with all those wisdom teeth.”
“Wait, twenty-three years ago?” Flint asked. He thought of the story Tucker had told him. It added up perfectly, including that Madeline Ross had been older than she’d told his brother. And obviously more experienced.
“That would make our deceased about twenty-two,” Sonny was saying. “Am I good, or what?”
Flint laughed. “You’re good, but like you said, it was all in the bones.”
“So true, but someone has to read them. As good as I am, though, you might want to wait until we get the DNA back before you try to track down next of kin. Up to you.”
“Thanks for letting me know, Sonny. Clawson Creek, huh? I think I’ll hold off until we see what the DNA might bring up.”
“As you wish,” the coroner said.
* * *
TUCKER REACHED HIS PICKUP. He still didn’t see his brothers around. They must be out in one of the pastures. Well, he didn’t have time to find them right now. He had to catch the woman before she could leave town.
Assuming that was her plan. He climbed behind the wheel of his truck, started up the engine and tore up the road. He knew his way around Gilt Edge. As he drove, he debated where she might be headed. There weren’t that many ways out of town.
The one plate number that he’d been able to make out before she’d gotten too far away had been the first one. Five. Five was Helena, the state capital. The shortest way back to the state capital was the highway to the west. So that meant she would have to drive through downtown Gilt Edge to reach it.
He raced into town, all the time looking for the SUV. Like most rural Montana towns, there were more pickups than cars or SUVs. That pretty pearl-white one would stand out like a marquee. Also, she wasn’t that far ahead of him.
A thought struck him, though. What if she knew the area as well as he did because she’d been here before with Madeline? There were at least six times when Madeline had come to see him to get more money or a favor out of him.
He was still confused by what he’d seen at the creek. The apparent grief, the crying and then the desecration on the primitive grave site. Very strange behavior. He had to wonder about the woman he was chasing.
Tucker thought about calling Flint but stopped himself. While he was sorry he hadn’t gone to his brother for help all those years ago, he couldn’t see any reason to involve the sheriff at this point. Not yet, anyway. But if the woman he was searching for knew Madeline...
If Tucker could get some answers on his own from this mysterious woman, he had to try. Madeline and whoever had been helping her owed him that, though it wouldn’t make up for the past or the years he’d lost.
As he drove, looking for the pearl-white SUV, he told himself that if the woman he’d seen at the creek had been in on the scam with Madeline, then she could be dangerous. Maybe even more dangerous than Madeline.
When he found her, he would get answers. But one thought haunted him. Was he really ready to learn the truth? Even knowing it was a scam, he still wanted to believe that Madeline had cared. He remembered the look on her face that night on the bridge. There had been real pain in her eyes. He couldn’t be wrong about that.
But what if he was wrong?
Even dead, she can break your heart again.
He told himself he wasn’t that horny, green teen Madeline had seduced. Also, he’d already had his heart broken by her. No woman had gotten to him after Madeline. He wasn’t sure any woman could. Not even Madeline herself could break his heart worse after the torment she’d put him through—let alone anything her coconspirator could tell him.
* * *
KATE ROTHSCHILD GLANCED in her rearview mirror. No sign of anyone after her. She’d been so sure the cowboy would try to chase her down after what he’d witnessed.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, determined not to cry again. She couldn’t believe the way she’d broken down at the creek. But seeing that grave and knowing who’d lain in it all this time... She’d held back her pain for too many years and for all the wrong reasons. The grief had come out of nowhere and everywhere. She’d felt like a wounded animal and was sure she’d sounded like one, as well.
Seeing the cowboy on the bridge... She’d thought she’d been alone. She’d purposely waited for law enforcement to leave with their buckets of dirt. The last thing she’d wanted was for anyone to see her there, especially sobbing her heart out.
As she drove toward the small Western town of Gilt Edge, she assured herself that everything would be fine. She’d been right to come here. Not that anything could have stopped her. But she should have known she wasn’t the only one interested in the spot where the woman had been found.
She glanced in her rearview mirror again and smiled. A pickup was tearing down the road behind her. Her pulse leaped at the sight. It was the cowboy; she’d bet on it.
Still smiling, she thought about speeding up and giving him a run for his money. But she was at the edge of town and there was a deputy sitting in his patrol car right by the city-limits sign. She had no choice but to slow down. The truck was gaining on her. If the cowboy wasn’t careful, the deputy would pull him over.
The driver of the pickup slowed. He was right behind her now. She could see his collar-length dark hair under his Stetson. It was the same man. She glimpsed his dark expression and felt a shiver.
Her heart began to pound as she considered what he might do next. He definitely had come after her. Why else was he now riding her bumper? She couldn’t help but wonder what he made of her...behavior at the creek. It appeared she would find out soon enough.
She doubted he was ready for her, Kate thought as she pulled her shoulder bag closer. She wouldn’t need the handgun in it, she told herself, but she wasn’t taking any chances.
* * *
TUCKER COULDN’T BELIEVE IT. He’d caught up to her before she’d reached town. There was no doubt it was the woman from the creek. And she’d seen him. Their eyes had met in her rearview mirror and he’d seen recognition.
He’d also seen the deputy sitting on the edge of town with his radar gun out. Tucker had had no choice but to slow down. Still, there was no way she was getting out of his sight. He would follow her until she pulled over even if it meant following her all the way to Helena.
To his surprise, she pulled over into the Yogo Inn, the local downtown hotel. He swung in behind her but waited for her to get out of her SUV before he exited his pickup. He didn’t trust this woman after what he’d seen at the creek.
She climbed out after reaching into the back seat for her overnight bag. As she closed and locked her car door, she turned to look at him. There appeared to be amusement in her expression, before she headed for the front door of the hotel.
Jumping out of his pickup, he went after her. She had no chance against his long legs. Even at thirty-six he could still run like he had when he’d played football in high school.
“Hold up!” he called to her slim back. On the bridge he hadn’t gotten a good look at her. She’d been wearing a jean jacket so he hadn’t seen her figure. Now she wore only a T-shirt and jeans, and filled out both in an appealing way that momentarily distracted him.
Also, at the creek, her hair had been covered by a baseball cap. Now her long dark hair fell in a riot of loose curls down to the middle of her back. As she moved, it swayed in luxurious shiny ebony waves.
“Miss!”
She pretended not to hear him, he was sure of it. But she wasn’t getting away. This woman was the closest he’d come to knowing who Madeline Ross really had been—and maybe what she’d been capable of.
He quickly caught up to her and, grabbing one slim arm, spun her around to face him. He was momentarily startled by her wide green eyes in a face that could have stopped traffic. Her cheekbones were high, her mouth bow-shaped.
He’d expected her to be alarmed. Or at least frightened by having a man accost her in a hotel parking lot. But as she stared back at him from the depths of all that emerald green, he only saw a curious regard. Her lips parted slightly as if waiting to be kissed before turning up at the corners in more pronounced amusement.
Taken aback, he had trouble finding his voice.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asked as he quickly released her arm.
“Sorry,” he said as he stared her. She was definitely the woman from the creek, but she wasn’t at all what he’d been expecting. He’d assumed since she’d known Madeline that she would be more like her. This woman was much more refined, educated and apparently well-off. It seemed impossible that she could have been working with Madeline all those years ago.
So how did he explain what he’d seen at the creek?
He couldn’t and for a moment he didn’t know what was going to come out of his mouth. “I’m sorry. I thought you were...” He shook his head.
She hadn’t moved, hadn’t turned and run; she hadn’t even tried to put a little distance between them. Instead, she was studying him with those wide-open green eyes. If anything, he saw interest in those eyes.
“Is there something I can help you with?” she asked, sounding genuinely concerned for him.
It made him angry. He should be concerned for her, given what he’d seen. What was worse was that he realized that this woman couldn’t possibly be the person who’d been working with Madeline all those years ago. She wasn’t old enough.
He felt like an even bigger fool. But still, he hadn’t imagined what he’d seen at the creek. But what had he seen?
“I saw you at the creek earlier.” He waited for her to explain. She didn’t. “You seemed upset.”
“Did I? Is that why you chased me down?”
“I got the feeling that you had some connection to the woman whose remains were found in the creek. I must have been wrong.”
“No, you’re not wrong.”
That stopped him in his tracks. “I beg your pardon?”
“What did she call herself?”
He felt as if he’d fallen down a rabbit hole. “I’m sorry, who are we talking about?”
“The woman who broke your heart.”
“Oh, her,” he said with a laugh. “Are we still talking about the woman found in the creek?”
“Only if she’s the one who broke your heart. Oh, I see. She did. I thought as much. Do I remind you of her?” she asked and tucked a lock of her dark hair behind one ear. A diamond earring winked in the sunlight.
“No, she couldn’t hold a candle to you,” he admitted truthfully. In retrospect, everything about Madeline had been disingenuous from her blond hair to her name. While everything about this woman was the real thing. Not that any of that had mattered when he was seventeen and in love for the very first time.
Tucker realized he was staring again—and having an even harder time following this conversation. He shook his head. “Sorry, I’m confused.”
She chuckled. “I’m not surprised.” She held out her hand. “Katherine Rothschild, but my friends call me Kate.”
“Tucker Cahill.” Her hand was small and warm, the skin silken, the manicured nails a sweet pale pink. “Rothschild,” he repeated and held on to her hand a little too long. Anyone who had ever lived in Montana knew that name. “Your father—”
“Is the former senator and now a congressman in Washington, DC.”
Clayton Rothschild was a mover and shaker in DC and one of the wealthiest men in the state. He owned almost as much land in Montana as Ted Turner.
“Cahill? Any relation to Sheriff Flint Cahill?”
“He’s my brother.” He frowned, suddenly wondering how a young woman like her—let alone a Rothschild—would know Flint. Not to mention what she’d been doing down by the creek earlier. She still hadn’t explained what he’d seen. All she’d done was confuse him.
“You said you do have a connection to the dead woman?” He was having trouble believing that.
She smiled. “And so do you, I’m guessing. Do they have a positive identification on her yet?”
“Not that I’ve heard. How do you know all this?”
“About the skeletal remains being found? From the news. That’s why I’m here. I’d planned to speak to your brother Flint. But it was nice to meet you instead. Well, I better get checked in before they give my room away.”
“Wait,” he said, realizing she’d sidestepped almost every question he’d asked her. “You haven’t told me what you were doing at the creek earlier. I heard you crying. I also saw you spit on the woman’s grave.”
Kate Rothschild nodded, smiling. “Nor have you told me what she called herself, this woman who broke your heart.”
“Madeline.”
“Well, in that case, you should buy me dinner tonight,” Kate said. “It appears we have some things in common.”
“That’s all you’re going to say?”
“Of course not. Pick me up at seven.” With that, she turned and headed into the hotel.
Tucker watched her go.
“It was nice meeting you, Tucker Cahill,” she said over her shoulder an instant before the door closed behind her.
* * *
KATE HAD JUST stepped into the hotel when her cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID and saw that it was her mother calling again. She pocketed her phone and proceeded to get checked in. Her mind kept straying in the direction of Tucker Cahill. She was still embarrassed that he’d witnessed her breakdown at the creek. But in a twist of fate, it had all worked out better than she’d planned. And now she was having dinner with him tonight.
Strike while the iron is hot, she thought and realized that she’d just used one of her mother’s expressions. That was a sour thought.
Once in her room, she walked to the window and looked out on Gilt Edge. It was named after one of the gold mines back in the mountains that surrounded the town. Her phone rang again. She’d thought it was her mother again, but it was her father’s personal assistant, Peter.
He was the last person she wanted to talk to considering their last discussion.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Peter had asked before she’d flown home to Helena. She’d been in DC on an errand for her father when she’d heard about the young woman’s remains being found in Miner’s Creek—next to the Cahill Ranch. She’d been anxious to return to Montana as quickly as possible. Peter had insisted on dinner before her flight, and even before the entrées arrived, she’d regretted saying yes.
“I’m going home,” she’d said, pretending she didn’t know what Peter was referring to. While her father spent most of his time in Washington, DC, her mother preferred living outside Helena on the ranch. It was there that Kate and her brother had grown up.
“You’re opening a Pandora’s box,” Peter had argued. “Think about what it could do to your father’s career.”
She had thrown down her napkin and pushed to her feet. “Her bones have been found. The box is already open.”
“For God’s sake, Katie, sit back down before you embarrass us both.”
“I’m going to finish this—come hell or high water and no one, especially you, can stop me. And I’m not your Katie.” With that, she’d walked out, caught the flight home and then driven to Gilt Edge.
Her cell phone rang again. Her mother. She knew she couldn’t keep avoiding her so she picked up. “Hello, Mother.”
“Katherine.” The word was filled with reproach.
Her mother was Helena’s leading socialite. Kate knew that she liked being a big fish in a little pond, unlike getting lost in the crowd in DC where she was just another politician’s wife.
But Mamie Rothschild would never admit that. Just as she would never admit there were any bad memories in that big old house outside Helena. Her mother didn’t allow herself to acknowledge anything unpleasant. Her strong resilient mother was a survivor, she thought grudgingly, and she’d raised Kate to be one, as well.
