made a face. “I called your office on my way here. Marge scares me.”
He doubted that. He’d known Leah a lifetime ago. Was this woman standing in his kitchen the same Leah he’d toasted when she and Charlie had married? “Marge is a little protective.”
“I should say. So you really are a private investigator?”
“That’s what my license says.”
She studied him with narrowed eyes. “Why do I get the feeling there is more to it?”
“I have no idea,” he said. “Are you sure you’ll be all right here by yourself?”
“I’ll be fine.” She smiled. “I won’t steal your silverware, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I wasn’t. Anyway, it’s cheap flatware.”
She sobered. “I’ve missed you, Beau. Charlie and I both have. But I honestly do have a package coming here, and it’s important or I wouldn’t have done it without checking with you first.”
“Then we’ll talk later,” he said and left. It made him nervous, not knowing what was going to be required of him over the next few days or possibly longer—and having Leah here was a complication.
Turning his thoughts again to DJ Justice, he realized he was excited to see the grown-up DJ. He’d thought about her over the years and had hoped her life had turned out all right. But if she was in trouble and needed his help, then there was no way of knowing what her life had been like the past thirty years. He hated to think what kind of trouble she had gotten into that required his help.
Since her father was calling in a promise... Beau was betting it was the dangerous kind.
* * *
ANDREI LOOKED AT the coin in his hand for a long moment. His hand shook a little as he tossed the coin and watched it spin before he snatched it from the air and slapped it down on his thick wrist.
He hesitated, mentally arguing with himself. He had a bad feeling this time. But the money was good, and he’d always gone by the flip of a coin.
Superstition dictated that he went through the same steps each time. Otherwise...
He knew too well the otherwise as he slowly lifted his palm to expose the coin. Heads, he went ahead with this hit. Tails...
Heads. A strange sense of both worry and disappointment filled him. But the coin toss was sacred to him, so he assured himself he should proceed as he pocketed the coin.
Stepping to the table, he picked up the information he’d been given on the woman he was to kill.
He noticed that a prison snitch had provided her whereabouts. He snorted, shaking his head and trying to ignore that little voice in his head that was telling him this one was a mistake. But he’d worked with the man who’d hired him before, so he pushed aside his doubts and picked up the photo of Dee Anna Justice, or DJ as she was apparently called.
Pretty. He wondered idly what she had done to warrant her death—but didn’t let himself stay on that thought long. It had never mattered. It especially couldn’t matter this time—his last time.
Maybe that was what had him on edge. He’d decided that this one would be it. With the money added to what he’d saved from the other hits, he could retire at forty-five. That had always been his goal. Another reason he’d taken this job. It would be over quickly. By his birthday he would be home free. He saw that as a sign, since this would be his last job.
Encouraged, he took the data over to the fireplace and lit it with a match. He would already be in Montana, waiting for a sign, by the time Dee Anna Justice arrived.
* * *
DJ LEANED BACK into the first-class seat, wishing she could sleep on the airplane. Her mind had been reeling since finding the doll and the photograph. But now, to discover after all these years that she had family, a cousin...
She’d been shocked and wary when she’d gotten the message on her voice mail. “Hi, my name’s Dana Cardwell Savage. I’m your cousin. I live in Montana, where your father was born. I’d really love to talk to you. In fact, I want to invite you to the Cardwell Ranch here at Big Sky for the holidays.”
Instantly she’d known this call had been her father’s doing. But how had he gotten her cell phone number? She mentally smacked herself on the forehead as she recalled the guard at the prison searching her purse. The only thing he’d taken was her cell phone, saying she could pick it up on the way out. She should have known her father had friends in prison.
She’d thought about ignoring the message. What if this was just some made-up relative? She wouldn’t have put it past her father.
But the voice had sounded...sincere. If this Dana Cardwell Savage really was her cousin...would she be able to fill in the gaps about her father’s family? What about her mother’s family? Wasn’t there a chance she might know something about the doll and photograph?
She’d always had the feeling there was some secret her father had been keeping from her. If Dana Savage had the answer...
After doing some checking, first to verify that Walter William Justice had been born in Montana near Big Sky and then to see if there really was a Cardwell Ranch and a Dana Cardwell Savage, DJ had finally called her back.
A few minutes on the phone and she’d agreed to fly out. “I can’t stay for the holidays, but thank you for asking. I would like to meet you, though. I have to ask. What makes you so sure we’re cousins?”
Dana explained about discovering an uncle she hadn’t known existed until she’d found some old letters from him to her grandparents on her mother’s side. “There’d been a falling-out. I hate to say this, but they’d disowned him. That’s why I’d never heard of your father until a few years ago, when I found the letters.”
His family had disowned him? Was it that simple, why she’d never known about them? “Do you still have those letters?”
“I do.”
She had felt her heart soar. Something of substance she could use to find out the truth. She wanted answers so badly. “I’ve never known anything about my father’s family—or my mother’s, for that matter, so I’d love to learn more.”
“Family is so important. I’m delighted that your father called. I’d heard he had died. I’m so glad that wasn’t true.”
Little involving her father was the truth, DJ thought. But if his family had disowned him, then maybe that explained why he’d kept them from her. She had a cousin. How many more relatives did she have that he hadn’t told her about?
She tried to relax. Her cousin was picking her up at the airport and taking her to the family ranch where her father had been born. These people were his family, her family, people she’d never known had existed until recently. She wanted to pinch herself.
Pulling her purse from under the seat in front of her, she peered in at the rag doll. If only it could talk. Still, looking into its sweet face made her smile in spite of herself. It wasn’t hers, but it was so much like hers...
She thought of Trixie and remembered leaving a motel room in the middle of the night and not realizing until later that the doll wasn’t with her.
“You must have dropped her,” her father had said as they sped out of town.
“We have to go back,” she’d cried. “We can’t leave her.”
He’d looked over at her. “We can’t, sweetie. If I go back there... We can’t. I’ll get you another doll.”
She hadn’t wanted another doll and had cried herself to sleep night after night until she had no more tears.
“It was just a stupid doll,” her father had finally snapped.
“It was all I ever had that was mine.”