Classified Christmas. B.J. Daniels
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about her death said that the car had rolled numerous times before catching fire? Her body had apparently burned beyond recognition.
What if Starr had faked her death just as Andi had first suspected? What if she was somewhere living off that three mil with her accomplice? Then who had been killed in the car wreck?
Mind racing, Andi realized the pieces still didn’t fit. Lubbock was out of prison and missing. But whoever had sent her the job information about Whitehorse knew she had information about Lubbock’s arrest in Montana. That meant the person knew about her interest in the Calhoun family. Might even know about her connection to the Calhouns.
She groaned, realizing how that was possible. A few years back, she’d driven over to the prison where Amarillo Calhoun had been sentenced. The eldest of the Calhoun children, Amarillo had followed in his parents’ footsteps, his life of crime going from bank robbing to murder.
She’d seen him sitting in the glassed-in cubicle. Their eyes had met. He must have recognized her because he told the guard he didn’t want to speak with her—backing out on their interview. Her face had been all over the TV news. She’d just broken a big news story. That was right before she’d gotten her newscaster job in Fort Worth.
So it was possible Lubbock knew who she was and why she would jump at digging into this story.
If her friend Bradley was right, then Lubbock was after the missing money. Or Starr and the money, if she’d faked her death. Or there was Houston Calhoun, who’d disappeared the same time as Starr.
Clearly if Lubbock had left her the tape and newspaper clipping, he wasn’t interested in the truth coming out. And he wasn’t the only one, Andi thought. Cade Jackson wouldn’t want a story about his wife being Starr Calhoun, the bank robber, hitting the news, either, she thought, remembering the look on his face when he’d recognized the woman on the Wanted poster. If he’d loved his wife as much as he appeared to, what would the truth do to him?
She pushed the thought away. She’d never backed down from a story and wasn’t going to now. The best stories rose out of someone’s pain. This was one of those stories.
A niggling concern wormed its way into her thoughts, though. Whoever was sending her the information was playing her like a marionette until he got what he wanted. Then what?
Her phone rang, making her jump.
“Hello?”
Silence.
“Hello?” she said again, feeling suddenly spooked. Lubbock?
Then to her relief, Cade said, “It’s me.” He didn’t sound happy about it, though.
She waited, suspecting he was sorry he’d called and might even hang up.
“I need to see you,” he said gruffly.
“All right. Do you want me to—”
“I’m right outside.”
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