Cowboy Protector. Margaret Daley
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search the whole fifteen-story building. Maybe she could find an office to hide in on another floor. Maybe she was overreacting, but she didn’t want to take the chance.
In the stairwell, she zeroed in on a door on the outside wall with a red-lettered sign plastered on its dull gray surface that read Emergency Exit Only. She stared up the stairs, then at the door. If she opened it, an alarm might go off.
What choice did she really have?
None. It would be easier to get lost on the street or in another building, than in this one.
She plowed through the exit, dragging her piece of luggage while gripping her purse and small bag in her other hand. Silence greeted her as she came out into an alley between the two office buildings. Releasing her bottled breath, she glimpsed the main street where her cab had let her out and knew that wasn’t the way to go. She headed deeper into the maze of alleys that ran behind and between the buildings, the odor of garbage assailing her. The smell of dead fish nearly choked her. She hastened her pace.
She kept going in the direction the bus depot was and finally emerged on the avenue that led to the station. Before taking another step, she surveyed the area for the black SUV or anything else that appeared suspicious.
Nothing.
Checking her watch, she realized she only had ten minutes to make her bus to Sweet Creek. If she thought she was in danger of being followed, she wouldn’t go to the ranch. She couldn’t risk their lives. She’d come up with another way to survive, to work.
With hurried steps, she approached the curb and grabbed a taxi that had just dropped off a customer. After seated in the back, she gave the driver the address of the bus depot and kept vigilance on the traffic around her. Ten minutes later, the driver stopped in front of the bus depot, and Hannah ducked inside. Again assessing the nearly deserted station, she saw nothing to alarm her.
Quickly purchasing her ticket, she strode to the bus, gave the driver her big bag, then made her way to the back by the exit, where she deposited the smaller suitcase in the seat by the window. She slid down just enough to keep an eye out the window but not be in full view of anyone on the sidewalk or in a car.
Then she watched the station and the passengers who entered the bus. She purposely forced deep air into her lungs. Her pulse rate finally slowed to a normal rate.
If there had been someone after her, then it had been a close call. Probably she overreacted, but she’d decided long ago she would rather do that than be wrong. Being wrong meant she could be dead. There was no choice.
However, the fact remained, she’d stayed too long in Billings. She’d come to care too much for Saul and allowed herself to pretend he still needed her when he hadn’t. She would make sure her time at the Triple T Ranch was shorter. If there were no complications, Misty should be fine without home health care in seven or eight weeks.
Perfect for her. As much as she loved Montana and its wide-open spaces and breathtaking scenery, after this job she would have to move to another state. She really should have before now, but there was something about Montana that had touched a need in her. She wanted to stay in the state. That was a luxury, like so many others, she couldn’t afford any longer.
Micah McGraw, a Deputy U.S. Marshal in Montana, picked up the phone and placed a call to his brother, Jackson, a Special Agent in the Chicago FBI field office. “I lost Hannah Williams. She must have seen me and figured I was tailing her. She bolted out of a cab and into an office building. I searched it but couldn’t find her.”
“Do you think Hannah Williams is Jen Davis?” Jackson asked, a tired, exasperated tone to his voice.
“Her hair’s different, but that’s easy enough to change. From a distance she looks like the photo I got from her file.”
“Then my informant was right. I hope she left Billings then because the Martino crime family is moving in on her. There are similarities between Eloise Hill and Jen Davis that will get her killed.”
“I wish the marshal who was Jen’s contact hadn’t retired and moved to Arizona. We could use a positive identification and someone who Jen knows. Is there any way the informant can stop them from pursuing her? Jen Davis doesn’t have anything to do with the Martino crime family.”
“I don’t think so. The informant contacts me, not the other way around. Jen could be murdered before I speak with her again so find her, Micah. Too many have died at the hands of the Martino family.”
“I’m trying. I’ll keep you informed if the woman’s trail is picked up.” Micah replaced the receiver in its cradle and stared out the window of his office. The name of the program he was a part of mocked him. This was one witness he couldn’t protect. And it certainly wasn’t what he’d signed up for—watching helplessly as another was killed.
THREE
Hannah stared out the window of her bedroom at the Triple T Ranch. Big snowflakes drifted to the ground to disappear between the brown grass blades. Until she’d come to Montana she’d never seen snow and had marveled at the beauty of the landscape after it fell that first time. For a while a pristine white blanket had covered the ground and silence had reigned until a child’s laugh of glee disrupted the stillness. Bundled up in layers of clothing, the boy, no more than seven, had come outside, pulling his sled toward the top of the street. In that moment she’d fallen in love with the state.
But on the long bus ride this morning, she’d firmed in her mind to leave Montana after this job. It was a big state, but she’d outlasted her welcome. Maybe she could find another place with snow that often lay undisturbed for acres and scenery that could steal her breath and make her forget everything but its beauty.
Again she would have to leave behind something she loved. Her future stretched before her in bleakness.
Turning away from the sight of the snow beginning to accumulate, Hannah opened her large suitcase and began to unpack. Dinner would be in thirty minutes and what little she had wouldn’t take that long to put away. She’d finish and go get Misty. She felt so comfortable with the little girl, and maybe for a while, she could imagine Misty was her daughter.
Spending time with the child this afternoon had been the bright spot in an otherwise difficult day. Sitting in the back of the bus, she’d kept an eye on the vehicles on the highway. She was sure no one had followed her from Billings, but she would keep up her guard anyway. It was her life now whether she liked it or not.
However, the hardest time today had been driving with Austin Taylor to his ranch. When he had talked to her, it had been one question after another about her past. Questions she’d avoided as best she could. She could tell he was suspicious of her, even though a friend of the family had recommended her, which had made her wonder why he’d hired her in the first place. That had been resolved when she’d seen Caroline again. She’d hugged her as though she were a member of the family and had told her she was perfect for the job.
But not in Caroline’s grandson’s eyes.
She would have to remember that and especially keep her guard up around him. Every word would have to be carefully thought out.
Quickly she put her clothes in the drawer or hung them up in the closet, then she left and went into Misty’s room next door. “It’s snowing.”
“It is? I love to play in the snow.” The little girl sat in her bed, listening to her MP3 player. She removed her earplugs.
“So do I. I can’t seem to get enough of it.”
The corners of Misty’s mouth turned down. “But I can’t play in it.” She slapped her hand on her leg cast.
“We’ll have to talk to your dad. Maybe we can figure something out. There are a lot of ways to enjoy snow.”
The expression on the little girl’s face brightened. “Yeah.”
“You ready for dinner?”
Misty nodded and threw