Luck of the Draw Read online

  The warden had been more than helpful. Getting what he needed, he disconnected and headed for Deer Lodge, Montana, and the prison. All his instincts told him he was onto something. Now if he could just find out who had hired the man in his morgue to kill Monica aka Joslyn, he could retire in peace.

  * * *

  MONTANA STATE PRISON outside of Deer Lodge, Montana, sat up on a hill overlooking the small town. Sid was led into a room to wait as Frankie Rutledge was brought down. He didn’t have to wait long.

  Rutledge had a face that told of a hard life lived. He’d been thirty-seven when he’d pulled his gun in the convenience store in Missoula, Montana, that night. Two years later, he looked closer to sixty.

  He walked with a limp, slightly dragging his left leg. His hair had grayed and there were deep wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. He had a badly done skull tattoo on his neck and numerous tattoos on his arms that made his skin appear bruised.

  As he shuffled into the room, he seemed to be surprised to see a county sheriff and one he’d never met. “When I heard I had a visitor...”

  Sid motioned him into the chair opposite the marred tabletop.

  “What’s this about?” Frankie asked, still standing.

  “A woman, a convenience-store robbery and a clerk by the name of Jerry Fulton. Ring any bells?”

  His hand went to the back of his head. “Rings a couple of bells. Or was it the canned beans that cold-cocked me that is causing the ringing in my ears still? But that’s ancient history.” Frankie was serving fifteen years for first degree armed robbery, not his first brush with the law.

  “How do you feel about getting more added onto your latest sentence for attempted homicide?” he asked.

  “What?” Rutledge looked confused.

  “I know you didn’t go to that convenience store that night two years ago to rob the place. You went there to kill the woman who was in the store. Did Jerry call you to tell you she was there? Or did you follow her?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Frankie said, but he wasn’t quite so cocky now.

  “I know someone hired you to kill her and that Jerry was in on it.” He didn’t know it, but he suspected it, which right now was good enough.

  Rutledge narrowed his eyes. “If that were true, you wouldn’t be here telling me all this. My lawyer would be calling me to tell me the bad news. What is it you want?” He dragged a chair to him, and, turning it, straddled the seat so he could rest his arms on the back. One of the blurry tattoos on his arm read MOM, Sid noticed.

  “There’s been another attempt on the woman’s life.”

  The prisoner looked surprised and then thoughtful before he let out a laugh. “And you think I had something to do with it.” He scoffed. “Someone gave you the wrong information.”

  Sid could see the man’s mind working. “Tell me who hired you to kill her that night at the convenience store. Maybe I can get you a deal.”

  “A deal, huh?” He broke into a lopsided grin as he rose and shoved the chair away. “I can get my own deal, thank you very much.”

  “Give me the name of the person who hired you to kill her the first time,” Sid said. “Or you are going to be looking at attempted murder charges.”

  “I don’t think so,” the prisoner said. “But I will do this. I’ll tell my lawyer that I might have some information. I get out of here early and in return, you get the name.” His grin broadened, exposing dark holes where teeth were missing. “You’ll find out who hates her so much that they would pay to have her gone.”

  “If she dies before you make the deal—”

  “Then we are both out of luck, huh.” He laughed and walked to the door to pound on it. A guard appeared at once. “We’re all done here,” Frankie Rutledge said to the uniformed man then turned to look back at Sid. “Thanks for coming by. Maybe I can return the favor when I get out.”

  It sounded like a threat, but Rutledge had confirmed what Sid had only suspected. If things went the way he hoped, the prisoner would be on the phone with his lawyer wanting to give up the name of the person who’d hired him to kill Monica Wilmington and it would be the same person who’d recently hired Leon Sheffield. In return Rutledge would try to get some time off his latest sentence; not that he would be out of prison long, given his criminal ways.

  At least Sid hoped that would be the way it went down. There was always the chance that Rutledge would try to blackmail the person who’d hired him. But that would mean contacting that person... He knew that was too much to hope for since there would be a record of that contact. Rutledge was too prison smart to make that mistake.

  Sid just hoped it all went down quickly because he didn’t know how much time Joslyn had. He’d almost reached his patrol SUV when his cell phone went off. He looked, not surprised to see that it was Alistair Vanderlin. He’d been anticipating this call and dreading it.

  “Sheriff Anderson,” he answered.

  “Sheriff Anderson.” In those two words he heard disappointment, anger and concern. He braced himself for the bad news. “Garrett Sterling and a friend of his have accosted my ambulance attendants and abducted Monica. Tell me one good reason I shouldn’t call the FBI and have them arrested for kidnapping.”

  “Because you don’t want the bad publicity or you would have already made that call.” Sid sighed. “I’ve known Garrett all my life. He won’t hurt her. Give me twenty-four hours before you do anything we would all regret. I can promise you that as long as she’s with Garrett, she’s safe.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  GARRETT DIDN’T DRIVE FAR, wanting to get off the interstate as quickly as possible. He was both physically and mentally exhausted when he found an out-of-the-way motel. He registered under a false name, paid cash and parked his pickup behind the unit. With Joslyn still groggy, he had to carry her inside where he laid her on the bed and covered her with the comforter.

  After tucking her in, as exhausted as he was, he got on his phone. He had to know everything he could find out about the woman he’d just abducted.

  The story had gotten national news coverage. The murders of Horace and Thea Wilmington came up as the top story complete with a photograph of the husband and wife. He stared at the photo of the two. Horace T. Wilmington and his wife Thea Louise were dressed to the nines in the shot. According to the caption, they were at a charity benefit and were often seen at Seattle’s upper-crust society gatherings.

  Horace had made his money in luxury yachts. There was a second photo of the two of them on their yacht, the Thea Louise. With a start, Garrett noticed someone in the background. A small child with Joslyn’s heart-shaped face. She appeared to be hiding. In front of her was an older blond girl in her teens with a typical sullen teenage look on her pretty face. According to the caption, the older girl’s name was Amethyst, Thea Louise’s daughter by her first marriage. The smaller child was unidentified. Garrett found that very strange, unless Joslyn’s father had wanted to protect her from the publicity.

  He read the entire article, cringing at the description of the murder scene. Both Horace and Thea Louise had been horribly battered to the point of being barely recognizable. The crime scene had been described as “grisly.” The murder weapon was a baseball bat that was later found in the garage of a man named Harvey Mattson, an associate of Horace Wilmington’s. He was convicted of the murders, received a life sentence and was sent to the state prison in Walla Walla. Mattson swore that the bat had been planted in his garage and that he was innocent.

  Amethyst, then thirteen, hadn’t been home at the time. Nor had her younger brother, Peter. But younger daughter from Horace’s first marriage, Monica, then five, was found hiding covered with blood and no memory of what had happened.

  That was the only reference to her.

  He quickly read the other articles that followed. Much of it was repetition since the case had been solved quic
kly. Before that, there’d been an uproar from residents in the wealthy part of Capital Hill neighborhood in Seattle, demanding the killer be found.

  Joslyn had seen the killer? And yet she still didn’t remember? He reminded himself that her name was Monica, but he knew he’d never think of her as anything other than Joslyn Charles.

  Eyes blurry, Garrett turned off his phone again and stretched. Getting up, he went in to check on Joslyn. She was sleeping soundly. He watched the rise and fall of her chest, stared at her beautiful face and felt his heart ache. She’d been through so much. And now someone had tried to kill her and, unless he was wrong, would try again.

  He stood for a moment longer before going into the other room to crash on the couch, too exhausted to drive himself crazy over what he’d done by abducting her.

  Garrett told himself that he’d saved her. At least he hoped he had.

  * * *

  “DID GARRETT GO back up to the guest ranch last night?” Dorothea asked as she came into the kitchen to find the two brothers eating bowls of cereal. “He didn’t sleep here. I just walked by his room and his bed hasn’t been slept in.”

  “The damned fool has gone after that woman after her guardian had her taken away by ambulance,” Will said between bites.

  “Joslyn?” Dorothea asked and couldn’t help smiling. True, she’d been against Garrett taking her up to the guest ranch, fearing for his safety. But to go after her... “That’s so romantic. Who knew he had it in him?”

  “First, there is no Joslyn,” Will said. “The woman’s name is Monica Wilmington and second, there is nothing romantic about it.”

  “I’m confused,” Shade said as he poured more cereal into his bowl. “What’s going on?”

  “I called the sheriff this morning when Garrett wasn’t answering his cell or the landline up at the guest ranch,” Will said. “Our brother and his sidekick Billy Mitchell kidnapped Monica from the back of the ambulance in the middle of eastern Washington.”

  Shade groaned. “Now that is a bad sign. You know what happens when those two get together.”

  “Sid said he’s held Monica’s guardian off for twenty-four hours from calling the feds and having Garrett arrested for kidnapping, but if we hear from Garrett, he wants us to call. At this point, Garrett is on the lam with a woman who is probably as crazy as he apparently is.”

  “So he rescued her,” Dorothea said as she pulled up a seat at the kitchen table. “You have to admit, that’s passion.”

  “Not if he gets himself arrested,” Will snapped, then narrowed his gaze at her. “What’s with you and stars in your eyes?”

  Dorothea shook her head and busied herself with straightening the items on the table. Maybe Sid and their upcoming date did have a little something to do with her change of heart about Garrett and Joslyn.

  “So who is this Monica Wilmington?” Shade asked.

  “Garrett knows her as Joslyn,” Dorothea said. “She’s the woman who broke his heart two years ago.”

  “How do you—”

  Will cut off his brother. “She’s also a woman with a very disturbing history. She witnessed the murder of her father and stepmother when she was five but apparently has no memory of it. There have been other attempts on her life—enough so that she was in the witness protection program. At least until recently when she showed up on the mountainside with a man who wanted to kill her. Needless to say, our brother is neck deep in all of it now.”

  “So where did he and Billy kidnap her?” Shade asked.

  Will groaned. “They jumped the ambulance attendants somewhere in eastern Washington at a gas station. The attendants were taking her to a mental hospital for observation out in Seattle, Sid said. The woman has...mental problems apparently.”

  “I’d have mental problems too if someone was trying to kill me,” Dorothea said. “So of course Garrett is going to save her. What else would you have him do?”

  Will huffed. “You can post his bail when he gets arrested then. But when he calls, I want to be the one to yell at him.”

  Poppy came into the room. She kissed her husband on the cheek and pulled out a chair. “I couldn’t help overhearing this discussion,” she said smiling at her husband. “I believe, Will Sterling, that you risked your life to save mine not all that long ago. I guess it runs in the family, huh.”

  * * *

  JOSLYN WOKE TO sunlight streaming in the window of what appeared to be a motel room that had seen better days. Blinking, she tried to sit up. She could feel the sluggish effect of the drugs she’d been given yesterday. A dull headache throbbed behind her eyes as she tried to remember what had happened.

  Rising, she saw that she was still wearing the dress that Garrett had bought her. But she had no idea where she was or how she’d gotten here. The last she’d heard, the ambulance transport driver said they were taking her back to Seattle.

  As she stepped to the bedroom door, she remembered the dream she’d had though. Garrett had come to save her. The memory made her smile. But then the reality of her situation rushed back in. How could Alistair let his happen? Even as she thought it, she knew he had to be the one to sanction this.

  That terrified her even more. Before, at least she’d always had him on her side. The thought of being locked up in some mental facility... Everything about this felt wrong. Especially now, so close to her birthday. She didn’t want to believe that anyone in her so-called family would hurt her, but then again, there was all that money.

  Her fear intensified as she realized something must have gone wrong for her to be staying in a shabby motel room. Had they reached Seattle? Or had the ambulance broken down on the way?

  She slowly pushed open the door, telling herself that if the attendants were still asleep, she would slip out. She didn’t know how she’d get away but she knew where she would go. Back to Garrett. He was the only one she could trust—even if he still didn’t trust her.

  Blinking, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing at first. Garrett. He lay on the couch sound asleep. She stared at him. It hadn’t been a dream. He had rescued her. An ocean swell of relief, gratitude and love nearly swamped her. She clung to the edge of the door as tears blurred her eyes. He’d saved her again.

  Her heart beat faster at the sight of him. She’d never stopped loving him. But at this moment she loved him more than even all those months ago. She felt as if she would burst with the emotion.

  He’d been so angry with her when she’d told him why she’d left him and why she hadn’t given him the option of coming with her. But he’d still come after her when she’d needed him. He’d saved her. At least temporarily.

  That’s when she had a moment of clarity, when she realized there was only one thing she could do. She had to find out who was behind the attempts on her life. She had to put an end to this. Not just for her sake, but for Garrett’s. She had to prove not to just Alistair and the others, but to the man she loved and even herself, that she wasn’t crazy because there were parts of her life she couldn’t remember.

  His blue eyes fluttered open. He smiled as he focused on her face. “What are you doing?”

  “Watching you sleep.”

  His smile broadened for a moment, then he sat up, rubbed his hand over his stubbled jaw and said, “Did you see a coffeepot anywhere?”

  She nodded. “Want me to make a pot?”

  “While I shower?” he said, sitting up.

  Joslyn had a sudden image of him standing under the spray, water droplets cascading off his hard, tanned body. “There was a time you would have invited me to join you.”

  He stilled, his blue eyes widening as he took her in.

  She could see it was too soon. Might always be too soon. Her heart cramped as she tried hard not to let it show on her face. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’ll see about that coffee.” She turned quickly and went into the tiny kitchen. A mo
ment later she felt him come in behind her.

  “Joslyn?”

  She silently pleaded for him not to say anything.

  When he spoke again she could tell he was carefully choosing his words. “I can’t just pick up where we left off. Not yet. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to hurt you. Once we figure this all out...”

  She continued making the coffee, unwrapping the foam cups, tossing the plastic wrap into the trash. When he’d backed away, she said, “I understand.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him reach to touch her shoulder, but pull back as if he’d changed his mind at the last minute. “We’ll take the coffee to go. We need to get on the road as soon as possible.”

  She nodded without turning, fighting tears. “Do you know where we are?”

  “Outside of Spokane. Why?”

  “There’s someone I need to see.” She turned then to meet his gaze. “Harvey Mattson, the man who went to prison for killing my father and stepmother. He claims he didn’t do it, that he was framed. I was told that he holds me responsible for his being behind bars for the past twenty-five years because I can’t remember what happened that night. If anyone wants me dead, it is probably him.”

  * * *

  GARRETT STOOD UNDER the warm spray of the shower wondering what the hell was wrong with him. Joslyn could be in here with him, the wall between them melting away as he took her in his arms. But he’d held back. Because he was scared that once they made love again, he’d really lose all perspective. What he’d told her was true. Too much was going on right now. Or was it because he couldn’t be sure who he was making love with. Monica Wilmington or Joslyn Charles.

  There was the sliver of doubt still embedded deep in his brain. His heart thought it knew exactly who she was. He wanted her, yearned for her, ached for her, but he had to know for sure what he was dealing with, he told himself.

  He turned the water temperature to icy cold. It took his breath away but was definitely needed. How long could he keep holding her at arm’s length when he wanted her so desperately it hurt? What was it going to take? He wanted her more than he wanted his next breath. But right now keeping her safe had to stay front and center, he told himself. He had to keep his priorities straight.