Page 11 of Dead Man's Hand

“I fear she did,” Luella said, her voice cracking. “Broke my heart. That sweet innocent baby boy turned over to someone too immature, too irresponsible, too incapable of even taking care of herself let alone another life.”

“How can I find Sheila?” he asked, hoping Luella had more than just the woman’s first name to give him.

“I never knew her last name.” His heart fell. “But I did hear from Judy that Sheila had gotten married. Said Sheila’d had a baby. Married some man named Grandville.”

Buck knew the name. It was an old money Montana name. “You think the baby Sheila allegedly gave birth to was the baby boy Judy had given her?” Luella nodded. “You remember which Grandville she married?”

“Darrow Grandville,” Luella said, not hiding her distaste for the man.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of Darrow Grandville,” Buck said, surprised.

“He was a cousin of the Grandvilles of Butte. Thought he was something, him and his fancy car, but I wasn’t fooled.” She shook her head. “I knew nothing good could come of it. Not a year later, Sheila was back—without the baby or the husband. Judy said Darrow had gotten into some kind of trouble and had to go underground, so to speak. I didn’t ask about the baby. I didn’t want to know.”

“Underground?” he repeated.

Luella waved a hand through the air. “Some place outside of Butte, not really a ranch. The way Judy described it, the place was a hideout for outlaws. She always exaggerated, though. The ranch had a jewel in the name.” She narrowed her eyes for a moment as if straining to come up with it. “Emerald Acres or something like that. I’m sorry. It’s been too long.”

“That will help,” Buck said, hoping it was true.

“You think you can find him?” she asked, sounding as skeptical as he felt. “I mean for all we know, he didn’t survive.”

“I have to find him. Or at least find out what happened to him. If he’s alive, his twin sister needs him at her wedding. As the groom, I’ll turn over every rock looking for him.”

As he left, he called the Colt Brothers Investigation office. “I need to find a ranch that existed near Butte almost thirty years ago. Might have been called Emerald Acres or something with a gemstone name.”

“I’ll put Tommy on it,” James Colt assured him. “Anything else?”

“I’m also looking for a man named Darrow Grandville.”

“Grandville? Like the Grandvilles of Butte?”

“A cousin apparently, a disreputable one possibly. He might have had my future bride’s twin with him when he got into trouble and had to go to the ranch hideout.”

“Great,” James said. “I’d be careful with the Grandvilles.”

Buck laughed. “Last I heard, they’d gone legit.”

“Yeah. Crooks in high places are still crooks and even more dangerous. Also it’s Butte. Tough town if you cross the wrong people.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Let me guess,” James said. “You’re headed for Butte.”

“Tell Tommy to call me if he finds anything on the ranch or Darrow. I might have to rattle some cages.”

“I’ll pay your bail,” James said, and hung up.

DJMENTALLYKICKEDHIMSELF,wishing he hadn’t told Sadie so much about his life with his uncle. He blamed it on being back in Butte. Memories assailed him the moment he started up the mountain to the old part of town. His uncle had loved Butte. He’d made a lot of money here and had been almost killed doing it several times. His uncle always said that he wouldn’t have survived if it wasn’t for DJ.

The two of them hadn’t just been on the run from hotel managers and the dozens of people his uncle conned. “If anyone asks you why you aren’t in school, you need to have a lie ready,” Charley had warned. “Otherwise, they’ll take you away from me, put you in a foster home, force you to go to school. Believe me, that’s the last thing you want to happen.”

Charley had grown up being kicked from home to home before he’d taken off on his own at sixteen and learned the grift from old codgers he met on the street. He taught everything he knew about the con to DJ. Everything else, DJ had learned when he was young from reading and television. Most hotels had books lying around that people had left behind. If desperate, there was usually a Gideon Bible in a motel room.

Once he was older, DJ got his GED and applied for college. Four years later he had a business degree and a legit job that he held on to for almost seven years. Poker night was just a way to pick up some spare change. Then he heard that his uncle Charley needed his help. He quit the job that he later admitted he hated, but before he could reach his uncle, Charley was arrested and sent to prison. That’s when he met Sadie’s godfather and went to work paying off his uncle’s debt and buying him protection while inside. Charley died in prison two years ago of a heart attack.

DJ seldom looked back. That was something else his uncle had taught him. “Spend time looking behind you and you’ll trip over your own two feet,” Charley used to say. But being here brought so much of it back, the good, the bad and the downright ugly, he thought.

He tried to concentrate on setting up the poker game rather than going down a very bumpy memory lane. He’d picked up his phone to call Sadie a dozen times, needing to hear her voice, needing to know that he wasn’t making a mistake, but he hadn’t called.

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