Lone Rider (11 page)

“I guess it was a bird.”

She pulled the bacon off the stove and headed for her daughter's room with Jodie leading the way.

“See. The bird came through the window and left dirt on my bed,” Jodie said.

Emily stared at the open window and the torn screen flapping in the breeze, then at the dirty footprints on her daughter's bed.

She grabbed Jodie and pulled her into a tight hug as her mind raced. Was the person still in the house?

There was only one room she hadn't looked in. “Stay here. Mommy needs to do something.”

As she headed toward the bathroom, she saw that the door was closed. She made a detour to pick up the baseball bat she kept by the front door.

At the bathroom, she eased the door open with the business end of the bat.

Empty. She stepped in to make sure no one was behind the shower curtain before she breathed a sigh of relief.

The relief, though, only lasted an instant.
Someone had been in her house.

The question was who and, on its heels, why?

* * *

A
S
J
ACE
CAME
back up the mountainside to where he'd left his horse, he found more odd tracks. He stopped, crouched down and studied them. His pulse took off like a shot as he realized what he was seeing. Bo's horse's prints in the dust followed by the tracks of a woman's boots.

Why would Bo be following her horse? That made no sense. Except for the familiar man's boot prints in the dust. He looked up the trail.
The man was now riding the horse and Bo was walking?

What the hell?

Climbing back on his horse, he began to follow the new tracks. They still headed farther back into the mountains, but he noticed that Bo's boot prints were becoming more and more indistinguishable as he rode—as if she was dragging her feet. It was almost as if she was being— The thought was lost as he saw a spot in the trail where something had been dragged.

He let out a curse and looked up the mountainside. Heart pounding, he spurred his horse. He'd thought she'd met the man up here. Now he didn't know what to think. Had the man double-crossed her? Had he only been after the money? That was if Bo really had taken the money from the foundation and run with it.

None of this made any sense. But he moved faster now, even more confused by what he was seeing. The trail wound through the pines. He dropped down a mountainside, crossed a shallow creek and climbed again, switchbacking up the next mountain. It was getting late by the time he found where they had camped the night before.

Swinging down from his saddle, he inspected the site. The ground had been disturbed around the small fire pit. He found the man's tracks but not Bo's. Glancing at the nearby creek, he started toward it, when he found the barefoot tracks in the dust. Like the handprint, they were woman-size. Bo.

He looked at the angle of the sun and calculated how many hours he was behind them before climbing back on his horse. As he started down the trail, he realized that the man was now walking. Did that mean Bo was riding the horse? It would appear that way since he'd seen her tracks at the campsite.

Worry burrowed into him as he rode. He had to catch them, and yet daylight was waning. He'd been gone more than twenty-four hours. All his instincts told him he had to find Bo Hamilton—and soon.

CHAPTER TWELVE

B
UCKMASTER
HAD
PLANNED
to send men into the mountains to look for Bo, but the sheriff had talked him into waiting until he heard from the pilot who'd gone up to look for her.

When Buckmaster got the call, he snatched up the phone, praying the pilot had seen her.

“All he saw was a cowboy headed in,” Frank said. “We're assuming it was Jace Calder since you told us he was tracking Bo. Senator, he was way back and still riding farther into the mountains. I've talked to search and rescue, but given the area that we're going to have to cover... I think Jace Calder might be your best bet. Apparently he's on her trail. Also, there's a storm coming in. It could mean snow in the mountains, and that would hamper a search.”

“I just can't believe she went that far,” Buckmaster said.

Frank cleared his throat. “Is there any chance she's on the run? Because if that is the case, then we need to know now.”

The senator swore. He hated the way gossip moved through this county faster than the winds that blew down out of the Crazies.

“Is there a chance she only wanted us to believe she'd gone into the mountains?” Frank asked.

“No. Her vehicle is out front. She left her purse and all of her credit cards in it. She didn't even take her cell phone no doubt since she knew it doesn't work up there worth a darn.” Buckmaster felt his face crumple as he fought back tears. When he spoke, his voice broke. “I know my daughter. She wouldn't...”

“We'll try to find her, Senator,” Frank said. “Keep me informed if you hear anything. Search and rescue will have to get prepared, so I doubt we can do anything until morning given how far she's apparently gone.”

“I'm going to send some men up to look for her.”

“I wouldn't do that. Let search and rescue handle it. Too many people up in those mountains will only make it harder. If she's as far back in as Jace Calder seems to think she is, it would take more than a day for your men to catch up anyway. There is some flat land farther back where search and rescue might be able to set down a helicopter and get a party out looking.”

Buckmaster could hear the sense in what the sheriff was saying. He wanted to get on a horse himself and ride out, but he realized the foolishness of that. “All right,” he finally agreed. “Tomorrow morning.” Jace had said to give him twenty-four hours before sending in the cavalry. He was sending in the cavalry tomorrow. He just hoped it wasn't too late for his daughter.

He disconnected only to have the phone ring again. Hoping it was Bo or at least word about her, he quickly picked up.

“What's wrong?” Sarah asked the moment he answered.

“Sarah.” When he'd seen her, he hadn't told her about Bo because he didn't want to worry her. That wasn't the only reason. She hadn't been a part of her daughters' lives for so long, he'd almost felt as if she didn't have a right.

But damn it to hell, she
was
Bo's mother. Now he felt guilty for keeping it from her.

“Buck, I know something's wrong. What is it?”

“Bo's gone up in the mountains and hasn't come back out yet.” He filled her in on what little he knew.

“You sound scared.”

He realized that if he didn't tell her, she'd hear about it eventually anyway. “There's a problem down at the foundation, missing money apparently. Bo was supposed to meet with the auditor yesterday morning. She took off up into the mountains Saturday afternoon on what we thought was a weekend camping trip.”

“You think she took the money?”

“No. She has no reason to take the money,” he snapped, angry that she would even ask that. “Something must have happened up in the mountains. One man has already gone up tracking her to see if he can find her, and tomorrow the sheriff is involving search and rescue.”

“I hate those mountains,” Sarah said. “They've always terrified me.”

He blinked, astounded by her words. Had he known that? He thought about what the sheriff had told him. He would have argued that he knew Sarah better than anyone. But after everything that had transpired? He didn't know her as well as he'd thought.

“But you didn't call about Bo,” he said. “Is something wrong?”

“No, you're going to think I'm silly. I just wanted to see if the cell phone you gave me worked.”

“I don't think that's silly at all,” he said, recalling how he had planned to do the same thing and would have if Angelina hadn't interrupted him. “I need to see you. I'm coming up to the cabin.”

“No,” she said quickly. “I'd rather meet at the swimming hole.” It was a spot not far out of Beartooth where they'd spent time together so many years ago. “Russell just drove up. I'm sure he'll take me. I can be there in thirty minutes.”

Gritting his teeth, he told himself not to make an issue of Russell right now. Once he was with Sarah... “See you then.”

* * *

F
EELING
THE
DAY
slipping away, Jace stopped on a high rise to search the mountains ahead with his binoculars. He kept thinking he would catch a glimpse of them at some point on one of the mountainsides ahead.

Bo and her companion were traveling faster today, making better time than yesterday. But then, so was Jace. He could feel that he was getting closer. It was only a matter of time before he caught up.

But then what? Bo wasn't alone. Near the drag marks, he'd seen where a rope had cut into the earth.

What were they dragging up into the mountains? The money? A body?

What he'd seen made no sense. It was another reason he was anxious to catch up to Bo. But he was also wary. Something about this felt...wrong.

He put away his binoculars and gathered up the reins. The sun had set beyond the peaks to the west. Cool air moved restlessly through the shadowy pines. It wouldn't be long before he couldn't follow their trail any longer.

He wanted to push on. He knew he was getting close. Maybe too close. What if they had already spotted him following them? He didn't want to stumble into anything he wouldn't be walking away from. He needed to be more careful than ever since he had no idea who Bo was with or how desperate she was to get away.

He spurred his horse and headed on down the trail. They would be stopping soon to make camp if the tracks he'd been following were any indication. The man was limping, his boots worn thin. That was another thing that bothered Jace. Who was this man she was traveling with that he didn't have proper boots if Bo had stolen a potful of money? Why didn't the man have his own horse? Or had something happened to it?

So many questions, all of them making him more anxious to get to Bo.

* * *

B
UCKMASTER
KICKED
SMALL
rocks into the stream as he waited for Sarah to arrive. When he heard Russell drive up, he didn't turn around. The less he saw of the man, the better. He hadn't been able to sleep last night except in fits and starts. He'd finally gotten up, cranky and out of sorts.

Bo still hadn't returned. He was beyond worried. Something was wrong. He could feel it, and that only made him more frustrated and irritable.

Even Angelina had known to give him a wide berth this afternoon. When he'd told her he was meeting Sarah, he'd expected her to put up a fight. But she'd said nothing as he'd left.

At the sound of a pickup door opening and closing, he waited, keeping his back to the road until he heard Sarah's tread on the bank behind him and stepped out of the shade as she came toward him.

She looked beautiful, her blond hair like spun gold in the dramatic light of afternoon. She must have bought herself some clothes, because she was wearing what appeared to be new clothing. When had she gone shopping since she was hiding out from the media?

He hadn't meant to voice the thought, but apparently had when she answered his question.

“Russell picked up a few things for me in town,” she said.

Russell. Of course. “The man has good taste.”

“I hope you didn't get me here to argue about Russell,” she said with a sigh.

He shook his head. He wanted to pull her to him. To comfort her as much as himself. It had been so long that he couldn't remember what it was like hugging let alone kissing her, and that made him sad. They'd shared years together as well as six children. He could no more forget that than he could take his next breath.

While he could deny his feelings for this woman until the cows came home, it was a totally different story when she was standing in front of him. She was his true love. He'd married Angelina because Sarah had been gone for seven years. Angelina had been a marriage of convenience. But Sarah...

“I've missed you,” he said, again voicing the thought without thinking. “The past twenty-two years,” he added.

She smiled sadly, but she kept her distance from him as if wary of him. What was that about? “I've missed you and my girls, as well.”

Missed me and the girls?
She didn't sound as though she had. A woman who missed her husband and children didn't stay away twenty-two years.

“Have you heard from Bo?” she asked.

He played down his concern half hoping that by doing so there really wasn't anything to worry about. “There are people looking for her. If we don't hear something today, I'll be going up in the mountains to look for her myself.”

“Oh, she has to be all right. I need more time to get to know my daughters. I haven't hardly seen them, not with their busy lives and the press hounding me.” She looked embarrassed. “I don't mean to complain but between me turning up and you running for president, we seem to have set reporters off. I keep thinking they will tire of this and let me live a normal life.”

Buckmaster wondered what she thought a normal life was. Certainly not being married to the next president of the United States.

He was used to public scrutiny, but apparently she wasn't. If she'd been in the public eye the past twenty-two years, then the sheriff and FBI would have discovered where she'd been. So for Sarah this must be agony. She'd never liked being in the limelight. Or at least, the Sarah he had known hadn't. She didn't even like her photograph taken. He had lots of photos of the girls but not many of their mother before she'd left them. What few there'd been, Angelina had apparently discarded.

A thought struck him. Had Sarah gotten rid of all the photos of herself before she'd headed for the iced-over Yellowstone River that winter night?

He was beginning to realize that he didn't know this Sarah. But then again, maybe Angelina was right and he'd never known the other one, either.

The problem was that he remembered the feel of her body, the scent of her skin, the taste of her... He would have sworn twenty-two years ago that he knew this woman better than he knew himself. But, he reminded himself, he would have been wrong, because he never saw the suicide attempt coming.

“I need to ask you something. It's...personal.” He glanced toward the pickup parked on the road above the stream. He didn't see Russell, but he knew the man was there waiting. Maybe even trying to listen. But the sound of the rushing water and the breeze in the trees should make it difficult if not impossible if they kept their voices down.

“If this is about Russell—”

“Sarah, do you have a tattoo?”

She stared at him for a long moment before she laughed. “That's your question?”

“Do you?”

“No.” She looked shocked that he would even ask. Maybe he still knew her better than he thought. “Why would I get a tattoo?”

“That's a good question. The doctor and his wife who took you in after you stumbled out of the woods and into Russell Murdock's pickup...the wife saw a tattoo.”

Her eyes widened. “Who told you that I—”

“The sheriff.”

She turned away as if embarrassed. “I knew everyone was talking about me, but—”

“It's on your right buttock. If it exists and isn't just some old woman's imagination running wild...”

Sarah turned back to him. “Wouldn't I know if I had a tattoo?”

He shrugged. Wouldn't she know where she'd been for years? Or how she'd suddenly reappeared? “There's something else. The sheriff said you returned to Beartooth in a rather unique way. You parachuted in and not with just any chute. It was one that allows the pilot to fly low, the kind used in special ops.”

“That's...ridiculous.” Her voice broke. “Why would he say something like that?”

“Frank Curry wouldn't unless it was true.”

She shook her head then glanced toward a spot on the creek where the trees were thicker.

He watched as she stepped over to trees, out of sight of Russell sitting in the truck up on the road. She hesitated for a moment and then peeled down the top of her pants and panties.

Buckmaster moved closer, saw nothing and felt a rush of relief until she pulled the fabric down a little farther. He cursed under his breath.

There it was. The design the sheriff had shown him. Not as crude as the drawing, but it didn't look professionally done. He thought of the jailhouse tattoos he'd seen on television.

“Buck?” She sounded scared. “Tell me there's nothing there.”

He wished he could. “It's there, a tattoo. But it's more like a brand. You really didn't know it was there?”

She pulled up her pants and turned to look at him. Tears welled in her eyes as she shook her head.

He could see how scared she was. But when her gaze met his, he saw something that shocked him. “What?” he demanded at the accusation in her eyes.

“Did you have anything to do with this?”

Buckmaster stared at her. “The tattoo?” he asked incredulously. “You think I was the one who...branded you? Or you think I was flying the plane that dropped you back here?”