Hero's Return. B.J. Daniels
could change from sunny and warm to snowing and threatening in a matter of hours this time of year.
He breathed in the scent of pines and was transported back to the summer before his senior year. It had been mind-blowing sneaking off to be with Madeline, keeping the amazing secret, captivated by her body and his new experience with sex. His emotions had been all over the place.
Even when she’d told him she was pregnant, he’d been ready to marry her and run away with her. He realized how foolish that had been. But he had been on a high like none other. He would have done anything for her. Still, a part of him wanted to have been the hero that night.
What if he had jumped into the creek in time to save her that night? Or talked her out of jumping... He reminded himself that she’d lied. She hadn’t been scared of her father and brother that night. So why take the chance?
Money. And whoever was waiting for her downstream.
The path he’d taken broke out of the trees at the edge of the creek. He could hear the babble of the water over the smooth stones. The water would run clear and low for a few more weeks. He figured it would have been a fisherman who’d found her skeletal remains. He used to spend hours on this creek fishing with his father and siblings.
Ahead, he spotted the bridge and stopped for a moment, reliving that night. The moon had been full. Was that why she’d picked that particular night? He’d seen her in the moonlight standing in the middle of the bridge as he walked down the creek toward her—and she would have been able to see him.
Climbing up the steps to the raised footbridge, he stopped a few yards in—just as he had that night. The scene was so vivid. The moonlight filtering through the thick boughs of the trees. The smell of the creek and the lush brush filled the air. And the dark water, shadowed by the tree limbs hanging over it.
Madeline had stood on the bridge, clutching the bundle in her arms to her chest. He could almost hear her voice, raised in anger. Her telling him that he’d let her down. He’d ruined her life. Ruined not just her life, but their son’s, as well.
He took a step forward and then another, just as he had that night. He’d been so sure that he could reach her, that he could change her mind, that their love for each other could overcome anything.
Fool. Hadn’t she heard how his heart was breaking? How could she have gone ahead with her plan knowing how much he’d loved her?
As he reached the middle of the bridge, he stopped to look down. He still couldn’t believe she’d jumped into the fast current that night. There hadn’t been a railing on the footbridge back then. He could see her quickly stepping to the edge as he screamed for her to stop.
Tucker felt ice fill his belly at the memory. He could hear the roar of the water, the roar of his cry. He could see her hesitate for just an instant before she disappeared over the side.
He’d rushed forward in time to see her head go under in the swift current. It was the last time he saw her. He’d jumped in, but she was gone and so was whatever she’d been holding. The doll he’d gotten in the mail? If it was her remains that had been found, then she’d never had a child. Another lie. Another gut-wrenching lie.
Looking downstream he could see yellow crime scene tape caught on a tree limb out in the middle of the creek next to a deep hole where he used to fish. The tape flapped in the wind as if mocking him. This nightmare wasn’t over. Whoever had sent him the package with the weatherworn doll knew something. What were they trying to tell him?
He’d been so lost in thought that he hadn’t seen the figure come out of the trees until he heard the loud snap of a twig. He stared downstream as a young woman made her way to the edge of the creek. Dressed in jeans, sneakers and a jean jacket, she wore a baseball cap that hid her hair. She looked out at the flickering yellow crime scene tape for a moment, before making her way to a spot where it was obvious that the deputies had dug up what remains had still been buried. The woman stepped under the crime scene tape that hadn’t blown away. She definitely didn’t look like a cop.
But then what was she doing there? Morbid curiosity or... To his shock, she suddenly hugged herself, bending over as if in pain. He realized that she was crying. Huge sobbing wails carried on the breeze, making the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up.
What the hell? Had she known Madeline? He felt a chill run the length of his spine. A friend? Or the person who’d buried her there? Was it possible he was looking at the person Madeline had been working with?
She must have sensed him, because she turned toward the bridge. Seeing him standing there, she hurriedly wiped her tears and started to leave, but not before she did something that shocked him even more.
The woman spit on what had been Madeline’s grave.
TUCKER WAS TOO stunned to move for a moment. What had he just seen? One thing was certain. The young woman who’d just spit on Madeline’s grave knew her!
His mind whirled. Did that mean she knew who she really was? Because she had helped her con Tucker? Or because she had reason to hate her?
As the woman disappeared into the pines, he finally shook himself out of his shock and got his feet moving. He had to talk to this woman. If she knew something...
The footbridge was old, the boards uneven and slippery this morning with dew. Still, he ran after her, slipping and almost falling in his cowboy boots. He couldn’t believe what he’d seen and heard. The sobbing. The pain he’d witnessed. And then...the hatred. It made no sense.
He’d only reached the pines when he heard a vehicle’s engine start up farther away from the creek. Racing up the trail, he realized that the woman must have run back to her vehicle. Otherwise, he would have been able to catch her before she drove away.
By the time he cleared the pines, she had driven almost to the road into town. He was too far away to get all of the license plate numbers on the vehicle she was driving. But it was definitely a Montana tag and the SUV was an expensive pearl-white one. If he saw it again...
He turned and ran back toward the ranch, mind racing. All those years ago, he hadn’t been able to learn who Madeline really was. She’d lied about so much. This was the first real lead he had on her. The irony of it was that her death was his first lead.
He was finally going to learn the truth about all of it, including who had been waiting for her downstream that night.
All he had to do was find another mystery woman, this one driving an expensive SUV.
* * *
THE SHERIFF GOT the call just before heading home for lunch. Maggie was making his favorite—barbecued short ribs. He didn’t want to be late. Also, he didn’t like to spend any more time than he had to away from his wife. As far as he was concerned, the honeymoon would never be over.
But it was also Tuck’s first night home. He was thinking he should get the family all together. Everyone would want to see Tuck. And probably want to know everything. Poor Tucker. His sister especially would demand answers and Lillie could be relentless. It was one reason he hadn’t told the rest of the family. Given the circumstances, he could tell Tucker needed time. His brother also needed to do this on his own—at his own speed.
Flint saw that it was the coroner calling and picked up. “I have a possible identification on your Jane Doe,” Sonny said. “Madeline Dunn, formerly of Clawson Creek, Montana.”
Madeline Dunn? “Possible? How did you come up with a name so quickly?”
“Dental records. I queried the dentists in the largest town within about one hundred miles of Gilt Edge, faxed them the X-rays and got a hit the first try. Great Falls, Montana, 106 miles away.” He listened while the coroner thumbed through some paperwork. “An eighteen-year-old had an abscessed tooth pulled at the dentist there. But what made him remember the girl and her mouth