Chapter Five
On the way to Dylan Walker’s ranch, Traver Lee called her back.
She picked up immediately, anxious to hear what he’d dug up on the background information she’d given him about on Dylan Walker and the car bombing that killed his wife.
Cat couldn’t help being curious about the bombing that had killed Dylan’s wife.
But after meeting Dylan Walker, she’d been curious about the woman he’d married.
Earlier she’d found photos of Ginny Cooper Walker from the bombing story.
Dylan’s wife had been beautiful, supermodel stunning with long dark hair, huge blue eyes and a body that would stop traffic with those long legs that seemed to go on forever.
“So what do you have for me?”
she asked Traver, knowing how he loved digging up dirt.
He was apparently exceptionally good at it.
“How much do you know?”
he asked, sounding downright gleeful.
“Just what I’ve been able to find online, which isn’t much.
I wanted to ask if the husband, Dylan Walker, had been injured in the bombing.”
“According to his statement to the cops, he was almost to the town car when it had pulled away from the curb, gone up the street and exploded.
He apparently had gone out into the street as if he planned to chase it down when it blew up.
The explosion was contained so he received only minor injuries, was taken to the hospital for observation, and released later that night.
Everyone in the car was killed instantly, but bystanders were relatively unharmed.”
“So, the idea was to kill whoever was in the car,”
she said.
“Wait, you said everyone in the car? I thought it was just the wife and driver?”
“Beau Walker was driving the car.
Ginny Walker was in the front.
Both were killed,” he said.
She frowned.
“Beau Walker?”
“Dylan Walker’s younger brother.
There were rumors about Beau being with Dylan’s wife, Ginny.
I never could get verification, but Ginny and Beau had been seen together more than once before that night.”
Cat had tried to picture it.
Dylan hurrying after the car as it was pulling away.
Which meant that he and his wife hadn’t been together all night.
So much for his alibi.
“So, the car bomb wasn’t designed to detonate when the car was started?”
“No, it was on a delayed electronic trigger,”
he said.
“The killer was probably either watching from somewhere or had someone else telling them when to detonate the bomb.”
“Do the cops know who the actual target was?”
“Nope, the case has never been solved,” he said.
“I’m curious about the wife and brother.”
He made a sound of agreement.
“Beau Walker worked abroad as an independent contractor on construction projects.”
Apparently, like his older brother Dylan.
“At the time of his death, he was in between jobs.
He and his brother both came from old family wealth, I’m talking loaded, and the surviving brother inherited it all.”
That could definitely have given Dylan motive for murder—not to mention if he suspected his wife and brother were having an affair.
“What do you know about the wife?”
she asked, trying to hide just how curious she was.
“Ginny Cooper Walker was playing above her league.
Middle-class family and upbringing.
BFA after majoring in art.
Taught children how to finger paint through a program Dylan’s family had started.
They met at one of the events.
Love at first sight, according to friends.”
“The marriage?”
she asked.
“True love according to her sister, Patty.
Dylan idolized Ginny.
But they hadn’t been married long.
Patty Cooper Harper teaches middle school in Denver.”
Denver? Where Lindsey Martin said she was from.
Coincidence?
“So why the car bomb?”
Cat asked as she made the turn toward the Walker ranch.
“Could have been a case of mistaken identity,”
he said.
“There were a half dozen black town cars hired at the event that night.”
Cat thought of Lindsey Martin aka Athena Grant again.
“Did the brothers look anything alike?”
Traver laughed.
“Odd you should ask, but no more than most brothers.
You know something I don’t?”
She wasn’t about to tell him about the murder case she was working on.
He was a reporter and there was no way he could sit on this story.
Maybe when she solved the murder, she could give it to him.
“You think the bomb was meant for Dylan?”
“I think it had something to do with the brother and Dylan’s wife.”
“An affair then?”
she asked.
“Why not? Makes you wonder why Dylan didn’t leave the event with his wife.
The rumor is that Dylan didn’t even know his brother was in town.”
“Were they close?”
she asked.
“Wouldn’t be very close once Dylan found out that his wife was sleeping with his brother.”
“You know that for a fact?”
Cat asked.
“Honey, let’s not even pretend I work on fact,”
he said with a laugh.
“I just try to answer the questions everyone is asking.”
Cat could see the gate ahead and two rigs with the deputies she’d called from Eureka and Libby waiting to help with the search.
“I’m going to have to let you go.”
“I hope you can tell me soon why you’re asking about this now.”
“You’re the best, Traver,”
she said with a chuckle and disconnected as she reached the gate.
Cat tried to make sense of what she knew.
Athena Grant was more than nine months pregnant and in trouble.
She’d come to Montana thinking she could get Dylan Walker to help her.
But she had to know that was a longshot.
Was that why she hadn’t used her real name? Because once he knew it was her, there was no way he would see her? Or worse, what if she planned to kill him if she’d gotten in through the gate that day?
She shook her head, reminding herself that law enforcement operated on facts and evidence, not conjecture and rumor.
But right now, conjecture and rumor was about all she had.
She did wonder though if Athena had had a backup plan.
If so, something went wrong.
It was late afternoon on Saturday when Dylan looked out to see Rowena headed his way.
She’d said she’d be gone by the weekend, but here she was.
He hadn’t seen much of her over the past few days.
She had come and gone.
From what little he’d seen of her, she seemed to be sightseeing around the area, leaving early in the morning and returning late.
The first words out of her mouth were, “I know what you’re going to say.
What am I still doing here.”
She gave him a smile.
“Make me a drink and I’ll tell you.”
“Rowena—”
“Seriously, Dylan, you’ll want to hear what I have to tell you.
I talked to my friend in the prosecutor’s office.
Make it a gin and tonic with lime,”
she said as she stepped past him.
Tamping down his growing irritation, he closed the door and followed her into the living room, where she’d already taken a seat on the couch.
He’d done his best to find out what she was doing here, but none of his contacts knew anything.
That was the problem with Rowena, he couldn’t remember how she’d come into Ginny’s life—and now his own.
Maybe she was just this pushy woman who latched onto people and hung on for dear life because she didn’t have other friends.
Is this what Ginny had had to contend with? Or was Rowena really her best friend, the one she told all her secrets to? He might never know.
The one thing he did know was that he couldn’t get Rowena to tell him the truth.
Dylan made her a drink and one for himself while he was at it.
He figured he was going to need it.
He handed her a glass, she gave a nod and made herself at home.
“Well? Let’s have it.”
He did his best not to sound as angry as he felt as he perched on the arm of the chair across from her.
Or as worried.
Whatever she was doing here, it was more than to visit him.
His stomach roiled as he watched her take a sip of her drink, lick her lips and carefully put down the glass on the coffee table before she answered.
She was making him wait, maybe gauging just how anxious he was to hear what she’d found out.
More than likely torturing him for the fun of it.
Still, he waited, sipping his drink, trying his best to look calm and casual.
“They’ve reopened the case because there’s some question about who died in the car,” she said.
“What? After this long there’s a question?”
“Something to do with identifying the remains, a possible mix-up.”
Dylan shook his head.
“I saw Ginny get into the car and head up the street right before it blew up.
I provided a sample of my DNA.
It was my brother in that car.”
Rowena picked up her drink, took a sip before she said, “I don’t know what to tell you, but it sounds as if there might have been a major screwup if the people in the car weren’t your brother and wife.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Just telling you what I heard.
Why else would they reopen the case?”
she asked.
He had no idea, but he had a feeling she might be making this all up since he hadn’t been able to confirm the case was being reopened.
This could be Rowena playing him.
But for what end? So she could hang around longer? But why? Not that it mattered, he was done.
“It’s time for you to leave, Rowena.”
She raised a brow and let out a little laugh.
“It’s not even close to bedtime and I’m lonely in that big house of yours.
I really don’t understand why you don’t live in it.
You could come stay with me and then it wouldn’t be so—”
“Not leave to go back to my house.
Leave the ranch.
Leave Montana.
You said you’d leave by the weekend.
Time’s up.”
Rowena cocked her head at him.
He could see sparks coming from her blue eyes as she downed the rest of her drink.
“Ginny said I was wrong, but you never liked me, did you, Dylan?”
“No.
I never understood what Ginny saw in you.”
“Ouch, the gloves are off, huh.
I’ll tell you what Ginny saw in me.
I was fun, something she found in short supply with you.”
She rose, taking her empty glass to the bar and pouring herself another drink.
After downing it in one gulp, she slammed her glass on the bar before turning to him.
“I really did come here to help you get over your…loss,”
she said meeting his gaze with a fiery one of her own.
“I highly doubt that.
Did you ever contact the sheriff like I told her you would?”
“Acting sheriff,”
she said, with a shake of her head.
“You should give her a call on your way out of town.”
“What makes you think I’m leaving town,”
she said with a bitter laugh.
“Montana’s a big state.
There is no reason you and I should cross paths again.”
She let out a huff and started for the door but stopped at the sound of the gate buzzer.
Turning, they exchanged a look as a familiar female voice came over the intercom.
Dylan swore under his breath.
He had feared Acting Sheriff Cat Jameson would be back.
Just a gut feeling he hadn’t been able to explain.
He touched the intercom flat-screen display and her face appeared.
“Unless you’ve brought a warrant, Sheriff—”
“Got it right here, along with some deputies to help with the search.”
“Search? Search for what?”
“It’s all spelled out in the warrant,”
she said, holding it up.
He felt his pulse begin to pound.
“Come on in then.”
He opened the gate, dreading what he feared was coming as she drove in followed by two different cars of deputies apparently from nearby cities.
What the devil was this about?
Turning back to Rowena, he said, “I need to handle this.
I’m serious about you leaving.”
“But didn’t you tell me the cute little acting sheriff wanted to talk to me?”
He growled under his breath.
“That’s right.
Unfortunately, you involved yourself in this.”
She smiled and raised a brow.
“Nor would I want to miss this for anything.
They’re really going to search the place? Seems you’re in some kind of trouble, Dylan.
Now I’m really intrigued.
Whatever have you been up to?”