Page 36 of River Justice

“I think it is more likely that you’re the prime suspect even with my alibi. So right now you need to take my advice.” She grinned as she took his arm. “Why else would you be hanging out with me?”

She had a point, he thought as he pushed open the café door and stepped out into the warm summer night. Montana was at its best this time of year. It was when people fell in love with it. Also when people fell in love, period.

Why was he spending so much time with this woman? She wasn’t his type, if he had a type. But tonight, the idea of going to Miles City, an hour away, to visit Lulabelle had its appeal since it would get them out of town. He could avoid seeing his mother a little longer. He figured she felt the same way since she hadn’t called or made an attempt to see him.

He still felt angry with himself, going back and forth between wishing he’d found out sooner about his parentage and wishing he’d never found his biological father. Given the way he was feeling, leaving Powder Crossing for a while seemed like a really good idea, especially if there was even a chance it could help Holly Jo. He was worried about the girl as darkness settled into the Powder River Basin.

HOLLYJOLAYdrifting as if weightless in the darkness. She wasn’t sure what had awakened her. She couldn’t hear anything. She could see through the cracks in the boards on the window that it was nighttime. Her first night here? She couldn’t be sure. She felt as if she’d been here for days.

Sitting up, she felt sick to her stomach. She had awakened with a heart-pounding fear whenever she opened her eyes that this wasn’t just a bad dream, that this was real and that she would never be found.

Why was she here? What did the man want? When was this going to be over? She tried to calm the frightening thoughts, reminding herself that so far, she hadn’t been asked to do anything. He’d brought her food. Chicken nuggets, fries, coleslaw and juice.

He’d left the paper plate and the plastic spoon she’d used. No forks. Not even a plastic knife. Too dangerous? But everything had been gone when she opened her eyes again—except for another bottle of juice.

She worried that he might be fattening her up like they did the pigs on the ranch. She knew what happened when they were fat enough. She couldn’t imagine that she would taste good. Probably tough, so chewy that he’d have to spit her back out.

What bothered her was that the man seemed to be waiting for something.

The last time he’d come back, she had braced herself for the worst, but he’d only returned to bring her a mat to sleep on and a couple of old blankets—and, as always, another juice. She couldn’t remember when that was. She’d been grateful for the extra blankets, but at the same time, she worried that it meant she would be staying here even longer.

“Thought you might like this.” He put down a paper plate with a piece of chocolate cake on it. “She made it for you.”

Holly Jo figured he was talking about the woman from the pickup, the one who’d called her over so he could grab her. It was hard to feel touched by her kindness. Still, she said, “Thank you,” remembering how her mother had taught her, before her mother had gotten so sick that she barely spoke.

Holly Jo had waited until he left again before she’d devoured the cake. It wasn’t as good as the cakes Elaine baked. But still, she ate every bite and drank most of her juice.

Later, she wished she hadn’t, because she started to feel strange and had to lie down on the mat and cover herself up to keep from shivering.

Now she lay feeling groggy as she wondered again what had pulled her out of the deep darkness of her sleep. Listening hard, she finally heard it. The murmur of voices. Moving to the door, she pressed her ear against the narrow gap between door and wall. Had someone found her?

Her heart began to pound with hope. But as she listened, she realized it was a man and a woman speaking. She couldn’t make out what was being said, but she recognized the man’s voice. One thing was clear. They were arguing.

She was surprised the man hadn’t come alone like he usually did. Even when she was half asleep, she would hear him walk up to the door and stand there as if listening. Then she would hear the key in the lock, and the door would swing open. He would stay behind the door as if afraid of her. He always seemed surprised to see her, especially when she was awake, as if he expected to find her dead.

They were arguing louder now, the man’s voice low, the woman’s growing shrill. “We need money! How will we live without it?” the woman cried.

Money? Then Holly Jo heard the wordsransom demand.

That was the first time she’d realized that she might have been kidnapped for money. She and her mother had always been poor. Maybe not poor exactly, but broke. HH was rich.

Had these two taken her to demand money from him? Holly Jo instantly felt panicky. Would Holden pay? She thought of all the trouble she’d given him from the first day he’d brought her to the ranch. What if he didn’t give them what they asked for?

She felt tears burn her eyes. But even if Holden didn’t want to pay, she told herself that Cooper and Pickett would make him. Except Pickett was on his honeymoon with Oakley. For sure, Elaine would make HH pay the ransom, she told herself. Not Treyton, though. He would argue that the kidnappers should keep her. But Duffy wouldn’t let his father do that. The pain in her chest began to ease. HH would pay to get her back, even as bad as she’d been.

She promised herself that if she got to go back to McKenna Ranch, she’d be good. She wouldn’t cause trouble. She’d eat beef for the rest of her life if she could just go home.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THESHERIFFSHOULDN’Thave been surprised when Birdie Malone and Brand Stafford tracked him down. He’d been working the kidnapping case without food or rest and wasn’t in the mood for whatever these two were up to.

“We need something of Holly Jo’s,” Birdie told him. “We’re going to take it to Lulabelle to see if she can help.”

He groaned. “I don’t have time for this.” He started to walk away.

“I know you used some clothing items of hers with the dogs at the school bus stop.” He didn’t need to be reminded that nothing had come of that. “Surely we could have one item of hers—”

“You need to let law enforcement do its job and stay out of this. Anyway, I already talked to Lulabelle. She wasn’t any help.”

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