Keeping Christmas Part 7

He was going the wrong way to get back to Townsend.

But he didn't care because whether he liked it or not, he needed to know what he was dealing with before he went any further.

Dixie was frowning, chewing on her lower lip, eyes angry slits. But there was also a hurt in her expression that bothered him like a sliver just under his skin.

What if she was telling the truth?

He reminded himself that lying ran in some families like freckles or high cheekbones. Dixie Bonner came by her lying genes honestly enough. And Bonner had gotten proof from the kidnappers. "The kidnappers mailed your father your locket."

Her hand went to her throat. She seemed surprised to find her locket gone. Or was that, too, part of the act?

"You telling me someone took it from around your neck without you knowing about it?" he asked, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"I would imagine they took it while I was knocked out after they abducted me in Texas. I've been a little too distracted to have noticed since then."

He turned to stare at her. "You were abducted in Texas and brought to Montana?"

"Not exactly."

He groaned inwardly, still debating the best place to take her as she told him a story of being attacked in a parking garage in Houston, knocked out, waking up in the trunk of her car in her garage to hear the men ransacking her house, and then miraculously getting away.

"Wow, that's some story," was all he could say when she finished. He felt her gaze on him and looked over to see her big baby blues br.i.m.m.i.n.g in tears.

She made an angry swipe at them. "d.a.m.n you, what about that don't you believe?"

He didn't know where to start. Surely Bonner had gone to check his daughter's house. Wouldn't he have mentioned if the house had been ransacked? "So how exactly did you get away?"

She eyed him as if she thought he was just humoring her. And when he thought she wasn't going to tell him, she changed her mind and did.

He listened as she told a harrowing tale of how she had narrowly escaped from the trunk, leaving him torn between disbelief and distress at the thought that this really could have happened to her.

"I didn't know what to do. I just knew I had to get out of Texas. I needed help, but mostly I needed someone I could trust." She let out a sarcastic laugh.

He shot her a look, thinking that was pretty sad if true. Was there really no one in Texas she felt she could trust to help her? At the same time, he was touched that she'd come to him. Just as it made him suspicious of her motives.

She glanced out the side window, turning quickly back his way and sliding down a little in her seat.

Past her, he caught sight of a dark gray SUV at a side street. Had she thought it was the black car for a minute? Is that why she'd reacted the way she had?

He took the road out of town and saw her glance back then sit up a little straighter. In his rearview mirror, he saw that there was no one behind them as they left White Sulphur Springs. No dark gray SUV.

He glanced at Dixie, unable to shake the feeling there was more she was keeping from him. "Wouldn't most women have gone to the police the moment they escaped?"

"I don't know what most women would have done," Dixie said, an edge to her voice. "I'm not most most women. I'm the daughter of Beauregard Bonner, remember? That comes with its own rule book. I just know what women. I'm the daughter of Beauregard Bonner, remember? That comes with its own rule book. I just know what I I did under those circ.u.mstances." did under those circ.u.mstances."

He said nothing.

"Obviously you have no idea how much power my father now wields in Texas," she said. "And it seems his power extends all the way to Montana, given how easily he bought you."

Chance ground his teeth, checked his rearview mirror-and let out a curse as he spotted a car coming up way too fast behind them. The dark gray SUV.

Chapter Six

Mason Roberts was waiting for Beau in his office. As Beau stepped in and closed the door, Mason turned from where he stood at the window looking out.

"You have the best view in the entire building," he said in answer to Beau's unasked question as to what he was doing in the boss's office. Mason knew him too well, antic.i.p.ating that he would come back here rather than go to that huge empty house alone.

"It's not a bad view," Bonner agreed, even though he knew the view had nothing to do with why Mason was waiting for him.

"Is everything all right?" Mason asked as he moved to the bar to make them both a drink as he always did.

Beau took a seat behind his desk. Mason had lived down the road and been like family since they were kids, both going their own ways for a while, but ending up back in Texas. Beau had offered his old friend a job and Mason, who was as smart as anyone when it came to money, had taken it.

"Why wouldn't everything be all right?" Beau asked, wondering what Mason had heard.

"Dixie?" Mason asked, turning from the bar with a gla.s.s in each hand.

Bonner took the Scotch Mason offered him. He didn't need any more to drink today but he never turned down Scotch-especially the good stuff he kept stocked in his office.

He was tired, worn out and discouraged. This wasn't the way it should have been. He was rich, d.a.m.n it. He'd always thought that once he had enough money all his troubles would just fade away. Even those from the past.

"Dixie?" he repeated, pretending he didn't know what Mason was getting at.

"She up to her usual?" Mason asked.

So Mason had heard. "I'm afraid so, but I have it covered." He downed the drink, avoiding his friend's gaze as he let the alcohol warm him to his toes.

"If there's anything I can do...."

Mason had been running interference for him since they were kids. His friend seemed to be waiting for Beau to tell him what was really going on.

Not this time. "It's a family matter."

Mason winced as if Beau had hit him and Beau realized belatedly that he'd hurt his feelings. "You know what I mean. Just my daughter being Dixie." Beau put down his gla.s.s and rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.

Chance would find Dixie and, with any luck, she would be flying home in time for Christmas. He would talk to her. Explain everything. Dixie was smart. She could be made to understand.

Then they would have a nice Christmas like a normal family. But even as he thought it, Beauregard Bonner knew the chance of having a normal Christmas was out of his grasp. Dixie had made certain of that.

CHANCE WATCHED THE CAR behind him coming up fast. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Dixie's expression as she turned in her seat to look back again.

"How many people did you say were after you?" he asked as the dark gray SUV bore down on them.

Not surprisingly, she didn't answer, but he noticed that she'd slid down again in the seat as if she didn't want to be seen.

He swore, determined to get her somewhere and to get the truth out of her. More and more he was convinced the earlier scene at the museum had been staged, that the guys in the black car were in on whatever was going on and that he was a p.a.w.n in all this. So who was in the dark gray SUV?

The driver closed the distance and Chance saw what appeared to be a single occupant in the car.

He still held out hope that the driver might not even be someone interested in them at all. Maybe even someone who didn't want to run them off the road or shoot at them. Could be just some kid driving his parents' SUV too fast.

Unfortunately he'd seen the way Dixie acted after spotting the vehicle the first time. The SUV filled his rearview mirror just an instant before he heard the blare of the horn and the driver roared around him, pulling alongside as if to pa.s.s on the two-lane. But, of course, didn't.

"Get down!" Chance yelled to Dixie as he braced himself for some defensive driving if not some defensive ducking in antic.i.p.ation of the barrel end of a weapon pointed in his direction.

Instead the driver was waving frantically for him to pull over.

Was the guy nuts?

The driver laid on his horn again, waving wildly and pointing-not at Chance. But at what little could be seen of Chance's pa.s.senger.

Chance shot a look at Dixie. She had slid down some more, one hand on her forehead, the other resting on Beauregard, her face turned away as if pretending this wasn't happening.

"You know this guy?" Chance demanded.

OLIVER LANCASTER was having a bad day. He'd gone to lunch after running into Ace and come back into the office hoping to find a way to get another twenty-five thousand together.

He'd cleaned out every reserve he had, including his children's college funds. Not that he wasn't going to replace the money. He had to before Rebecca found out and went postal over it. Or worse, went to her father.

This deal was taking too long. He'd gone from nervous to scared. Everything was riding on it paying off the debts he'd incurred before anyone knew about them.

But Ace needed another twenty-five thousand.

And Oliver not only didn't have it, he wasn't sure he could even sc.r.a.pe that much together. He'd borrowed money on everything he owned, including the house that Beau had purchased for them as a wedding present.

Oliver was starting to sweat just thinking about it. He couldn't go to Beau for the twenty-five grand. Or Carl, not after that impromptu visit from his wife's uncle this morning. Carl had come by to give him some speech about being a better husband to Rebecca. What the h.e.l.l had that been about?

Like any of this was Carl's business.

But it had still scared Oliver because it must mean that even her uncle Carl had noticed that Rebecca hadn't been happy lately. Great. Oliver did not need this on top of everything else.

He'd promised Carl he'd make every effort to be a better husband. So going to Carl now for money was definitely out.

Even if Beau hadn't been in Montana, Oliver couldn't ask him for the money. As Carl had said, Beau had a lot on his mind. He was under enough stress without having to worry about Rebecca.

Carl had made him promise also not to let any problems between Oliver and his wife become something else that Beau had to worry about.

What an a.s.s the man was.

The only reason Oliver had made the stupid promises was to get rid of the man. He'd been expecting a call from Ace and the last thing he needed was Uncle Carl getting wind of the deal he had going with Ace. Ace Bonner was the family outcast. For sure Carl wouldn't have approved of that a.s.sociation even if Beau was helping Ace get back on his feet.

It was odd, though. Carl had mentioned the stress Beau was under and Mason had said something about how Beau seemed to be making bad decisions, losing some of his edge, and had hinted that maybe it was time for Beau to retire as president of Bonner Unlimited and let someone...younger take over.

Since Oliver was the youngest of the bunch, he'd a.s.sumed Mason was trying to tell him something. With Beau out of the way... Well, the possibilities were unlimited.

But until then...

"I can't take this any longer," Oliver said to his empty office. He needed to get out of here, go to the club for a few drinks and try to win the twenty-five thousand. Maybe his luck would change. h.e.l.l, maybe he could win a bundle.

He touched his intercom and informed his secretary he'd be leaving for the day. But as he started around his desk he heard his private office door open.

"Oliver?"

d.a.m.n.

"Beau," Oliver said, forcing himself to sound glad to see his father-in-law. Just his luck.

"I ASKED YOU if you knew this guy?" Chance repeated as the SUV stayed right with them and the man behind the wheel continued to motion for Chance to pull over.

Dixie leaned forward to do a quick glance across the dog and him to the driver of the SUV. "He doesn't look familiar."

Chance looked over at the driver of the SUV again. The guy appeared really upset now, having seen Dixie look over at him. He was mouthing something Chance couldn't make out. But it wasn't as if the guy was trying to tell him that he had a taillight out or a tire going flat.

No, this guy was angry. And he seemed to be spewing all that venom in Dixie's direction. He hadn't tried to kill her, though. Apparently he just wanted to talk to her.

As they came around a curve, Chance looked up and swore. A semi-truck was approaching in the SUV's lane and a rancher on an old tractor was puttering along dead ahead in Chance's lane.

In a split second of insanity, Chance tromped on the gas pedal, zooming ahead of the SUV and forcing the driver to drop back behind him. With the speedometer climbing, Chance swerved between the farmer on the slow-moving tractor and the semi barreling toward him in the opposite lane.

The semi blew by with a half dozen cars backed up behind it on the two-lane an instant later.

Chance heard Dixie let out a held breath. He checked his rearview mirror. Just as he'd hoped, the SUV driver had been forced to come to a crawl behind the tractor as the semi and the line of cars pa.s.sed.

Chance had bought himself a little time.

He glanced over at Dixie. She looked pale but relieved. He caught her glancing in her side mirror and chewing at her lower lip. What the h.e.l.l was going on with her? He hated to venture a guess, but one thing was certain. There were definitely people after her.

But to kill her?