Breaking the Bad Boy (29 page)

“He might not even know why yet.”

“But you think you do?”

“Yes,” she said, and the woman waited, but Joss waited, too.

“Why does he call you Duchess?”

“Because he’s Duke.” Joss looked at her uncomprehending face and she heard the man’s tinned laughter from the woman’s earpiece again. Joss was glad someone was being entertained by her interrogation. The woman was completely flustered and made a point of looking at her notes to gather herself.

“Why did you make up the story about the Frenchman’s gold?”

“That is not a yes or no question.”

“Just answer it.” Agent Bun was getting impatient with her.

“I didn’t make up the entire story, I simply embellished it. I was probably seven years old, I was entertaining my little brother,” Joss said.

“Why did your mother say she was there when your father found the gold?”

“That was the first I’ve heard of it,” Joss said.

“Do you know how your brother died?

“Yes.”

“How did you know where to find Special Agent Fields?”

“Cassidy said where he was, did you find him? Is he all right?”

“Are you a real blonde?” Joss had to smile at that, why did the FBI need to know her true hair color? They were trying to throw her off her guard again. She laughed.

“Ask Buck. Are we through here?” Agent Bun put her hand to her ear and then looked at the mirror on the wall and nodded.

“Yes, wait here and someone will take you to your cell,” she said.

“My cell?” Joss said.

“You can’t get away with murder, Miss Erickson,” she smirked and took her equipment out of the room.

“Wait.” Agent Bun hesitated at the open door. “Do you know anything more about Buck? Is he still living? Something.” Joss hated that her voice cracked on the last word.

“Agent Buckingham’s condition is no business of yours,” she said and closed the door.

“You bitch. Come on, Buck, fight for me,” Joss said and got up and walked to the mirror. “I know you’re there. You may frighten the bun but you don’t scare me.” This time she heard the laughter straight from the source.

Chapter Eleven

DENVER

A week later she was back at her apartment in
Denver
after having been detained in a small but comfortable cell for four days of what they called “debriefing.” Every day they asked her similar questions about Buck, her mother and the Frenchman’s gold. On the second day she got her period and she felt deflated. If Buck was dead, she had nothing of him.

On the fourth day she told them she was done, she would not answer another question until she was told something about Buck’s condition. They drove her back to Brent’s an hour later.

Poor Brent hadn’t been told anything. He didn’t know who to contact, and the sheriff thought he was delusional because he had heard nothing about any shootings. When Joss was let out at the top of the drive back in her bloody clothing she sighed and walked down the drive and into the house.

“Joss, where’d you come from?” Brent said standing up to greet her. “We had no idea what happened to you, you just disappeared.” He hugged her for a long time and when he let her go she looked at the floor where she and Buck fell while he bled from the bullet that was meant for her.

“Is Cassidy dead?” She asked without emotion.

“Yes, honey, the other fella, too, Lanier. Is Buck okay?” Brent asked. Joss stopped breathing. If she exhaled she knew she’d sob, and it would be all over. She looked away from Brent and walked to the kitchen.

“They won’t tell me anything,” she said when she could, and knew how bad it had been for Belle when the hospital cut her off from news of Brent’s recovery. She took a Diet Coke out of the fridge and stood holding it wondering what to do with it now.

“Brent, tell me what is going on,” she said.

“Honey, why don’t you take a shower, change your clothes,” he started.

“No, I’m tired of being in the dark,” she sat down at the kitchen table and opened her can of Diet Coke. “Begin at the beginning.”

Brent sat down across from her and took a deep breath, reaching for her hand. They squeezed. “You know that I grew up here. The room you sleep in was my room when I was a boy. My grandfather was a hard, quiet man, but my grandmother was sweet and baked the best cookies I’ve ever had.” He was looking into the kitchen seeing her there, over the stove, pulling a batch out of the oven. Joss knew that Brent’s mother had died in childbirth and he was mostly raised by his grandmother.

“I grew up here in this valley, from hard working stock, and from a very young age I knew about the Frenchman’s gold. There was supposed to be a huge stash, trunks of it, hidden away in a cave, here in the very valley we owned. It was hard not to get excited about it, like when you buy a Lotto ticket, you know you’re not going to win, but it’s fun to fantasize about what you’d do with the winnings.

“Then I met Cassidy. She was the prettiest little thing; I guess I lost my head a little. She drove into town in a baby blue Mustang and it was as if I’d been hit on the head with a mallet. She wasn’t the type to stick around; she told me that from the start. I wanted kids and a wife, she wanted to travel and have fun. And so I told her about the gold, thinking she might just stick around if she thought I was wealthy.

“A mistake, we can all see that now, but Joss, I just wasn’t using my brain, she had me by the er… well, you know, those first two years, I don’t understand it. I got you and Brand out of it, and I wouldn’t do anything differently because of that.

“We went for a ride down the river one beautiful summer day, and I found an old coin, an Ecu au Soleil from when Louis the Eleventh was king of
France
, in 1475! We were amazed and thrilled, and started spending every spare moment in the river. We never found a single thing after that, and Cassidy started to hate her trap.

“I may have been sitting on a gold mine, but I had a ranch to run, and kids to raise, since Cassidy didn’t seem terribly interested in that part of the job. She started stepping out on me, and pretty soon we stopped talking to each other and then finally we stopped… you know,” he was starting to get uncomfortable.

“You stopped talking to each other before you stopped having sex?”

“Cassidy really liked it, and well, I wasn’t going to say no, but when she was clearly cheating on me I did, I told her that was it, she had to go. Then Brand died, and it seemed like she was involved, and she then threatened you, that was the last straw. If I didn’t get rid of her I’d kill her, and then where would you be?”

“You found more gold, didn’t you?” She asked.

“Yes, three years ago I found seven pieces way upstream from the first place. I didn’t expect it to have tumbled so far downstream, but I guess it did. Then last year I found twenty six pieces upstream from there. I figure it’s all through this river valley, and we’ll never find the mother lode, but this keeps shoes on our feet.”

“Were they all Ecus?” Joss asked.

“No, they were French and Spanish, even some Portuguese, but they were all gold, and all pre-19th century.” He patted her hand. “Are you hungry?”

“No, I can barely drink this.”

“Will you tell me where you’ve been for the past few days, honey, I was worried sick,” he said.

“Buck,” her voice broke and she had to start again. “Buck was FBI, is FBI, I mean. He was after Lanier, and Cassidy, too. The FBI have been questioning me for the past few days, mostly asking about the Frenchman’s gold, but also about what happened to Buck and me when I was taken. They seem to think they have some claim on the gold.”

“Joss, why didn’t you ask me where in the river I found the gold?” Brent asked and she gave him a long look.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” His eyes went round.

“You know. How long have you known?” Brent asked astonished.

“Since I was eight,” she said quietly.

“Christ, Joss. Is it on Forest Service land?”

“No, it’s on the original parcel.” Brent stood up and then sat down abruptly.

“I don’t want it. I want you to have it. I know you wouldn’t choose this life of ranching and I want you to have that choice.”

“It has its charms, Brent. Did Fernando know about the gold you found?”

“Yes, he knew, he was there with me last year, and she killed him. He was my best friend, you know?”

“He was a good, kind man, too.”

“Can you tell me what happened when you were taken, Joss?” He asked shyly. She found she could, and she did.

***

There was still no word from Buck, and she had to think the worst, but she couldn’t help hoping for the best. Finally she went back to
Denver
.

Her friend Margie made her go out with her for a drink, but she could barely make it an hour before she begged off saying she had a headache. Margie walked her home, hugged her and went home to her own apartment.

The next morning Joss phoned the one person she knew who might be able to help her, and left a message with his secretary. Fifteen minutes later he called her back.

“Joss, I’ve got three and a half minutes before they’re going to wonder where I am, but
Sandy
said you called. Are you back in
Denver
? Is your father recovered? What’s up? You’ve kinda fallen off the grid.” The governor said.

“Peter, it’s so kind of you to call me back. My dad is fine, I am back in Denver and I’m afraid I need a favor, and you’re the most important person I know, I hoped you’d be able to help me. It’s going to take more than three and a half minutes to ask, I’m afraid.”

“Sixty seconds now,” he laughed. “Let me take you to dinner tonight.”

“Yes, but it’s my treat,” Joss said.

“Absolutely not, if you want me to do this favor, you play by my rules. Oh crap, that sounded like, well forget it, my treat, or no deal. Let me take you out to dinner, Joss. I have to go, here’s
Sandy
,” he said and a few seconds later
Sandy
came on the line.

“Miss Erickson?” She asked.

“Please, call me Joss,” she said.

“Joss, is 8:00 tonight okay, he has a conference call at 7:00 he should be finished with it by then?”

Peter had chosen a restaurant a half a block away from her apartment and Joss walked feeling hopeful for the first time since she left
Montana
. It was a warm and dry early September night and she breathed in the myriad city smells. Joss didn’t know quite how much she should or could tell Peter. Playing it by ear had always worked for her in the past, she hoped it worked tonight.

When she stepped into the restaurant exactly at 8:00 the Hostess smiled at her expectantly.

“Hi, I’m meeting someone,” she smiled at Joss.

“Are you meeting Peter?” She asked.

“Yes,” Joss said.

“Come right this way,” she said and Joss followed her to the very back of the nearly deserted restaurant.

Peter stood when he saw her come close to the table and smiled heartily at her. “How long have you been waiting?” She exclaimed. He bent his head to kiss her cheek.

“Not long at all, heck, you’re right on time. You look great; by the way, I love the new hairdo, you look like Marilyn Monroe, and peach is definitely your color.”

“Thank you, Peter, that’s very kind. It’s still a little summery, but it was so warm tonight I thought I could get away with it,” she said sitting in the chair he held for her. Her dress was a dark peach, sleeveless silk square necked dress that was very flattering, and the back was low enough that you could see the top part of two of her claw marks which she planned on showing him without taking off her dress if she could help it. She wore a thin silk scarf across her shoulders which she draped over the chair behind her.

“You could get away with anything, just bat those baby blues,” he said.

“Not my style, I’m afraid.”

“That’s too bad, I was kind of hoping you’d charm me into doing this favor for you,” he said looking disappointed.

“I just said it wasn’t my style, I’d rather have you do it out of the goodness of your heart so you walk away feeling like you’ve done the right thing. But, if you need me to bat my eyes, I can do that, too,” she said smiling.

“Hmm. The last time I spoke to you it was right when you got to
Montana
, your dad pulled through okay, though.” Peter said, avoiding the favor. Pleasure before business, she could play the game.

“Yes, he is a third generation cattle rancher, when his doctor told him no more beef he asked her, ‘What the hell else is there?’” She sounded just like Brent, and she smiled. Peter laughed. “At least he’s fit, he’s big and strong and very active, it was just the diet and the stress, and he hasn’t got an outlet.” She grimaced. “Peter, thank you for the flowers, so much happened while I was gone; I don’t know that I thanked you adequately enough.”