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  Praise for the novels of B.J. Daniels

  “A great start to another wonderful series by a standout author of western intrigue and suspense.”

  —Fresh Fiction on Out of the Storm

  “Daniels is a perennial favorite, and I might go as far as to label her the cowboy whisperer.”

  —BookPage

  “Super read by an excellent writer. Recommended!”

  —Linda Lael Miller, #1 New York Times bestselling author, on Renegade’s Pride

  “At the Crossroads is a beauty of a crime novel that keeps you turning page after page just to see where this is all leading. And trust me. You will not be disappointed... This is probably one of this author’s best.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “Readers are left guessing throughout the story, which wraps up with a surprising yet believable series of events and an emotionally satisfying ending that whets appetites for the next book.”

  —Publishers Weekly on Stroke of Luck

  “Before Buckhorn is a fabulous addition to an already amazing series.”

  —Fresh Fiction on Before Buckhorn

  Books by B.J. Daniels

  Buckhorn, Montana

  Out of the Storm

  From the Shadows

  At the Crossroads

  Before Buckhorn

  Before Memories Fade

  Under a Killer Moon

  Harlequin Intrigue

  A Colt Brothers Investigation

  Murder Gone Cold

  Sticking to Her Guns

  For a complete list of books by B.J. Daniels, please visit www.bjdaniels.com.

  B.J. Daniels

  NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR

  Under a

  KILLER MOON

  Table of Contents

  Under a Killer Moon by B.J. Daniels

  Before Memories Fade by B.J. Daniels

  Many thanks to my longtime editor Denise Zaza

  who is always there when I need her.

  Under a Killer Moon

  B.J. Daniels

  Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  PROLOGUE

  JENNIFER “JEN” MULLEN used the dull children’s scissors to cut out the article from the Billings Gazette about the 125th birthday celebration of her hometown. She’d started keeping a scrapbook of articles about Buckhorn after being committed to the state psych ward for the criminally insane.

  She was told that she’d killed at least three men. If that were true, then the men had it coming. Her doctor said that wasn’t a good excuse. She told him that she figured there were more men just asking for it as well. He told her they would discuss that during her next session.

  Jennifer had smiled and thanked him. Dr. Moss was another reason she needed to get out of this place. He thought he could “fix” her like she was a broken doll. Even if she did need fixing, she didn’t think it was possible. But thanks anyway, Doc.

  The main reason she had to get out of here was that she’d left a few things undone in Buckhorn. People back there may have forgotten about her, but she hadn’t forgotten about them.

  Like her aunt Vivian Mullen. Was she worried about her favorite niece being in a place like this? There was no reason for concern. Most everyone here left her alone, which made her laugh. They all seemed a little afraid of her.

  Using the glue with the attendant watching to make sure she didn’t eat it, she pasted the article in her scrapbook. It gave her a sense of pride to see that her aunt was the organizer of the celebration, according to the article. That was so like Vi.

  She tried not to let it bother her that her aunt hadn’t come to visit. It wasn’t like she wanted anyone from Buckhorn to see her here. A place like this would scare them.

  She did, however, miss her best friend Shirley Langer and her cousin Tina Mullen, now Olson after marrying Lars. Tina always had such nice clothes and had been a good sport about letting her borrow them. The last time she saw her cousin, Tina had been so pregnant that she’d looked like she might pop. But that had been more than three years ago now.

  For the first six months of her incarceration, Jen hadn’t been allowed to have any phone calls from even a relative. That was so no one upset her, apparently. After the six months were over, the only person who’d taken her collect calls was Shirley. Her friend had left Buckhorn after getting her heart broken and was now working at a motel in Billings.

  “Didn’t I tell you to dump Lars Olson a long time ago?” Jen had said. “I always knew you could do better.”

  Shirley was the one who’d told her that her cousin Tina had given birth to a baby girl she’d named Chloe. Just recently, Shirley had told her, “Lars and Tina got married. They’re expecting another baby.”

  “What is it with my cousin and babies,” Jen had said, unable to hide her jealousy. She was missing so much here. She might have wanted a baby someday. But she’d never had any luck with men—unlike Tina. Maybe if she’d been born a redhead like her cousin... “Are you still blonde?” Shirley had told her that she’d gotten her hair cut short and gone blonde. “Do you have more fun?”

  “You’re not missing anything, trust me,” her friend had said. They’d run out of things to say even before their time on the phone was up.

  Jen finished gluing the last of the articles about Buckhorn’s birthday into her scrapbook. The attendant took the scissors and paste, probably afraid of what she’d do with them if left to her own devices.

  She reread the celebration article before the attendant remembered to come back to take her scrapbook for safekeeping. Jen figured Buckhorn’s birthday party would draw a lot of people she knew with the carnival and the dance. There were some men she wouldn’t mind seeing again. She thought of Marshal Leroy Baggins, the man who’d arrested her for the murders. Good-looking, but a little uptight. Not really her type. Still, she wouldn’t mind seeing him again as long as he wasn’t thinking he was going to haul her back here.

  No, once she escaped from this place she wouldn’t be returning, one way or the other. As she pretended to read the article yet again, she watched the comings and goings in the large communal room. She’d been so well-behaved that they let her hang out in the main lounge without an attendant standing over her. She’d been watching the way things worked around here for months as she’d planned her escape. Until now, she hadn’t had a definite plan.

  But thanks to her aunt Vi, she had a date and a destination. The 125th birthday celebration in Buckhorn was the perfect time to make her break and return home. She smiled as she thought of how people in her hometown would re
act if they knew that she’d be attending without guards or a straightjacket. There would be so much going on, she figured they wouldn’t see her unless she wanted them to.

  The attendant glanced in her direction, then came back to take her scrapbook. A moment later, a guard stuck his head in and motioned that it was time to return to her cell. In the shatterproof mirror on the wall, she caught her reflection as she rose and headed for the door. She’d changed during her time in here thanks to the drugs they’d been giving her and the hours she’d had for reflection—at least that’s what she let the doctor think. Dr. Moss liked the idea that he had been doing something to rehabilitate her.

  “You’re so young,” he’d said. “This isn’t the end of your story. We just need to get to the source of why you’ve done the things you have.”

  “Maybe I’m just evil.”

  He’d put on his serious face. “No. That’s not true. Something triggered this behavior. I suspect it’s something in your past. Once we know what that was...” He’d smiled and she’d smiled back at him, thinking he had no idea what he was talking about. “You’re doing so well. So we’ll keep digging, yes?” She’d nodded her agreement, even as she thought the man was a quack. But she liked making him happy because then he gave her more freedom.

  With the Buckhorn celebration coming up, Jen thought of her image she’d seen reflected in the mirror. The hair that she’d sawed off with the dull children’s scissors when she’d first arrived here had grown out. But it wouldn’t hurt to change her appearance even more after she left here. She wanted to look her best when she went home.

  It was all she could do not to break into a little dance. Look out Buckhorn. Surprise! I’m coming home.

  CHAPTER ONE

  IT WAS LATE by the time Marshal Leroy Baggins reached Buckhorn’s new fairgrounds. Parking his patrol SUV in the lot, he stepped out and stood for a moment enjoying the quiet darkness. The air smelled of pine and the nearby creek and campfires. The scents marked the end of summer and the end to the busiest time of year for a lawman in Montana. Things would have been winding down—if not for Buckhorn’s 125th birthday celebration.

  He cursed softly under his breath and tried to enjoy this moment of peace and quiet before the festivities began tomorrow. The mountains all around town rose to meet the clouds that moved restlessly past on the breeze. Buckhorn was already filling up for the celebration. By tomorrow night, there would be nothing peaceful about this once large stretch of pasture on the edge of town.

  The air would be heavy with the scents of cotton candy and corn dogs. Tinny carnival music would compete with the sounds of vendors hawking their wares and the shrieks of young and old on the noisy rides. The place was already busting at the seams. By tomorrow, traffic and parking would be a nightmare if even half the people Vi Mullen expected were to show up.

  With the tourist season almost over, Vi would have single-handedly turned this quiet, small town in the middle of nowhere into a circus.

  As he made a loop through the property, he could hear the murmur of voices and the crackle of campfires by the creek where the carnival crew and some of the vendors were camped. Deeper into the darkness, he passed still empty rows of temporary stalls constructed for retailers to sell everything from jewelry to homemade jams and jellies, wooden signs to antler lamps and paintings to pottery. Food trucks would soon be parked around the outside edge of the fairgrounds with the carnival rides and more booths in the middle. A bandstand and wooden floor had been erected at the back near the creek for nightly dances next to the beer garden. During the day, the raised dance floor would act as a stage, since he was sure Vi Mullen planned to make numerous appearances. The thought of her with a microphone made him shudder.

  Leroy shook his head, reminding himself that the celebration was only for four days. Four very long days that would stretch his small force to breaking. That was one reason he’d wanted to stop by tonight, to walk around the fairgrounds before the crowds and noise and trouble got there. Law enforcement could always expect some trouble at crowded events. Pickpockets, con artists and crooks. There would be fistfights, rambunctious teenaged boys doing reckless things, and wailing lost little kids who’d been separated from their parents. On top of that, there would be a full moon by the last night of the event.

  “It will be mayhem,” the marshal had told Vi, pleading with her to keep the event small. When he’d realized she had no intention of doing that, he’d told her she would have to hire some private security to assist his force, which was too small and already stretched too thin with so much county to cover as it was.

  “You worry too much, Marshal,” Vi had said, after she’d agreed to employ a private security team. “Everyone is going to have fun and talk about this for years to come.”

  “Fun,” he’d said under his breath. She had no idea what she could be getting the town in for.

  She’d tilted her head to eye him. Fifty-something with a cap of dark hair that could only come from a box, she was the matriarch of the town and she let everyone know it. “Don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud. You make me wonder if you were ever young.”

  Leroy had looked down at his boots, knowing he should be insulted since he was still young—not even forty yet. “I just know what goes on at these types of events and the kind of law enforcement it takes to keep everyone safe. Traffic and parking alone will be a nightmare, not to mention housing all these people you think are going to come. I’ve already alerted the state highway patrol and county game wardens that they might be needed if things get out of hand.”

  Vi had laughed, shaking her head as she did. “It’s no wonder you’re still single.”

  He’d wanted to argue, but what would have been the point. She was right. He was all work and no play. It’s how he’d become the marshal of this large county at such a young age. That, and, he suspected, no one else had wanted the job.

  Breathing in the crisp night air, he shoved back his Stetson and tried to put Vi Mullen out of his mind as he walked. Buckhorn was already filling up fast. Trailers and campers and vendors’ rigs were parked along the outside of the edge of the fairgrounds. Every accommodation in town was full including the makeshift campgrounds in ranchers’ pastures and the new hotel on the east end of town. Leroy wasn’t sure how Vi had gotten Casey Crenshaw James and her husband, Finnegan, to build the hotel—let alone to get it up and operating so quickly.

  A sharp clang echoed in the air making him freeze. He could see nothing but shadowy darkness among the rides, but he sensed he wasn’t alone. The extra security Vi had hired wouldn’t be starting until tomorrow. It was one reason he’d wanted to check things out himself tonight.

  Metal clanged again and a moment later he heard the rough grinding sound of an engine cranking up. He followed the noise toward the center of the fairgrounds and the skeletal black outline of the carnival rides etched against the dark sky. All the rides sat silent, unoccupied—except one. As he watched, the Ferris wheel began to turn to the shriek of tinny music.

  For a moment, he thought the wheel had started up on its own since he hadn’t seen another soul on the grounds. He’d read enough Stephen King books that it gave him a start—until he saw the man operating the ride in the darkness.

  While the front gates were all locked and a chain-link fence surrounded the fairgrounds property, there were several large gates along the back and sides that might have been left open after some of the vendors had driven in earlier.

  “What’s going on?” he asked as he approached. The darkness around him felt complete since the waxing gibbous moon hadn’t risen from behind the mountains yet. It seemed a strange time to be testing the equipment.

  The operator, he saw on closer inspection, was somewhere in his teens and appeared embarrassed as if caught in the act of doing something he shouldn’t have been. Seeing Leroy’s uniform, he hurriedly stopped the Ferris wheel. The chairs rocked and creaked above t
hem.

  Leroy repeated his question.

  Ducking his head, the teen shrugged and mumbled, “She wanted a ride.”

  She wanted a ride?

  Leroy pulled his flashlight off his belt, snapped it on and shone the strong beam upward past all the empty chairs to the one still rocking at the very top and the figure now silhouetted against the dark sky.

  As his light illuminated the figure wearing a dark hoodie, she ducked her head. He turned to the operator. “Get her down.”

  The teen quickly restarted the motor and the Ferris wheel began to move. Leroy stood waiting impatiently as the chair came slowly downward. The moment it reached the bottom, the teen shut down the engine.

  The marshal had expected both the ride operator and the girl to take off at a run once she was on the ground. But it was only the teen operator who mumbled sorry as he hurried toward the carny camp on the river, leaving Leroy and the girl.

  “The fun’s over. Come on off there,” he ordered in the ambient glow of his flashlight pointed downward so as not to blind her. He’d caught only a glimpse of her face under the hoodie.

  “Killjoy,” she said under her breath as she lazily pushed aside the barrier and stepped out of the chair to come down the short ramp toward him.

  As if on cue, the nearly full moon peeked over the rim of the mountains, and he got his first real look at her—and his second shock of the night. Stopping a few feet from him, she threw back her hoodie and shook out a mass of dark curls that cascaded down around her shoulders. With a swiftness born of practice, she scooped up the long mane to pull it into a ponytail before she turned her attention to him.

  He’d been expecting a teenager. Having worked one summer on the road with a carnival when he was young, Leroy remembered the young local girls flirting with him, trying to get free rides. He’d assumed that is what had happened here tonight.

  But the woman standing before him in the moonlight appeared to be closer to his own age—mid to late thirties. She was slim, wore cutoff jean shorts below her sweatshirt, her long legs nicely muscled and tanned all the way down to the biker boots. No wonder he’d thought she was a teenager.