Lucky Shot. B.J. Daniels
pretty well covered it, while at the same time confirming what he already knew. The photo was of Sarah Hamilton.
“I guess I don’t have to ask you if the woman in the photo is your mother,” he said as he put his camera away.
“Do you want me to call the police?” the shop owner asked as she stood wringing her hands.
“No, this man is leaving,” Kat said, glaring poison darts at him. She looked shaken. Clearly, he’d caught her flat-footed with the photo.
“For what it’s worth, I really do like your photos.” With that, he left. She hurled insults after him. Not that he didn’t deserve them.
He was just doing his job. He doubted Kat Hamilton had ever had a real job. But even though he could and would defend his to the death, he was always sorry when innocent people got hurt.
It was debatable how innocent Sarah Hamilton was at this point, though. Unfortunately, her daughters would pay the price for her notoriety.
* * *
“WHAT DO YOU mean you’re finished with the job?” Angelina Broadwater Hamilton demanded of the private investigator after taking a seat across from him. She had flown in this morning after he’d told her he had to see her. “What did you find out? I know Sarah Johnson Hamilton is hiding something. Did you find out what it is or not?”
“I hit a dead end.”
The fifty-something Mike “Moose” McCallahan was tall and strapping with a full head of blond hair. Right now, though, the big, tough-looking man was avoiding her gaze.
“Why are you lying to me?” she asked calmly. “Did my husband buy you off?”
He quit fiddling with the papers on his desk to look up at her. “No.”
“If you’re worried because he’s going to be the next president—”
“It’s not that.” He took a breath and let it out slowly. “I can tell you this. Your husband’s former...wife, Sarah Johnson Hamilton, was involved with some...undesirables. One of them paid me a visit.”
She studied him. “He roughed you up? Not much as far as I can tell, because you look fine.”
Moose chuckled at that. “Look, I’ve dealt with a lot of scary people in my time.” He met her gaze. “You need to drop this.”
Angelina let out a bark of a laugh. “Maybe this...undesirable scared you, but I don’t scare that easily. Tell me what you found out.”
“Nothing, that’s the problem. I didn’t find out anything, but apparently some friends of your husband’s—”
“Sarah. Her name is Sarah. She is no longer my husband’s anything, all right?”
“Fine. Sarah Johnson Hamilton has some friends who are very protective of her.”
“From which past? The one before my husband met her or during the twenty-two years he believed she was dead?”
“I have no idea, and, quite frankly, I don’t care. Whatever your husband’s—Sarah might be hiding, it isn’t worth it to me to find out.”
“Well, it is to me,” Angelina snapped. She couldn’t believe this man had been scared off so easily. Clearly, she’d hired the wrong person for this job. “Did this undesirable threaten you? Surely, it wasn’t the first time someone wanted to—”
“Chop me up into little pieces and feed me to a pit bull? No, not the first time. Just the first time the person threatening me was more frightening than being chopped up and fed to a pit bull.”
She studied him, realizing he had to know who the man was, what Sarah had been involved in. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be so afraid. “I paid you an exorbitant amount of money to—”
“Here.” He shoved a check across the desk at her. “All of your money back.”
Angelina stared at him, finally seeing just how terrified Moose was. She wanted to pummel the coward with the first thing she could reach, but she saw that it would do no good.
“Fine,” she said, snatching up the check as she rose to her feet. “I’ll hire someone with more...guts.”
“Good luck with that,” he said as he stood. “Before you leave, wouldn’t you like the message Sarah’s friend left for you?”
She had already started for the door but now turned. “By all means.”
“He said he’d destroy your husband...after he killed you.”
She’d expected a threat, but the simplicity of this one definitely hit a nerve. Had she ever doubted that Sarah would do anything to get Buckmaster back?
Straightening her back so Moose didn’t see the tremor of fear that pulsed through her, she walked back to the private investigator’s desk. “Who are these...friends of Sarah’s? Organized criminals? Gang members? Terrorists?”
Moose clamped his jaws shut and shook his head.
“But you believe they’re capable of these threats.”
It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway.
“So Sarah does have something to hide, just as I suspected.”
“Maybe they’re just protective...friends. But if I were you, I’d drop this. You don’t want to make men like them your enemies, let alone your husband’s.”
“Men? You said only one paid you a visit.”
Again he gave her his mum look.
“I’m going to find out the truth. I’ll hire someone who won’t be scared off as easily as you.”
He shook his head almost sadly. “You hire another PI and you’ll only get him killed—and start a shit storm that is going to rain down on not only you but also your husband and his daughters. You sure it’s worth it just to get some dirt on your husband’s former wife?”
* * *
MAX HAD PLANNED to drive back to Big Timber. But as he crossed Main Street, he realized that he was starving. His productiveness had left him ready to call it a day. Stopping at a hotel with a restaurant on the lower level, he decided he’d stay in Bozeman for the night. He was about to leave his camera bag and laptop in his pickup, but changed his mind.
He knew he was being paranoid, but just the thought of someone breaking in to his pickup, and stealing them and the photos on them, made him take the equipment with him. Earlier at Big Timber Java, he’d put the photos on a thumb drive and stuck it in his pocket. Still, he didn’t want to take any chances.
He’d just sat down in the restaurant after getting a room, when the calls began coming in. He let them go to voice mail. He’d go through them in his room later. If he seemed too anxious, it would make him look as if he didn’t have the goods. He’d just ordered the restaurant’s largest T-bone steak with the trimmings when he saw a pretty brunette sitting alone at a table, perusing a menu.
She looked around as if a little lost. They made eye contact. She smiled, then put down her menu and got up to walk over to him. “I know this is going to sound forward...” She bit her lower lip as if screwing up her courage. “I hate eating alone and I’ve had this amazing day.” She stopped. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you’d prefer—”
“Have a seat. I’ve had a pretty amazing day myself.”
All her nervousness seemed to evaporate. “Thank you. I’ve never done anything like that before. I’m not sure what came over me,” she said as she took a seat across from him. “It’s just that I noticed you were alone and I’m alone...”
The woman looked to be a few years younger than his thirty-five years. After the day he’d had, he was glad to have company to celebrate with him.
“Max