Playing For Keeps (Montana Men) (12 page)

Concentrating on her driving, she tried to ignore the
burning and discomfort. Jayla whipped the car onto the entrance ramp of the
George Washington Memorial Parkway and headed south until she connected with
Interstate 66, then she turned the car west. West.

What the hell was out West for her?

Help?

Doubtful.

But if she was going to die
—
and she was pretty certain her time on Earth was limited,
then she wanted one last chance to ask Wild Remington for fo
rgiveness
for the wrong she’d done him. One last opportunity to explain why she’d lied
and sent him to prison for five years. He’d still hate her, and she wouldn’t
blame him, but at least her conscience would be cleared—sort of.

She pressed down on the accelerator.

West, it was—straight to another man who wanted to kill
her!

Chapter Eight

People don’t know me. They think they do,
but they don’t.

~
Andrew Cunanan

Rimrock, Montana

Blackstone Ranch

February 16, Monday

Nine hours before the assassination…

Smitt
Davis sat in the hayloft of Sheriff Danger Blackstone’s barn and stared down at
the white Ford extended cab pickup parked in the drive. Lacey darling was
inside that truck, probably a frightened little mouse terrified of her own
shadow.

He
toyed with a long-bladed knife he’d filched earlier from inside Danger’s house.
He imagined it was the same knife he’d used on Lacey. He smiled, pleased at the
thought that he’d left his marks on her.

Ah
yes, she’d be a timid little creature now, afraid for the rest of her life, he
thought with an air of certainty and smugness. And here he was, right here,
under all their noses, and they had no clue. A shaft of pleasure intensified
through his body. It jolted him like an electrical current buzzing through his
bloodstream. Just knowing they had no idea he was close enough to their perfect
worlds that he could snuff out their lives if he so desired, was almost as good
as an orgasm. Almost.

Oh, but he was even closer than they all knew. He was
inside their very homes, their lives, their minds. He’d destroyed Danger and Lacey
from within, in ways they hadn’t even learned of yet, but in time, they’d know.
Yeah, in time, they’d all know just how clever, how cunning Smitt Davis really
was.

The
sheriff and his ex-bitch might never have zoomed in on his radar if they hadn’t
discovered those bodies in the cave
—
his
women,
his
brides. He couldn’t abide Danger’s interference, so he’d sought
revenge, and oh how he’d enjoyed every precious moment he’d tortured Lacey
darling.

Yeah.
He might be down, still recovering from the gunshot wounds that bitch Kaycee
Remington had plugged him with, but he wasn’t out by any means. No siree, he
was just getting his second wind. He’d be back, all in good time, and he’d
strike when they least expected it.

His
body hurt like a sonofabitch from that freakin’ tumble down the cliff, but his
cock still got hard, like now. Like most all the time. Like every time he
thought of the women he’d fucked, carved with his
knife and killed. That Remington bitch
—
Queen Jillian
—
now she’d been fun. For a woman who’d
screw a snake, she’d
squealed like a little stuck pig every time he
poked his wick in her and spilled his love juice.

Course,
her screaming might have had more to do with the fact that every time he humped
her and howled
his release, he sliced another piece off her
—
a fingertip, a bit of ear, or a sharp
bite on her tits. Inflicting pain enhanced his ejaculation, and Jillia
n
was one woman he’d enjoyed torturing. There’d been so much pleasure to be had
carving her up like a slab of meat.

The
thought of getting his rocks off while torturing some snooty highfalutin’ bitch
always raised his cock. And oh, he’d loved inflicting pain on Lacey darling,
too. He’d savored every single moment he’d had with her, was able to take his
time, because he’d known her ex-husband, the hot-shot sheriff wasn’t coming
home anytime soon.

No,
the sheriff had been too busy fucking another woman to interrupt
his
plans.

Oh
the fun he’d had with Lacey Blackstone. She thought she’d escaped her fate.
They all believed her safe now. No way was she evading him so easily. She’d
never be safe as long as he drew breath.

In
the meantime, silent as a cat, wary as an injured wolf, he took his pleasure
stalking the unsuspecting. He waited, always in the shadows of their lives, a
malevolent, unseen presence, until he was ready to be seen. And like a mean-ass
rattler, when the time was right, he’d strike and sink his fangs deep.

Again.

Smitt
watched the tall man place some boxes inside the truck. The man stood eyeing
the sleeping woman, a tender expression on his sappy face. Fucker. He hated
this new man in Lacey darling’s life. He acted as if he owned her, but Lacey
darling belonged to
him.

Daringly,
Smitt pushed the weather-beaten planked window open a little more. He wasn’t
afraid of getting caught. Few people looked up. They looked around, in front
and behind them, but rarely did they look up. Besides, the deep shadows
concealed him, and there was nothing unusual about an aged board window blowing
open on an old barn.

Smitt
snickered. So the Sheriff of Rimrock had lost his sweet little woman to another
man. Glory be! Smitt had thought his challenge lay in taking Lacey darling away
from the dangerous sheriff, but now—
Oooh-wee
,
this new man in her life looked a lot tougher, meaner, and more dangerous. A challenge.
Oh yeah, he’d have to show the big man exactly who owned sweet Lacey.

Smitt
rubbed his aching cock behind the zipper and moaned. He needed her. He needed
to sink his hard shaft inside her and fuck her until he couldn’t think
straight. His Lacey darling was there, so close, so close, he smelled her. He
moaned, savoring his memories of her and how her body had soothed the beast
within his own. There, inside the truck, the engine idled, keeping her all warm
and snuggly and yummy. Oh, he could do a number on her right there. No-no-
no! Patience. He had to remember patience.

He
breathed deep, his chest rising and falling in hard, fast pants. His body
quickened with need. The cold no longer touched him. Instead, he was surrounded
by a nebulous warmth. The memory of her delicious taste heated his blood. His
body burned white-hot. His cock throbbed urgently. His balls tightened,
squeezing to the point it felt like a thousand needles jabbed his flesh.

Unzipping his pants, Smitt released his brick-hard dick
and stared at the engorged tip. Slowly, he worked the firm length in a familiar
rhythm, pretending he was buried deep inside Lacey darling’s warm, sweet pussy.
“Yes! Faster. Harder! Sweet, sweet, Lacey, I’m coming for you, darling Lacey.
Oooh
, yeah, coming for you. Coming for
you…
ahhhhh.”

His seed spurted onto the hay in four thick globs, then
dribbled from his cock for several more seconds. Such a waste. He’d much rather
come inside Lacey’s hot snatch or between her tits again. Oh, but he would.
Soon. He promised himself both special treats. Very soon, he’d feel her bucking
beneath his plowing cock. He’d come hard inside her and leave his little
swimmers racing to her baby carriage. He’d give her another baby to take the
place of the one he’d destroyed. Yeah, the next baby in her would belong to
him.

Lacey darling was the only woman to ever escape him,
except for Kaycee Remington, but he no longer counted her. He hadn’t managed
yet to get as far with the lovely Kaycee as he had the sheriff’s wife. Yum.
He’d touched Lacey’s sweet pussy, even tasted it.

There wasn’t an inch of her he hadn’t licked, bit, or
touched. Smitt grinned. He’d played with her like a cat plays with a mouse,
cutting her and using his toys on her until she’d begged him to kill her. He’d
licked and sucked her tits. He’d come on her,
for
her, enough times his balls had finally softened and his dick
had swung long and relaxed.

Yes, Lacey darling had bled for him. Oh, how she’d bled
for him. She’d cried, begged, and pleaded, but he did exactly what he wanted to
do to her. He still felt the pleasure of the sharp-edged knife slicing across
her soft belly, the thrill of the first cut, the power it gave him. Over and
over, he’d cut her, buzzing with pure pleasure at the sight of her warm, red
blood flowing so freely. She belonged to him. He wanted her back, and he wanted
her fat with his baby.

Furious, Smitt watched the man get inside the truck and
take off with Lacey darling. Panic lodged in Smitt’s throat like a big old
goose egg. He clenched his fists, livid that once again, his Lacey darling made
good her escape from him.

Where were they going?

Where was the big man taking
his
woman?

Smitt Davis swore violently. “The fucker’s gonna pay for
taking what belongs to me.” He tucked his flaccid cock behind his zipper and
curled into a tight ball on his scratchy bed of hay. Sucking on his lower lip,
he thought of all the different ways he’d torture Lacey darling when he got his
hands on her again. “I’m coming for you, Lacey. Soon. There’s no escape. I promise.”

For the time being, he was safe, safe and warm enough.
There was another woman inside Lacey’s home now, another woman sleeping with
Lacey’s ex-husband. His lips curved with satisfaction. His heart beat fast. His
pulse soared. He’d fuck the woman soon. Real soon. Right there in the sheriff’s
house, in the sheriff’s bed, he was going to screw Danger’s new bride.

His instant arousal was both painful and surprising.
Ooo,
this was exciting. He’d fuck the
sheriff’s new woman, right under the sheriff’s nose, and he’d come and come.
“I’m coming for you next, sweet Karen, just for you, and you’ll scream for me.”

Smitt closed his eyes.

He daydreamed about the sheriff’s pretty new wife, of what
he intended to do to her when the time came. Inevitably, boredom set in and his
thoughts returned to Lacey. “I’m coming for you, Lacey darling. Real soon. This
time, I’ll finish what I started.”

Chapter Nine

The Path of Love brings both ecstasy and
suffering, with spiritual lessons to be learned from each...

~John Lennon

Washington D.C.

The White House

February 16, Monday

Forty-five minutes after the assassination…

Samantha
Rivers cut off the Garth Brooks hit,
If
Tomorrow Never Comes,
by the simple act of answering her cell phone on its
first ring. “Flayme? What’s up? Did Jayla make it there yet?
Ooh,
I’m so anxious to get out of here.
Leaving in five minutes, I swear. Tell Jayla I’ll be there in thirty, weather
permitting.”

“Sam!
Shut up! And listen.”

Sam
jerked the phone away from her ear and scowled. Her unflappable secretary, who
barely raised an eyebrow when things got hairy, just screamed in her ear.
“What’s wrong?”

“Someone…tried…t–to…kill
me.”

“What?”
Sam exclaimed. “When? Where?”

“Few…minutes
ago, inside th–the building. Our flo–floor. Fly–flying bullets, broken glass.
I–I’m afraid thi–things are a bit of a–a mess. Your favorite…picture…
broken…gunman…shot it.”

“Calm
down, Flayme. You’re in shock. You’re not making sense. Are you shot?”

“N–no.”

Samantha
sighed and allowed the tension to drain out of her neck and shoulders. “Okay.
Where’s Jayla?”

“Not…sure.
Oh, God, Sam, sh–she might be de–dead. I left her there…wit–with th–the
gunman.”

Sam
swore she heard Flayme’s teeth bump together. “Where are you?” The woman was
obviously distressed, but Sam still had no clear idea what had happened.

“Headed…home.”

“No!
Don’t go there.” Static filled the airwaves. “Flayme? Are you there?” No
answer.
“Shit!”
Sam flipped the top
down on her phone and shoved it inside her evening bag. She turned to search
the crowd for Travis and Duel. Of course they were nowhere in sight.

She
wormed her way past waiters carrying trays with glasses of golden champagne.
Yep. She’d only thought this nightmare evening was behind her. Lord, she had a
bad feeling it was just getting started.

In
spite of Flayme’s terrified phone call, Sam wondered how much longer she could
delay answering Travis’ last question.
Is
Hayley my daughter?
He’d let her walk away without demanding an answer, but
she knew him. Travis was like a bulldog once he sank his teeth in something.
He’d scratch and dig until he got the answers he wanted. It was only a matter
of time, and if he saw—Sam broke off that thought, or tried to, but it wouldn’t
go away. Travis hadn’t seen Hayley since she was a newborn in the hospital when
he came to visit. If he saw her now, he’d know the answer to his question.
Hayley was a little clone of her father.

Somehow,
she had to keep Travis out of their lives.

She
spotted the two men in the crowd and approached them with a feeling of doom.
Surely the evening had to get better—didn’t it? “Hey guys,” she called softly.
“We’ve got problems.”

* * * *

Duel
Remington whipped the black Porsche in the snow-covered driveway of Flayme
Jansen’s home and muttered a curse. What a mucked-up evening this had turned into.
Damn it! As if this night hadn’t been bad enough covering the first lady’s butt
while she made whoopee, now Sam had sent him on a rescue mission.

He didn’t mind rescue missions when they fell within the
scope of his job description, but rescuing little old blue-haired ladies with
vivid imaginations didn’t fall under that category. Angie, Mac’s ex-secretary,
came to mind. He knew it wasn’t an accurate assumption, but in his experience,
all secretaries were either salt-and-pepper gray or blue-haired—so far. And
little old blue or white-haired ladies tended to frighten easily, but they also
possessed a wealth of stubbornness.

What
if she wouldn’t leave with him?

After
racing across town in this freak blizzard, oh yeah, she was coming with him if
he had to sling her brittle bones over his shoulder and carry her out. He
pictured her whacking him across the head and shoulders with an umbrella, or a
big leather suitcase of a purse. Fragile bones that snapped too easy. He thrust
fingers through his hair.
Little old
ladies!
“Please don’t let me injure her.”

But
Sam had said bring her secretary to her office. Okay, so he’d bring her to
Sam’s office, but he didn’t have to like it. And what the hell kind of name was
Flayme?

Who
in their right mind named their child Flayme?

Duel
pushed open the car door and jerked when his cell phone blasted with Martina
McBride’s powerful voice announcing
Independence
Day
. He fished it out of his pocket and punched the button. “What’s going
on, Sam?”

“Are
you at Flayme’s yet?”

“Pulling
in the drive now.”

“Is
she home?”

“Doesn’t
look like it. The house is dark. You didn’t tell me it has two stories.”

“I
didn’t know. When you go in, you’ll have to search both floors.”

“Sam
—
”

“I’m sorry, of course, you know that. I’m not thinking
rationally. I’m worried about her. It’s a mess here on our floor. Five guards
dead. We discovered their bodies hidden behind a Dumpster. There’s a pool of
blood near the
elevators. I don’t know if it’s Jayla’s or Flayme’s. I think
—
”

“What?
Jesus
fucking Christ, I don’t believe this. I’m in the house.”

“How did you get in?”

“Walked
in.
Hell, her front door wasn’t locked.”

“Be careful. Flayme always locks her doors.”

“I’m off here.”

“Wait! If you find her, don’t bring her here. Take her
somewhere safe.”

“Where?” Impatience laced his voice. Right now, he was
operating on nothing but strung-out nerves and reserve energy.

“I don’t know,” Sam continued. “It’s an awful nightmare.
You know whose head this is gonna fall on.”

“What are you talking about, Sam? Has something else
happened, besides your office wing getting shot up and the guards murdered?”

“Oh, shit. You don’t know. Molly’s dead.”

Duel felt his heart grab. Except for a low hiss, utter
silence filled the airway. Slowly, he dragged air into his burning lungs. “Jesus
Christ.” The strangled words pushed past the knot in his throat. “How? When?”

“A bullet in the head. I don’t have the details. I got the
news just before Travis and I arrived here. I imagine Jayla and Flayme have
somehow managed to get embroiled in this fiasco.”

“Jayla?
You
talking about Jayla Ross? What does she have to do with this?”

“Molly was murdered at the Ambassador
.
Jayla lives there. The Secret Service is all over this. But since
our group was the last one to see Molly alive, they’ve agreed, albeit
unwillingly, to send over a copy of the hotel’s security tape, if I share
certain information with them.”

Duel snorted. “You aren’t falling for that o
ne
—
”

“No. I’ll make up something, just as they will. They’re
going to watch it first and I know they’ll edit what they don’t want me to see.
I’ll edit my version of things as well. But they already told me the desk clerk
saw Jayla arrive around eleven. I don’t know what they’re basing their report
on, or if they’re telling me the truth, but they think Jayla was in the
elevator with Molly when the first lady was shot.
”

“What? Fuck! That woman has always been trouble.”

“Which one?”

“Jayla. She has a history with my family.”

“Really? She never told me.”

“No, I don’t imagine she did. What’s her connection to you?”

“Best friend.”

“Damn. Okay. Where do you want me to take this little old
lady of yours?”

“Little old lady?” A lengthy pause.
“Ahh,
you mean my secretary? Hmm, that could be a problem. Take her
out of the Washington area.”

“Jesus. What a pain in the ass.”

“Again, which one?” Sam asked with a touch of acerbic
humor in her voice.

“Jayla Ross.”

“She didn’t do anything wrong, except be in the wrong
place at the wrong time.”

“Don’t bet on it. That woman has a knack of always being
in the wrong place at the wrong time, and involved in lies up to her beautiful
neck. Did you consider the possibility she’s involved in Molly’s death?”

Sam gasped. “Of course not, Jayla isn’t a murderer.”

Duel growled through his teeth. “The Remingtons dealt with
her and her lies a long time ago. She’s trouble. Always has been.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“And she’s your best friend? You don’t know her, Sam, not
the
real
Jayla Ross.”

“Yes, well, whichever Jayla you think it is, the real one
I know and love like a sister, or the phony you claim she is, this time both
are in way over their heads.” Sam sighed. “Look, I’ll deal with Jayla. You get
Flayme somewhere safe. Take her and disappear. Check back with me in two days.
Call my cell. It’s the only safe phone.”

“Honey, there’s no such thing as a safe phone,” Duel said
dryly. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to wait so long before I check in with
you.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to call, period.”

“Okay. You’re the boss. If you don’t hear from me in two
days, assume the worst, but I’ll be headed into bad weather, anything could be
the worst. I’ll try to get word to you if I need your help.”

“Duel!”

“Yo?”

“Be careful. This stinks to high heaven. I know you think
Jayla is somehow more involved than what is on the surface
—
”

“Honey, if Jayla was at the scene, she’s more involved.
The woman is a walking, talking jinx.”

“Maybe so, but I haven’t
seen that side of her
—
”

“I have.”

Sam let out a deep, audible breath. “I think this is going
to be bad. There’s something very big going on. I fear we’re all caught smack
in the middle of it, and it’s only the beginning.”

“Yes? Well I hope this time Jayla doesn’t drag my brother
into whatever mess she’s in. She nearly destroyed him seven years ago. Let’s be
clear about this, Sam, so there’s no misunderstanding. I won’t stand by and
watch her hurt Wild again.”

“Duel
—
”

“I mean it, Sam. You above all others know I know how to
make a person disappear.”