Cardwell Christmas Crime Scene
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Now she surveyed the small crowd of people waiting on the level below as she rode the escalator down. She knew she was being watched, could feel an intense stare. But when she looked in the direction it came from, she was surprised to see a cowboy.
He stood leaning against the stone wall next to the baggage claim area. He was dressed in jeans, boots and a red-and-black-plaid wool jacket. His dark Stetson was pulled low, his blond hair curling at the neck of his jacket.
As he tilted his head back, she saw the pale blue familiar eyes and felt a shock before he quickly looked away. There had been a moment of...recognition. Or had she just imagined that she knew him? She tried to get a better look at him. Why had she thought she recognized him?
She had no idea.
He was no longer paying any attention to her. She studied his profile. It was strong, very masculine. He held himself in a way that told her he was his own man. He was no urban cowboy. He was the real thing.
She scoffed at the idea that she knew him. She would have remembered a man like that. Still, she couldn’t take her eyes off him and was startled when she reached the end of the escalator.
Turning toward the exit, she spotted a woman about her own age holding a sign that said CARDWELL RANCH on it, and in smaller letters, DJ.
The moment her cousin saw her, she beamed with a huge smile. DJ was surprised how that smile affected her. Tears burned her eyes as she was suddenly filled with emotion. She had the crazy feeling that she’d finally come home. Which was ridiculous, since she’d never had a real home life and, as far as she knew, had never been to Montana.
She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat as she wound her way through the small crowd to the young woman. “Dana?”
“DJ?”
At her nod, Dana gave her a quick hug. “Welcome to Montana.” She stepped back to stare at DJ. “You don’t look anything like the last Dee Anna Justice.”
DJ heard relief in her cousin’s voice.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” Dana said, then must have noticed that DJ didn’t know what she was talking about. “Your father did tell you about your former roommate pretending to be you.”
“No, I guess he failed to mention that.”
“Well, it’s water under the bridge... I’m just glad you’re here and I finally get to meet you.”
“Me, too,” DJ said, feeling that well of emotion again.
“We’ll get your luggage—”
“This is all I have.” Traveling light wasn’t the only habit she’d picked up from her father. She had stopped by the bank before she’d left San Diego. She took cash from her safe-deposit box, just in case she might have reason not to use her credit card. But that would mean that she was on the run and needed to hide.
Dana glanced at the overnight bag. “That’s it? Not to worry. We have anything you might need. Ready to see the ranch?”
She was. “I’m looking forward to it.” Again she felt someone watching her and quickly scanned the area. It was an old habit from the years when her father used her as a decoy or a lookout.
“Always watch for anyone who seems a little too interested in you—or the ones who are trying hard not to pay you any mind,” he used to say.
She spotted the cowboy. He had moved from his spot against the wall and now stood as if waiting for his baggage to arrive. Except he hadn’t been on the flight.
“Do you need anything else before we head out?” Dana asked, drawing her attention again.
“No, I’m good,” DJ said and followed Dana toward the exit. She didn’t have to look back to know that the cowboy was watching her. But he wasn’t the only one.
* * *
BEAU WATCHED DJ LEAVE, curious if anyone else was watching her. Through the large window, he could see Dana’s SUV parked outside. DJ was standing next to it, the two seeming to hit it off.
No one seemed to pay her any attention that he could tell. A few people were by the window, several taking photographs. In the distance, the mountains that surrounded the valley were snowcapped against a robin’s-egg-blue sky.
He watched DJ climb into the SUV. As it pulled away, there was the clank of the baggage carousel. The people who’d been standing at the window all turned, pocketing their phones. One man took a moment to send a text before moving to the baggage claim area. Everyone looked suspicious, and no one did.
Beau realized he was flying blind. He had to know why Walter Justice had hired him. He had to know what kind of trouble DJ was in.
Pulling out his phone, he stepped outside into the cold December afternoon. The air smelled of snow. Even with the winter sun shining against the stone wall of the airport, it was still chilly outside.
Beau was glad when the emergency number he’d called was answered. It took a few minutes for Walter to come on the line. He wondered what kind of deal the inmate had made that allowed him such service. Con men always found a way, he thought, remembering his own father.
“Have you seen her?” Walter asked at once.
“I have. But you might recall, I’ve seen her before.”
“She was just a child then.”
“She’s not now,” he said, thinking of the striking woman who’d come down those stairs. “That’s just one reason I need to tell her the truth.”
“No. That would be a mistake. You don’t know her—she doesn’t trust anyone.”
“Whose fault is that?” Beau asked. “If you want me to get close to her, you have to let me do it my way. Tell me what kind of danger she’s in.”
“That’s just it. I don’t know.”
Beau swore under his breath. “You expect me to believe that? I have to know what I’m up against.” Walter knew enough that he’d “hired” Beau.
Silence filled the line for so long, he feared the inmate had hung up. “It could have something to do with her mother.”
“DJ’s mother?”
“Sorry, not DJ’s mother. Carlotta is dead. Her grandmother Marietta is still alive. Marietta might have found DJ.”
“Found her?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I’m sure it is. But if you expect me to keep your daughter safe, you’d better tell me.”
There was a sound of clanging doors. Then Walter said, “I have to go. Call me tomorrow.” And the man was gone.
Pocketing his phone with a curse, Beau headed for his pickup. He couldn’t wait until tomorrow. He would have to do this his way—no matter what Walter Justice had said. He thought of the woman he’d seen. Years ago he’d yearned to save that brown-eyed girl. He was getting a second chance, but he feared he wasn’t going to have any more luck than he’d had at ten.
What the hell had he gotten involved in?
* * *
DANA CARDWELL SAVAGE was a pleasant surprise. DJ saw at once the family resemblance in this cheerful young woman with the dark hair and eyes. She was so sweet that DJ felt herself relax a little.
“We are so happy to have you here,” her cousin was saying. “Your father said that he’s been wanting to get us together for years, but with your busy schedule...” Dana glanced over at her and smiled. “I’m glad you finally got the chance. This is the perfect time of year to visit Cardwell Ranch. We had a snow last night. Everything is pretty right now. Do you ski?”
DJ shook her head.
“That’s all right. If you want to take a lesson, we can certainly make that happen. But you ride, your father said.”
“Ride?”
“Horses. It might be too cold for you, but it’s always an option.”
The SUV slipped through an opening between the mountains, and DJ was suddenly in a wonderland of white. Massive pine branches bowed under the weight of the fresh white snow. Next to the highway, the river was a ribbon of frozen green.
DJ had never seen anything like it. Or had she? At the back of her mind, she thought she remembered snow. The cold, soft flakes melting in her child-sized hand. That sense of wonder.
Dana was telling her about the Gallatin Canyon and some of its history. “I’m sorry,” she said after a few minutes. “I talk too much when I’m excited.”
“No,” DJ said quickly. “I’m interested.”
Dana smiled at her. “You are so different from the last Dee Anna Justice who visited us. Sorry. You said you hadn’t heard about it.”
“What happened?”
DJ listened and shuddered to think that she’d lived in the same apartment with someone like that. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t really know her. We shared an apartment, but since my job is traveling, I was hardly there.”
Her cousin waved that off. “Not your fault. That’s why we’re excited finally to meet the real you.”
The real you? DJ almost laughed. She hadn’t gone by her real name in years. She wasn’t sure she even knew the real her.
Chapter Five
Jimmy Ryan could hardly hold still, he was so excited. He couldn’t believe his luck as he saw the man come into the bar.
“You bring the up-front money?” he asked the moment the man took the stool next to him at the bar. The dive was almost completely empty this time of day. Still, he kept his voice down. This was serious business.
When the man had told him he was looking for someone with Jimmy’s...talents, he’d never dreamed how perfect he was for the job.
“Montana? Hell, I used to live up there, you know, near Big Sky,” Jimmy had bragged. He hadn’t been there since he’d flunked out of high school after knocking up his girlfriend and being forced into a shotgun marriage, but that was beside the point.
“I remember you mentioning that. That’s why I thought of you. So maybe you know the area?” the man had said.
“Like the back of my hand. I might even know the target.”
“Ever heard of the Cardwell Ranch?”
Jimmy had felt a chill as if someone had walked over his grave. This was too good to be true. “Are you kidding? I used to...date Stacy Cardwell.”
“Well, maybe you won’t want this one.”
As desperate as he was for money, he would have killed anyone they asked, even Stacy herself, though not before he’d spent some quality time with her for old times’ sake.
He’d thought it was fate when the man told him the hit was on a woman named DJ Justice, a cousin of the Cardwells. “Don’t know her. Don’t care even if I did. Just get me some...traveling money and then let me know how you want it handled.”
The man had said he’d get back to him, but it had to be done soon. Jimmy had started making plans with what he would do with all that money.
Now, though, he felt his heart drop as he saw the man’s expression. “I’m sorry. The client has decided to go with someone else.”
“Someone else?” Jimmy cried loud enough that the bartender sent him a look. “Come on,” he said, dropping his voice. “I thought I had it? I’m perfect for the job. Shouldn’t it be a case of who gets her first? If it’s the money—”
“They went with a pro, all right?”
“Excuse me?” Jimmy demanded, mad at the thought of losing the money and taking it as an insult. “I grew up in Montana. Do you have any idea how many deer I killed? You ever kill a deer?”
“A deer is a lot different than killing a woman.” The man threw down some bills on the bar. “For your time.” He slid off his stool and started to step away.
“You think that bothers me?” Jimmy had known some women he would have loved to have put a bullet in. He wouldn’t even have flinched.
As the man started through the empty bar toward the back door, Jimmy went after him, trotting along beside him, determined not to let him leave without getting the job.
“I’ll do it for less than your...pro.”
“I don’t think money is the issue,” the man said without looking at him. “She just wants it done fast.”
She? He was thinking jealousy, revenge, a catfight over some man. “So what did this DJ Justice do? Steal some broad’s old man?”
The man stopped at the door. Jimmy could tell that he was regretting giving him the details. “Look, forget this one, and maybe the next time I have something...” The man pushed open the door.
“You want to see a pro? I’ll show you a pro. I got this one,” he called after him. “I’ll find her first and I’ll be back for the rest of the money.”
* * *
STACY CARDWELL WIPED her eyes as the movie ended. She couldn’t help blubbering, not at the end of a touching love story. Maybe she was a sucker for a happy ending. Not that she expected one for herself. She’d picked the wrong man too many times.
But she was just happy to have her daughter, Ella, who was almost five years old. Ella had the biggest green eyes she’d ever seen and had stolen her heart even before she was born. Sure, Stacy got lonely sometimes, but she had her sister, Dana, and brothers, Jordan and Clay. Jordan just lived up the road. Clay was still in California but visited a couple times a year.
Years ago they’d had a falling-out over the ranch. Stacy still regretted it. But Dana had forgiven her, and now they were closer than ever.
“Hello?”
She quickly turned off the television as Burt Olsen, the local mailman, stuck his head in the front door of the main ranch house, where Stacy was curled up watching movies.
“Got a package for Dana,” he said. “Need a signature.”
Stacy waved him on into the house, smiling as he stomped snow off his boots on the porch before entering. Burt was always so polite. Dana was convinced that Burt had a crush on Stacy, but he was just too shy to ask her out. She was glad Dana wasn’t here to tease her about him.
“How’s your day going?” Burt asked, then quickly lowered his voice. “The kids asleep?”
She laughed and shook her head. “That would be some trick, to get them all to take naps at their ages. No, their grandpa took them sledding. I’m just holding down the fort until my sister gets back.”
“Saw your car out front,” Burt said. “Figured you might be sitting the kids. What’d ya think of that snow last night? Really came down. I’ve already been stuck a couple of times today. Glad I have chains on my rig.”
She nodded as she signed for the package. “Can I fill up your thermos with coffee? I have a pot going.”
“That would be right nice of you,” Burt said, blushing a little. He was a big man with a round red face and brown eyes that disappeared in his face when he laughed. He wasn’t handsome by anyone’s standards, but there was a warmth and a sincerity about him.
“He will make some woman a fine husband,” Dana had said more than once. “A smart woman would snatch him up.”
Stacy had never been smart when it came to men, and her sister knew it. But she liked Burt. If she had been looking for a husband... But she wasn’t.
When he returned from his truck with the thermos, she took it into the big farmhouse kitchen and proceeded to fill it with hot strong coffee. Burt had followed her only as far as the kitchen doorway.
“Having electrical problems?” Burt asked.
She turned to frown. “No, why?”
“I saw some feller up a pole not far from the house.”
Stacy shrugged. “Here, I made sugar cookies. I’ll put a couple of them in a bag for you.”
“Oh, you don’t have to...”
“Dana would insist if she was here,” Stacy said.
“Well, thank you.” He took the thermos and the plastic bag. “Shaped like Christmas trees,” he said, holding up the bag to see the cookies. “You did a real nice job on them.”
She felt her cheeks heat. Burt was so appreciative of even the smallest kind gesture a person did for him. “Thank you.”
“Well, I’ll be getting along, then.” He nodded, not quite looking at her. “Might want to dig out some candles in case that lineman turns off your power. You have a nice day now.”
“I’m going to try.” She watched him drive away, wondering when Burt was going to get around to asking her out and how she was going to let him down easy.
In the kitchen, she got herself some cookies and milk. Going back to the television, she found another Christmas love story and hoped Burt was wrong about the power man cutting off her television. She didn’t get that much time alone to watch.
But this show didn’t hold her attention. She wondered when Dana would be back with their cousin Dee Anna Justice and what surprises this cousin might bring to the ranch.
* * *
AS BEAU CLIMBED into his SUV and began the drive out of the airport on the newly constructed roads, his cell phone rang. The roads were new because Gallatin Field was now the busiest airport in the state. “Beau Tanner.”
“What is your hourly rate?”
He recognized Leah’s voice and imagined her standing in his living room. “You can’t afford me. Seriously, what is this about?”
“I lied to you. Charlie and I...we’re in trouble.”
Beau wasn’t surprised. “So, there isn’t an important package?”
“There is, kind of. I hate involving you in this.”
“I can’t wait to hear what this is exactly, but can we talk about it when I get home?”
“Yes. But I insist on hiring you. I have money, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“That isn’t it. I have something right now that is going to take all of my attention.”
He got off the call, cursing under his breath. If this was about marital problems between her and Charlie...
He really couldn’t deal with this right now. Ahead he could see Dana Cardwell’s black Suburban heading toward Big Sky. Beau followed, worried about Leah and Charlie, even more worried about DJ Justice.
What kind of trouble was DJ in? Her father thought it might have something to do with her grandmother? That her grandmother had found her? He cursed Walter. Who knew how many skeletons the man had in his closet?
But what did that have to do with his daughter?
If Beau had to lay money down on it, he would have bet there was a man in DJ Justice’s story. A man with a jealous wife or girlfriend? Or had DJ chosen a life of crime like her father? At least Beau’s father had reformed somewhat after that night here in the canyon when Beau had made the deal with Walter Justice.
Since becoming a private investigator, he’d thought he’d heard every story there was. Where it got dangerous was when the spouse or lover would do anything to cover up an affair—or even a score. Usually money was involved. And passion.
So what was DJ’s story?
* * *
MARIETTA PISANI STOOD at her mirror, considering the almost eighty-year-old woman she saw reflected there. Merda! She looked as cranky as she felt, which almost made her smile. When had she gotten so old? She didn’t feel all that different than she had in her twenties, except now her long, beautiful, raven-black hair was gray. Her once-smooth porcelain skin was wrinkled.
She knew what had aged her more than the years—her only child, Carlotta. That girl had seemed determined to drive her crazy. It had been one thing after another from an early age. She shook her head, remembering the hell Carlotta had put her through, and then softened her thoughts as she was reminded that her beautiful, foolish daughter was in her grave.
Not that she hadn’t left a storm in her wake. And now Marietta had to clean it up.
“Can I get you anything else, Mrs. Pisani?” asked a deep, elderly voice behind her.
She glanced past her reflection in the mirror to Ester, who’d been with her for almost fifty years. Ester had grayed since she’d begun working here as a teen. Sometimes Marietta mixed her up with her mother, Inez, who’d been her first housekeeper right after her marriage.
“No, Ester, I don’t need anything.”
“What about you, Mr. Douglas?” Ester asked Marietta’s solicitor.
Roger shook his head. “I’ll be leaving shortly.”
“You can turn in,” Marietta told the housekeeper.
“Just ring.” The sixty-seven-year-old woman turned to leave. “Sleep well.” She’d said the same thing every night for the past fifty years.
As Ester closed the door behind her, Marietta focused again on her own reflection. Nothing had changed except now her brows were knit into a deep frown. Ester hadn’t been herself lately.
The thought caused Marietta a moment of alarm. Was the woman sick? Marietta was too old to train another housekeeper. Not that Ester kept house anymore. A housecleaning crew came in once a week, and she employed a full-time cook, as well. Ester’s only job now was to see to her mistress.
Of course, Ester didn’t see it that way. She resented the housekeeping crew and the cook and often sent the cook home early so she could take over the kitchen. She would then make Marietta’s favorite meals, just as her mother had done.
The thought that Ester might leave her for any reason was more than she could stand. Ester was the only person in the world Marietta trusted—other than her granddaughter Bianca. She tried to put her worries aside, assuring herself that she’d be dead before Ester went anywhere.
Still, it nagged at her. Not that Ester had said anything. It was more of a...feeling that something was wrong. Unfortunately she knew nothing about the woman’s personal life—or if she even had one. Ester had married some worthless man years ago, but she’d had the good sense to get rid of him early on. Since then, as far as Marietta knew, there was no one else in her life. Ester had doted on her and Carlotta and thought that the sun rose and set with Bianca.
When Carlotta had died a few months ago, Ester had taken it harder than Marietta. The housekeeper had loved that child as if she were her own. She’d helped raise her and was the first to make excuses when Carlotta got into trouble, which was often.
But the one Ester loved even more than life itself was Bianca.
It was her thirty-four-year-old granddaughter Marietta worried about now because of Carlotta’s deathbed confession.
She clenched her gnarled hands into fists at the memory. The stupid, stupid girl. The secret she’d kept from them all could destroy the legacy Marietta had preserved for so many years—not to mention what it could do to the family fortune.
That was why the mess her daughter had left behind had to be cleaned up. For the family’s sake. For Bianca’s sake and the generations to come.
“I should go,” Roger said.
She’d forgotten he was even still in the room. A slight man with an unmemorable face, he practically disappeared into the wallpaper. “You’re sure you can handle this properly?” she asked as she looked past her own image to his.
He sighed. “Yes.”
“I don’t want Bianca ever to know. If that means paying this woman to keep quiet—”
“I told you I would take care of it. But it is going to cost you. Your daughter left us little choice unless you want to see your family’s reputation destroyed by a complete stranger.”
A complete stranger. That was what Dee Anna Justice was to her. Marietta had never laid eyes on this...granddaughter, hadn’t even known she existed until her daughter’s deathbed confession. “Just see that it’s done and spare me the sordid details.”
“Don’t I always?” As he started to leave, she heard a rustling sound and looked up in time to see Ester skittering away.
* * *
DANA WAS TELLING her about the “canyon,” as the locals called the Gallatin Canyon. It ran from just south of Gallatin Gateway almost to West Yellowstone, some fifty miles of twisting road that cut through the mountains. Sheer rock cliffs overlooked the highway and the Gallatin River.
The drive was breathtaking, especially for DJ, who’d never been in the mountains before—let alone in winter. The winding highway followed the river, a blue-ribbon trout stream, up over the Continental Divide.
“There used to be just a few places in the canyon, mostly ranches or dude ranches, a few summer cabins, but that was before Big Sky,” Dana was saying.
DJ could see that luxury houses had sprouted up along the highway as they got closer to the ski resort and community that had grown around it.
“Our ranch was one of the first,” her cousin said with obvious pride. “It is home. The only one I’ve known. And I have no intention of ever leaving it.”
DJ couldn’t imagine what it must have been like living her whole life in one place.