Wife Most Wanted Read online

  Dana laughed and shook her head. “You’re cuckoo.”

  “It helps in my line of work. Come on. Let’s go to the desk and get you an official library card.”

  As they started across the room, a man came out of the stacks and headed in their direction. Kurt stopped walking, and Dana halted next to him. When the man arrived in front of them, he extended his hand to Kurt.

  “J.D.,” Kurt said, shaking his hand.

  “Kurt,” J.D. said. He looked at Dana. “Ah, the heroine of the robbery fiasco. Have you ever considered playing professional baseball, Ms. Bailey? You’ve got a fine pitching arm there.”

  Dana smiled. “I hardly remember throwing that soda can. You’re the man who came into the store behind Kurt, aren’t you? The one who helped Clem?”

  “Yes, ma’am. J. D. Cade, at your service.”

  What was this? Kurt thought crossly. Dana and J.D. were smiling at each other like two people in a toothpaste commercial. Just turning on the charm. Oozing politeness. Well, enough of this malarkey.

  “What brings you into town, J.D.?” Kurt said.

  “A couple of things,” J.D. said, directing his attention to Kurt again. “One is Hip Hop meat loaf. I like to wait until it’s not so crowded over there, so I was doing the second thing on my list.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Kurt said.

  “I was researching Native American ceremonies, symbols, what have you. I thought I might discover what message was being delivered by those chickens I found on the fence. I’m not saying it was someone from the res who did it, but it could have been made to appear that it was.”

  “Good thinking,” Kurt said. “Judd told me about the chickens. Did you find anything in here that would give us a clue as to what those birds meant?”

  “Nope.” J.D. shook his head. “Not a thing.”

  “Chickens?” Dana said.

  “Dead chickens were hung on a fence out at the Kincaid ranch,” J.D. said. “It’s just one more in a long list of weird doings out there. Rumors are running wild that the ranch is haunted by ghosts. We had another hand quit today because of the chickens. Someone is really stirring up a lot of trouble.”

  “For heaven’s sake,” Dana said, “why? Does this Kincaid person who owns the ranch have enemies who would do these types of things?”

  “No, and that only adds to the mystery of why this is being done,” J.D. said. “The owner is a three-year-old sweetheart named Jennifer. The spread is held in trust for her by her adoptive father, Sterling McCallum.”

  “This doesn’t make any sense,” Dana said.

  “Tell me about it,” Kurt said. “Try being on the police force that’s attempting to get to the bottom of it. Judd was fuming about those chickens. The sheriff is very angry and very frustrated.”

  “So are those of us on the ranch.” J.D. frowned. “What’s left of us, that is. We’re constantly shorthanded because the drifters coming through who we hire get scared off by the stuff that’s happening.” He paused. “Well, I’d best be on my way, or there won’t be any meat loaf left for dinner.”

  “It was delicious,” Dana said.

  “Good evening to you,” J.D. said, touching the tips of his fingers to the edge of his Stetson. “Kurt,” he added with a nod.

  “Good night,” Dana said.

  “See ya, J.D.,” Kurt said.

  Dana turned slightly and watched until J.D. had gone out the door of the library. When she looked at Kurt again, he was glowering.

  “Now what is the matter?” she said.

  “I was just wondering if you got enough of an eyeful of J. D. Cade’s butt.”

  “I was not looking at his…his posterior. But if I had been, what business would it be of yours? I’m perfectly free to scrutinize anyone’s butt, to crudely quote you, that I darn well please. If it wasn’t so ridiculous, I’d say you sound jealous.”

  Dana marched off in the direction of the counter.

  “The very idea,” she muttered. “Absolutely ridiculous.”

  No joke, Kurt thought, following Dana at a much slower pace. Ridiculous didn’t even begin to describe his behavior. But he’d felt it, all right, the bite from the green-eyed monster, when Dana and J.D. were doing their toothpaste-commercial routine, then again when Dana stared at J.D. while he was leaving the library.

  What was the matter with him? Kurt fumed. Dana wasn’t his lady, his woman, or any other possessive label that he might come up with.

  No, she wasn’t his, nor would he want her to be. She was just passing through town, a blip on the screen, a here-today-gone-tomorrow person.

  And she still refused to tell him where she was going and why.

  He didn’t need a woman in his life who had secrets. He didn’t need or want any woman muddling up his existence again. He’d learned his lesson the hard way, and he was steering clear of that arena, thank you very much.

  So what if he was continually reliving the kisses he’d shared with Dana, the feel of her luscious body nestled against him? It didn’t mean a thing, other than that he was a normal, healthy man.

  It was perfectly understandable that Dana Bailey was turning him inside out, causing hot, coiled desire to throb low in his body when he was close to her. She was a lovely woman, who was intelligent, feisty and fun and evoked emotions in him of protectiveness and…well, yeah, possessiveness.

  But that made sense, because Dana was caught up in the mess that had taken place at the convenience store. She was all alone in a strange town, cooped up in a dreary motel room. There were times when she appeared so tired, so tense, so vulnerable.

  When he least expected it, Dana looked like someone who needed a hug.

  No doubt about it, Kurt thought, shaking his head. Dana was driving him out of his ever-lovin’ mind. He would definitely be as relieved as she would be when the trial was over and she would leave Whitehorn.

  Just go. Disappear. Forever. Good. Right?

  Kurt reached the desk and Dana turned to smile at him.

  “I have a library card,” she said. “I’m officially official. Come on, Kurt, you can help me pick out some yummy books. This is going to be fun.”

  Kurt smiled in spite of himself as they went into the stacks where fiction was shelved.

  Yes, sir, he thought, Dana was definitely driving him crazy.

  Jessica Larson McCallum entered the large living room where her husband, Sterling, sat talking with their attorney, Wendell Hargrove.

  In his early sixties, Wendell was still an extremely handsome man. Tall and trim, he had thick, wavy white hair. His demeanor was always dignified and stately, resulting in an unspoken demand for respect, which he invariably received. There were rumors in the wind that Wendell was going to run for office. Other gossips insisted he would soon be appointed a judge.

  Sterling stopped speaking as Jessica crossed the room. He extended his hand to her, and she sat down next to him on the sofa, with their fingers entwined.

  “Is Jennifer asleep?” Sterling said.

  Jessica frowned. “Yes, she didn’t even stay awake long enough to hear the end of the story I was reading to her. She usually tries to con me into reading a second story. I hope she isn’t coming down with something.”

  “She’s a busy bee,” Sterling said, chuckling. “She probably just wore herself out today.”

  “I remember when my three daughters were small,” Wendell said. “They were bundles of energy, but little ones seem to know when they need to wind down and get some catch-up rest. I wouldn’t be concerned about Jennifer falling asleep earlier than usual, Jessica.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, Wendell,” Jessica said. “She’ll probably pop up at dawn tomorrow, ready to play. I hope to see rosy cheeks in the morning, too. She was awfully pale tonight.” She paused. “Well, I’ve certainly interrupted whatever you gentlemen were discussing.”

  “You’re a lovely distraction from the subject matter, my dear,” Wendell said.

  “I’ll second that,” Sterling said, giv
ing Jessica’s hand a loving squeeze.

  “Unfortunately,” Wendell said, “there has been another incident at the ranch, Jessica. That new hand, J. D. Cade, found dead chickens tied to a fence in very odd but exacting order.”

  “Oh, dear,” Jessica said, sighing. “Who is doing this, and why? I just don’t understand what someone hopes to gain by causing such unrest at the ranch. Rand Harding is having a difficult time keeping men on the payroll because of these bizarre happenings.”

  “That’s sadly true,” Wendell said. “Another hand was frightened off today. He said he wasn’t working on a spread that was haunted.”

  “Judd Hensley still doesn’t have a clue as to who is behind this,” Sterling said.

  “No, he doesn’t.” Wendell shook his head. “Sterling, I’ve given this situation a great deal of thought. As your attorney, I’m advising you to close down the ranch until we can get to the bottom of this trouble. As it presently stands, the operation is becoming a financial drain, which isn’t in Jennifer’s best interests.”

  Sterling released Jessica’s hand and got to his feet. He crossed the room and stared into the leaping flames of the fire in the huge fireplace. Several long, silent minutes passed, and then he turned to look at Wendell.

  “No,” Sterling said. “That’s probably what whoever is behind this wants me to do. No, Wendell, I won’t knuckle under to this nonsense. The ranch will continue to operate, business as usual.”

  “I truly believe you’re making a mistake, Sterling,” Wendell said.

  “I appreciate your concern,” Sterling said, “but my mind is made up.”

  “And that, as they say,” Jessica said, smiling, “is that. You ought to recognize that stubborn set to Sterling’s jaw that indicates that a subject is closed, Wendell. So! Who is ready for some homemade apple pie?”

  Six

  The next afternoon, Judd Hensley called Kurt into the sheriff’s office and informed him that he should pack a suitcase and head for Billings.

  “You’ll be representing our department at the trial of those two guys who were pulling the roofing scam,” Judd said. “The prosecution is bringing in cops from quite a few towns where people were ripped off. Here’s a file with the statements, photographs, what have you, that you’ll present as evidence.”

  “How long will I be stuck down there?” Kurt said, frowning. “Even more, why me? I wasn’t even in Whitehorn when those yo-yos came through.”

  “No telling when they’ll call you to testify. They want you to be in court every day, though, so you’ll be available. As for why you?” Judd smiled. “Because you’re low man on the totem pole around here, the last one to go on the payroll. This assignment is boredom in its purest form. I’m sure not going to get a volunteer for the job.”

  “Cripe,” Kurt said, accepting the file. He paused, then snapped his fingers. “I can’t go, Judd. I’m responsible for feeding a whole slew of cats at my place. Think about it. They’ll be starving, crying for food, hungry and confused because I deserted them. I have to stay in Whitehorn to care for those poor homeless animals.”

  Judd chuckled. “Nice try, Noble, but put a cork in it. You’re wasting your breath.”

  “Hell. I suppose I have to wear a tie in the courtroom, too.”

  “Yep.”

  “You have no heart, Hensley,” Kurt said. “You’re like that character in The Wizard of Oz. No heart.”

  “Goodbye, Kurt.”

  “Cripe.”

  Ten minutes later, Kurt was driving toward the Whitehorn Motel.

  He’d recruit Dana, he decided, to feed the dumb cats. Heaven knew she had plenty of free time on her hands. She could break up her day of having her nose poked in a book by driving out to his place and tending to the furry moochers on his porch.

  Books, he thought. The library. Last night. For some strange reason, helping Dana choose a selection of novels had been fun, just as she’d said it would be.

  He and Dana had laughed so loud at one point, when she delivered a dramatic reading of the back blurb on a book, he was certain they were going to be tossed right out of the building.

  Dana had ended up with six books in a wide variety of reading material. She had everything from mysteries to historical romances to a biography of Eleanor Roosevelt. Interesting choices. But then, Dana Bailey was a very interesting woman.

  Their lighthearted mood had prevailed while he drove her back to the motel, Kurt mused. Then, before he knew what hit him, Dana had thanked him for a lovely evening, zipped into her room and left him standing outside, staring at the door like an imbecile.

  Well, what had he expected her to do? he asked himself. Invite him in for a nightcap? Dana had been very smart to leave him on the sidewalk. The attraction between them, the sensual pull, the simmering desire, was always there, just below the surface. The two of them alone in a room where the main piece of furniture was a bed was dangerous, just asking for trouble.

  Yes, Dana had done the right thing by rushing into the room…alone. Her actions, however, had changed his up mood into a downer, causing him to grumble under his breath all the way home.

  Lord, that didn’t make sense. He didn’t want any part of the emotional complications that would arise if he and Dana made love. He would have refused an invitation to enter her room last night, even if she’d issued one.

  He had a sneaky suspicion that he’d been grumpy as a bear because Dana had called the shots instead of him, even though she’d done exactly the right thing. Macho crap sure was a pain in the butt at times.

  Kurt parked next to Dana’s car in the motel lot, and moments later knocked on her door. She answered the summons quickly, with a book in one hand.

  “Hello, Kurt,” she said, smiling. “You’re a nice surprise. Come in.”

  Come in? Kurt thought. Last night she’d closed the door in his face. Today he was being invited in. Female rationale was a pain in the butt at times, too.

  Kurt entered the room, and Dana closed the door behind him.

  “Do you have news of a trial date?” Dana said.

  “Yes, but not the trial you’re concerned about,” he said. “Judd will contact you if there’s information you should know. The public defender is dragging his feet a bit, with the hope that Clem will come out of the coma and it’s apparent that he’ll recover.”

  “Can he delay for something like that?”

  “Not for long, but Clem’s condition will have a tremendous impact on the sentence the perp will get.”

  “Yes, I suppose it would.” Dana sighed. “So here I sit.”

  “Well,” Kurt said, smiling, “at least you’ve got a stack of books to read. There are a lot of people who would be envious of the fact that you can spend your days curled up with a good book.”

  “It gets very old, very fast.”

  “Yes,” Kurt said, nodding, “I’m sure it does.” He paused. “Dana, I have a favor to ask of you. Do you remember my telling you about the cats who hang around at my place?”

  “Yes. Hearing you talk about them made me miss Lucy and Ethel.”

  “Who?”

  “My two. They’re spoiled rotten, and I adore them. My friend Todd is feeding them, but I doubt if he’s staying around to play with them, poor babies.”

  My friend Todd? Kurt mentally repeated. How good a friend, what kind of a friend, was her buddy Todd? Damn it, Noble, forget it. He really didn’t care one way or another about some jerk named Todd who was Dana’s friend. Todd. What a wimpy name. The guy probably had his nails manicured once a week.

  “Kurt?” Dana said. “You were saying something about a favor?”

  “Oh, yeah. Listen, I have to go to Billings to testify at a trial. I’m not certain how long I’ll be gone. I’m stuck there until they call me to the witness stand.”

  “Do tell,” Dana said dryly. “Well, it certainly serves you right, considering that’s exactly what you’re doing to me.”

  “I figured you’d get in your licks on that one. So
, okay, we’re even. Tit for tat. I was wondering if you’d feed the cats at my place while I’m gone?”

  “Oh. Well, sure, I could do that.”

  “I’ll draw you a map of how to get to the house, although it’s a straight shot out of town. There’s a bunch of cat food in the kitchen. Feed the beasts once a day on the front porch. Don’t let even one of them sneak inside the house.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Hey, I really appreciate this.”

  “No problem. I’ll need a key to your house.”

  “The door isn’t locked. It never has been, for as long as I can remember.”

  “Doesn’t that go against your training as a police officer?”

  “I was a resident of Whitehorn for more years than I’ve been a cop.”

  Dana nodded. “That makes sense, I guess.” She paused. “I’m looking forward to tending to the cats. It will make me feel productive for a while each day. Thank you for…well, for trusting me to roam around in your home, Kurt.” She looked directly into his eyes. “You do, don’t you? Trust me?”

  Dana Bailey didn’t play fair, Kurt thought. Those enormous blue eyes of hers could melt ice on the coldest Montana day.

  He knew he had niggling doubts about Dana because of her reluctance to explain why she was on the road, where she was going. Warning bells went off in his head whenever she skittered around answering questions about the purpose and destination of her off-the-main-route trip.

  But when he was this close to her, gazing into those incredible eyes, the doubts were overshadowed by a haze of desire that instantly consumed him.

  “Yes,” Kurt heard himself say, “I do trust you, Dana Bailey.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “That means a great deal to me right now, because… Well, it just does.”

  Kurt frowned slightly.

  His trust in her meant a great deal right now? his mind echoed. Because…because why? What was Dana trying to tell him? Were there people who didn’t trust her right now? Was she in some kind of trouble? Lord, was she in some sort of danger?

  He’d been concentrating on the question of where Dana was going. Should he have been focused on the possibility that she was running away from someone in Chicago?