J.D. caught her just outside the door and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her the way he’d wanted to from the moment he saw her with that lamp in her hand at Max’s apartment. An electricity danced between them. Her body felt as wonderful as he’d expected it would. But nothing prepared him for the sweet taste of her or the desire that swept through him as they kissed. All the memories of the past melded with the present, shocking him with one simple earthshaking fact: he’d never felt this way about a woman before. They both stumbled back from the kiss. Denver looked as dazed as he felt.
“And what was that all about?” she demanded, her voice as shaky as his knees.
“I just wanted to kiss you,” he answered truthfully.
She nodded as if she’d expected as much from him. “Answer one other question then. Where did you get the money to go to California nine years ago?”
He knew where this had come from. Pete.
“Did Max give you money?” she asked, her eyes begging him to say no.
J.D. looked her in the eye. “Yes.”
“And you made a deal with him that you would never come back into my life, right?”
“Denny, you were just a kid when I left.”
“I see.” She started to turn away from him.
He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him again. “No, you don’t see. But you’re going to.” He led her to his pickup. “Get in. And this time, Denny, don’t argue.”
With a regal air, she climbed into the cab, slamming the door behind her. He joined her from the driver’s side. The neon of the Stage Coach Inn sign flickered across the windshield. He could hear her angry breathing and feel his own pulse accelerate out of fear. He’d found Denny again and he didn’t want to lose her.
“I did take money from Max,” he said. “He offered it to me to give me a start. I later paid it back with interest. But there was no deal.” He touched her shoulder, her heat rushing through his fingers and into his blood. The effect this woman had on him!
“Max obviously wanted you out of town as badly as you wanted to go.” He heard what could have been a laugh—or a sob—come from her. She turned her face toward the side window away from him.
“Denny, all I ever promised Max was that I’d never hurt you. He just wanted you to be happy,” he said, his hand gently rubbing her shoulder. “And he knew that couldn’t happen if you quit school and took off with me. I had nothing to offer you. I didn’t even know where I’d be sleeping or eating or—” His laugh was low and self-deprecatory. “No, the big thing was, I didn’t know if I had talent. I was betting everything on a talent I wasn’t even sure existed. I couldn’t have asked you to go with me even if we hadn’t been kids, even if—” she turned to look at him “—you’d been in love with me?”
He felt her gaze warm his face and he smiled wryly. “I was too full of myself to know how I felt about anyone.”
Denver’s answering smile was as sad as the knowing look in her eyes.
“That day at the fire tower, I didn’t realize what you were offering me,” he said softly. “I do now.”
They sat in silence for long minutes. “It’s getting late,” she said. “I’d better get to Maggie’s.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“No.” She started to open the door, but he stopped her.
“Dammit, Denny, can’t we stop fighting each other?” She met his gaze and held it, the hurt in her eyes softening.
“I need to be alone to think,” she whispered.
He wanted to kiss her again right now. Her lips looked full and soft, her eyes shimmered, and it was all he could do not to take her in his arms. “You’d better get out of here before I kiss you,” he said.
She opened the pickup door, then leaned back in to kiss him. He grabbed her and pulled her into his arms. The first kiss had been sweet and stunning; this one started a fire in him he knew could never be put out. He drew her closer, pressing his lips and body to hers, feeling a bond that filled the holes in his heart.
She pulled away first. “I have to think,” she mumbled as she slipped out of the pickup.
He watched her go, surprised by what he found himself wishing for.
* * *
The night air mingled with memories. J.D. grinning at her, holding her, threatening to kiss her. Denver forced herself to relive those first few months after his sudden departure. The hurt that had holed up inside her for so long finally moved on. Her heart soared, a kite in a strong wind, flying high into the night, free. She felt tears sting her eyes as the memories overwhelmed her. Memories of J.D. and Pete and Max. They’d always been connected, always been part of the happiest time of her life. Growing up on the lake with Max and the boys. Loving J.D. for as far back as she could remember.
Had Max really been trying to buy J.D. off, or had he just wanted J.D. to have a chance at reaching his dream? Max had always been proud of him. And Max had always known how Denver felt about J. D. Garrison.
She stopped on Maggie’s steps recalling the kisses, the feel of his lips, the way her heart had pounded and her limbs had turned liquid. Just the touch of him made her insides ache. The night caressed her, clear and cold, while the dark velvet sky, splattered with a shower of silver as silver as J.D.’s eyes, smiled down on her. She breathed in the night air, savoring it the way she savored J.D.’s kisses. A laugh escaped her lips; she hugged herself, smiling. The past suddenly gave her a sense of peace. And the future?
J.D. still had a hold on her as strong as ever. He’d warned her not to trust him with her heart. What did he know that she didn’t? No, the future held no peace, only a restlessness that she knew wouldn’t end with the capture of Max’s killer. It wouldn’t end as long as J. D. Garrison had her heart. And she realized now that that would be forever.
Denver opened the door to find Maggie standing in the middle of a ransacked living room.
“Look what they’ve done,” Maggie cried. “What in God’s name was Max involved in?”
* * *
J.D. sat in his rented pickup down the street from the Stage Coach Inn waiting for Pete. He fought to quell his anger at Pete for lying about the reason why Max had given him money and why he’d taken it. Was there nothing Pete Williams wouldn’t do to keep Denny? What frightened J.D. was not knowing Pete’s motives. Was it only out of love for Denny? Or was he trying to hide his role in Max’s death? As much as J.D. had first fought the idea, he now considered Pete Williams a prime suspect.
The back door of the Stage Coach opened and Pete came out and climbed into his pickup. It was parked next to an old school bus. The entire bus had been painted black, including the side windows, and the name Montana Country Club had been slapped on the side in an array of colors. J.D. remembered a bus he’d driven during his early touring days that looked a lot like it. Instantly he felt guilty for his success.
J.D. waited, then fell in behind at a safe distance, following Pete north out of town. He wasn’t even a little surprised when Pete turned onto the Rainbow Point road. He was headed for Denny’s cabin. J.D. turned out his lights, letting the bright sky overhead keep him on the road between the tall lodgepole pines, probably much like Pete had done that night on his way to the shortcut road on Horse Butte.
J.D. parked at the edge of a snowbank, not far from where Pete had left his pickup, and followed, keeping the thin beam of Pete’s flashlight flickering through the trees ahead of him in sight. It took J.D. a moment to realize where Pete was headed—to the large tree house the three of them had built one summer when they were kids.
J.D. moved closer. The flashlight beam bounced with each step as Pete climbed up the makeshift ladder. Then the light went out for a moment as Pete disappeared inside the tree house. Through the cracks in the walls, J.D. saw the light come on again and heard Pete rummaging around, apparently searching for something.
J.D. sneaked to the bottom of the tree and climbed up as quietly as he could. As he reached the trapdoor, he wished he had a gun. He didn’t like guns. But right now, holding heavy, cold steel in his hand would have given him a real feeling of security. He slipped through the open trapdoor.
* * *
Denver helped Maggie clean up the house. Like hers, it hadn’t been ransacked as badly as Max’s office and apartment. Just enough to make her and Maggie both feel violated.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Denver asked after they’d finished. Maggie had built a fire in the fireplace and collapsed in front of it.
“I’m just mad now,” she said. “I want these people stopped.”
“I was hoping you’d say that. There’s someone I need to talk to—Lila Wade. She’s the woman Max was working for right before his death.”
“Yes, that’s the one who suspected her husband of cheating on her,” Maggie returned.
Denver explained what she and J.D. had discovered in the file, including the notation at the bottom. “I’m hoping Lila might be able to shed some light on it. Mind if I borrow your car? J.D. and I left my Jeep at the lake.”
“Of course not.” Maggie handed her the keys. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
Denver shook her head. “I don’t want her to feel like we’re ganging up on her.”
* * *
Pete stood over an old box that had once doubled as a bench, leafing through a manila file folder by flashlight. The smell of the old wooden tree house flooded J.D. with memories of the three of them and the club they’d formed to protect their treetop fort. Just kids. Silly kids.
“Interesting reading?” J.D. asked.
Pete jumped, the file folder snapping shut in his hands. “I thought you’d be with Denver.”
“Did you? Is that why you told her about Max giving me money?”
Anger showed in Pete’s eyes and in the tight set of his jaw. “You forced me to do that because you wouldn’t stay out of things. Your interference is causing me a lot of headaches.”
J.D. sighed, suddenly tired. And afraid. “What’s going on, Pete? I assume that’s the case file everyone’s been looking for. What’s so important about it?”
Pete glanced at the folder in his hands. “You don’t know how badly I need this. When I was talking to Denver tonight, she reminded me of the tree house.”
Max had hidden it where he thought Denny would find it. Had he forgotten about Pete? Or had he trusted Pete so much it got him killed? “There was a time when we were best friends, when we trusted each other,” J.D. said.
Pete gripped the file tighter. “That was before Denver fell in love with you and stayed in love with you.”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with Denny and me,” J.D. said, realizing it probably had more than he knew to do with them. “Let me see the file.”
Pete ran the back of his hand across his mouth. “I can’t do that.” His hand dropped to his jacket pocket.
J.D. swore as he stared at the pistol Pete pulled, then looked up at his friend’s face. “Tell me you didn’t kill Max.”
“Would it do any good?”
“I don’t believe you’re a murderer.”
“Why not? You already know I’m a liar.”
“But not a killer,” J.D. said with more confidence than he felt.
“Oh, I wouldn’t bet your life on that, old buddy,” Pete said, moving toward the trapdoor, the gun pointed at J.D.’s chest.
J.D. held his ground. “The name of Max’s murderer is in that file, isn’t it? Who are you protecting, Pete?”
“How do you know I’m not just protecting myself?” They stood only a few feet apart; J.D. could taste the tension between them. He estimated the distance and wondered whether he could reach Pete, take the gun away and not get either of them killed.
“Don’t do it, J.D. There’s been enough bloodshed.”
“If you care about Denny, tell me what’s in that file. She isn’t going to give up looking for Max’s killer and you know it.”
Pete swore. “Can’t you make her see how dangerous this is?”
“Just how dangerous is it, Pete?”
“It could get her killed.”
J.D. shook his head. “Turn the file over to Cline.”
Pete seemed amused by that idea. “Cline?” He glanced down at the folder. “This is about a lot more than just who killed Max, don’t you realize that? Stay out of it, old buddy. And keep Denver out.”
They stood staring at each other, across the years and the choices that separated them.
“Is that file worth dying over?”
Pete smiled. “Or killing over? Yes.” He edged toward the door. “If this landed in the wrong hands...” He shook his head. “Take care of Denver. I can’t protect her anymore. But don’t break her heart again, old buddy. Not again.” The gun leveled at J.D.’s heart, Pete stepped to the trapdoor and waited for J.D. to move so he could slip through it.
J.D. moved back, but at the last moment grabbed his arm. “Dammit, Pete, I can’t let you leave with the file.”
Pete shook off J.D.’s hold. “But the only way you can stop me is to take this gun away from me, and I can’t let you do that. Trust me on that, J.D.”
J.D. looked from the pistol to Pete’s face. Would Pete really shoot him? “Tell me I’m not a fool to trust you.”
Pete smiled, his eyes as blue as they’d been in his youth and just as hard to read. “Oh, you’re a fool, all right, J.D.,” he said, and dropped through the hole into the night.
J.D. stood in the tree house, praying he hadn’t made a fatal mistake.
* * *
Lila Wade answered the door of her doublewide trailer in a hot pink chenille robe and fuzzy bunny slippers. Most of her short brown hair was still trapped in curlers; some had escaped and stood on end, giving her a comical look.
“Yes?” she muttered, squinting as she held the door open.
Denver introduced herself.
“I know who you are.” Lila had partaken of at least a few beers this night. “What can I do for you?”
“I’d like to talk to you about my uncle,” Denver said, hoping they wouldn’t be forced to have this discussion on the front steps. “It will just take a moment.”
Lila made a face but opened the door wider for Denver to enter. “Lester’s going to be home soon, you know.”
Denver didn’t know. Lila motioned toward the couch, and Denver sat down, dropping deeper than she expected into the worn-out cushions. “I’m checking into some recent cases my uncle was working on before his murder.” She tried to work her way to the edge of the couch but gave up. “You hired him a few weeks ago to follow your husband.”
Lila let out a snort as she picked up a bottle of bright red fingernail polish and continued what Denver had obviously interrupted. “Don’t ask me why I did it. I was telling Clara—Clara Dinsley, you know her—”
“She’s the beautician at ClipTop.”
Lila nodded, the polish brush dangling from her fingers. “I was telling her I thought that damned Lester was chipping around on me. And she suggested hiring Max. I guess she’d hired him once.” She waved that away as another story. “So I did. It was just plain silly. Lester with another woman! He can’t even handle the one he has.” She let out a brittle laugh as she screwed the lid down tight on the polish.
“Where was Lester those nights you thought he was with another woman?” Denver asked.
Lila’s face stiffened as if a mud mask she’d applied had suddenly dried. “Just foolin’ around with the boys. Drinkin’, stuff like that.” She got to her feet, careful not to touch her nails. “Lester will be home soon. I don’t want him finding you here.”
Denver nodded as she pushed herself out of the couch. “Well, thank you.”
“No problem. I hope I helped you some.” Lila closed the door behind her. Denver walked to Maggie’s car and, as she climbed in, turned to look back. She caught Lila peeking out the curtains. And she wondered just what Lester Wade had been doing those late nights. And why Lila had lied for him.
* * *
The call from California came just before J.D. showed up at Maggie’s door. It was from a member of his band who’d tired of leaving messages at the Stage Coach and was trying to track J.D. down. Denver took the message. She handed it to J.D. when he came in. It read:
I hope things are going better, that you’re writing some new songs, and that you’ve changed your mind. Hurry back.
J.D. read it, then crumpled the note and threw it into the fireplace. Denver saw the dark frustration in his eyes and doubted he’d written any new songs. He’d been too busy helping her. But what did “hope...you’ve changed your mind” mean?
“I understand if you have to go back—”
“You’d better get some sleep,” he said, cutting her off. “We have to be at Grayling Pass before daybreak. I’m going to spend the night here with you and Maggie just in case—”
She nodded and went down the hall to the linen closet to pull out sheets and blankets for him. “Can’t you tell me what it is, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” He turned his back to her and began making himself a bed on the couch with the bedding she handed him.
“Fine. Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s great.” She spun on her heel and started down the hall.
“Denny.”
She turned to find him silhouetted against the firelight.
“You don’t understand.” His voice, soft as a caress, tugged at her.
“No, I don’t,” she said, closing the distance between them. “Why don’t you tell me? It’s being here with me, isn’t it? It’s hurting your career.”
He let out an oath and took her shoulders in his hands. “It’s not you. It’s the songs. They’re gone.” He dropped his hold on her and moved over to the fire.
She stared at his back. “What do you mean they’re gone?”
“The music has been in my head ever since I can remember.” He turned to look at her. “Then one day, I woke up and it wasn’t there anymore. And I didn’t care.” His gaze met hers and held it. “Until I saw you again.”
She stepped into his arms and he held her. The fire crackled behind them.
“Go to bed,” he said softly, kissing the top of her head. “We need to get some rest.”
She nodded and moved away, knowing nothing she could say would erase the pain in his eyes. Behind her, she heard J.D. collapse on the couch.
She stopped in Maggie’s room to tell her good-night, then went into the guest room, stripped down and crawled into bed. For so long, her heart broken, she’d focused all her thoughts and energy on losing J.D. Now as she lay staring up at the ceiling, she felt only his hurt, his pain. If she followed her heart, she knew exactly where it would lead. To the man on the couch in the other room. She didn’t care where J.D.’s heart was headed. He needed her. While she wasn’t sure how to help him, as she drifted off to sleep, she promised herself when the time came, she’d be there for him.