Two
Montana
How had my life come down to two suitcases and three boxes? I sat on the edge of the bed in the cheap motel room I’d had Melody—one of Momma’s closest friends—drop me off at in Jackson, Mississippi. I had sold my and Momma’s cars to put toward the bills, along with the house. Melody had been letting me sleep on the sofa in her living room. There was no extra money left to get an apartment of my own.
Momma might not have batted an eye at dropping big bills on a pair of shoes or a purse, but she hadn’t wanted to spend much on good health insurance, and her medical bills were going to take me until I was middle-aged to pay them off. I had to get my high school diploma, and I’d applied last summer for college scholarships. The University of Louisiana Monroe had given me a full scholarship into their nursing school program. That had been my plan until the anonymous letters started showing up the day after Momma’s funeral. Small, blue, and folded into origami hearts. Now, I didn’t know if I could ever go back to Monroe, Louisiana.
Staring down at the phone in my hand, I chewed on my bottom lip.
Yesterday, I’d woken up to a new blue heart-shaped letter on the coffee table beside the sofa I’d slept on. Faced with the terror that the writer of these letters had gotten into Melody’s house without anyone knowing and watched me sleep, I gave in and called the number Momma had left for me. The one she’d said would go directly to the man who had helped create me.
I hated calling him Father because he’d never been that. The last time he’d come to see us, I’d been ten years old. His visits had started to dwindle the older I got, but Momma said it was because she’d gotten older. The closer she inched to thirty, the less interested he was. She said he liked them young.
When I was thirteen, Momma told me he’d been elected as the governor of Mississippi. She doubted we’d ever see his face again, and she was right. Momma might take gifts from men, but she refused to ask for anything. She had left Jericho Baskin alone, and we had moved on with our lives.
Until now.
It had taken me hours to work up the nerve to call that number. I’d been literally nauseated over it, but the fear of staying in Monroe outweighed everything else. I just didn’t know who else to call. I couldn’t tell Melody. She’d have made me go to the police station, and in one of the letters, I’d been warned that telling the cops would cause something bad to happen to someone I cared about. Jericho Baskin was all I had. The absolute only option.
It was a good thing I’d had no illusions of fatherly affection. He was furious that I’d called him and asked for somewhere to stay. Like I’d expected, he told me no, but I was desperate. The kind of desperate that was fueled by sheer fear. So, I’d threatened him. I still couldn’t believe I’d done it.
“If you won’t help me, then I’ll go to the media and send your wife the paternity test you had Momma take when she was pregnant. Maybe even send her the picture I have of the three of us together on a picnic. I was three then. Remember that?”
He had gone silent, and my heart had been beating so hard that I wondered if he could hear it over the phone. Our standoff lasted for several moments. I wasn’t sure I’d even taken a breath during that time.
Until, finally, he’d replied, “Give me until tomorrow at noon. I need some time to make arrangements.” His gruff voice sounded defeated, and then he’d ended the call.
It was eleven now, and still, nothing from him. I’d told him where I was staying during the call, and he had to know that checkout was at noon.
Should I stay another day? Was he calling my bluff? If he didn’t call, where was I going to go?
My lack of sleep and the constant looking over my shoulder were starting to wear me down. But if he shut me out, I wasn’t going to call the media. And I’d burned that photo of the three of us the day my momma took her last breath.
He had a daughter. She was eight years old, and none of this was her fault. I wouldn’t ruin her life to save mine. But I did need somewhere to finish high school and be safe from whoever had written me those letters back in Monroe. If I could stay here until I graduated and then get a full-time job to save up enough money, I’d leave town and get my own apartment. At least, that was the only plan I had right now. It was what I’d told Jericho.
I picked at the frayed denim on one of the holes in my jeans. If Jericho didn’t call, then…
Three loud knocks on the door had me springing up from the bed while gripping the bedazzled pink Taser Momma had given me last year for Christmas. I had kept it close to me since finding that last blue note. My hand trembled as I held it out in front of me and stared at the door as if someone was going to break it down. Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm down and think.
Whoever had left me the notes never knocked on my door. Why would they do that now? I was being ridiculous. It was most likely the cleaning lady.
Lowering the Taser to my side, I walked over to look through the peephole. Which would have been the sane response in the first place. My fear was warping my logic. Going up on my tiptoes, I peeked outside.
It wasn’t a cleaning lady. My hand tightened on the Taser. men. One couldn’t be more than a few years older than me, but the other was older. Maybe his father. By the looks of them, I seriously doubted that stalking was something they did. Women most likely stalked them. And I’d bet money that neither of them had folded origami in their life.
“Montana.” The older one said my name, and I sucked in a breath.
They didn’t have the wrong room. They were here for me.
I cleared my throat, deciding not to open the door just yet.
“Yes,” I replied loud enough so that he could hear me.
“I’m Linc Shephard, and this is Than Carver. Your father sent us to pick you up.”
Jericho had sent them? They didn’t seem like men who worked for the governor. Nor could either of them be the writer of the letters. Stalkers who looked like that were only on Netflix shows and in romance novels.
Should I open the door?
It will be fine , I assured myself. I had my Taser. There was a busy street out there. It was daylight. It wasn’t like they would grab me and run. Why would they do that anyway? My imagination was a product of little sleep, crazy stalker notes, and watching too much crime television.
I reached up and unlocked the chain, then the bolt before I took the cold metal knob in my hand and turned it. Taking a deep, calming breath, I stepped back as I pulled it toward me. And…wow. They were even more impressive without the smudged peephole.
The briefest glance at the younger man sent an odd, tingly feeling through my body. Surprised by the reaction, I swung my eyes to the older man, who had introduced himself as Linc Shephard.
“Wh-where does he want me to go?” Please don’t be taking me to the bus station.
“I will explain everything to you on the drive,” he replied. “Can we help you with your bags?”
That wasn’t going to work. My momma hadn’t raised a fool. And since I had been getting sick, twisted notes from a stranger, I wouldn’t be jumping into a vehicle with men I didn’t know. Even ones who looked like they had walked off the Sexy Bad Boys calendar my momma used to get every year.
“I need to talk to Jericho first,” I replied. “Do you mind waiting out here while I make that call?” Because I wasn’t inviting them inside with me.
“Of course,” Linc replied.
Unable to help myself, I gave the younger one, Than, another glance. His expression and even his stance seemed annoyed. The glacial-blue eyes that stared back at me weren’t friendly. In fact, there was accusation and disgust. I’d been so enamored with his body, hair, and even his mouth before that I hadn’t paid close attention to his expression. My cheeks flushed, and I felt unsettled.
I closed the door quickly and went over to get my phone from the bed. Steeling myself, I pressed the saved number and waited. It rang twice.
“Hello?” he clipped out.
“There are men here to take me somewhere.”
“Yes, you demanded I help you. Do whatever Linc Shephard says. He is acting on my request. But be warned that he is a powerful man.” He hissed out the last two words. “And if you do anything to ruin me, he will take care of you. Do you understand what I am saying?”
I blinked as I stared at the wall. I wasn’t sure. It sounded like a threat, but to what? Was Linc a special cop? Could he get me arrested? For telling the truth? Nothing about either of them looked very law-like. In fact, they’d given off more of the walking on the line of danger vibe. Which was another reason I’d balked at getting in a vehicle with either of them. No matter how hot they were.
“I, uh…I just need to graduate high school and get enough money saved so I can get a place to live.”
He let out a short, hard laugh. “Sure. You say that now. But you’ll start wanting more from me. Thinking you can threaten and demand anything you want. You need to know that you’re not just dealing with me. There are those who put me in office that you should fear. A threat to me is a threat to them.”
My gaze swung back to the closed door. Surely not the men he’d sent for me?
“Who—”
The line went dead. He had hung up on me. I pulled the phone back to see that the call had indeed ended.
That son of a bitch. Ugh! After telling me that some powerful people would deal with me, he hangs up and leaves me with those two?
What would Momma do?
She’d go out there and let them know that she wasn’t being pushed around. Jericho and some dangerous men didn’t want my truth out…well, neither did I.
“All right, Momma, you told me to do this. Here it goes,” I whispered, then spun back around and strode to the door with confidence I didn’t feel.
With my shoulders back and my head held high, I swung the door back open to see the younger one with a cigarette. He glowered at me, and this time, I gave it right back to him. It was easier when he had one of those in his mouth. I hated them.
Cutting my eyes back to Linc, I gave him a tight smile. “I’m not leaving with you without knowing where Jericho is having me sent. If it’s the bottom of a lake, I’d prefer to just go to the local television station,” I told him, doing my best to give a threatening expression.
The man rubbed his short beard, and I saw tattoos on his fingers, along with a black ring on the ring finger of his left hand. He was married. I knew it shouldn’t, but that made him feel less dangerous. Or maybe I was just grabbing at anything to ease my mind.
“I have a daughter, and when she’s older, I hope she’s careful. I can respect that,” he replied in a hard tone.
His being a father of a little girl surprised me. He didn’t fit that part.
“I live on thirty-five acres of land. It’s fenced in, and it has a privacy gate. There is a small cabin toward the back of the property that I am allowing you to use while you are here. Than will be your transportation, and he will also be who makes sure you are where you say you are. We can’t have you going off and running your mouth about things,” Linc finished.
I glanced back at Than, who had the cigarette in his mouth again.
“Trust me, I’m not fucking thrilled about it either,” he drawled, and his voice was deeper, huskier than I’d expected.
Not wanting to look at him any longer than necessary because it could be addictive, I turned my attention back to Linc. “Okay. But there is someone close to me who knows about this. They don’t want anyone finding out either for my sake, but if I go missing, they’ll go to the police with my medical records and paternity test and tell them I came here to get help after my momma died,” I warned him.
Peg and Melody knew where I was, just not the truth behind the why. If Jericho or this man thought that this was a secret just between us, he had been misinformed. Folks had seen Jericho with Momma back then. Momma didn’t tell anyone who my father was, but his showing up with gifts after I was born had kind of given it away.
His eyes narrowed. “Who else knows?”
I shook my head and let out a sharp laugh. “Like hell am I telling you. That’s my insurance policy. I don’t know that Jericho didn’t hire you to dump me somewhere and leave me for dead.”
Linc let out a heavy sigh and glanced at Than with annoyance, then back at me. “Do you need help with your things?” he asked again.
I did. I had more than I wanted to carry. I stepped back and opened the door wider. “The two suitcases and the boxes. I can roll the suitcases if y’all can carry the boxes. One has books, so it’s real heavy. The smallest one is just some pictures so it’s light. And that one has some breakable things in it,” I said, pointing to the one to the right.
“Thanks,” Than drawled. “I missed the large red letters that say Fragile , written across it three times.”
I glared at his back as he sauntered past me.
“I’ll get the breakables and the other one. You grab the books,” Linc told him.
I was relieved. Than seemed like he might just dislike me enough to drop the box with Momma’s collection of shot glasses on purpose. I’d wrapped each one up tight, but I wasn’t sure they could survive a fall to the pavement.
They were the most important things I had with me. I could remember Momma buying many of them. Whenever we had gone somewhere new, she always had to get one. A smile touched my lips when I thought about her lining them up in the china cabinet for display, like most women did with expensive plates or crystal serving pieces. We’d had forty-two shot glasses in ours. But my box only had forty. of them I’d tucked into the casket with her. She’d always said they were her favorite and that she was taking them to the grave. She had been sure she could convince the folks at the pearly gates to let her bring them in.
“It can’t truly be heaven if they don’t serve up unlimited lemon drop martinis without the hangover or weight gain.”
The two she had loved the most weren’t expensive or even rare.
One had been my grandmother’s. She’d bought it in Graceland in 1982, the day it opened to the public for tours. Momma said that my grandmother loved Elvis and raised her on his music. Every time Momma had heard an Elvis song, no matter where we were, she’d start singing along. And although she could dance, she could not sing. I would get so embarrassed when she did it, and now I’d give anything to listen to her belt out “Don’t Be Cruel” in the aisle of the grocery store.
The other shot glass was one we had found at a yard sale. It said Montana on it. She picked it up and squealed, then hugged it to her chest like a little girl who had just found her favorite doll. It was one of those that you could probably get at any service station in the state, but to Momma, it was perfect. I never understood why, but she had kept it front and center, right beside the Graceland glass.
Once both men were out of the room with my boxes, I slipped my Taser into my purse, then took the handles of both suitcases and followed them. Unfortunately, the back side of Than Carver was as nice as the front.