“You know, there’s no guarantee that bringing her to the district attorney will be enough to clear Christian’s name.”
“I know.” Tucker stared out the window, trying to organize his thoughts. “I won’t be hasty. I’ll take a look around. See if I can dig up something tying her to the money.”
“I don’t know.... Sure it can’t wait two weeks?”
He smiled. “I won’t do anything risky. In fact, I have the perfect cover. My foundation funds sanctuaries and shelters.”
“Or you can have a look, confirm it’s her and, while you wait for me, take some time to go fishing. Montana has some great streams and lakes.”
Tucker laughed.
George did, too. “I know. What was I thinking? You’re so much like your old man. He never took time off, either.”
“Listen, do me a favor. When you can, dust off those Warner files, huh? It’s been a while. Let’s see if we missed a connection somewhere along the way.”
“That I can do fairly quickly.”
After they hung up, Tucker looked at his April calendar.
It was jammed, of course. The Rocking B ranch, started on a shoestring by his adoptive grandfather, built into an empire by his late step-father, was over 500,000 acres. They raised cattle, horses and crops, and there were twelve working oil wells on 160,000 acres of backcountry land. Although he had managers to handle the day-to-day business, the buck stopped with Tucker.
It wasn’t easy for him to make the trip himself, but he’d manage. If he rearranged his schedule, he could go the following Monday. That time frame would give him a chance to refresh himself on Leanna’s history and find out what he could about Safe Haven and the town of Blackfoot Falls.
He called Darren in, and they began the work of shuffling appointments. There wouldn’t be any problem, except for one—he dedicated Tuesday nights to dinner with his mother. If he flew out Monday, he doubted he’d be back in time.
Irene lived on the ranch in a private suite of rooms, but they didn’t cross paths that often. She had her own social circle that kept her reasonably busy, but she was still grieving for her husband, who’d died eighteen months ago.
Tucker spent his weekends in Dallas proper taking care of social obligations, and worked the rest of the week at the ranch. She probably wouldn’t say much, but of all the things Irene did, she most looked forward to their weekly dinner. He hated disappointing her, but it couldn’t be helped.
While Darren went through item after item, Tucker kept staring at the pictures he’d pulled back up on his computer. He might want to blame his younger brother for being so gullible, but that didn’t mean Tucker wouldn’t help him clear his name. There was more at stake here. Christian had gotten the short straw when they’d been children, and while Tucker’s own guilt was great, it was nothing compared to their mother’s.
He couldn’t afford to wait for George. Tucker needed to see this “Annie” for himself. And if she was the woman who’d left Christian holding the bag for her crimes, delivering her to justice might help bring his erstwhile family together again.
* * *
A
S
A
NNIE
SIPPED
HER
COFFEE
,
she checked the big blackboard above her desk. On it were the days of the week, the scheduled volunteers, appointments, deadlines...basically her life in chalk.
Mondays were always fun, at least in the early afternoon when Melanie Knowles brought a group of high school students to volunteer. Melanie had convinced the principal and the school board to give the students academic credits for their participation. Each time a group arrived in the small yellow bus, they had an hour of instruction—everything from animal husbandry to money management—before being assigned tasks.
Melanie and the students had even started a major project on their own that would benefit the shelter for years to come.
Thank goodness, because Safe Haven wasn’t in nearly good enough financial shape to handle anything outside the basics of feeding and caring for the animals. But at least they’d made significant headway by turning the operation into a not-for-profit organization that was finally eligible for grant money and more substantial donations. All thanks to Shea. She’d helped Annie with the paperwork, but her participation meant much more. Shea was the name and face of Safe Haven.
Just remembering the days before Annie had asked Shea to serve as Safe Haven’s chairman of the board made Annie tense. The future of the sanctuary had been at stake. Annie couldn’t use her real name on any government document. Since she was an unpaid volunteer, she wasn’t noted at all.
The rest of the board positions had been filled with longtime residents of Blackfoot Falls, and they were one hell of an ornery bunch. Their first meeting would be next week, and wasn’t that going to be a corker. Annie would be there to run things—Shea had made her promise—but with an official and legal board of directors, Safe Haven would continue even if Annie had to disappear in a hurry.
That thought sent her mood plummeting. Better get busy before she had too much time to brood.
It wasn’t light out yet, but she’d have to start the first round of feeding shortly, so she booted up her computer and checked her email. She didn’t get much. A few volunteers liked to keep in touch between visits, some ebills had to be slotted for payment. Shea had sent pictures of yesterday’s party that she’d posted on the Sundance website.
The fourth one nearly stopped her heart.
It was a picture of her. For anyone to see. Including the New York district attorney.
2
T
UCKER
WAS
ALREADY
IN
THE
sunroom, waiting for his mother to join him for lunch. He never minded spending time with her, but he wished he could do something more to lift her spirits.
Finding Leanna Warner would help. Irene wanted so badly to bring Christian back into her life that Tucker would do just about anything he could to make that happen. Proving Christian’s innocence was no guarantee that he’d see past the pain of being abandoned as a child and give his mother and Tucker another chance. But it was Tucker’s best shot.
Tucker had gone through his own pain and doubt during his parents’ bitter divorce, but he’d been the lucky one. He’d ended up with his mother, a man he admired as his new father and a legacy of wealth and privilege to live up to. Christian had been the bargaining chip for Rory Andrews to grant Irene her divorce. She’d never dreamed that Rory would vanish, would subject Christian to a nomadic life following the horse-racing circuit and running from debts.
That Christian had gone to college and received his master’s in finance was a testament to hard work and determination, because there’d been no support from his dad. Now, to have this cloud of suspicion over his reputation was another kick in the teeth Christian didn’t deserve.
Every time Tucker thought of the grief Leanna Warner had brought down on his family it angered him further, but he’d never been one to act rashly. By the time he turned that woman in, he’d make damn sure his brother would be exonerated completely.
Irene entered the room with her head high, and a smile on her face. It was all for show, but sometimes he thought the facade was the only thing keeping her going. That and hope.
* * *
T
HE
MORNING
WENT
BY
IN
FITS
and starts, and Shea was late. Her phone was going straight to voice mail, which meant she probably hadn’t remembered to turn it on again. Annie had gone back to the computer several times, just to make sure she wasn’t freaking out over nothing, but she wasn’t. Her picture, along with her first name being associated with Safe Haven, was plenty to worry about. Shea would know how many hits the site had logged, and that page in particular. A high number would be more reason to run as quickly as possible. A low number meant it was far less risky for Annie to stay.
God, she wanted to stay.
The irony wasn’t lost on her. She’d been so intent on becoming a mover and shaker in Manhattan that she’d gotten herself into the worst trouble she could imagine. Now, she was desperate to live in a cabin that made her first New York apartment look roomy, and had fallen in love with a life of pitching hay and nursing everything from piglets to Brahma bulls. But she’d better stop romanticizing the sanctuary and her life, because that would make running even harder.
“Annie? Can I ride Candy Cane after class?”
Shaken out of her slide toward panic, she smiled at one of her favorite students—a small girl for a senior—who was deeply infatuated with horses. “You have a ride home?”
Stephanie nodded. “My mom said I could stay for an hour if it’s okay with you.”
“You bet. Candy needs a little exercise.”
The girl ran back to the work of mucking out one of the birthing stalls as Annie heard a car crunching over the gravel driveway. Her heart beat furiously as Shea parked her truck.
“Sorry I’m late. I ran into Doc Yardley and we got to talking. But I remembered to bring the—”
Annie grabbed the bag of medicine from Shea’s outstretched hand. “I need to speak to you,” she said. “Inside. I’ll be right there.”
Shea’s expression had gone from pleasant to worried, but instead of shooting back questions, she simply closed the truck door behind her and headed for the cabin.
Annie trotted to Melanie, who was helping one of the kids distribute feed to the goats. “Can you watch things for me? Something’s come up.”
Melanie, who had once considered becoming a vet, agreed at once.
It struck Annie hard that she knew so much about this quiet woman who’d made such an impact at Safe Haven and with her students. In fact, Annie knew a great deal about many of the people in this quaint Montana town. She’d meant to avoid all this. To keep to herself. Getting involved hadn’t been part of the plan, and this was why.
She forced a smile for Melanie, then turned, wanting to run to the cabin. But it wasn’t that far, and she could use the extra minute to calm herself. Since she’d seen the picture, she’d worried about a million things that could go wrong, but she hadn’t bothered to think through what she was going to tell Shea. As little as possible, yes, but where was the line?
Shea looked up from the kitchen area when Annie walked inside. She was making a fresh pot of coffee. Annie wished she had something stronger.
“What’s wrong?”
“I need to ask you a favor.”
“Okay.”
Annie studied the woman she’d gotten too close to. “The picture you posted on the Sundance website, the one with me in it? I need you to take it down. Please.”
Shea didn’t react, not even a lift of her eyebrows. “All right,” she said calmly as she sat in front of Annie’s computer. Shea typed very quickly. Logging into the Sundance website, it took only a few clicks to find the photo and delete it.
Annie sighed with relief. “Did you put it up this morning?”
“No. Last night,” Shea said, returning to the desktop picture of the corral at sunset. “Late. Just before midnight.”
Twelve hours. Annie’s face had been freely available for twelve hours, but then the odds of someone from her past checking out the Sundance dude ranch website were miniscule. She didn’t think facial recognition had come far enough along to have identified her from her somewhat fuzzy profile. Still, the smart thing to do would be to get out. Now. Just in case. “Do you know how many hits that page had?”
Shea typed a bit more. “Eighteen.”
Eighteen wasn’t bad. Eighteen could be just folks from town and some of the guests.
“I won’t do that again,” Shea said. “I didn’t realize you disliked having your picture taken. I apologize.”
All Annie had to do was nod, and that would be that. Shea wouldn’t pry or tell anyone, with the possible exception of Jesse. They’d chalk it up to Annie’s reclusive ways.
But this was Shea, who had given her time, her skills, her money and her friendship without any expectations. She never overstepped, respecting Annie’s privacy in every way. Which would make leaving her in the dark the easiest thing ever.
The ache in Annie’s chest was no reason to talk, to say aloud the secrets she’d been holding close for so long. In her old life, she’d been anything but an introvert. And she’d never met a camera she hadn’t liked. “I used to be a professional fundraiser,” she said, and those few words, that small admission, revved up her heart rate again. Made her flush with heat and fear and relief.
Shea went to the coffeepot and took out two mugs from the cupboard above.
Annie closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. By the time Shea put both cups of coffee down, Annie felt ready to begin. “I was good at it. I liked the work, even after the economy tanked. I made raising money for good causes my personal crusade. Not just because I was paid to do it, but because I knew that even in the worst of times, when people donated it made them feel better.”
“Your effectiveness hasn’t diminished at all,” Shea said. “I can’t believe how fearless you are in approaching everyone you see and how favorably most of them respond.”
“People want to help. Well, most people.” Annie briefly closed her eyes. “There are also those who understand the motives behind charitable giving, and use that information to steal and destroy people’s faith and good intentions.”
“What are you saying?” Shea looked at her plainly, expecting the truth. She wasn’t naive, although some people mistook her manner for innocence.
“I worked with a partner who turned out to be one of the bad guys. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize he’d been embezzling funds until it was far too late to do anything.”
“Oh, Annie,” Shea whispered, and Annie had to turn away so she wouldn’t tear up.
“I had to leave my home. My everything.”
“Surely no one would believe you were involved. That’s ridiculous.”
“Oh, but they could.” Annie thought the bitterness had left her, but it still simmered inside. “I found out secondhand that one of my clients felt something wasn’t right and approached my partner. He wanted to withdraw the money from the fund and invest it himself. My partner gave him the runaround and the client went to the district attorney.”
She set her cup aside, rubbed her hands together, then down her jeans. The cabin was so small, there was no room to pace, but she couldn’t sit still. She pulled herself up until her butt was on the edge of the sturdy table she used for everything from sewing to eating, then began to squeeze the beveled wood with her hands.
“The story hit the papers with the allegation that my partner was responsible but I might be involved after the fact. It was only a matter of days before I’d be subpoenaed by the state to tell them what I knew. Unfortunately, that amounted to nothing. I was as shocked as anyone when I saw that money was missing. All of the investment profits had been siphoned off. The seed money was still there. I went to an attorney, a good friend from college, and he flat out told me that I’d better have something on my partner. With charities involved, he felt certain someone would go down, and it could very easily be me.”
Annie flexed her hands and tried to relax her body along with her speeding thoughts. She’d never intended to tell Shea so much. Only, she’d been holding on to her silence for so long it was easy to keep talking, to spill everything. But the next part...
The next part was hard to think about, let alone say out loud. Besides, she wanted Shea to continue working with Safe Haven. To continue being a friend. “I’m not proud of what I did, but all I could think to do was run.”
Shea sipped her coffee, clearly in thinking-things-through mode. When she looked at Annie again, her blue-gray eyes showed only concern. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. It must be horribly difficult. Do you have a large family?”
“Mom, Dad, my younger sister. I left them a letter explaining so they wouldn’t think I was dead. But I can’t call.”
“You must miss them.”
Annie sighed. “Every day.” She jumped down from the table and looked Shea in the eye. “Please, you have to keep this between us.”
“Of course.”
“Thank you.” Annie maintained eye contact, hoping Shea understood that meant not telling Jesse. “And thanks for taking down the picture without even asking why.”
Shea, who wasn’t a toucher, put her hand on Annie’s arm. “Whatever I can do to help, all you need is to ask.”
Annie wanted to hug her, but just nodded and led the way outside, remembering in the nick of time to get the bag of equine medication. Despite the chance someone from her past had seen her on the internet, she felt lighter than she had in years.
* * *
“I
INVITED
HIM
TO
COME
LIVE
here,” Irene said, just before she sipped her bourbon and sweet tea.
Tucker put down his fork. “What did he say?”
She sighed. “No.”
He wasn’t surprised. “He’s got a life in New York. Friends.”
“But we’re family.” Irene’s voice had gone rough, which wasn’t unusual however much he wished she could accept the situation.
“Christian needs time, Mom. It hasn’t been long since he found out his father refused to let you see him. Most of his life he thought you didn’t want him.”
“You stopped being angry ages ago, and Rory Andrews stayed away from you out of spite.”
“I had Dad. And you. I was lucky. Christian only had Rory and whatever stories he made up.” Funny how Tucker never thought of Rory as being related, much less his biological father. His hazy memory of the man didn’t even seem real, more like a fictional character in a story Tucker had read as a kid.
“You know I wanted to keep both of you.” She took another drink, and this time it wasn’t a mere sip. Soon she’d ask him for a refill, and he’d give her one. The drinking wasn’t a problem, though it could head that way if she wasn’t careful.
But how could he blame her? Tucker’s own guilt weighed on him, and he’d been a child during the divorce. Was that the reason his desire to find Leanna Warner had become a borderline obsession? Why he’d been tempted to go early, to hell with his commitments?
No, he had to play it smart. He’d already baited the hook by suggesting the possibility of a large donation to Safe Haven. He’d put time between the email he sent and the day he was to arrive. She wouldn’t be suspicious because no one looking for her would give her that much time to run. She’d accept that he was exactly who he claimed to be—a rep for a benevolent foundation.
All he had to do was be patient, observant and ready to take her down.
* * *
W
ELL
PAST
MIDNIGHT
, T
UCKER
stretched his neck before he looked again at the papers he’d spread over the desk in his bedroom. Every one of them related to Leanna Warner, and every one of them intrigued him in a way that was keeping him awake despite his exhaustion.
She didn’t quite add up. Her parents had been and continued to be social climbers. Joseph Warner was an attorney who’d worked for one of the most prestigious firms in New York, but he’d never made partner. His wife was an assistant manager at a design firm, again, second tier, but living among the elite.
According to Christian, Leanna had fit in so well with the wealthy young Manhattan scions and entrepreneurs that he’d been shocked to find out that she was a fundraiser. When he’d looked closer, though, he’d seen that her “designer” clothes and accessories were clever knockoffs. It was her personality and flair that let her get past all the normal barriers.