Honor Bound Read online

  Seeing no one, she quickly used the key and stepped inside. The cabin was as neat as she had expected it to be. Gunderson looked like a man who kept his affairs in order. Which made her worry that she was wasting her time searching his cabin. Nor did she imagine there was anything incriminating in the office.

  These thieves had been too smart to leave anything lying around that would call attention to what they did when not making commercials. While her boss seemed to think she was barking up the wrong tree, as her mother would have said, Kitzie had to follow her gut instinct. And it told her that Gunderson was the leader of this band of jewel thieves and that he would soon be fencing what they’d stolen.

  He and his cohorts probably wouldn’t have the loot with them, though. But there might be some clue as to where they’d stashed it. Or when they planned to fence the goods and to whom.

  She quickly went to work systematically searching the small area. She’d just gotten to the bedroom and was on her hands and knees searching under the bed when she heard heavy boots on the porch. As the door banged open, she slipped all the way under the bed and held her breath.

  * * *

  SAWYER WATCHED THE blue sedan out of the corner of his eye, wondering if Roderick would come into the café. Or if he had just come to watch. From where Roderick had parked he would be able to see him and Ainsley. Because of the darkness beyond the café lights though, Sawyer couldn’t see him behind the wheel. But he was still there. He hadn’t gotten out. Sawyer could almost feel the man staring at them.

  He told himself that Roderick could have just decided to come into town for dinner. There was only one café in town so it wasn’t exactly a coincidence that he would show up here.

  But the security guard still hadn’t gotten out of his car. Sawyer knew he hadn’t come in for dinner. The man had followed Ainsley and now wanted to sit out there and watch. And probably work himself up.

  Sawyer couldn’t let that happen. “Can you excuse me for a minute?” he asked Ainsley, who was preoccupied with her menu.

  Getting up, he headed for the men’s restroom. But when he reached the hallway, he kept going on out the back door. Circling the building, he came up on the passenger side of the blue sedan.

  He could see a dark figure behind the wheel. He was counting on Roderick being distracted as he watched the café—and Ainsley. Sawyer was within yards of the sedan when he saw something flash and realized what the man was doing. He was taking cell phone photos.

  Sawyer couldn’t see what Roderick was shooting. Photos of Ainsley sitting inside the café? Or something else?

  Suddenly the sedan’s engine roared to life. The driver had either spotted him or something had spooked him. Roderick quickly reversed, wheeling out of the parking lot in a cloud of dust and gravel. All Sawyer could do was watch him drive away, thinking what a fool the man was. Didn’t he realize his car had been recognized, and he couldn’t get away that easily?

  * * *

  KITZIE FELT A gust of cold air rush across the floor to her hiding place under the bed as one after another of the men entered the cabin. She counted four.

  “We have booze here,” Gunderson was arguing as the door finally slammed closed. She couldn’t see anything from her spot back under the bed, but she recognized his authoritative voice. “Going into town is dangerous. Especially for you,” he said, apparently indicating one of the men. “You tend to talk too much when you drink.”

  “I don’t need you babysitting me.” She recognized Bobby LeRoy’s whiny voice and listened to him curse and slam out of the cabin. The door banged closed with a sound like a gunshot. Kitzie felt another gust of cold air rush across the floor.

  “He is going to be a problem,” Gunderson said after LeRoy left.

  “There isn’t much we can do under the circumstances.” Ken Hale, the owner of the carnival. She knew his gravelly deep voice only too well since he made a point of talking to her every chance he got.

  “Go after him,” Gunderson ordered. “Try to keep him out of trouble. We just need him for a few more days. Nathan, you go with him.”

  “Talk about babysitting,” T.K. Clark, the hippie cameraman, complained, but Kitzie heard him and Nathan follow LeRoy out the door. Before the door slammed, though, she heard Hale say for him to calm down LeRoy and that he’d be along in a minute.

  “I have a bad feeling that punk kid is going to blow everything,” Hale said to Gunderson after the others had left.

  “Don’t start with that crap about your gypsy blood, Hale. I know what I’m doing. In the meantime, we get the commercial shot, collect our money and then go our separate ways. I’ve always wanted to go to Ireland or maybe Greenland.”

  Hale’s laugh sounded like a truck engine with a bad starter. “Screw that. I’m going someplace warm and sunny. Mexico maybe. Or even South America. I’m done being a carnie. I’m giving all my carnival equipment to my nephew. It’s all junk anyway.”

  “Just make sure it all runs for the commercial. Let’s not turn our noses up at the money that’s kept us fed.”

  “I might need help getting things rolling the last day, but there will be free rides for everyone. The grocery delivery guy said he’d test any ride I wasn’t sure was working right.” Hale laughed. “Everyone loves a carnival.”

  Gunderson said something under his breath she didn’t catch.

  Just when Kitzie was thinking she would be trapped under this bed all night—that’s if Gunderson didn’t find her—the two left. She huddled in the darkness until she was sure both of them weren’t coming right back before she slipped out.

  Creeping to the window, she looked into the darkness beyond the cabins. Over by one of the vehicles, she saw that LeRoy and Clark seemed to be having a heated discussion. Nathan Grant was standing off to the side, clearly wanting no part of it.

  She saw that Gunderson had walked partway down the mountainside with Hale. He was pointing in the direction of the carnival equipment. He looked angry.

  Kitzie slipped out of the cabin, moving deeper in the shadows as Clark appeared to be trying to calm down LeRoy. It was clear that LeRoy was the weak link in the jewelry thieves’ chain.

  She wondered why they would put up with the new hire. They must need LeRoy for something more than helping get the carnival rides going. Whatever the reason, Kitzie knew he was the one she had to get close to. If this group needed Bobby LeRoy, then he must have some value. She just hoped he knew enough about the burglaries that she could get the proof she needed to make the arrests.

  Time was running out. Gunderson was clearly the leader of this motley crew, just as she had suspected. He was the one she’d caught watching the others, especially if LeRoy got too loud at one of the meals.

  The problem would be getting LeRoy alone. But maybe that would solve itself tonight since she figured there was a good chance he would come back to his cabin drunk.

  Tonight LeRoy was hers, Kitzie thought as she watched Hale join LeRoy and his two babysitters. The four of them left in T.K. Clark’s van. Gunderson watched them leave before walking toward the silent, dark silhouette of the carnival rides.

  Kitzie hurried toward the hotel. Murph was behind her desk still. Hoping she hadn’t noticed that Gunderson’s extra cabin key was missing, she entered the office, the key palmed in her hand.

  “Don’t hate me, but I can’t find my key to my cabin.”

  “It will cost you twenty-five bucks if you don’t find it.” Murph rolled her eyes and let out a curse as she turned to the board behind her.

  “Wait, maybe that’s it,” she said, pointing to the key she’d dropped and kicked under the desk. It now lay against the back wall, near enough to the board with all the other keys.

  Murph bent to pick it up, frowning as she did. “Nope, it’s cabin one. The keys are always falling off the board.” She put Gunderson’s cabin
key back where it should have been. “You’re in seven. Right?” She pulled down the extra key and spun around in her swivel chair.

  Kitzie reached for the key, but Murph kept it in her hand as she leaned forward, her expression dour. “You go open your door and you come right back with this. You lose this one—”

  “I’ll bring it right back. I promise.”

  Murph shook her head in disgust but handed over the key.

  Kitzie walked to her cabin, opened the door and, leaving it ajar, trotted back to the hotel—just in case Murph was watching. She handed her the key.

  Murph said, “Close the door on your way out.”

  On the way back to her cabin, Kitzie planned her attack. She would be waiting for LeRoy when he got home. Even if he didn’t know anything, it would give her a chance to search his cabin later after he’d passed out. She just had to make sure Gunderson didn’t catch her. The first time she’d seen him, she’d known that Gun was dangerous. She wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that he’d killed before.

  * * *

  SLUT! THANK GOODNESS he hadn’t taken her home to meet his mother. What if she’d worn that red dress? It was disgraceful.

  From a table in the café, he’d watched Ainsley and the cowboy. It was difficult to even look at her dressed in that horrible red scrap of fabric. He’d wanted to rip it from her ivory flesh, envisioning her trying to cover her nakedness.

  What had happened to the woman he’d fallen in love with the moment he’d seen her? She wouldn’t remember, but that day in Livingston, she’d stopped to help him. He hadn’t known who she was at the time. He’d just been startled that when he’d dropped some papers, she’d hurried to pick them up before Livingston’s famous wind had sent them airborne.

  As she’d handed them to him, he’d looked into her beautiful face. He’d never believed in love at first sight. Not really. There’d been other women, of course, but they’d all disappointed him before things had gone very far.

  “Thank you,” he had said in surprise at both her generosity at helping a man like him and at realizing he’d found The One.

  She’d been distracted, so she’d hardly noticed him. A man had called to her as she had knelt to gather up the stray papers littering the sidewalk. So she hadn’t really looked at him. But her act of kindness had touched him deeply.

  He had turned and watched her hurry to the man who’d called her name. What a beautiful name. Ainsley. How unusual. His heart had pounded as he’d realized it was meant to be. There were no coincidences in life. People appeared because they were supposed to.

  The man had led Ainsley to his van with the business logo on the side. It hadn’t taken him long to find out that she’d been hired to scout movie locations for a producer working with the local company. After that, it had been a matter of following her from location to location as other film and television commercial producers hired her.

  It had been fun watching her work when he got the chance. He’d found ways to be around her. He had to be careful. A couple of times, he’d been afraid she’d seen him. If she realized that she’d seen him on more than one of the productions, she would get suspicious. That wouldn’t do at all. She’d think he was some kind of weirdo. No, he knew he had to learn as much about her as possible before he introduced himself. He wanted to make the right impression.

  Now, though, as he watched her smiling across the table at the cowboy, he felt so hurt, so betrayed, so angry with her.

  He’d been deciding what to do when the cowboy had risen from the table. He’d thought the man was probably going to the restroom. He had considered going over to Ainsley’s table, grabbing her arm and dragging her out of the café.

  The cowboy, he’d noticed, had headed for the restroom, but at the last minute had stepped outside. How strange. Getting up, he’d done the same thing. The night air had been chilly, since he hadn’t taken the time to put on his coat. He’d stayed in the shadows, wondering where the cowboy was going. Surely he wouldn’t be ditching Ainsley.

  A surge of indignation had him reaching into his pocket for the switchblade knife he always carried. He could kill the cowboy out here in the parking lot, and no one would be the wiser.

  But curiosity had held him back. What, he’d wondered, was so important out in the parking lot that Sawyer Nash would leave his date alone?

  He’d watched, mesmerized as the cowboy had sneaked through the dark toward a blue sedan. What in the heck? From his vantage point, he hadn’t been able to see the dark figure behind the wheel of the car. Then there had been a series of flashes of light from inside the car’s interior that lit up the man’s face for an instant. He’d recognized him as Lance Roderick, the security guard. Now there was a weirdo for you.

  The light had flashed again in the sedan, and with a shock, he realized that Roderick had just taken his photo. What in the—

  He’d taken a step toward the car when the engine suddenly roared. Roderick reversed the sedan and, throwing gravel, left. Sawyer, he saw, was headed back toward the café, coming in his direction.

  He hurried around the side of the café and in the back door, ducking into the men’s restroom. What had that been about? He stood in the stall, half-afraid Sawyer had seen him and would come in. If he did... He fingered the switchblade. Let him.

  But when the restroom stayed quiet, he washed his hands just as his mother had taught him and went back to his spot at the counter. His dinner had come while he was gone. But as he watched Sawyer and Ainsley, he realized his appetite had been ruined. What was that stupid security guard doing shooting his photo?

  Worse, Ainsley was smiling at Sawyer in a way that made his stomach roil. He ate what he could. All the while, he studied her and the cowboy. Whatever Sawyer Nash’s story, he thought, fingering the knife in his pocket, it was time.

  * * *

  THE NIGHT HAD turned cold by the time Gun walked back to his cabin. He walked slowly with his head down, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  Since his conversation with Hale last night, he felt tense. Hale had always been a pain in the ass. But they’d worked well together because Hale respected only one thing. Money. Was that the problem now? He didn’t want their arrangement to stop?

  That worried Gun. It was one thing if Hale had merely gotten used to having the influx of extra money. It was another if he was desperate for money. Now that he thought about it, Hale had been testy and more nervous than usual since he’d arrived here. He’d complained about bringing all the carnival equipment. He’d wanted a bigger cut for his trouble.

  Gun groaned to himself as he reached his cabin. Of his crew, he hadn’t expected Hale to be the problem. LeRoy was a given. He was young, drank too much and knew that they needed him. Gun had been prepared for that problem. But not Hale, not the man he’d trusted all these years.

  He opened the door to his cabin, stepped in and was locking it behind him when he froze. Earlier he’d been distracted when the others were here. But now he was alone in the space he’d occupied for the past few days. He liked to keep his place neat and clean. He liked to know where everything was. He didn’t like anyone touching his belongings.

  Turning slowly, he surveyed the main room. Nothing looked out of place, and yet he knew the cabin had been searched. One of the drawers in the small kitchen hadn’t been closed all the way.

  He took a step, not sure which room to check first. His instincts led him to the bedroom. There was the slightest indentation on the edge of the bedspread. Almost as if someone had put a hand down to help himself up.

  Gun bent down and looked under the bed. He’d borrowed a vacuum the first day he’d arrived and cleaned the cabin before he’d moved in. Still, the cabin was old, the windows weren’t well insulated, so of course there would be dust with everyone coming and going on the road.

  Most people wouldn’t
have been able to see where the dust under the bed had been disturbed, but Gun did. His gut clenched at the sight. Not only had someone searched his cabin, but they’d hidden under his bed.

  He quickly thought back. When? With a curse, he realized it had to have been earlier. Otherwise he would have noticed the drawer. Whoever had been under his bed had heard everything that he and the others had discussed.

  So who had it been? And what was he going to do about it?

  CHAPTER TEN

  KITZIE FIGURED LEROY and his cohorts wouldn’t be back until after the bars closed. Still, she wanted to be ready. She was preparing for her encounter with LeRoy when she got the call.

  “The fence is Harry Lester Brown,” her partner with the FBI, Pete Corran, told her the moment she answered. “He is flying into Montana.” He sounded excited, and she could understand why. Before, they’d been running on nothing but a theory. With Harry Lester flying in, she knew they’d been right.

  “He’s still alive?” The man had to be in his nineties. He’d gained renown for fencing some of the biggest hauls in history from famous heists, but had dropped out of sight years ago.

  “He’s flying up from Florida tomorrow,” Pete said. “He just booked a flight. Guess where he’s flying to.” Butte was the closest town to where Kitzie and the crew were right now. “You guessed it,” he said, even before she got the chance to answer. “He wouldn’t fly into Butte unless he was here to see the goods.”

  She wanted to agree. “But isn’t this small potatoes for a man like Harry Lester?” It didn’t seem likely.

  “Unless he’s fallen on hard times and needs the money.”

  She supposed that was a possibility. “What time is his flight?”

  “Arrives at 9:45 p.m. It’s the last flight.”

  “So he’ll have to spend the night.”