The Montana Hamiltons by New York Times bestselling author B.J. Daniels

He’s meant to protect her, but what is this cowboy keeping from her about the danger she’s facing?

As the daughter of a presidential candidate, Cassidy Hamilton left the Montana family ranch to escape notoriety and live her own life. But when someone tries to abduct her off a Houston sidewalk, Cassidy finds protection in the tall, dark and sexy form of cowboy Jack Durand. The gorgeous Texan doesn’t recognize her, wants nothing from her and is determined to keep her safe.

Jack hates keeping secrets from the beautiful Cassidy, but he knows more about her kidnapping attempt than he’s admitting. Forced on the run, Jack and Cassidy begin piecing together a jagged family puzzle, exposing a plot years in the making—one that will either tear them apart or bring them closer together than ever.

Praise for New York Times bestselling author B.J. Daniels and The Montana Hamiltons

“The first book of Daniels’ new Montana Hamiltons series will draw readers in with its genuine characters, multiple storylines and intense conflict set against the beautiful Montana landscape.”

—RT Book Reviews on Wild Horses

“Wild Horses is filled with action, intrigue, mystery and romance; in other words a classic B.J. Daniels book.”

—Fresh Fiction on Wild Horses

“Forget slow-simmering romance...the second Montana Hamiltons is always at a rolling boil.”

—Publishers Weekly on Lone Rider

“Lucky Shot is third in a solid mystery series with rugged cowboys and strong women who are smart characters. Fans of the show Longmire will find a new book to absoutely adore.”

—RT Book Reviews on Lucky Shot

“Sure to have fans anxious for the next title in the series.”

—Library Journal on Lucky Shot

Into Dust
B.J. Daniels

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to Kimberly Rocha and Janet Rodman. These two women are the life of any party. They have brightened many of my days and have always been supportive and appreciative of authors and what goes into writing a book. Cheers, ladies, the next drink is on me!

Contents

COVER

BACK COVER TEXT

Praise

TITLE PAGE

DEDICATION

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

EPILOGUE

EXTRACT

COPYRIGHT

CHAPTER ONE

THE CEMETERY SEEMED unusually quiet. Jack Durand paused on the narrow walkway to glance toward the Houston skyline. He never came to Houston without stopping by his mother’s grave. He liked to think of his mother here in this beautiful, peaceful place. And he always brought flowers. Today he’d brought her favorite, daisies.

He breathed in the sweet scent of freshly mown lawn as he moved through shafts of sunlight fingering their way down through the huge oak trees. Long shadows fell across the path, offering a breath of cooler air. Fortunately, the summer day wasn’t hot and the walk felt good after the long drive in from the ranch.

The silent gravestones and statues gleamed in the sun. His favorites were the angels. He liked the idea of all the angels here watching over his mother, he thought, as he passed the small lake ringed with trees and followed the wide bend of Brays Bayou situated along one side of the property. A flock of ducks took flight, flapping wildly and sending water droplets into the air.

He’d taken the long way because he needed to relax. He knew it was silly, but he didn’t want to visit his mother upset. He’d promised her on her deathbed that he would try harder to get along with his father.

Ahead, he saw movement near his mother’s grave and slowed. A man wearing a dark suit stood next to the angel statue that watched over her final resting place. The man wasn’t looking at the grave or the angel. Instead, he appeared to simply be waiting impatiently. As he turned...

With a start, Jack recognized his father.

He thought he had to be mistaken at first. Tom Durand had made a point of telling him he would be in Los Angeles the next few days. Had his father’s plans changed? Surely, he would have no reason to lie about it.

Until recently, that his father might have lied would never have occurred to him. But things had been strained between them since Jack had told him he wouldn’t be taking over the family business.

It wasn’t just seeing his father here when he should have been in Los Angeles. It was seeing him in this cemetery. He knew for a fact that his father hadn’t been here since the funeral.

“I don’t like cemeteries,” he’d told his son when Jack had asked why he didn’t visit his dead wife. “Anyway, what is the point? She’s gone.”

Jack felt close to his mother near her grave. “It’s a sign of respect.”

His father had shaken his head, clearly displeased with the conversation. “We all mourn in our own ways. I like to remember your mother my own way, so lay off, okay?”

So why the change of heart? Not that Jack wasn’t glad to see it. He knew that his parents had loved each other. Kate Durand had been sweet and loving, the perfect match for Tom, who was a distant workaholic.

Jack was debating joining him or leaving him to have this time alone with his wife, when he saw another man approaching his father. He quickly stepped behind a monument. Jack was far enough away that he didn’t recognize the man right away. But while he couldn’t see the man’s face clearly from this distance, he recognized the man’s limp.

Jack had seen him coming out of the family import/export business office one night after hours. He’d asked his father about him and been told Ed Urdahl worked on the docks.

Now he frowned as he considered why either of the men was here. His father hadn’t looked at his wife’s grave even once. Instead he seemed to be in the middle of an intense conversation with Ed. The conversation ended abruptly when his father reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a thick envelope and handed it to the man.

He watched in astonishment as Ed pulled a wad of money from the envelope and proceeded to count it. Even from where he stood, Jack could tell that the gesture irritated his father. Tom Durand expected everyone to take what he said or did as the gospel.

Ed finished counting the money, put it back in the envelope and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. His father seemed to be giving Ed orders. Then looking around as if worried they might have been seen, Tom Durand turned and walked away toward an exit on the other side of the cemetery—the one farthest from the reception building. He didn’t even give a backward glance to his wife’s grave. Nor had he left any flowers for her. Clearly, his reason for being here had nothing to do with Kate Durand.

Jack was too stunned to move for a moment. What had that exchange been about? Nothing legal, he thought. A hard knot formed in his stomach. What was his father involved in?

He noticed that Ed was heading in an entirely different direction. Impulsively, he began to follow him, worrying about what his father had paid the man to do.

Ed headed for a dark green car parked in the lot near where Jack himself had parked earlier. Jack dropped the daisies, exited the cemetery yards behind him and headed to his ranch pickup. Once behind the wheel, he followed as Ed left the cemetery.

Staying a few cars back, he tailed the man, all the time trying to convince himself that there was a rational explanation for the strange meeting in the cemetery or his father giving this man so much money. But it just didn’t wash. His father hadn’t been there to visit his dead wife. So what was Tom Durand up to?

Jack realized that Ed was headed for an older part of Houston that had been gentrified in recent years. A row of brownstones ran along a street shaded in trees. Small cafes and quaint shops were interspersed with the brownstones. Because it was late afternoon, the street wasn’t busy.

Ed pulled over, parked and cut his engine. Jack turned into a space a few cars back, noticing that Ed still hadn’t gotten out.

Had he spotted the tail? Jack waited, half expecting Ed to emerge and come stalking toward his truck. And what? Beat him up? Call his father?

So far all Ed had done from what Jack could tell was sit watching a brownstone across the street.

Jack continued to observe the green car, wondering how long he was going to sit here waiting for something to happen. This was crazy. He had no idea what had transpired at the cemetery. While the transaction had looked suspicious, maybe his father had really been visiting his mother’s grave and told Ed to meet him there so he could pay him money he owed him. But for what that required such a large amount of cash? And why in the cemetery?

Even as Jack thought it, he still didn’t believe what he’d seen was innocent. He couldn’t shake the feeling that his father had hired the man for some kind of job that involved whoever lived in that brownstone across the street.

He glanced at the time. Earlier, when he’d decided to stop by the cemetery, he knew he’d be cutting it close to meet his appointment back at the ranch. He prided himself on his punctuality. But if he kept sitting here, he would miss his meeting.

Jack reached for his cell phone. The least he could do was call and reschedule. But before he could key in the number, the door of the brownstone opened and a young woman with long blond hair came out.

As she started down the street in the opposite direction, Ed got out of his car. Jack watched him make a quick call on his cell phone as he began to follow the woman.

CHAPTER TWO

THE BLONDE HAD the look of a rich girl from her long coifed hair to her stylish short skirt and crisp white top to the pale blue sweater lazily draped over one arm. Hypnotized by the sexy swish of her skirt, Jack couldn’t miss the glint of silver jewelry at her slim wrist or the name-brand bag she carried.

Jack grabbed the gun he kept in his glove box and climbed out of his truck. The blonde took a quick call on her cell phone as she walked. She quickened her steps, pocketing her phone. Was she meeting someone and running late. A date?

As she turned down another narrow street, he saw Ed on the opposite side of the street on his phone again. Telling someone...what?

He felt his anxiety rise as Ed ended his call and put away his phone as he crossed the street. Jack took off after the two. He tucked the gun into the waist of his jeans. He had no idea what was going on, but all his instincts told him the blonde, whoever she was, was in danger.

As he reached the corner, he saw that Ed was now only yards behind the woman, his limp even more pronounced. The narrow alley-like street was empty of people and businesses. The neighborhood rejuvenation hadn’t reached this street yet. There was dirt and debris along the front of the vacant buildings. So where was the woman going?

Jack could hear the blonde’s heels making a tap, tap, tap sound as she hurried along. Ed’s work boots made no sound as he gained on the woman.

As Ed increased his steps, he pulled out what looked like a white cloth from a plastic bag in his pocket. Discarding the bag, he suddenly rushed down the deserted street toward the woman.

Jack raced after him. Ed had reached the woman, looping one big strong arm around her from behind and lifting her off her feet. Her blue sweater fell to the ground along with her purse as she struggled.

Ed was fighting to get the cloth over her mouth and nose. The blonde was frantically moving her head back and forth and kicking her legs and arms wildly. Some of her kicks were connecting. Ed let out several cries of pain as well as a litany of curses as she managed to knock the cloth from his hand.

After setting her feet on the ground, Ed grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her head back. Cocking his other fist, he reared back as if to slug her.

Running up, Jack pulled the gun, and hit the man with the stock of his handgun.

Ed released his hold on the woman’s hair, stumbled and fell to his knees as she staggered back from him, clearly shaken. Her gaze met his as Jack heard a vehicle roaring toward them from another street. Unless he missed his guess, it was cohorts of Ed’s.

As a van came careening around the corner, Jack cried “Come on!” to the blonde. She stood a few feet away looking too stunned and confused to move. He quickly stepped to her, grabbed her hand and, giving her only enough time to pick up her purse from the ground, pulled her down the narrow alley.

Behind them, the van came to a screeching stop. Jack looked back to see two men in the front of the vehicle. One jumped out to help Ed, who was holding the blonde’s sweater to his bleeding head.

Jack tugged on her arm and she began to run with him again. They rounded a corner, then another one. He thought he heard the sound of the van’s engine a block over and wanted to keep running, but he could tell she wasn’t up to it. He dragged her into an inset open doorway to let her catch her breath.

They were both breathing hard. He could see that she was still scared, but the shock seemed to be wearing off. She eyed him as if having second thoughts about letting a complete stranger lead her down this dark alley.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “I’m trying to protect you from those men who tried to abduct you.”

She nodded, but didn’t look entirely convinced. “Who are you?”

“Jack. My name is Jack Durand. I saw that man following you,” he said. “I didn’t think, I just ran up behind him and hit him.” It was close enough to the truth. “Who are you?”

“Cassidy Hamilton.” No Texas accent. Nor did the name ring any bells. So what had they wanted with this young woman?

“Any idea who those guys were or why they were after you?”

She looked away, swallowed, then shook her head. “Do you think they’re gone?”

“I don’t think so.” After he’d seen that wad of money his father had given Ed, he didn’t think the men would be giving up. “I suspect they are now looking for both of us.” When he’d looked back earlier, he’d thought Ed or one of the other men had seen him. He’d spent enough time at his father’s warehouse that most of the dock workers knew who he was.

But why would his father want this woman abducted? It made no sense, and yet it was the only logical conclusion he could draw given what he’d witnessed at the cemetery.

“Let’s wait a little bit. Do you live around here?”

“I was staying with a friend.”

“I don’t think you should go back there. That man has been following you for several blocks.”

She nodded and hugged herself, looking scared. He figured a lot of what had almost happened hadn’t yet registered. Either that or what had almost happened didn’t come as a complete surprise to her. Which made him even more curious why his father would want to abduct this woman.

* * *

ED URDAHL COULDN’T believe his luck. He’d picked a street that he knew wouldn’t have anyone on it this time of the day. On top of that, the girl had been in her own little world. She hadn’t been paying any attention to him as he’d moved up directly behind her.

The plan had been simple. Grab her, toss her into the van that would come speeding up at the perfect time and make a clean, quick getaway so no one would be the wiser.

It should have gone down without any trouble.

He’d been so intent on the woman in front of him, though, that he hadn’t heard the man come up behind him until it was too late. Even if someone had intervened, Ed had been pretty sure he could handle it. He’d been a wrestler and boxer growing up. Few men were stupid enough to take him on.

The last thing he’d expected was to be smacked in the back of the head by some do-gooder. What had he been hit with anyway? Something hard and cold. A gun? The blow had knocked him senseless and the next thing he’d known he was on the sidewalk bleeding. As he’d heard the van engine roaring in his direction, he’d fought to keep from blacking out as whoever had blindsided him had gotten away with the blonde.

“What happened?” his brother, Alec, demanded now. He leaned against the van wall in the back, his head hurting like hell. “I thought you had it all worked out.”

“How the hell do I know?” He was still bleeding like a stuck pig. “Just get out of here. Drive!” he yelled at the driver, Nick, a dock worker he’d used before for less than legal jobs. “Circle the block until I can think of what to do.”

Ed caught a whiff of the blonde’s perfume and realized he was holding her sweater to his bleeding skull. He took another sniff of it. Nice. He tried to remember exactly what had transpired. It had all happened so fast. “Did you see who hit me?” he asked.

“I saw a man and a woman going down the alley,” Alec said. “I thought you said she’d be alone?”

That’s what he had thought. It had all been set up in a way that should have come off like clockwork. So where had whoever hit him come from? “So neither of you got a look at the guy?”

Nick cleared his throat. “I thought at first that he was working with you.”

“Why would you think that?” Ed demanded, his head hurting too much to put up with such stupid remarks. “The son of a bitch coldcocked me with something.”

“A gun. It was a gun,” Alec said. “I saw the light catch on the metal when he tucked it back into his pants.”

“He was carrying a gun?” Ed sat up, his gaze going to Nick. “Is that why you thought he was part of the plan?”

“No, I didn’t see the gun,” Nick said. “I just assumed he was in on it because of who he was.”

Ed pressed the sweet-smelling sweater to his head and tried not to erupt. “Are you going to make me guess? Or are you frigging going to tell me who was he?”

“Jack Durand.”

“What?” Ed couldn’t believe his ears. What were the chances that Tom Durand’s son would show up on this particular street? Unless his father had sent him? That made no sense. Why pay me if he sent his son?

“You’re sure it was Jack?”

“Swear on my mother’s grave,” Nick said as he drove in wider circles. “I saw him clear as a bell. He turned in the alley to look back. It was Jack, all right.”

“Go back to that alley,” Ed ordered. Was this Tom’s backup plan in case Ed failed? Or was this all part of Tom’s real plan? Either way, it appeared Jack Durand had the girl.

* * *

CASSIDY LOOKED AS if she might make a run for it at any moment. That would be a huge mistake on her part. But Jack could tell that she was now pretty sure she shouldn’t be trusting him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep her here. She reached for her phone, but he laid a hand on her arm.

“That’s the van coming back,” he said quietly. At the sound of the engine growing nearer, he signaled her not to make a sound as he pulled her deeper into the darkness of the doorway recess. The van drove slowly up the alley. He’d feared they would come back. That’s why he’d been hesitant to move from their hiding place.

Jack held his breath as he watched the blonde, afraid she might do something crazy like decide to take her chances and run. He wouldn’t have blamed her. For all she knew, he could have been in on the abduction and was holding her here until the men in the van came back for her.

The driver of the van braked next to the open doorway. The engine sat idling. Jack waited for the sound of a door opening. He’d put the gun into the back waistband of his jeans before he’d grabbed the blonde, thinking the gun might frighten her. As much as he wanted to pull it now, he talked himself out of it.

At least for the moment. He didn’t want to get involved in any gunplay—especially with the young woman here. He’d started carrying the gun when he’d worked for his father and had to take the day’s proceeds to a bank drop late at night. It was a habit he’d gotten used to even after he’d quit. Probably because of the type of people who worked with his father.

After what seemed like an interminable length of time, the van driver pulled away.

Jack let out the breath he’d been holding. “Come on, I’ll see that you get someplace safe where you can call the police,” he said and held out his hand.

She hesitated before she took it. They moved through the dark shadows of the alley to the next street. The sky above them had turned a deep silver in the evening light. It was still hot, little air in the tight narrow street.

He realized that wherever Cassidy Hamilton had been headed, she hadn’t planned to return until much later—thus the sweater. He wanted to question her, but now wasn’t the time.

At the edge of the buildings, Jack peered down the street. He didn’t see the van or Ed’s green car. But he also didn’t think they had gone far. Wouldn’t they expect her to call the police? The area would soon be crawling with cop cars. So what would Ed do?

A few blocks from the deserted area where they’d met, they reached a more commercial section. The street was growing busier as people got off work. Restaurants began opening for the evening meal as boutiques and shops closed. Jack spotted a small bar with just enough patrons that he thought they could blend in.

“Let’s go in here,” he said. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink. You should be able to make a call from here. Once I know you’re safe...”

They took a table at the back away from the television over the bar. He removed his Stetson and put it on the seat next to him. When Cassidy wasn’t looking, he removed the .45 from the waistband of his jeans and slid it under the hat.

“What do you want to drink?” he asked as the waitress approached.

“White wine,” she said and plucked nervously at the torn corner of her blouse. Other than the torn blouse, she looked fine physically. But emotionally, he wasn’t sure how much of a toll this would take on her over the long haul. That was if Ed didn’t find her.

“I’ll have whiskey,” he said, waving the waitress off. He had no idea what he was going to do now. He told himself he just needed a jolt of alcohol. He’d been playing this by ear since seeing his father and Ed at the cemetery.

Now he debated what he was going to do with this woman given the little he knew. The last thing he wanted, though, was to get involved with the police. He was sure Ed and his men had seen him, probably recognized him. Once his father found out that it had been his son who’d saved the blonde...

The waitress put two drinks in front of them and left. He watched the blonde take a sip. She’d said her name was Cassidy Hamilton. She’d also said she didn’t know why anyone would want to abduct her off the street, but he suspected that wasn’t true.

“So is your old man rich or something?” he asked and took a gulp of the whiskey.

She took a sip of her wine as if stalling, her gaze lowered. He got his first really good look at her. She was a knockout. When she lifted her eyes finally, he thought he might drown in all that blue.

“I only ask because I’m trying to understand why those men were after you.” She could be a famous model or even an actress. He didn’t follow pop culture, hardly ever watched television and hadn’t been to the movies in ages. All he knew was, at the very least, she’d grown up with money. “If you’re famous or something, I apologize for not knowing.”

* * *

CASSIDY’S HAND SHOOK as she put down her drink. She could feel the buzz of the alcohol mixing with the adrenaline still flowing through her bloodstream.

Someone had tried to abduct her! She’d grown up knowing something like this occasionally happened to the children of wealthy people in the public eye. But she’d never really been concerned because she’d grown up in Montana on a large ranch. After she’d left home, she hadn’t made a habit of telling her friends who her father was—and not because she feared being abducted.

For years, she’d tried to distance herself from the notoriety that had always surrounded her family. She’d wanted her own life, which wasn’t easy when you were an identical twin. She’d never felt like anything was truly uniquely hers. Add to that her infamous family and Cassidy just wanted to be free of what she considered a stigma.

But someone had found her. Not just found her, but had tried to kidnap her. She shuddered at the thought of what those men had planned to do with her.

“Look, I understand if you don’t want to tell me,” the Texas cowboy said. “It’s none of my business. I’ll just finish my drink and get on my way.”

Cassidy looked at the man across the table from her and felt a rush entirely different from the alcohol or the adrenaline. This man had saved her. Gratitude alone would have made her feel close to him. But there was something about him... She’d grown up around good-looking cowboys. But this one was exceptional. His dark hair was long and thick. His blue eyes laced with thick dark lashes. Maybe it was the alcohol amplifying her vision, but Jack Durand was drop-dead gorgeous and she hadn’t even noticed until this moment. Wouldn’t her friends get a laugh out of that, she thought, forgetting for the moment what had brought them together. She finished her drink, her hand a little steadier.

“Whatever you decide to do, I would suggest you call the police,” he was saying. “You aren’t safe.”

His words brought back the horrible minutes when the large man grabbed her and tried to put that stinking wet cloth in her face. Glancing toward the window to the street, she shivered. “You think they’re still looking for me?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Her gaze swung back to him. The bar was cool and dark and she felt safe sitting here with this cowboy. While a stranger, he’d risked his life to save her. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come along. I haven’t even thanked you.”

“No need to thank me. After what you’ve been through... Whatever the reason, though, I don’t think they’re going to give up.”

“Thank you and please don’t leave yet.” She was just so relieved he was here with her. What if he hadn’t come along when he had? She looked around for the waitress. She was still trembling inside, but the alcohol was helping. She really could use another drink.

He signaled for the waitress and she was grateful when he ordered another round.

“It is strange, though, that someone would be that brazen as to try to grab you in broad daylight,” he said.

Cassidy looked away for a moment. “I can’t imagine why anyone would try to...” As she turned back and met his gaze, she saw his expression turn skeptical and knew that if she wasn’t honest with him, he was going to let her deal with this on her own. Not that she could blame him.

“It probably has more to do with my father,” she added quickly.

“Your father? Who’s your father?”

“Republican presidential candidate Buckmaster Hamilton.”

He blinked. Clearly, he hadn’t connected the last name. Hamilton was pretty common so she wasn’t surprised he hadn’t made the leap. He pursed his lips, letting out a low whistle before he picked up his drink and drained it.

“That definitely puts things in perspective,” he said after a moment.

This was why she didn’t tell people about her father.

“I would think you’d have secret service watching you,” he said.

She shook her head. “They only provide agents for the underage children of candidates after the primaries.”

He looked surprised. “Well, I’m sure once you call the police—” The waitress returned with their drinks and took away the empty glasses.

She fiddled with her torn blouse. “I can’t go to the police.”

Jack seemed both surprised and maybe relieved to hear that. She didn’t blame him for not wanting to get involved. After all, he’d hit that man who was trying to abduct her. He was a hero. But that came with police reports to fill out, followed by an investigation. Once the media got involved... She quaked at the thought.

“Why don’t you want to go to the police?”

She took a sip of her wine before she said, “Do you have any idea what it’s like being the daughter of first a senator and now a presidential candidate who, according to the polls, is headed for the White House?”

“Not a clue.”

“I’ve been in the spotlight for one reason or another from as far back as I can remember.” She could feel the alcohol coursing through her blood and felt stronger. She took another sip of her wine and continued. “The rule at our house was always ‘don’t cause trouble because a scandal will hurt your father’s career.’ Since I left home to go away to school, I’ve tried hard to live my own life. But even when I thought people didn’t know who I was, I was still in my father’s shadow. Buckmaster Hamilton casts a very large shadow.”

“This friend you were staying with...”

“More like an acquaintance. But she didn’t know who my father was. Or at least I didn’t think she did.” Cassidy frowned. “Her boyfriend, though... I think he may have known. That’s the other thing about being...famous by extension. People are nice to you for the wrong reasons. It’s hard to have true friends.”

“Where were you headed earlier?” he asked, suddenly intent.

“To meet her and her...boyfriend.” Cassidy felt her eyes widen as her heart dropped. “I was set up, wasn’t I?”

* * *

JACK TRIED NOT to down his entire second drink. Cassidy was the daughter of the future president? What the hell was his father doing trying to abduct her? His father could be stubborn, worked too much, put too much value in making money and was a hard-nosed businessman. But to do something like this? It boggled his mind.

Worse, what was he going to do now? After seeing that wad of money his old man gave Ed and knowing how his father was about employees who didn’t do their jobs to suit him, Jack knew his father wouldn’t stop.

Nor would Ed. He’d be more careful next time. He’d be more prepared. But like Jack had learned, you didn’t let Tom Durand down or there would be hell to pay.

So how could he walk away now? Cassidy would be a sitting duck. And he didn’t want to think about what his father would do when he found out that Jack was involved in fouling his plans.

“Look,” he said to Cassidy. “You have no reason to trust me.” On the surface, he looked like an urban cowboy today instead of the former rodeo cowboy who’d grown up on a huge ranch outside of Houston. His father had bought the ranch as a tax deduction and given it to him lock, stock and barrel when he turned twenty-one. But the deal had always been that he would take over his father’s import/export business at some point.

Once he told his father he had no interest in doing that, that’s when it seemed Tom Durand had changed. Now he wondered if he’d ever known his father at all.

Clearly, the last thing he could do was tell Cassidy who he really was or that he thought he knew who was behind her attack—at least until he had proof.

So he stretched the truth. “But if you’ll let me, I’ll try to keep you safe until we can find out who is behind this and why.”

She took a drink of her second glass of wine. He could see from the shine in her eyes that she was feeling the alcohol. His plan hadn’t been to get her tipsy, let alone drunk. He’d just needed a drink to calm his nerves and a place where they were safe so he could think what to do next.

“What do you have in mind?” she asked.

He wasn’t that surprised that she was willing to trust him. She’d already proved she was too trusting given that she’d trust the acquaintance and boyfriend. But what did he have in mind? His thoughts raced as he considered how he could keep her safe—and yet find out the truth about his father’s involvement.

“We’re going to have to hide you out somewhere until I can get to the bottom of this. For starters, who knew you were in Houston besides this so-called friend and her boyfriend?”

“No one.”

That surprised him. “Not even your family?”

She shook her head. “They think I’m still in New York with a Frenchman I met while studying abroad.”

A Frenchman. Great. “So not even the Frenchman knows?”

Again she shook her head.

“Okay.” He studied her. “Also, you’re too cute and too blonde and too easy to recognize.”

She grinned, taking it as a compliment. “How about if I was a redhead?”

“I’m thinking brunette. I don’t know how you feel about cutting your hair...”

Cassidy shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about cutting it,” she said as she pulled a long lank of her blond hair around to consider it. “A brunette, huh? So a disguise?” The idea seemed to appeal to her. He wondered if it would have before her last glass of wine.

Even with the changes he was suggesting, she’d still be adorable, there was no getting around that. She had one of those classic faces, huge blue eyes, a button nose and bow-shaped mouth. She looked so damned innocent that he felt a stab of guilt. He wasn’t much better than her pretend friends she’d been staying with. Except that he wouldn’t sell her out.

He recalled hearing his father talking about the election and the Hamilton family. Cassidy’s mother, Sarah Johnson Hamilton, had returned from the dead about a year ago. Apparently, she’d tried to kill herself more than twenty-three years before by driving into the Yellowstone River. Her body was never found.

Then one day she just showed up—with no memory of the years she’d been gone. He remembered his father saying that her six daughters were now adults. He frowned as he recalled that the two youngest, twin girls, had only been a few months old when they’d lost their mother.

Going by age, that would have been Cassidy, he realized with a start. There was another one like her? He wondered where she was and if she was safe. His father had remarked that he couldn’t believe how much that family had been through. Hadn’t their stepmother died last year in a car wreck?

“You’re sure you don’t want to change your mind and go to the police?” he asked, feeling he had to give it one more shot since it was the smart thing to do—even if it would involve him and force him to lie. Whatever differences he and his father had, he wasn’t throwing him under a bus until he knew the truth.

“If I go to the police, my name will be in every newspaper and so will my father’s. And what is it you think the police can do to protect me? My father would insist I come home so he could hire guards. Or maybe I would get agents watching me 24/7. I wouldn’t be able to leave the ranch. And for how long? Until after the election? Or until he was no longer president? No, thanks.”

He’d forgotten for a moment that Buckmaster Hamilton was a Montana rancher, a former senator and now Republican candidate for president. Cassidy was one of six sisters. Was that another reason she didn’t tell people who she was? He’d thought living under his father’s domineering thumb was hard. Imagine what being one of Buckmaster Hamilton’s daughters would be like if he was as protective as she said.

But without the cops or the feds, the two of them were on their own. And Jack had no idea what they were up against. All he knew was that he now had the assumed future president’s daughter’s life in his hands.

CHAPTER THREE

“SARAH, I DON’T UNDERSTAND.” Republican presidential hopeful Buckmaster Hamilton paced the floor, his phone to his ear, his impatience wearing a path in the carpet. “I love you. I thought you were moving into the main house on the ranch. No more hiding, no more lying about how we feel about each other.”

“Buck, can’t we talk about this when you get home?”

“No, four months ago you went to your house to pack and the next thing I know you tell me you can’t move in until after the primaries. Well, the primaries are over. I need you. I can’t keep—” He heard the door open behind him. “I have to go.” He disconnected and turned to face his campaign manager, who’d come in with a stack of papers, no doubt the latest polls.

“Sarah? Is that who you were talking to?” Jerrod Williston asked in an impatient tone. “Buck—”

“Don’t start,” he said, holding up both hands. “I’m trying to put my family back together. I know I’ve been a little distracted.”

“You’ve been more than a little distracted. On top of that, all the media wants to know now is how your love life is going instead of talking about your platform. You’re the Republican presidential candidate. If you hope to stand a chance in hell of winning this election, you have to start acting like a president instead of a lovesick fool.”

“Tell me how you really feel.” He waved a hand through the air, afraid Jerrod would only go off again. More and more he was having his doubts about this run for president. Was this his dream anymore? Or was he trying to do this for his father, JD Hamilton? JD had withdrawn from the race because of a woman. Wasn’t Jerrod’s fear that Buck would do the same thing?

He’d had so much trouble with his family since he’d thrown his hat into the ring last year. But last year there had been no chance of having Sarah. He was still married to Angelina. He had been ready to throw away everything he’d worked for and divorce Angelina before she’d been killed in a car wreck.

Buckmaster felt a wave of guilt. Angelina’s death had worked in his favor, but he hated like hell how it happened. Now the only thing keeping him and Sarah apart was this damned election. That was why Sarah was dragging her feet, wasn’t it? Unlike Angelina, she’d never wanted to live in the White House.

So he couldn’t help questioning if bowing out now wasn’t the best thing for them. He needed Sarah. Maybe if he quit he could pull his family back together again. Then his daughters might come around and get closer to their mother.

Sarah was disappointed that the girls never called her. Harper was making an effort, but Cassidy had barely said two words to any of them. Buck had no idea what was going on with his youngest. He hadn’t heard from her either.

“You’re tired. This campaign has been taxing. You’ve had a lot on your mind,” Jerrod said. “You just need some rest and then we’ll—”

“I need my wife, I need my family.”

Jerrod let out an impatient breath as if he’d heard this too many times. “Sarah isn’t your wife. A wedding right now is the last thing you need. Win this election, then you can throw yourself a wedding on the White House lawn with all your daughters as attendants.”

Buck raked a hand through his hair. He’d noticed this morning in the mirror that he was getting grayer. It was no wonder given what he’d gone through in the past year. If it hadn’t been his first wife, Sarah, it had been his second wife, Angelina, or one of his six daughters. He was trying to keep his family together and run for president. He’d always felt that he owed it to his party, to his country. But right now he felt as if he had nothing left to give.

Jerrod came over to the desk in the room and put down the stack of papers he’d been holding. “You’re doing well in the polls. You have this. Try to have a little patience. Even the voting public is on your side. So don’t do anything to screw it up. Sarah isn’t going anywhere.”

He wasn’t so sure about that, recalling how Sarah had been ready to marry Russell Murdock not that long ago. Murdock had almost run her over when she’d come stumbling out of the woods last year. Until that moment, she’d had no memory of the hours before—or the past twenty-two years. She knew only that she had jumped from a plane and parachuted into those Montanan woods. After landing in a tree, she’d managed to climb down and walk some distance to the dirt road where Murdock had almost hit her. He’d been her protector and probably still was. Buck didn’t blame Sarah for agreeing to marry the man. Russell was apparently nice enough and at the time, Buck had been married to Angelina.

With Angelina dead for almost a year now, there was no reason he and Sarah couldn’t be together. Even the media had taken it easy on him when he’d admitted to a woman on the plane—who’d turned out to be a reporter—that he was still in love with his first wife. He’d thought her dead for twenty-two years, so no one could blame him for remarrying. Angelina had supported his political ambition. She’d been determined to put him in the White House. But she hadn’t lived to see that happen.

Now there was nothing standing in the way of him and Sarah being together. Nothing but this damned election.

* * *

CASSIDY AND JACK found a small market only a half block from the bar and bought what they needed. They’d grabbed a cab outside the store. Fifteen blocks away, the driver let them out at a run-down hotel.

Jack had looked over at her, his expression pained. “We can look for some other place if this is—”

“It’s perfect,” she said, gazing out at the large brick building. Maybe it was the drinks she’d had, but she felt as if she was a character in a thriller movie. “No one will be looking for me here,” she said, thinking how true that was. The memory of the large man who’d grabbed her on the street seemed surreal now. It had happened so fast that it felt more like a nightmare she’d now awakened from. Had it really happened or had she dreamed it?

Wired on adrenaline and alcohol, she had leaped at the idea of a disguise. For so long she’d wanted to be someone different. Now she was getting her chance. It didn’t hurt that a handsome Texas cowboy was her sidekick.

Jack chuckled as they got out of the taxi. “I hope you don’t regret this.”

Her whole life she’d been protected and pampered. She hadn’t taken chances. Hadn’t experienced any crazy adventures because scandalized behavior would hurt her father.

But now someone had tried to kidnap her—because of who her father was no doubt. She felt as if all bets were off. Had her whole life been heading toward this moment? Or was she deluding herself because she didn’t want to face just how dangerous this still was?

Jack paid at the scarred desk and then led her to the old elevator. It cranked and groaned as it climbed to the fourth floor. The hallway they stepped out into needed paint and new carpeting badly. It had an odd smell, one she didn’t recognize and didn’t want to try to place.

Jack put the old-fashioned key into the lock, turned and pushed open the door to their room. Cassidy hadn’t been expecting much, which was good. The hotel room was dark, dingy and sad.

“You sure this is going to work for you?” Jack asked, looking somewhat taken aback by their surroundings.

She laughed. “See why I don’t tell anyone who my father is? They start treating me like I’m a princess. I’ve roughed it camping out in the Crazy Mountains as a kid. I can take one bad hotel room.” She stepped in, going straight to the window. After she attempted to open it for what little fresh air there might be, Jack came up behind her and lifted it a few inches. Just the closeness of him sent a shiver of anticipation through her.

Cassidy wondered if he felt it as well and that’s why he quickly stepped away. Hot air rushed in but it smelled better.

Turning, she spotted the bags he’d brought up. Digging out the scissors and hair dye, she headed for the bathroom, leaving the door open.

“I saw a used clothing place around the corner,” Jack said from the other part of the hotel room. “I’ll go get you something else to wear.”

“Don’t you need to know my size?” she asked, turning in the bathroom doorway, scissors in hand.

He grinned as his gaze took her in. She felt warmth flood her. “I think I have it covered. Keep the door locked. I won’t be long.”

* * *

JACK HURRIED, not wanting to leave Cassidy alone for long. Inside the used-clothing shop, he quickly went to what he believed was her size and sorted through the clothes for something appropriate. Appropriate would be something totally different from what Cassidy had been wearing.

All the time, his mind was racing as to what to do next. They needed somewhere to hide her while he tried to figure out what to do. If his father was as deeply involved in this as he suspected... He had to know the truth. Short of asking him outright, he realized there was only one way he might be able to find out what was going on.

Now, he knew that his father had secrets. It was something he’d suspected, he realized, for a long while. When he’d worked at the warehouse, he’d discovered a locked drawer in his father’s desk. When he’d asked him about it, Tom Durand had said he just kept a little spare cash in it. He’d joked that he better never find it missing or he’d know who had taken it. Even at the time, Jack had questioned why his father would keep spare cash at the office. Tom Durand always carried a couple of grand on him.

Now Jack wanted to know what was really in that locked drawer. Which meant he’d have to go to the warehouse tonight. He knew he had to move quickly. If he was right and one of the men had recognized him, then his father would try to cover up any improprieties.

But what to do with Cassidy? He couldn’t leave her at the hotel. It didn’t feel safe with her alone. But where?

With several outfits he thought would work for her, he checked out and headed back to the hotel. Before he’d left, he’d put his gun under one of the pillows on the bed. He didn’t like walking around Houston with a loaded weapon even though he had a permit to carry it.

When he reached the hotel room, he used his key to open the door. He could hear her moving around in the bathroom and tried to relax. She was safe. At least for the moment.

He’d just placed the bag with his purchases on the bed when she came out of the bathroom. Her brunette hair was cut in a short bob that framed her face. The dark color brought out the tiny trail of freckles that arched over her nose and made her blue eyes look even larger. He stopped short at the sight of her.

“Is it that bad?” she asked in alarm.

He shook his head. “It’s that good. You look...amazing.”

She laughed, clearly relieved. “Isn’t it wild?” Rushing toward the bed, she said, “Let’s see what you got me to wear.” She held up the skirt and peasant blouse that went with it. “Oh, these are great. I can’t wait to try them on.” With that, she turned and hurried back into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

He stared after her, surprised by her excitement—and a little worried. The woman was excited about wearing hand-me-down clothing that hadn’t even cost him twenty bucks? People reacted differently to fear, he knew, but Cassidy almost seemed to be treating this as if they were on some undercover adventure instead of probably running for their lives.

* * *

BUCK REALIZED HIS campaign manager was still speaking.

“What about your girls? Are they on board?”

He thought about his six daughters. He wouldn’t exactly say they were on board when it came to his political career. They’d grown up used to politics being discussed at meals, they’d lived through his run for senator and the subsequent years of his being gone to Washington.

But he knew that as supportive as they’d often said they were, none of them wanted this kind of attention. “You don’t have to worry about them.”

Jerrod eyed him as if reading between the lines. “We need them with you the night of the election. The public will want to see them—and the solidarity.”

The election was months away, Buck thought. A lot could happen between now and then.

“You have a big debate coming up,” Jerrod continued. “I need you to be on top of this. You can expect questions about Sarah and your relationship. Maybe you should go home and get some rest. We can do a run-through as the date approaches. I want you relaxed, confident and ready to be president. Make sure Sarah understands how important that is.”

He nodded, although he wasn’t sure telling Sarah would make a whole lot of difference. The woman who’d returned after being presumed dead for twenty-two years looked like the Sarah Johnson Hamilton he’d known, but she didn’t act like her. Maybe that Sarah was gone and he was a fool for thinking he could recapture the past and put his family back together. Sarah said she supported him, but if anything, she didn’t want to live in the White House. Nor was she here with him now or waiting for him in their house back on the ranch.

“I’ll be ready for the debate,” he said, picking up his Stetson. The best thing he could do now was to go back to Montana. He needed to find out what was going on with Sarah and see his daughters. He missed them and worried about them all the time even though they were settled into their own lives. Olivia and Bo were each now happily married. Olivia was talking about a second child, Bo was expecting twins, and Kat and Harper were engaged.

Only Ainsley, his oldest, was still single, and his youngest, Cassidy. In truth, he had no idea where either of them was at this moment. Ainsley had taken a job scouting locations in Montana for film companies after dropping out of law school. Cassidy, as far as he knew, was still in New York dating some Frenchman she’d met while in Europe.

After Jerrod dropped him off at the airport, Buckmaster put in a call to his youngest twin. He felt badly he hadn’t kept in touch. He’d spent so little time with them. He’d put his political career ahead of his family and was now doing it again.

When Angelina was alive, her driving ambition had been a tornado-like force that had kept him aloft. He’d gotten caught up in her dream of his being president. But Angelina was gone and he had a bad feeling that he should have dropped out before the primaries. Now he would hurt his party and possibly lose the election for the Republicans. He told himself he was just tired. Things would look different tomorrow. Unfortunately, he doubted that.

The call to Cassidy went directly to voice mail. “It’s your father. Please give me a call when you have time. I can’t remember the last time we talked.” He hung up realizing that she hadn’t been home in more than a year.

As he boarded the plane—unlike some candidates, he flew commercial since it was what Montana voters expected of him—he told himself he had to convince Sarah to come on the campaign trail with him. With her by his side, he believed he could do anything. But without her, without his family...

As soon as he landed in Bozeman, he called to tell Sarah he was on his way. He just had one thing he had to do first—make a call to the owner of a local jewelry store. The store had been closed for hours, but the owner promised to meet him there.

He had no idea what had happened to the first engagement ring—let alone wedding band—he’d given Sarah, but if he hoped for a new beginning, it was time to put a ring on her finger.

* * *

AS SARAH JOHNSON HAMILTON disconnected from Buck’s call, she turned to look at the man standing with his back to her. He was dressed in a dated brown suit and tie, which made him look like a second-rate undertaker. Hardly anyone wore suits in Montana unless they were getting married—or buried.

As if feeling her gaze on him, Dr. Ralph Venable turned to look at her. He was in his early seventies, but didn’t look his age. A tall, lean man with kind blue eyes, the doctor had unexpectedly shown up at her door back in the spring, something she’d kept secret from everyone.

“Was that Buck on the phone?” he asked now.

“He’s landed. We have time.” She’d been packing, planning to move in with Buck that night back in early spring, when the doctor had shown up at the old ranch house where she was still staying.

Seeing this man had frightened her, since, while she lived on Hamilton Ranch, she lived some distance from the main house—and everyone else, including her former husband and her six daughters.

“Who are you?” she’d demanded, telling herself that she didn’t know the older man who’d appeared at her door without warning. But he knew her. And bone-deep, she realized she did know him. His name was Dr. Ralph Venable and he was the man who had stolen twenty-two years of her memory. Dr. Venable specialized in brain wiping. Not only had he stolen her memories, he’d also planted false ones.

“You made me forget my life,” she had accused, moving quickly to the kitchen, where she’d grabbed a carving knife and brandished it as he’d followed her. “You stole twenty-two years from me.” Her voice had broken with emotion. “I missed seeing my babies grow up. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you.”

“Because you need me.”

“Who hired you to do that to me?” she had asked, terrified he would say it had been Buck, the father of her children, the man she loved. She hadn’t wanted to suspect Buck, but the man who’d found her when she’d literally been dropped back into Montana, Russell Murdock, had been convinced that her husband had been behind the brain wiping. Russell believed that there was something Buck didn’t want her to remember. Something so terrible that it had driven her to attempt suicide all those years ago.

“I saved your life, Sarah,” Dr. Venable had said. “That winter night you drove into the Yellowstone River, your car breaking through the ice, the freezing water washing you downstream? I’m the person you called after that old hermit rescued you. You begged me to help you. The reason you called me was because you knew I was the one person you could turn to. The one person who understood and would help you.”

“It makes no sense why I would try to kill myself. I loved Buck. I loved my children. I loved my life. What would make me agree to leave them for any reason?”

“You had your reasons, though misguided, and that is why I sent someone to pick you up and bring you to my clinic in White Sulphur Springs, a half day away from Hamilton Ranch. You and I are friends, Sarah. We’ve been friends for years—long before you met Buck.”

“How is that possible? I don’t remember any of it!” she’d cried. “You stole that from me.”

“Only because you begged me to. You couldn’t live with the memories. That’s why you tried to kill yourself.”

She hadn’t believed him. She’d snatched up her cell phone, but his calm, reassuring voice had stopped her.

“Who are you going to call, Sarah? The sheriff? Your former husband? One of your daughters?”

She had looked down at the cell screen, her fingers momentarily frozen over the keys. Russell. He’d said to call him. He’d known Dr. Venable would come for her again. He’d known that Dr. Venable wasn’t finished with her.

“Even Russell can’t help you like I can,” the doctor had said, surprising her that he knew about Russell. Knew that was who she was thinking of calling.

“I can clear this all up for you, Sarah. You want answers? I can provide them. I am the only one who can. Put down the phone. I’ve come back to help you—just as we planned.”

She had looked from the phone to his face. Even as she’d tried to deny what he’d been saying, she’d known it was true. She had called him that night. She had trusted him. Even if she didn’t remember, there was one thing she had known. Dr. Venable had all the answers she desperately needed.

That day last spring, she’d asked, “You know why I tried to kill myself?” The knife had wavered in her hand, the cell phone forgotten.

He’d nodded. “I know everything from the first time you and I met all those years ago.”

She had begun to cry. He’d stepped to her, taking the knife, then the cell phone and putting them aside before he’d taken her in his arms like a kindly father comforting her.

“It’s all right, Sarah. You’re going to be all right now. I’m here. I’m going to help you. It’s time.”

Now, months later, she still felt afraid and angry. She still wanted to kill him. But they both knew it was true. He was her only hope if she ever wanted to get the memories back. She needed answers before she could be with Buck as his wife again. Dr. Venable kept telling her they had to return her memories slowly. She wasn’t sure she believed him, but she’d had little choice.

“I can’t keep living like this,” she said now. “I have to know what it is you’re hiding from me before I can commit to Buck. I don’t care if that’s your plan or not.” She dug her heels in. Just the fact that Dr. Venable was determined that she get back together with her husband made her resist.

He didn’t just scare her. It was clear from the moment she found him standing on her doorstep that he wasn’t just here for her. Whatever his ulterior motive was, it had something to do with her—and Buck.

Dr. Venable opened the small black bag he carried. He could have passed for a country doctor fifty years ago. He took out a tiny dark blue velvet bag. “I promise you that by the time he arrives, it will all be very clear.”

Her mouth went dry. She stared at the bag in his fingers, suddenly terrified. “What are you going to do to me?”

“I’m going to help you remember everything you need to know so your husband will be the next president and you will be by his side. Right where you are destined to be.”

Destined to be? Something in those words... Sarah felt her heart shudder. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to remember.

* * *

WHILE CASSIDY CHANGED into the clothing he’d bought her, Jack stepped out into the hall and called his father.

Tom Durand answered on the second ring. “Son, I didn’t expect to hear from you.”

Jack took a breath and let it out slowly. Had Ed recognized him earlier? Had he told his employer what had happened? “I didn’t like the way we left things the last time we talked,” he said, feeling his way cautiously.

“Neither did I. So I’m glad you called.”

“How’s LA?”

“Crowded compared to Texas.”

Jack could hear something in the background. “Are you on a plane?”

His father laughed. “A boat. Headed for Catalina Island. I have a meeting out there.”

It was several hours earlier on the West Coast, so not evening there quite yet. But still, there was no way his father could have gotten from Texas to California unless he’d jumped right on his private jet after Jack had seen him.

“How’s the weather?”

“It’s beautiful. Amazing sunset.” Tom Durand sounded downright cheerful. Jack was beginning to wonder if he had misread what happened at the cemetery. Maybe the money had nothing to do with the abduction of Cassidy Hamilton. Maybe his father was in California. Maybe he was on a boat to Catalina Island. Otherwise—

“Jack, if you’re at the ranch, could you do me a favor?”

He felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. “Sorry, I’m in town. Had to run a few errands. Is it something I can do when I get back there?”

“No, it can wait.” The sound of the boat motor seemed to be getting louder. Or was it an automobile motor and the sound in the background wasn’t waves but actually traffic on the highway? “I think I’m going to lose you. We’ll talk later. I’m glad you called.”

“Me, too.” He disconnected, more confused than ever. His father had sounded too cheerful. Also, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his father had only asked if he was at the ranch because he wanted to know where Jack was.

He was just putting his phone away when the hotel room door opened and Cassidy stuck her head out.

“I thought I heard you out here,” she said, her expression tensing when she saw that he’d been on the phone.

“I had to cancel a dinner engagement I had.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No,” he quickly assured her. “It wasn’t anything important.” Stepping back into the hotel room, he closed the door, winging his story as he went and hoping she bought it. “I was just verifying something. I saw a logo on one of the men in the van’s jacket sleeve. It’s a local warehouse company. It might be a place to start.”

She raised a brow in admiration he didn’t deserve. “Nice job. What company?”

“T.D. Enterprises Inc.” He saw from her expression that she’d never heard of it. “You look nothing like Cassidy Hamilton,” he said, glad to be able to change the subject. He’d picked up a pair of dark-framed glasses for her with clear glass lenses. The clothes, the hair, the glasses. The change was truly remarkable. No one would recognize her as the perky blonde she’d been hours ago.

Cassidy did a twirl, then smiling, asked, “So what’s our next move?”

Our next move? “I’m not sure you should go with me for this part,” he said, but she was already shaking her head before he finished.

“Like you said, I look nothing like Cassidy. So whatever you’re planning to do, I’m going with you.”

That was a bad idea on so many levels that Jack was at a loss for words. First off, they would be going to his father’s business. He didn’t want Cassidy knowing yet who he was or that his father might be behind this. Add to that the danger. They could be caught. They could even run into Ed.

“I’m going with you,” she said, standing her ground. “I’m the one who got you into this. So stop trying to think of reasons I shouldn’t.” She looked around the dingy hotel room and hugged herself. She was still scared and didn’t want to be left alone here. He couldn’t blame her.

And it was true. She didn’t look like the cute blonde Ed had tried to abduct earlier. Since he had a key to the facility, the two of them could waltz into his father’s offices without being questioned should the night guard catch them. Also, he could tell by her determined expression that she wasn’t going to sit tight and wait for him to figure this out.

If he hoped to help her, he couldn’t keep her locked up in this hotel room. Which meant he had no choice but to take her to T.D. Enterprises Inc. with him later tonight.

But first he had to retrieve his truck. If Ed had found it, then Jack was pretty sure he’d be waiting for him. It was why they’d taken a taxi earlier. He couldn’t leave the truck there overnight, though. Also, it was the best vehicle to take to the office. Which meant he was going to have to risk it.

CHAPTER FOUR

CASSIDY LICKED GUACAMOLE off her fingertips as she studied the man sitting across from her. Jack had taken her to a small Mexican restaurant in a funky neighborhood that went well with the clothing he’d bought her. She felt downright Bohemian. Her stomach had been growling by the time the waitress slid a huge plate of enchiladas, chiles rellenos, and beans and rice in front of her.

Earlier, he’d left her at the hotel, but only long enough to get his vehicle. He’d returned with a ranch truck. At first she’d thought he’d stolen it.

“I live on a ranch outside of Houston,” he’d told her. “I have use of the vehicles.”

“So what do you know about this company, T.D. Enterprises Inc.?” she now asked between bites.

“I gather it’s an import/export business.”

“What does that mean?”

“They buy and sell based on surplus, bringing in what Americans want and sending out what other countries want from us.” He shrugged.

“Hmm,” she said thoughtfully. “What would someone in the import/export business want with me?”

He shook his head.

She took another bite. Accidentally catching her reflection in a mirror across the room, she was momentarily startled.

“What?” Jack asked, sounding worried as he glanced over his shoulder.

“I just can’t get over how I look. I’m shocked when I see my reflection, but not in a bad way. I think I look more...interesting.” She touched her short hair, wondering why she’d never cut it. She and her twin, Harper, had had the same exact hairstyle since they were kids—long straight blond hair. “I like the clothes, too. I should shop flea markets more often.”

He laughed at that. “You’d look good in anything, even rags.”

She smiled at the compliment. Jack, however, seemed embarrassed, as if afraid it hadn’t come out the way he’d meant it. As she studied him, she realized something. “You know everything about me, but I don’t know anything about you.”

“There isn’t much to tell.” He seemed to concentrate on the food on his plate, as if embarrassed to have the topic turned on him. “I’m an only child.”

“I can’t imagine how wonderful that would be,” she said, only half joking. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my sisters, but it’s hard being one of the youngest and having five sisters bossing you around.”

“It must have been fun growing up, though,” he said as if truly interested. “You grew up on a ranch?”

Nodding, she said, “It was fun. We rode horses, swam in the creek, camped up in the mountains. The Crazies, at least that’s what people call the Crazy Mountains, are right out our back door. But there were drawbacks, too. I’m sure you’ve read in the papers about my mother, who supposedly died when I was just a few months old. She returned over a year ago after being dead for twenty-two years.” Cassidy shook her head, realizing that he’d turned the conversation back on her. “I bet your family is completely normal, right?”

He nodded. “Boringly normal. I was raised on a ranch, where I tried to ride any animal that would hold still long enough.”

“You rodeoed?” she asked. He had the look of a bronc rider.

Jack seemed to relax as he grinned and nodded. “There wasn’t a bucking horse on the circuit that didn’t leave me in the dust. I realized finally that I wasn’t born to rodeo. About then my father bought a ranch and I began to run it. It was my twenty-first birthday present. Don’t look so impressed. It was a tax write-off for him.”

“Still, nice present,” she said. “So what do your parents do?”

“My father is a businessman. My mother was a homemaker.”

“Was?”

“She died. A car accident.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“I miss her.” He grew silent. “It’s been a few years.”

She could see that the years hadn’t lessened the pain. She picked at her food.

“My oldest sister, Ainsley, pretty much raised us girls,” she said into the silence that followed. “Dad was always involved in politics. When he became a senator, he was gone a lot.”

“But you had a stepmother?”

“Angelina, the ice queen.”

Jack laughed and she laughed with him. “I take it you didn’t get along?”

“She ignored us, we ignored her. The only time we had to deal with her was when we got into trouble.” She mugged a face. “Then we’d have to hear about how we were ruining our father’s career with our selfish behavior,” she said in a stern voice.

“What kind of trouble did you get into?” he asked.

“Kid stuff. You know, caught with some young neighbor boy in the barn or getting busted at a local underage kegger or taking one of the ranch vehicles without permission and ending up in a ditch on the way home. I remember once when she caught me trying to ride one of the wild horses.”

“Seriously? You tried to ride a bucking horse?”

“You did the same thing.”

He nodded. “But you’re...”

“Female? You noticed.” She grinned at him and realized she was flirting about the same time he did. Instantly, he turned back to his food.

Cassidy took a few bites of her meal. She’d been having fun a few minutes ago, enjoying Jack’s company. For a while she’d forgotten why they were here and what was at stake and it had felt good.

But somewhere beyond this Mexican restaurant with its Latin music and wonderful smells were men who might at this moment be looking for her. She pushed her plate away.

“So how do we get into the offices at T.D. Enterprises Inc.?” she asked.

* * *

JACK GREW SERIOUS AGAIN as well. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun on a date. But this wasn’t a date. He was Jack Durand, the son of a man who as far as he could tell had tried to abduct the daughter of the future president. If Cassidy even knew who he was or why he’d just happened to be around to help her...

He couldn’t let himself think about that. Or what would happen if his father was really behind this. Instead, he concentrated on her question. He couldn’t simply admit to using his key to get into the warehouse tonight. “I know someone who knows a guy who works out there who owes him a favor. He’s going to leave a key for me at the back entrance.”

“Wow, the guy must owe him a huge favor,” she said.

“Houston is a small town when you lived here all of your life,” he said and she nodded, but still seemed a little dubious. He sighed. “Also, I told him a little white lie about having worked there for a short period of time and that I needed to get my personnel file. I told him my boss was an ass and I was trying to get into a graduate program and I needed to make sure that personnel file didn’t turn up.”

“Is any of that true?”

“I had to think fast on my feet.”

She smiled. “Clearly, you’re good at that, otherwise who knows where I would be right now.”

He felt a healthy jab of guilt. She was looking at him as if he was some kind of hero. He told himself it would be easier just to come clean and tell her who he was. Who his father was. But first he had to be sure that what he’d seen at the cemetery was exactly what he thought it was.

He needed her to trust him a little longer and then he would tell her everything. He couldn’t do anything until he knew if his father was involved.

Jack watched her drawing circles in the condensation on her iced-tea glass. From her expression, she was either reliving what had happened earlier on the street or having second thoughts. Was she suspicious of him and his explanations?

“Are you worried about us getting caught, because if you are, Cassidy—”

“No, and maybe you should call me something other than my real name.”

He hadn’t thought of that. “What would you suggest?”

She shrugged. “My sisters used to call me Beany.”

“Beany?”

“They had this silly little rhyme that went with it.” She looked embarrassed. “It was cute at the time.”

“Beany it is.”

Cassidy smiled that big, breathtaking smile of hers and he felt his heart do a few loop-de-loops before he told it to knock it off. He needed to keep both feet on the ground given that he was risking not only his own life, but also hers.

“You don’t have to worry about me tonight,” she said as if sensing his hesitation. “I won’t get in the way. I might even be of some help.”

Jack doubted that. He wasn’t even sure exactly what he was looking for. His father had paid Ed in cash, met him in an out-of-the-way place where there would be no random video camera footage of their exchange and even set up his own alibi, putting him in another state. So why would he leave any evidence of this transaction in his office?

No reason at all.

Still, Jack had to look. He’d always thought his father was a workaholic. Now he realized he could be a criminal. The thought turned his stomach. What would he do if he found out that it was true?

His chest ached, heart racing with dread. What were they about to find out? He thought of that locked drawer that he’d been curious about for a very long time.

* * *

SARAH STARED AT the tiny dark blue velvet bag as Dr. Venable opened it and turned the contents out on the table. A small gold pendulum plinked down followed by a thin coil of gold chain.

She felt her stomach turn at the sight of it and tried to still her trepidation at the thought of what might be hidden in her memory. Since Dr. Venable had shown up at her door, he’d kept promising that he would help her remember. But he’d put her off time and time again, saying they had to take this slowly. Today he’d promised that he would provide her with what she needed before Buck got home—only because she’d dug her heels in.

She had to know why she’d tried to kill herself all those years ago. She had to know the truth. Bracing herself, she would face whatever memories were locked away. She couldn’t keep putting Buck off. Just as she couldn’t let Dr. Venable keep giving her the runaround.

“I have some photographs I’d like you to look at first,” Dr. Venable said as he motioned Sarah into a chair at the table. He sat across from her and waited.

As she took a chair, he pushed half a dozen snapshots across the table to her. “Is this necessary?” she demanded. The last thing she wanted to do was look at the photographs he’d shown her once before—right after he’d shown up at her door.

Her patience had run out. He still hadn’t helped her remember her past. And yet she’d kept him a secret just as he’d asked—because of his promise to help her.

More and more she thought about exposing the man. She couldn’t tell Buck, but there was one person she trusted to help her whom she would call if the doctor didn’t do what he’d promised. And soon. She would call the man who’d found her when she’d literally been dumped off near an isolated road outside of town—retired rancher Russell Murdock.

Over the months she’d been home, she’d grown to not just trust Russell, but also to love him. That was why she’d agreed to marry him when it looked as if Buck would never be free. With the death of Buck’s wife, though, she’d had to break her engagement, telling herself she belonged with Buck, the father of her children.

Looking up now, she saw that Dr. Venable was studying her intently. “I promise that today you will have answers,” he said as if reading her mind—or accepting that she wasn’t going to wait much longer.

“Now, please,” he said. “Look at these.”

Sarah took the photographs he handed her and thumbed through them. “I don’t know any of these people. I told you that before.” She started to hand them back.

“Look at them again.”

She did, more slowly this time. There was one woman in the photographs and half a dozen men. None of them looked familiar. They all looked young and eager and maybe a little too bright eyed. She had no idea who they were, but something about them gave her an uneasy feeling.

“Does the woman look familiar?” he asked.

Sarah looked at the redhead in one of the shots. “She has a slight resemblance to me, is that what you mean?” Her hair was dyed an awful red color. With a small jolt of memory, she realized that she’d seen a photo similar to this some time ago, but couldn’t remember when or who had shown it to her. How odd that she couldn’t remember something that had to have happened since she’d returned.

She frowned, the beginning of one of her headaches starting. Pushing the photos away, she rubbed her temples. “You’re giving me a headache.”

He nodded. “Let me take care of it.” He removed the tie he’d been wearing and tossed it aside as he picked up the small golden pendulum on the slim gold chain. She felt her eyes widen, a sliver of fear piercing her skin, making her shiver as if she had reason to be fearful.

“It’s all right, Sarah. You want answers. I can give them to you. Trust me.”

She wanted answers, but she didn’t think she should trust this man. All her instincts told her that once he gave her back her memory, she needed to get as far away from him as possible.

“I want you to relax. I can make you feel better.” He began to move the pendulum back and forth, back and forth. The shine of the gold caught the light. His voice was low and soothing. Within moments, she was transfixed. Somewhere in her subconscious, she knew this was not the first time Dr. Venable had hypnotized her.

“Listen to my voice, Sarah. I am going to help you remember everything. You do want to remember the past, don’t you? You want to go back to where it all began. You want to remember that strong, intelligent, capable woman who could conquer the world. You are that woman. There isn’t anything you can’t do. You are a leader. Within you are all of the answers. Within you is a bright, beautiful tomorrow. I’m going to take you back. Back to another time. Back when you went by the name Red.”

* * *

“YOU’RE PUTTING THE ranch up for sale?” Destry Grant West sounded as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Dad, why? I know you haven’t been happy since...”

Russell Murdock could see that his daughter didn’t even want to say Sarah’s name. “Since Sarah broke our engagement?”

Destry let out a breath of obvious frustration. “I’m sorry that you’re hurt, but, Dad, she was all wrong for you. Surely, you realize that now.”

He didn’t want to get into this with his daughter. Destry had forgotten no doubt what it was like to be so in love with one person that no one else would ever do.

“You understand then why I want to sell the ranch and move away,” he said. “Not too far. I have to be able to see my grandchildren.”

She nodded, her smile sad. It was clear that she worried about him. Her fear, though, was that Sarah wouldn’t remarry Buckmaster Hamilton. His was just the opposite.

He hoped that someday Destry would understand that Sarah was in danger as long as she was around Buckmaster. It was why he had to get her away from him for good. Why he still couldn’t leave her. It was all too complicated to explain to his daughter, but still he tried.

“I know how you feel about Sarah, but a quack doctor stole her memories, replacing them with ones that terrify her.”

“Dad, you don’t really believe—”

“I know it for a fact. At first I was as skeptical as you that a brain could be wiped clean of memories or that false ones could be planted, but it’s true. It’s modern science. I believe that Sarah’s husband did something so horrible that he had this doctor remove the memories and take her away from the past twenty-two years.”

Destry was looking at him with a mixture of love and pity.

“I know you must think I am the most gullible man in the world...” He smiled and nodded, knowing that was exactly what she thought. “But Sheriff Curry was able to track down the doctor—or at least where he was—and verify that he was experimenting with brain wiping.”

“Dad—”

“I’m the only person she can trust.” His voice broke and he saw that he wasn’t making any headway with his daughter. He looked to her like a man blinded by love for the wrong woman.

“She broke your heart when she gave you back the diamond engagement ring,” Destry said kindly, but firmly. “She chose Buckmaster. You have to let her go.”

He nodded. He was wasting his breath. “Which is why I have to sell the ranch. You and Rylan don’t need the property, so I’ve put it on the market.” He didn’t add that he was planning to use the money from the sale to relocate—with Sarah.

He also didn’t tell his daughter that the quack doctor, Dr. Ralph Venable, was back in the States. All his instincts told him that the doctor would be contacting Sarah—if he hadn’t already.

She was going to need him—and soon. She’d been having flashbacks of memory that scared her when she was with him. And now Buckmaster had won the primaries. He had the Republican nomination.

The only fly in the ointment would be if Sarah’s memory came back and she knew the truth about what had happened all those years ago—and did something...crazy.

* * *

THE RING WAS CONSERVATIVE, the diamond not too large, the setting classic and tasteful. Buck held it up to the light. The owner of the jewelry store seemed nervous. He kept watching the door as if he expected photographers to show up any minute.

“I’ll take this one. I’ll need it sized.” Sarah’s hands were small. “She wears a six.” At least she used to. Surely, disappearing for twenty-two years wouldn’t have changed her ring size.

“It will only take a few minutes,” the owner said and hurried to the back.

Buck walked around the jewelry store. This had been impulsive. Now he wondered if Sarah would be upset with him. He couldn’t imagine why. But then he couldn’t imagine why she hadn’t moved in with him already.

Except that she must feel that he’d been stringing her along for the past year and a half, first because he was married and even after Angelina’s death, keeping her living on the ranch—but insisting she move into he main house only recently—and all because of his presidential campaign.

But what choice had he had under the circumstances, he thought with a curse. He wasn’t the one who’d left, the one who’d driven into the river in the middle of winter trying to kill himself. He wasn’t the one who, failing that, had taken off for twenty-two years, leaving behind six daughters. Nor had Sarah gone alone. He thought about the doctor she’d spent those years with, an older man, a man who apparently dealt in making memories disappear. And planting false ones.

Buck shook his head. At times he knew he hadn’t forgiven Sarah for what she’d done. Even when he told himself that she might have been suffering from postpartum depression, that the crackpot doctor was to blame for Sarah not being able to remember the years she’d been gone, that he himself had to take some of the blame, it didn’t help.

He feared he didn’t know this Sarah. That fear was like a small hard stone that had settled in his belly. Usually, it didn’t bother him, but sometimes...

Like when he crossed paths with Sheriff Curry, who had his own theories about Sarah. Curry thought Buck might have reason to fear for his life. The sheriff thought Sarah had returned home to harm either his campaign or him. Maybe even to possibly kill him once he was president.

“Your ring is ready,” the jeweler said. He was all smiles, as if he couldn’t wait to brag that he’d sold a diamond engagement ring to a future president.

Buck realized his mistake. He should have had one of his staff handle this. Now this would be all over the news before morning.

“Thank you,” he said and quickly left. He still had miles to go before he saw Sarah. Too much time to second-guess what he’d done or what he planned to do.

Buck used his hands-free phone to place a call to Ainsley, his oldest. He would tell her about the engagement, ask her opinion. He depended on her for advice. Her phone went straight to voice mail.

He started to call Olivia, but knew she was busy with the baby. Bo was pregnant with twins and hadn’t been feeling well. Harper had gone out of town with Brody. Kat might be around. But she wasn’t a good one to ask advice from. She didn’t have her sister Ainsley’s diplomacy. And right now he didn’t need an analytical discussion of the pros and cons.

All of his girls were busy living their own lives. He thought of Cassidy and had a strange feeling of foreboding as he tapped in her cell phone number. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to her. Worse, he had no idea even where she was.

The foreboding feeling was so strong that it scared him. He just needed to hear her voice, make sure she was all right. Her phone rang three times before her voice-mail message answered.

* * *

“YOUR NEW FRIEND AGAIN?” Jack asked as he drove and watched Cassidy check her phone out of the corner of his eye.

She shook her head. “It’s my father.”

Earlier the new friend who’d betrayed her had called. Jack had been right. Cassidy had been on her way to meet said new friend when she was almost abducted.

The friend had left a message. “Hey, where are you? We’re waiting, but getting really worried. Call me.”

“Do you think it’s possible she and her boyfriend weren’t in on it?” Cassidy had asked hopefully. “She says they’re worried. Maybe I should—”

“No, they want you to call because they need to know where you are,” he said. “Believe me, your friend and her boyfriend were in on it. Sorry.”

She nodded. “I guess I was just hoping it wasn’t true, you know?”

He did know. Just as he was hoping that his father wasn’t in on this either.

“You might want to turn your phone off or at least put it on vibrate.” He didn’t think anyone was tracking her via her cell phone. Not yet anyway.

She complied, her expression puzzled.

“Is it unusual for your father to call you?” he asked, guessing at what might be bothering her.

“I can’t remember the last time he called before today.” She looked up at him. “Odd, don’t you think that he should pick now to call?”

Jack did. He wondered if whoever was behind her abduction had jumped the gun and sent the candidate a kidnapping demand. Until that moment, he hadn’t really considered that this might be about money.

But it had to be about money. He couldn’t imagine what other demand his father might make, but then again, if Tom Durand was behind this, he never really knew his father.

Ahead, he could see T.D. Enterprises Inc.’s main building. He pulled the pickup over to the curb.

Cassidy sat looking out into the darkness of the warehouse district. “This is where we’re going?”

Jack felt jumpy, nerves like live wires under his skin. He feared what they were going to find. Worse, he felt as if he were getting Cassidy even deeper into this mess. Not to mention the lies he was telling by omission. When she found out... He couldn’t worry about that now. “The office is on the top floor. Are you sure you’re up for this?”

She nodded, her voice breaking when she spoke. “I’m good.” She wiped her hands on her skirt as if like his, they were sweating. That she was trying to act unafraid made him like her even more.

But as he climbed out, he couldn’t help but worry. This could go so badly. As they walked through the dark toward the hulking building, though, he wondered if this wasn’t merely a wild-goose chase. His father was too smart to leave anything for him to find. But then again, if his father really was on Catalina Island in the Pacific, he might not know that things had gone wrong yet. Ed might have put off calling him.

Also, if his father really was miles away, he hadn’t been able to come back here and hide anything he might have forgotten. There was a chance that Tom Durand thought he had nothing to worry about when he’d left for LA.

All it required at the back door of the facility was a sleight of hand in the dark. Cassidy hadn’t seemed to be paying that much attention anyway as he palmed his key and pretended to pick it up from a ledge near the door.

She was looking up at the fifth floor. He followed her gaze. A light was on—one they hadn’t been able to see from the street.

Was it possible his father had lied about being on a boat on his way to Catalina Island? He didn’t know why that surprised him—if true—since being a liar could be the least of his father’s deceit.

CHAPTER FIVE

CASSIDY FOLLOWED JACK into the huge old building. For a while, this had seemed a game. The new haircut, the clothes, the disguise, being with this Texas cowboy. Now, though, it felt way too real. She’d done her best to forget about what had almost happened to her earlier on the street.

But the memory was still there, ambushing her when she least expected it. Like right now. She suddenly felt vulnerable. What was she doing here with a man whom, until a few hours ago, she’d never laid eyes on before?

She couldn’t help questioning herself as their footfalls echoed through the emptiness of what appeared to be a warehouse. She’d always been too trusting. She hugged herself as their footfalls echoed through the hulking building.

There were huge containers and wooden crates everywhere. Only dim after-hours lights lit their way. They wound through them to a door marked STAIRS. The stairwell had even less light and a funky old-building smell.

“You’re sure there’s no one here?” she asked in a whisper as she heard something clank overhead.

“We’re about to find out. But I think it’s probably just old plumbing.”

Old plumbing? Wondering what she’d gotten herself into, she followed him up the stairs to the fifth floor, where he pushed open the door cautiously and peered around it. Her heart in her throat, she listened and heard nothing.

“Come on.” Jack stepped into the empty hallway and she followed. All the doors were closed except for one at the far end of the hall where the light was on. That door was partially open, a few inches of light spilling out into the hallway.

Cassidy grabbed Jack’s hand, stopping him. “There’s someone in there.”

He shook his head and motioned for her to follow quietly.

She hadn’t realized that she’d been holding her breath until they reached the office to find it empty. The light apparently had been left on by accident. Either that or the person was in the building and would be returning soon.

* * *

JACK MOVED QUICKLY to his father’s desk. He was about to open one of the drawers when he spotted the plaque sitting on the desk with his father’s name printed on it. There was also a photo of him and his father from a fishing trip they’d taken years ago.

He glanced at Cassidy. She’d come part way into the room and now stood looking around nervously. He quickly turned the plaque and photo facedown and began opening the drawers.

The top drawer had nothing interesting in it. Nor did several of the other drawers. His father fortunately was very organized, so it made the search easier. When he got to the bottom drawer, he found it locked—just as he remembered.

“How did you know there wasn’t anyone here?” Cassidy asked. She’d moved over to a wall of photographs. He felt his pulse jump in concern until he realized they were all snapshots of his father with dignitaries, politicians and even one with the latest president.

“No cars outside. Nor did I see anyone moving around up here.” He opened the middle drawer, hoping to find the key. No such luck. “I could have been wrong, though.” He shrugged when she turned to look at him.

“Find anything?”

“The bottom drawer is locked. I’m going to have to break the lock.”

She raised a brow at that.

He had hoped to get in and out quickly and not leave any evidence that he’d been here. Reconciled, he quickly stepped to the door and closed it. His father had hired a security firm that checked the building several times during the night. They came by at midnight and 3:00 a.m. Jack glanced at his watch. It was only a little after eleven.

Back at the desk, he took his father’s letter opener and began to pry at the lock. Cassidy, he noticed, had moved to another wall of photos. For a moment, Jack worried that his father might have a snapshot of him. But apparently he didn’t have to worry.

The lock finally gave and he pulled open the drawer, surprised to find it held only one item—a large metal box. He took it out, a little taken aback by how light it was. If his father kept a little spare money in here, it wasn’t much. Something inside it gave a metallic rattle. Like the drawer, the box was locked.

“Did you hear that?” Cassidy said, suddenly next to him.

He hadn’t heard anything but the noise he’d been making himself. He listened for a moment. This time it definitely wasn’t the old plumbing. He knew the sound of the old freight elevator only too well. It banged and clanked and whined. Which meant someone had pressed the button on the ground floor and was now on his way up.

Jack tried to gauge if they had time to make a run for it. Unfortunately, the stairwell was at the opposite end of the hall. He couldn’t take the chance.

He quickly closed the drawer with the broken lock. With luck, whoever it was wouldn’t notice—assuming this office was where they were headed. It hit him that if his father had been lying about where he was, he would be the one coming up here right now.

The elevator came to a noisy stop, the doors groaning open. An instant later, Jack heard the sound of heavy footfalls headed in their direction.

* * *

SARAH OPENED HER eyes and stretched, surprised to find herself lying on the couch. Her body ached as if she’d been curled up in the fetal position for a very long time.

“How do you feel?” Dr. Venable’s voice was soft and soothing. He had put the pendulum away. She had the feeling that time had passed, but she couldn’t remember it passing.

She nodded, not wanting to speak, just wanting to stretch and breathe. Her headache was gone and she was thankful for that. Remembering it, though, she recalled that he had promised to restore her memory. She sat up abruptly.

“Easy,” he said. “You might feel a little dizzy.”

She searched her memory. She couldn’t even remember how she’d gotten from a chair at the table to this couch.

“You are going to give yourself a headache if you try to remember everything at once. Take it slow. Start here.” He handed her the photographs again.

“I already told you. I don’t know those people.” At his insistence, she took the snapshots again. She knew the headache was only an instant away if she kept trying so hard to remember even the simplest things. She closed her eyes for a moment.

When she opened them, she glanced down at the top photo and felt shock ricochet through her.

It was a candid shot of a handsome young man. His name came to her in an instant. Joe Landon. She felt her heart do a bump against her ribs. Her mouth went dry and she couldn’t speak. The memories swept over her. Tangled sheets, bodies damp with sweat, skin dimpling as a breeze stirred the curtains and washed over their nakedness.

The memories brought goose bumps that raced over her as she recalled the feel of her long-lost lover’s warm flesh against hers.

“Joe,” she said after a moment and her eyes filled with tears.

“Yes,” Dr. Venable said and smiled.

“Is he...?”

“Alive? Yes. He is most anxious to see you,” he added, sounding pleased that whatever he’d done to her, she now remembered.

She looked up at him, shock rocking the already cracked foundation of her life. Earlier she would have sworn that she didn’t know these people, had never seen them before.

Now she looked at the other photographs. With a start, she realized she recognized all of the people in the shots. The most terrifying was when she recognized herself. She was the woman with the dyed red hair, she was— Dropping the photos in her lap, she hugged herself against the horrible truth. “I’m Red. I was a member of The Prophecy. I was...”

“The leader. You still can be.”

She shook her head and stumbled to her feet. It all came back to her. She’d been part of the anarchist group back in college that had led to the death of innocent people. What was even more shocking was that she had believed in what they’d hoped to accomplish. She’d come up with the plan. How was that possible?

“You were the leader. You and Joe. It’s true.”

She took a few steps away from him, hugging herself and shaking her head. Her skin felt clammy and cold. Her head whirled. She felt weak and sick to her stomach. But she remembered the names they’d used instead of their real names. Dr. Venable had been Doc. She’d been Red. Joe... Joe had been Achilles, the strongest and most fearless warrior in the Greek war against the Trojans.

A more current memory slammed into her thoughts. “John Carter and Warren Dodge tried to kill my daughter Kat!”

Doc looked sorrowful, but nodded. “Your daughter had to be stopped. She was getting too close. As it was, Joe had to scramble to protect you when they were caught. Sarah, you are still Red. You are still their leader. The Prophecy is depending on you.”

“No.” She turned to face him. “No.”

“You owe the others. They have sacrificed for you. They got Virginia Handley to confess to being Red to save you.”

“No.” She took a step back. She wanted to run but there was nowhere to go. She was trapped because now she knew that all of it was true. The nightmares, the memories of a powerful automatic weapon bucking in her hands, the taste of vodka on her lips, that feeling of being so powerful that she believed she could conquer the world. “Why would Virginia do that?”

“You remember Virginia. She lived on your floor at college. She would have done anything back then to be in The Prophecy. She’s the one who took all of these photographs. But she was wrong for us. When we found her again after all these years, she jumped at the chance to protect you. Also, she is dying of cancer. By the time her trial date comes up, she’ll be gone.”

Sarah stumbled to a chair and sat down hard. With her head in her hands, she said, “John is dead and Warren...”

“He will gladly go to prison. Just as Wally McGill and Mason Green have served their time like a badge of honor. We swore an oath all those years ago to give our lives to the cause. No one has broken that oath.” There was a slight hesitation in his voice. “Except you.”

“Even after all these years?” she cried, thinking these people must be crazy fanatics and that she was once one of them.

“Of course, after all these years. The Prophecy has been working in other parts of the world, waiting to do something big here in the States. That’s why I’m here. It’s time to finish what we started all those years ago.”

While she had no idea what that was, she knew enough to fear it. She raised her head to look at him. He hadn’t lied. He knew her. She could see it in his eyes. It was almost as if he could read her mind, know what she was going to do even before she did. He knew about Russell and that she’d been ready to confide in him. He also knew how she felt about Buck.

Sarah saw what he’d done. He’d given her back these memories—only to stop her from telling anyone. She was a murderer—just like the rest of them. Maybe more so because she’d been the leader. Unless she went along with whatever the anarchist group still had planned...

“What are they planning?” she demanded, her voice hoarse from unshed tears.

“You will know when it’s time.”

* * *

CASSIDY FELT PANIC fill her as she listened to the footfalls growing nearer to the room where they were trapped. Whoever it was, he was headed right for this office.

“In here,” Jack whispered as he opened the door to the small closet and pulled her inside with him. The closet was tiny and lined with shelves filled with office supplies and papers.

There was little room to stand for the two of them and the metal container that he’d found in the bottom drawer. They pressed their bodies together in the cramped space as tightly as they could and yet he’d only been able to partially close the closet door.

She heard the outer door bang open and heavy footfalls as someone entered the room. Through the sliver of light from the partially open closet door, she caught a glimpse of a large man. She didn’t get a look at his face as he headed straight for the desk. A moment later she heard him let out an oath and begin opening and slamming the drawers.

When he suddenly stopped, Cassidy thought for sure that the next place he would look would be the closet. She held her breath. Jack seemed to be doing the same thing. Her heart jackhammered as the man started to turn toward their hiding place.

A phone rang. The man hesitated before pulling out his cell on the second ring. “Urdahl,” he said into it. He stood, apparently listening to whoever was on the other end of the line for a few moments before he said, “Well, I hate to be the bearer of even more bad news, boss, but the package you asked me to pick up is gone.”

The man held the phone away from his ear until apparently the caller quit yelling. Cassidy couldn’t make out the words, but she heard enough to surmise that his boss was very angry. “Like I said, this wasn’t my fault. I have men at his house in case he comes back. He hasn’t been back since this morning and didn’t show for some appointment he had this evening. Just tell me how you want me to handle this.” He listened for a moment. “Right. I’ll let you know when I find her. But what do you want me to do about your son?”

* * *

“THERE’S ONE MORE thing I need to know,” Sarah said as she realized Dr. Venable planned to leave without answering any more of her questions.

“In good time,” Dr. Venable said.

“No,” she said, digging in her heels as she stepped past him to block the door. She crossed her arms and held her ground. “I want to know why all those years ago I drove into the Yellowstone River in the middle of winter in an attempt to kill myself. I need to know why I left six beautiful daughters. Why I left a husband I loved. I want to know now or I’m going to call the sheriff.”

Dr. Venable studied her openly for a moment. “You want to spend the rest of your life in prison? Once everyone knows you’re Red—”

“Now or I make that call.”

He sighed. “All right.” His face hardened along with his eyes. “You weren’t supposed to fall in love with Buckmaster Hamilton. You were supposed to blend in, like the sleeper spies the Russians sent over to assimilate into our communities. Having children was fine, though we questioned why you would have so many. Six?” He shook his head. “You were supposed to...blend in until it was time. Instead, you bought into that life. You wanted to forget the past. You wanted to forget about our plans. When Joe contacted you—”

“So that was it. I wanted out of The Prophecy,” she said, feeling as if things were finally making sense. “And I wanted out of whatever...plans you say I came up with.”

Doc nodded. “You’d lost that fire you’d had, that desire to change the world. All you cared about was your precious family. You bought into the bourgeoisie. You had everything you wanted and you were ready to sell the rest of us out.”

She frowned. “But you couldn’t let that happen.”

“Not me. Joe. After two of our members had spent years in prison for a cause that you said you believed in, he was determined you weren’t getting out. Not after the rest of us had done our part.”

Still, why would she leave her precious family and the people she loved? “You threatened me.” With a curse, she met his gaze. “No, you threatened to use my family to force me...” Her hands balled into fists. Had she held one of those automatic weapons she used to fire when she believed in the philosophy of The Prophecy, she would have turned it on him.

That bonfire he talked about, that need to “do” something, burned brighter than ever inside her. Only what she wanted to do was destroy The Prophecy. Which meant destroying not only herself, but also her family. Destroying Buck.

She looked at Dr. Venable and felt a bubble of bile rise as she realized she was still between the same rock and a hard place that she’d been more than twenty-three years before. The members of her old anarchist group would never let her quit.

Taking a moment to get control, she considered the precarious position she was in. She still didn’t have all the facts because she didn’t have all of her memory yet. She didn’t know what they had planned. But once she did...

She nodded as if coming to the decision he wanted her to. “So failing my attempt to...escape by killing myself, I called you.”

“I was the only one who could help you and you knew it.”

“I trusted you apparently. And your answer to my problem was to steal all memories of that life.”

“You begged me to. I erased it and then took you away from here as well. We were happy in Brazil. Oh, don’t look so horrified. We weren’t lovers. We were...associates. We talked a lot about changing things—just like we did during your college years.”

“I don’t understand how I came to be part of The Prophecy.” In high school, she’d been the perfect daughter, perfect student, perfect citizen. She’d gotten a scholarship to university. What had happened when she reached there? Had it been Dr. Venable who’d changed her? Or had it been—

“Joe brought you in.”

She nodded, closing her eyes for a moment. Of course she’d been a vulnerable, wide-eyed small-town girl at a big university and Joe was handsome, charming, sexy, intense, like no other man she’d ever met. He’d been her first lover. Memories flooded her. She shuddered at the thought that a part of her could still be vulnerable to him.

“It wasn’t an accident that you met and married Buckmaster Hamilton,” Dr. Venable said. “You chose him as part of a plan.”

She frowned in surprise. “But how could I have possibly known he would run for president, let alone that he might stand a chance of winning all those years ago?” The words were barely out when she realized her mistake. “Buck was just a way to get to Senator JD Hamilton. As his daughter-in-law, I would have influence over him. There was talk that he might run for president. I was to make sure that he did, right?”

Doc nodded. “It would have worked if he hadn’t fallen in love with the young girl who lived on the ranch next door.”

“We can’t help who we love,” she said, thinking of Buck.

“You and Joe seemed the perfect match.”

She shook her head. “Whatever Joe and I had, it wasn’t love. He indoctrinated me.”

Doc bristled. “I wouldn’t let him hear you say that. And you can say you were brainwashed, but you seemed more than willing to take up the cause. After all, you’re the one who came up with the plan to go after Senator JD Hamilton.”

“I was young and stupid.”

“Your plan almost worked.”

“What plan was that? The same one you have for Buck?” Sarah saw that he had no intention of telling her. “I need to know what you’re going to do to him.”

He quirked a brow. “What makes you think we’re going to do something to him? It will be up to you what happens. But first you have to convince him that you’re dying to live in the White House, dying being the key word.”

“You would kill me—”

“Why would we kill you?” Dr. Venable said as he handed her back her phone. “You and Joe are going to lead us. Just like you used to. When the time comes, you’ll know exactly what has to be done and you’ll do it.”

“Is that what you told JD Hamilton when he was ready to quit the race for president?” she asked.

“Unfortunately, JD disappointed us and had to be dealt with. You have too much to lose to let that happen.”

* * *

AS HE HEARD what Ed said into the phone, Jack no longer had to wonder if his father knew that he’d helped Cassidy escape. Nor did he have to speculate on whether his father would know that he was the one who’d broken into his desk and taken the metal box he now held under his arm in the dark of the closet.

He’d been seen. Shaken, he watched Ed Urdahl through the crack between the door and jamb. When he’d told Cassidy that Ed was looking for both of them, he’d been hoping it wasn’t true. But it was.

Had his father known already when Jack had called him? Had Tom Durand made up the story about being on his way to Catalina? Maybe the sound he’d heard in the background was his father’s private jet engine.

Which meant his father could be back in Houston. In fact, he could be looking for Jack at this moment. Apparently, there were already men out at the ranch waiting for him to return. There was no place safe. He and Cassidy were truly on their own.

“Okay, I’ll handle it,” Ed was saying into the phone. “I’ll let you know when I find them. I said I would find them. When I do, I’ll call and then you can tell me what you want me to do with them.” Ed held the phone away from his ear, but Jack could hear his father yelling, although he couldn’t make out the words.

What did his father plan to do with them? He still didn’t know why he had wanted to abduct Cassidy. What had he planned for Ed to do with her? And now the big question, what had his father just told Ed to do about him?

“Yes, I heard you. I’ll take care of it.” Ed finished the call without another word and pocketed his phone. He stood for a moment as if trying to remember what he’d been about to do before the call.

Jack didn’t dare breathe. Behind him he felt Cassidy’s hand rest on his back as if like him, she feared that the man would head for the closet next. He thought about pulling out the gun, but he feared he would give away their position. It was tight enough in the closet, especially with him holding the metal container.

Not only that, when Ed had reached to put his phone away, Jack had seen the gun in the man’s shoulder holster. Cassidy had, too, because he’d heard her startled intake of breath behind him.

Ed stood for a moment looking down at the desk before he walked around it and out of the office. Jack listened to his retreating footfalls, still holding his breath. If Ed suspected that Jack was hiding in the building, he would wait and catch him when he came out.

The sound of the old freight elevator clanked and groaned as if rattling the entire building as it descended. After a while, the night fell silent.

“Jack?” Cassidy whispered.

He shook his head, turning only slightly to motion for her to wait.

She nodded, but her blue eyes were huge and she still had her hand pressed to his back. He could feel her trembling. He was shaking just as wildly inside. What the hell was going on with his father?

Jack didn’t know how long they stood there. His mind was like a hamster on a wheel. What was his father involved in? Whatever it was, Jack and Cassidy were now up to their necks in it.

The building sounded as quiet as a tomb when he finally pushed the closet door open a little wider and looked out. Ed had left the office door open, but he’d turned out the light as he’d left. The hallway was empty.

Cautiously, he stepped out, motioning for Cassidy to stay where she was. If he got caught, he didn’t want her caught as well. He moved to the doorway and looked out. Nothing moved in the dim light of the hallway. No sound came up from the floors below.

Ed had taken the elevator. That meant he hadn’t expected anyone to be in the building, otherwise he would have sneaked in as they had. Jack felt a little better at that thought, which meant there was a good chance Ed wasn’t waiting outside for them. Jack had parked the truck away from the building and on a side street. Ed would have taken the main street to the office, so he wouldn’t have seen it.

At least that was Jack’s hope as he motioned that it was okay for Cassidy to come out now. He stepped close to her to whisper, “I think he’s gone, but we aren’t going to take any chances.” He held his finger to his lips and she nodded jerkily.

He could tell that she was scared. It had been a close call. Also, he was pretty sure that she’d heard what Ed had said. The big man was still looking for her. But now he was also looking for the boss of T.D. Enterprises’ son—Jack Durand.

From Cassidy’s expression, she hadn’t put that part together. At least not yet. He hoped she thought that the boss’s son was one of the men in the van.

“He had a gun and he knows we have the box,” Cassidy whispered, eyes big and round with fear. “What do you think is in it?”

He had no idea as he glanced at the battered and tarnished metal still tucked under his arm. It was a Pandora’s box. He feared what would come springing out the moment he opened it.

She still looked scared, but he was terrified of what his father had hidden inside an old locked metal container he’d kept for years inside a locked drawer. “Let’s get out of here.” Shifting the metal box to his hands, he heard that faint metallic rattle again from within.

Cassidy must have heard it as well. “Maybe we shouldn’t take it.”

Did he really believe the answer to why his father would have the probable future president’s daughter kidnapped was inside this box? But he now knew that his father had secrets—and some of them were apparently in this beat-up metal box.

Jack needed to know what he was dealing with—who he was dealing with.

CHAPTER SIX

“HOW IS SHE?”

“Sarah’s shocked and confused right now,” Dr. Ralph Venable said into the phone. “It’s to be expected.” He’d been regretting making this call, fearing the outcome, ever since he’d left Sarah. Buck would be home by now. At this point, Doc could only hope that she didn’t confess everything. “She’s having a tough time.”

Joe Landon sighed. “You know I never stopped loving her. When she went out to Montana to meet Buckmaster Hamilton and get close to his father, Senator JD Hamilton, I almost went after her, wanting to stop her. I was ready to run away with her and put The Prophecy behind us.”

He thought of the young Joe and Sarah as they had been at nineteen. Such a beautiful couple. Joe had brought Sarah into the anarchist group with his handsome face and his passion, as well as his radical ideas.

“Why didn’t you go after her?” Venable asked, thinking how different things would have been if Joe had.

“Because she didn’t love me enough. She wouldn’t have renounced The Prophecy for me.” Venable heard the sharp edge of bitterness in the man’s voice.

“You don’t know that.”

Joe laughed. “Actually, I do. The night before she left, I told her I was in love with her. It didn’t make a damned bit of difference. She was determined to start a revolution and that meant going after the Hamilton who everyone thought would be the next president. And yet, years later, she tries to kill herself rather than go through with her own plan all because she’s fallen in love. She had what she wanted so to hell with the rest of us.”

Venable said nothing. There was nothing to say since it was true. Sarah had fallen for Buck and adored the children they’d had together. She had wanted to wash her hands of The Prophecy and had refused to go through with the plan.

There’d been only one thing to do after she’d failed at suicide and called him. He had wiped away the years with Buck and her children and taken her to Brazil to keep Joe from killing her.

“So,” Joe said now. “Are you going to be able to control her like you said you could?”

“So far she has done exactly what you require. She’s gotten close to Senator Buckmaster Hamilton again, encouraging him in his race for president.”

“She was briefly engaged to some cowboy named Russell Murdock,” Joe said angrily. “That wasn’t exactly in the plan.”

“But we took care of that when we exterminated the senator’s wife, Angelina. Just as I predicted, Sarah broke her engagement and moved onto the ranch.”

“I want them married,” Joe said through gritted teeth.

“You also want him to win the election or all of this would be for nothing,” Venable pointed out. “You got me back to handle this, so let me.”

“Even if you can get the two of them married and Hamilton wins, I’m not convinced that you can make Sarah do what we need when the time comes. If she no longer believes in our cause...”

That was putting it mildly, Venable thought as he rubbed the gray stubble at his chin. There were days he felt just as she did. Like Sarah, he’d been on fire with fanaticism all those years ago. He’d believed that a handful of people could change the world. That they owed it to themselves and the world to make that change. He’d been full of confidence and brazen disregard for everything and everyone but the members of The Prophecy, the group he’d started since he was the oldest of them.

It was Joe, though, who not only adopted his radical views, but also pushed the others to do what they had to in order to get the attention they deserved.

When one of their bombs had killed innocent people and Mason Green and Wallace McGill had gone to prison, Venable had wanted to stop. This wasn’t what he envisioned.

It had been Sarah who had insisted they couldn’t quit. They owed it to Mason and Wally. They owed it to the lives they’d taken. They owed it to their country to try to change the things that were wrong with it but to do it peacefully.

That’s when she’d come up with the plan to make a real difference from the inside. Joe had been against it, but he’d gone along thinking Sarah would come back to him.

“From my source inside Hamilton’s campaign, I understand that Buckmaster is also having doubts,” Joe said. “We can’t let him do what his father did. He can’t pull out of the race.”

Venable thought of JD Hamilton. Sarah had done her part beautifully. No one could have predicted that JD would fall in love with some young girl and be willing to give it all up. Love, he thought with a curse.

“There are always variables that have to be considered. We can’t control everyone,” the doctor said.

“But we can control Sarah. That’s why I’ve taken things into my own hands to make sure she holds up her end of the bargain,” Joe said.

Fear wedged against his heart. Joe, bitter over how things had turned out with Sarah, had become a hothead who acted before he thought things out. “What have you done?”

“Taken necessary steps to see that Sarah doesn’t weaken. Otherwise, she is going to lose one of her daughters.”

“You kill one of the daughters and I can promise you Buckmaster will pull out of the race,” Venable said, furious with Joe. While the doctor had started The Prophecy, Joe, who was younger, stronger, more charismatic, had taken over. Joe hadn’t had the brains, but once he hooked up with Sarah, the two of them were a team and Venable had lost the anarchist group he’d founded—and any power he’d had. He had never been more aware of that than he was right now.

It made him question what he was still doing with them. He was an old man. He’d given his life to his research and The Prophecy. “You could destroy everything with this...maneuver,” he said, unable to hide his anger.

“No one said anything about killing her,” Joe assured him. “Unless it becomes necessary. Same with Sarah. You already protected her once. I suggest you not do that again.”

Venable swore. After Sarah had tried to kill herself all those years ago, and failing, had called him, he’d saved her by taking her to Brazil. Unfortunately, Joe had found out where they were and insisted Sarah be returned to Montana because Buck was talking about running for president.

He’d had no choice but to go along with it. Joe had made it clear that he would kill them both.

Now, though, he feared Joe was going to land them all in prison. “Joe, you can’t—”

“Don’t worry about it, Doc. You just do your part.”

He heard what Joe didn’t add. “Do your part—or else.” He hated the fear that crowded his lungs and made breathing next to impossible. He wasn’t sure how many days he had left.

But he knew one thing for sure. He didn’t want to die at Joe’s hands. If he couldn’t control Sarah, he knew Joe would. For her sake as well as his own, he had to get through to her. If he didn’t, her former lover would.

* * *

CASSIDY FLOPPED INTO the passenger seat of the pickup and closed her eyes. They’d run the last block in the darkness, the only sound the pounding of their soles on the pavement.

Now she tried to catch her breath. Her heart hurt it was thumping so hard. This was too real. She’d seen the man’s gun. She’d heard him on the phone. Jack was right. Nothing was going to stop them.

She opened her eyes and looked over at Jack as he started the engine and pulled away from the curb. “What do they want with me?”

“I would imagine money. But with your father apparently a shoo-in for the presidency...” He glanced over at her as he took a turn, then another through the empty industrial area.

There weren’t any other vehicles on the dark streets, making it seem even more sinister. Cassidy realized she was shaking. Nothing like this had ever happened—nothing even close. Maybe she should call her father. Or even the police.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the glint of the metal box Jack had found in the locked drawer. “You think the answer is in there?”

He shrugged as he took another turn. His gaze kept going to the rearview mirror.

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