Matt (6 page)

“My pleasure, Nessa.” The cook was beaming.

Vanessa turned to the others, but before she could say her good-byes, there was a loud knock on the door.

Burke opened it to admit the sheriff and his deputy, who hung their hats on a hook and cleaned their boots on a rough boot-scrubbing mat before stepping into the kitchen.

Eugene Graystoke was a plainspoken, take-charge man who came from a long line of ranchers. Smart, dependable, and tough, he'd been sheriff for over twenty-five years. From the beginning, he'd quickly earned the trust of the folks in Glacier Ridge, who called on him for everything from a drunken ranch hand driving on the wrong side of the road to a family squabble that ended up in a brawl. He even aided in trailing an errant bull or two, when they managed to break through a section of fence.

His deputy, Archer Stone, had grown up in Glacier Ridge with Patrick and Bernadette. Ruggedly handsome, he walked with a swagger that was always more pronounced when he was in uniform.

After greeting the family, Eugene turned to Vanessa. “You'd be Miss Kettering?”

She seemed surprised. “I am. And you are…?”

“Sheriff Eugene Graystoke, ma'am. My deputy, Archer Stone.” The sheriff cleared his throat. “I was contacted by a Captain Dan McBride of the Cook County PD. You know him?”

She nodded. “I know of him.”

The two men accepted coffee from Yancy before Eugene took a seat at the table and his deputy remained standing behind him.

The sheriff fixed Vanessa with a piercing look. “As I understand it, you accepted a flight on a corporate jet headed to Helena.”

“That's right. But—”

He held up a hand. “I'll talk, ma'am. You'll just do me the courtesy of listening.”

Seeing the grins on the faces of those around her, Vanessa felt heat stain her cheeks and fought to compose her features. It was obvious to her that this man was accustomed to taking charge.

“The jet made a quick stop at Glacier Ridge, then immediately after depositing a lone passenger—” he peered over the rims of his glasses “—it continued on to Helena. Anyone tracking that flight figured all its passengers were going directly to Helena.”

“Tracking the flight…?” At his upturned palm she compressed her lips together and made a quick nod of her head.

“Good.” He looked around at the others, aware that he had their complete attention. “Now, ma'am, this is where it gets tricky.”

T
he family stared at Sheriff Graystoke with matching looks of puzzlement.

At their frowns, he held up a cell phone. “This was delivered to me by the Montana State Police. I'm told it's untraceable. Like they use on those spy thrillers on TV. When we're ready for a conference call, I'm to dial the number of Elliott Kettering.”

“My father…?”

Without a word the sheriff entered the number in the speed dial, then turned on the speaker.

Seconds later an image came into focus on the phone's screen.

“Nessa?”

“Dad…” Vanessa reached for the phone, but the sheriff shook his head and continued holding it facing her as the others gathered around to watch and listen.

“Vanessa, this is Captain McBride.”

Vanessa could make out the police officer's face next to her father's.

“Sorry, Elliott,” he said to the man beside him. “I think it best if I set the scene, so to speak.”

“I don't understa—”

McBride cut off Vanessa's protest. “As you know, your father's office has been involved in a very high-profile case.”

Vanessa nodded. “DePietro.”

“Exactly. In the past few days, the accused saw his airtight alibi fall apart on the witness stand. If convicted, Diomedes DePietro will be going away for a very long time. At his age, he'll likely die in prison. A very well-connected man like that, about to see his empire crumble, will often resort to anything to remain free. In this case, immediately after the trial ended yesterday, your father received a threat stating that if his office continued its prosecution of this case, he would lose his most precious possession.”

Vanessa looked at the image of her father in the phone.

“Nessa, he was telling me very plainly that his people would go after you.”

“But I—”

“These people don't make idle threats. I have no doubt your life is in danger. The exact words were, ‘Unless a mistrial is declared, Kettering will pay with the life of the one he holds most dear.' That can only be you, Nessa.”

“And then,” Captain McBride added, “when we got word that the plane parked in Helena, the same plane that would be bringing you home, had been damaged, we feared the worst.”

“Damaged? It was a storm—”

“And how do you know that?” the police captain asked. “The fact that it happened during a storm just makes the local authorities reluctant to consider that it might have been a criminal act. But taken with this threat, it's far more likely that the damage to the landing gear was man-made and not the result of any storm. That's why we have federal agents going over every inch of that plane right now.”

Her father ran a hand through his hair. “I've been trying to reach you ever since I got that threat. Then, when I heard about the damage to the plane, I was desperate to hear from you. But when you never answered—”

“What about Clayton Anderson and the crew? Were they injured? “

“No serious injuries,” Captain McBride's voice rang out. “The hospital in Helena reported that all are doing fine. But they had no report of a female passenger.”

“Oh, Dad. I didn't know. The storm made it impossible to communicate. And then when I tried to call you, I couldn't get through. Not even at your office.” She studied his haggard appearance. “I can only imagine what you've been going through.”

He gave a weary shake of his head.

Captain McBride cleared his throat. “The fact that you couldn't get through was no coincidence.”

Vanessa's brow shot up.

“We insisted on taking all the phones that had any messages from DePietro to our lab to be tested for evidence. That included both your father's cell phone and his office phones.”

Vanessa swallowed. “Then you think there's a very real possibility that this man intends to make good on his threat.”

The police captain's voice deepened with authority. “Until all the tests on the plane are completed, we will continue to believe that it was a first attempt. We aren't foolish enough to believe it will be the last. DePietro's network is vast. That's why we've suggested that you be taken to a safe house until this trial is over.”

“A safe house?” Her voice rose with anger. “You must be kidding.”

Her father's tone was abrupt. “This is serious, deadly business, Nessa. Until this trial ends, I need to know you're safe from DePietro's threats, if I'm to be free to do my job.”

“What about
my
job, Dad? What am I supposed to do for the weeks, maybe months, that this trial goes on?”

Captain McBride interrupted. “Are you saying your job is as critical as your father's?”

Elliott Kettering held up a hand before Vanessa could say a word. “The captain doesn't mean to insinuate that my job is more important than yours, honey. Right now, we're all feeling a little shell-shocked, and we may be careless with our words.” He took a breath. “Nessa, when I couldn't reach you, I went through hell and back.”

His daughter fought back a sudden sting of tears. “I can't even imagine what you were thinking. I'm sorry, Dad. The Malloy Ranch is huge, and much of it is wilderness. Matthew Malloy explained that they often can't get phone service in such remote areas. So I didn't really think much about the fact that I couldn't reach you.”

“Which was fortunate for all of us,” the captain remarked. “If we couldn't track you, neither could DePietro's people. That's why I've asked Sheriff Graystoke to take your cell phone and replace it with one from our lab that can't be tracked.”

“But all my contacts—”

“—will be transferred to your new phone. But I'll ask you to keep your calls to a minimum while you are at a safe house.”

Though Matt had remained silent during this exchange, he looked at his family.

As if reading his mind, his grandmother gave a quick nod of her head.

He broke his silence, in an aside to Vanessa. “If you don't like the idea of staying at a safe house, what would you think about spending time here?”

“And hide?” She looked horrified. “I have a job to do.”

Matt nodded. “And you were doing it in Montana. You could continue doing it.” Before she could protest, he added, “My family's ranch is the perfect place to be able to see and study wild animals in their natural habitat, and nobody around here will even question your presence.”

“But you forget. Somebody knew I'd gone to Montana, if the captain's theory about the damage to the plane is correct.”

The police captain shook his head. “Montana is a big place. The plane was damaged in Helena. That suggests that DePietro's people assume you're there. And now, since the place is crawling with feds, they've lost their only lead.”

“But the pilot had to file a flight plan.” Sheriff Graystoke spoke in staccato tones. “If these people look into it, they'll know the plane made a brief stop in Glacier Ridge.”

Elliott Kettering's voice sounded as weary as he looked. “Nessa, taking you to a safe house will put my mind at ease. I'm not comfortable allowing a family I've never met to take my daughter into their home and see to her safety—”

“I can see to my own safety”—her voice lowered with repressed annoyance—“thank you.”

At her outburst, Elliott gave his daughter a gentle smile. “Yes, you can. And always have. Don't you see? I need to be assured of your safety if I'm to do my job. There hasn't been time to investigate the Malloy family, as well as all its employees.”

She took in a deep breath, wishing she'd been given time to consider.

Sheriff Graystoke used the silence to speak his mind. “I know you'll have to do a thorough investigation of anyone charged with the safety of your daughter. But until your authorities can do that, you have my word that the Malloy family gets high marks around here for honesty and integrity. I can't think of a safer place for your daughter to stay, as long as they're willing.”

Elliott's weary voice held a note of optimism. “Nessa, maybe this Montana ranch could be a short-term solution. I'm told it's vast and sparsely populated. If you don't object, and the Malloys and Captain McBride agree, I suppose it could be your refuge, but only until the trial ends. And the way the trial is going, that could be within another week or so.”

“Or months.”

At his daughter's words he nodded. “Or months. But I believe it'll be more like weeks. Could you handle another week or two in the Montana wilderness?”

Hearing the plea in Elliott Kettering's tone, Matt lifted a hand to halt Vanessa's protest. “Since my grandmother was the one you've come to Montana to interview, it could be the perfect excuse to spend some time with her.” He winked at Gracie, who was listening as intently as the rest of the family. “If you're lucky, you might even get invited along on one of her photo treks into the hills tracking her precious herds of mustangs.”

At that, Vanessa's eyes widened.

They could all see the wheels turning in her mind.

Her father leaned closer to the camera. “What do you say, Nessa? Are you willing to stay in Montana until the trial is over?”

“I guess I have no choice. I can stay here and do what I love, or be stuck in a safe house somewhere, pacing the floor.”

Elliott gave a long, deep sigh. “Thank you, my sweet Nessa.”

“Will we be able to talk again?”

The police captain shook his head. “The less contact your father has with you, the safer you are.”

His next words were directed at the Malloy family. “I hope you understand that it's my duty to have all of you thoroughly investigated. If there are any skeletons, this would be the time to reveal them before my investigators uncover them.”

Matt spoke for all of them. “You're welcome to do your job, Captain.”

Elliott Kettering continued drinking in the image of his daughter on the phone's FaceTime, as though memorizing every feature. “I can't tell you what this means to me, Mr. Malloy.”

“It's Matt. And I'm happy to be of service, Mr. Kettering.”

“It's Elliott. I know I'm asking a great deal. This will be an intrusion on your family's privacy. But all of you will have a worried father's eternal gratitude.”

The police captain's face filled the screen. “Sheriff Graystoke, your number has been programmed into the cell phone for Miss Kettering. Vanessa, I can't stress enough just how serious this threat is. If you sense any danger, or even something that doesn't seem quite right, just turn on that phone and your location will be instantly relayed to your father and to our police headquarters. Even if you don't have time to call, we'll see this as a message from you. I'm going to disengage now. Say your good-byes quickly.”

Elliott's voice was deep with passion. “I love you, Nessa.”

Vanessa gave a long, deep sigh before saying the thing she'd said to her father since she was a teen. “I love you more, Dad.”

As the two lawmen quietly took their leave of the family, the image disappeared, and the line went dead.

While Nessa sat with her chin in her hands, trying to digest all that she'd just heard, the Malloy family moved to the far side of the room, gathering around a fireplace surrounded by comfortable sofas and chairs, talking in low tones, giving her the privacy she deserved.

Grace sat by the fire, allowing the men to carry on a muted conversation while she studied the young woman alone at the table. Vanessa Kettering was obviously distraught by the news she'd just received, and struggling to make sense of it. But to her credit, she hadn't dissolved in tears or allowed herself to be overcome by fear. Instead she was sitting as still as a statue, her only movement a finger going around and around the rim of her empty cup. Probably mimicking a quick mind mulling every little nuance of the words so recently spoken.

Grace turned to her father. “Do you remember that movie you directed with that British actress? The one who showed up late every morning, keeping an entire cast and crew waiting?”

Nelson frowned. “Hillary Burnside. Nasty diva. Though nobody alive could equal her talent.”

Grace smiled. “That's the one. Do you recall the plot?”

Nelson's eyes lit with the memory. “Of course. She had to seek shelter from a foreign agent bent on…” He stopped and shot her a look. “Her character felt completely out of place in that small New England town. But once she realized the danger was imminent, she became as clever and devious as the man who was tracking her.”

Frank laced his fingers with hers. “This isn't a movie, Gracie Girl. This is real life.”

“All too real,” she whispered. “But all the same, we need to circle the wagons around this young woman. She may be caught by complete surprise, and very much aware of the danger she's been placed in, but I sense a smart woman who would rather die than show an ounce of fear.”

She turned to Matt. “You spent some time with her in the cabin. What do you think?”

“That you have a pretty good sense of her. At least the woman I met. When she realized she was trapped in the hills, she adjusted. And though I sensed a deep-seated fear of storms, and the one that rolled over our heads was worse than most, she never gave in to the fear.”

Grace glanced around at her family. “We'll need to remain alert.”

Matt's eyes narrowed slightly, the only sign of his inner turmoil. “This is my responsibility. I was the one to suggest she stay here instead of go to a safe house.”

“And I was the one she initially came here to interview. Her safety is on all of us.” Grace sighed and stood. “And now, if you don't mind, I really need a shower and a change of clothes.”

She crossed the room and touched a hand to Vanessa's shoulder. “Come with me and I'll show you to our guest suite.”