Redemption (20 page)

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Authors: B.J. Daniels

BOOK: Redemption
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As she got up and wandered through the house, her thoughts, like vultures over roadkill, circled back to Kate LaFond.

Just this morning, Marian had put an arm around her and said, “Mom, you don’t know Kate. She’s not from around here. I’ve called Doc. He’s going to give you a little something to relax you.”

Knock her out was more like it. Loralee had shaken off her daughter’s arm. She hated it when Marian talked to her as if she was feebleminded.

“I never forget a face,” she’d snapped, knowing she should quit arguing. Marian had been talking lately about moving her into her house down by Big Timber, questioning if it was smart letting her mother live alone any longer.

“If you know her from somewhere, well, then I’m sure you’ll remember, but in the meantime Doc is stopping by.”

When she’d continued to argue that she knew what she knew, Marian had finally lost patience with her.

“Mom, you have to stop this. You made Kate uncomfortable staring at her like that. What does it matter if you know her or not from some other time and place?”

What did it matter?

Everyone thought she was getting senile. But it was more than proving that she wasn’t. The moment she’d seen Kate she’d had this strange feeling of not just recognition but almost shock. Whatever she knew about the young woman, there was some bad memory attached to it.

She wasn’t about to try to explain that to her daughter, even if she thought she could put the feeling into words and Marian would understand.

“You’re going to drive us all crazy with this,” her daughter had said as she’d left, soon after the doctor. “Let it drop, Mom.”

Easier said than done, Loralee thought as she turned and walked back down the hall to where she kept her old photo albums. Her heart pounded with anticipation. Her every instinct told her the answer was in one of the boxes.

* * *


W
ELL,
C
LAUDE?
H
OW
immediate family am I?” Kate stood waiting at the foot of his hospital bed, all the time telling herself it didn’t matter, when in truth it did.

Claude started to close his eyes again. But before Kate could turn away and leave the room as the nurse had ordered, he opened them again.

“She’s my daughter,” he said and looked over at the nurse. “She’s my daughter and I need to talk to her.”

The nurse gave Kate a disbelieving look and left in a little huff.

Kate didn’t know what to say for fear he’d only said what he had so she wouldn’t be forced to leave.

“I’m sorry I let you think you were only my niece,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse. He motioned her closer to the bed.

“Is it true?”

Claude nodded. “I know you must be disappointed—”

“Then there is an even better chance that I’m a match.”

He stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. “Forget about all that. It isn’t why I found you.”

“Yes, it was.” That day at the café when she’d first met him, he’d offered her a deal. That was when she’d told him to go to hell.

His eyes filled. “It was why I found you back then. But not now.”

“How do we find out if I’m a match?”

“I told you—”

“I’ll ask the doctor. What is it you aren’t telling me?”

He looked away.

“You don’t really have a café.”

“It’s called the Branding Iron. It’s nothing to write home about, but it has an apartment upstairs. It’s the only café within twenty miles of Beartooth, so it does all right. You won’t get rich on it, but you could be comfortable there.” He smiled sadly. “It’s all I have to offer you.”

“I don’t care about the café.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “I’m rather fond of the place, but I can understand why you wouldn’t be interested in going to an isolated, tiny town in Montana.”

“That isn’t what I meant. I’m not doing this for the café. I’m going to do the tests to find out if you’re telling the truth and I really am your daughter. These tests they run to see if my liver is compatible? They can also do a paternity test, so if you’re lying to me—”

“I’m not.”

“Why don’t you get some rest,” she said. “I’ll talk to the doctor and see how quickly we can get this done.” She turned to leave.

“Kate—”

“My name is Melissa Logan,” she said, turning back to him. It wasn’t the first time he’d made that mistake.

“Sorry. It’s what your mother called you. Her maiden name was Katherina LaFond so she named you Kate LaFond. You never went by Ackermann. As it turned out, your mother’s marriage to Cullen was never legal. He hadn’t divorced his first wife. But that’s another story.”

As she left his room, Kate didn’t know what to feel. Claude Durham had come into her life uninvited and turned it upside down.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

J
ACK FOUND HIMSELF
at Kate’s door early the next morning before she’d even had a chance to open the café.

She didn’t look surprised to see him. As she handed him a cup of coffee, he asked for the map. She produced it without a word, sipping her own coffee as she watched him study it.

He couldn’t help being skeptical about any lost treasure, especially this one. It was a wild-goose chase at best. At worst, there were men willing to kill for this worthless piece of paper.

“I can’t make any sense of this at all,” he said, turning to Kate.

She stepped closer as he spread the map on the table. As his fingers brushed over the faded drawings on the paper, her shoulder brushed his. He fought like hell to hide the electrical shock that charged through him.

“See, this is a stone building or foundation. There are trees and what could be a creek or road or maybe a trail that meanders past over here,” she said. Clearly she’d studied these crude drawings at length. She actually believed there was something to this.

And so did the men after this map, Jack reminded himself. “How much gold?”

She shook her head. “No one knows. But a lot.”

“Enough to kill for?”

Kate met his gaze.

He swore under his breath. “You’re sure wherever this spot is, it’s supposed to be on Ackermann land?”

She nodded.

Jack remembered a rumor he’d heard that Nettie had seen Kate digging in the middle of the night by the old garage next to the café. No doubt she had just been messing with nosy Nettie.

“How long have you been looking for it?”

“I wanted to start last fall, but since I didn’t know the area, I didn’t know where to look. Then winter hit, the ground froze.... I finally got enough money to order the equipment I needed.”

“I’m going to have to think about this.”

“Our partnership?” she asked, sounding worried as he headed for the door.

“No. That bargain was sealed,” he said, unable not to grin at the memory of the kiss. “Fifty-fifty. I’m going to have to think about where this could be. According to this so-called map, it could be anywhere. Ackermann owned a lot of land and, as you know, it’s posted because there could still be booby traps and land mines up there.” He stopped at the door. “In the meantime, I think I’d better keep the map.”

She started to object as he walked back over to her and picked it up from the table.

“You’ve studied it. I haven’t. Don’t worry, I won’t lose it.” He could tell she didn’t want it out of her sight, but she nodded. He had his reasons. If those men came back, they’d have to keep her alive until they dealt with him.

Outside a pickup pulled up. “You’d better get the front door of the café opened. Looks like you have a customer already.”

As he left, trotting down the outside stairs, he saw who the early-morning customer was. Hitch McCray.

Unfortunately, Hitch saw him.

“Nice night?” Hitch asked sarcastically as Jack walked between the two buildings to step out into the sunlight at the front of the café.

Don’t do it.
But he’d never been good at listening, even to his own advice. He walked up to Hitch and slugged him in the mouth.

* * *

S
TILL UNNERVED BY
Jack’s early-morning visit, Kate couldn’t help wondering what she’d gotten herself into. But she’d found that life always came down to choices. She’d gotten into bed, so to speak, with Jack French. She was going to have to make the best of it.

She’d just gone downstairs to the café, opened the front door and put her apron on when Hitch McCray came in. He was her least favorite of the regulars. He was always hitting on her waitress, even though Bethany was married. Kate had seen him eyeing her, as well. He made her skin crawl.

“You’re bleeding,” she said in surprise, and grabbed a couple of napkins off a table so he could dab at his swelling lip. “What hap—” She stopped herself as she glanced out the front window and saw Jack heading up the road to his cabin. He was rubbing the knuckles of his right hand.

Kate had to hide a smile.

“That son of a bee. I’m going to sue your boyfriend,” Hitch said. “But then again, what would be the point? He doesn’t have anything. Just that run-down piece of ground no one wants—not even him. Jack’s no good.”

She started to come to Jack’s defense, a mistake in so many ways.

“I guess you don’t know he’s two-timing you with his old girlfriend Chantell Hyett.” Kate knew her expression betrayed her when Hitch laughed. “He didn’t mention that, huh?”

“Jack and I aren’t—”

“Right,” Hitch said and took the menu out of her hand. “Just like he wasn’t sneaking out of your apartment this morning.” He leered at her. “I wasn’t born yester—” The bell over the front door tinkled, cutting off the rest of his words.

Kate
wanted to hit Hitch. She suspected a lot of people did, as the other regulars came in and sat down at the big table. A couple of them looked questioningly at Hitch, then at Kate, as if they thought she’d hit him. She smiled. Let them think what they wanted.

As she turned, she saw a skinny blond girl come in and realized she must be Tiffany, the girl who she’d heard was renting the apartment over the general store. The rumor going around town was that the girl was somehow related to the sheriff.

Tiffany slipped into the back booth. She glanced at the group of ranchers, who were now in a heated discussion of organic farming, then at Kate, and looked nervously down at her hands in her lap.

“Good morning,” Kate said as she approached her table and set down a menu. “What can I get you?”

“Just some orange juice, a small glass, and maybe toast.”

“You got it.” She left the menu so the girl would have something to look at while she waited. She’d never seen such a nervous little thing. She wondered what nosy Nettie thought of her. Or if it was Nettie who was making her so nervous.

“Can I ask you a question?” the girl said when Kate brought her toast and orange juice.

“Sure.”

“Do you know a woman named Lynette Johnson?”

* * *

N
ETTIE
B
ENTON HADN’T
seen Frank since showing him her renter’s artwork. She hadn’t talked to him since he’d called to drop the bombshell. Tiffany was his daughter. She’d hurried to the file where she kept the paperwork on her renter and checked the last name. Chandler.

Why hadn’t she recognized the name? Because she hadn’t been paying any attention and because it had been years since she’d even given Pamela Chandler a thought. Eighteen years, about, she thought.

She was worried about Frank on a lot of levels. Having a daughter he didn’t know existed show up had been a shock. She’d heard his frustration and confusion when he’d called. He was probably still trying to make sense of everything. Such as, for instance, why Pam had kept this from him all these years.

If Tiffany really was his child.

It was no secret that Frank had wanted kids. She remembered him talking about filling up his house with the patter of little feet one day. Over the years, she’d often thought about how different her life would have been if she’d married Frank and filled his house with children.

Instead, she was childless. Bob, it had turned out, was infertile and she hadn’t wanted to have his children anyway. Frank had a daughter, but a scary one. Nettie still shuddered when she thought of the sketches Tiffany had done of him. She’d sensed an edge to the girl that she now suspected was suppressed anger.

Her fear for Frank finally made her pick up the phone and call him.

“Lynette.” He sounded as if he was glad to hear her voice.

“I was worried about you.”

“There’s nothing to worry about.”

Nettie could have argued that. “How are things with your daughter?”

“We’re doing the best we can, given that I didn’t know she existed and her mother told her I didn’t want her.”

The bitterness in his voice surprised her because she’d never heard it before. If the same thing had happened to her, she would have been furious and a whole lot more than bitter. She would have been plotting revenge.

But Frank wasn’t like her.

“So, have you talked to Pam?” She remembered when he’d married Pamela Chandler. She’d been heartbroken that he’d married such a sniveling, weak woman and hadn’t been surprised when the marriage hadn’t lasted.

“I can’t find her.”

“But you’re the sheriff. Surely you have resources—”

“Being sheriff doesn’t allow me to use those resources for my own personal ends, and apparently Pam doesn’t want to be found.”

“I’ll just bet she doesn’t, after what she’s done.”

“Is Tiffany still in her apartment?” he asked.

“No, she left early this morning with her sketch pad.” Nettie had to bite her tongue not to add, “She’s probably stalking you as we speak.”

“Okay,” he said with a sigh. “Oh, there’s my other line. I’m glad you called. Thanks for thinking of me.”

“I always think of you,” she said, but only after she was sure he’d hung up.

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