Page 215 of The Billion Heirs Boxed Set
“Yes. He may have evidence that is relative to a case I’m working on. He’s the father of the victim, Joseph Hopkins.”
“Hopkins is on work duty right now in the laundry. And visiting hours are on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons.”
“I understand, but I’m not visiting. I’m not his girlfriend, I’m the FBI. I can speak to him whenever I want.” I don’t have time for a delay. I’m here and I’m going to talk to the guy. “I’m on a tight schedule. I’m sure the laundry facility can get along without Mr. Hopkins for a few moments. This is official FBI business.”
Fitzpatrick’s jaw goes rigid. “Let me check with the warden.”
Red tape galore. I’m used to it. State-run prisons hate giving Feds any leeway at all. So I’ll jump through their hoops. I’ll do what I have to do to get this job done so I can get out of Montana and away from Chance Bridger—this time for good.
Yeah, that’s all I’ve been thinking about since I left him at the restaurant the night before. Getting the hell out of Bayfield. It may be good for the case having me here, knowing all the players involved, but it wasn’t good for me. I ’haven’t been this twisted up since… since I got Chance’s letter.
I’d thought I’d buried it all pretty well. Boy, I was fucking wrong.
Fitzpatrick walks out of earshot, his cell phone glued to his ear. He and the warden will exchange smack talk about the Feds, and then he’ll come back to me and begrudgingly let me speak to the prisoner of my choice.
I know the drill.
Right on schedule, Fitzpatrick returns in about five minutes. “Follow me.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
A few moments later, I’m sitting in the visiting area behind a wall of glass.
And I wait…
8
CHANCE
I didn’t sleep for shit. Dreams of Avery Marsh plagued me all night.
The letter.
What fucking letter was she talking about?
I never wrote her any letter. The day after we made love, she and her mother, Linda, disappeared, never to be heard from again.
Scuttlebutt in town was that Linda inherited some dough from a long lost aunt, and she packed Avery up and left.
But Avery had just turned eighteen. She could have stayed. I’d have seen that she was taken care of. She loved me.
Or so I thought.
None of it made any sense, and I finished my senior year of high school in a numb-ass state and then, against my father’s strict orders, skipped college and began to work fulltime on the ranch doing as much grunt work as I could find. Something about manual labor helped my headspace, and I worked harder than any of the hands, to the point where I earned their total respect. No longer was I the owner’s rich spoiled brat. I was one of them.
I still am. That’s why I make Austin and Miles do shit like mend fences and fix tractors, which Miles is really good at, given his knowledge of mechanics. Sure, we could let the hands do it all, but if I have to share my inheritance with two men I never knew existed, they’re going to fucking earn it.
It was how I steered clear of my father too. He spent his time at the office, making deals, doing shit I knew nothing about. Looking back, maybe I should’ve kept tabs on what he was up to. We wouldn’t be in this clusterfuck now. Then again, if I’d known, I’d probably be headed to jail right now.
I pour myself a cup of coffee when Miles walks into the kitchen.
“Hey, stranger,” he says. “Where’d you take off to last night?”
I suppose I owe my brother an explanation for disappearing on them. “I walked around town for a while, went into the pool hall, and then hitched a ride home with one of the hands.”
“Ah…” Miles pours some coffee for himself. “I’ve enjoyed the extra sleep, especially with Sadie in my bed, but that’s a few days in a row now that you haven’t roused Austin and me out of bed at the butt crack of dawn. Surely this woman isn’t making you swear off work.”
“Hell, no.” I set my coffee down and stretch my arms above my head. “She’s what made me swear on work fifteen years ago. Not that my father didn’t make me earn my keep around here. But after Avery took off, I went all in. There’s nothing I don’t know how to do around here.”
