Chase's Promise Read online

“I don’t want to.”

  His answer was so blunt it left Raine speechless for one shocked moment before a flood of anger erased caution. She grabbed his arm and he halted to look down at her. His blue eyes were remote. It wasn’t so much hostility but the total lack of emotion on his face that made Raine quickly release her grip on his forearm.

  “Why not?”

  He didn’t answer.

  Frustrated, Raine frowned up at him. “My brother’s missing and you’re a bounty hunter. If the police can’t find him, you’re the only person in the area that has a chance of locating him.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t want to be found.”

  “No.” She shook her head, adamantly rejecting the possibility. “Trey would have told me if he were going to be gone longer than overnight. He knows I worry. He would have phoned.”

  “Then maybe he isn’t able to make a call.”

  “You mean he might be dead. He’s not.” She saw the flicker of skepticism in his expression. “We’re twins. I’d know if he were dead.”

  “Then why are you worried?”

  “Because something’s wrong. I can feel it.”

  “You can ‘feel’ your brother’s in trouble? Is this some psychic thing?”

  “Yes. I know it sounds weird, but we’ve always known if the other was in trouble, or hurt. And I know I have to find Trey. Will you help me?”

  “Sorry. I never take cases from locals.”

  Raine clenched her fists, her temper flaring. “You owe me,” she told him. “You owe my family.”

  His face hardened, a muscle flexing along his jawline. “I don’t owe you anything, lady.”

  “You cost me and my family one brother when Mike died. You owe it to me to help save Trey.”

  “If I owed your family a debt, which I don’t, I paid for it with three years of my life.” His voice was as cold and hard as a Montana winter.

  He spun on his heel and stalked away.

  “Trey disappeared when he went to meet someone who promised to tell him the truth about the night Mike died,” Raine called after him in a last, desperate bid for his cooperation.

  Chase stopped walking. He turned to look at her, menace in every line of his body.

  “What did you say?”

  Raine felt as if she’d poked a mountain lion with a stick and had him turn on her. She’d wanted Chase’s attention. Now she had it and chills of fear prickled her skin.

  “Trey received a letter telling him that if he wanted to know how Mike really died fifteen years ago, he should be at the Bull ’n’ Bash tavern in Billings on Friday night. He refused to let me go with him and he hasn’t come home.”

  “Was the letter signed?”

  “No.”

  “Have you got it?”

  “No. Trey took it with him when he left for Billings.”

  Chase propped his hands on his hips, his expression unreadable.

  “All right.” He nodded abruptly. “You’ve got yourself a hunter. I’ll need all the information you can give me about your brother. Have you got a picture with you?”

  Raine was dizzy with relief. “Not with me, no. But I have several on Trey’s computer in the apartment above the Saloon.”

  “I’ll need a recent photo and his statistics, date of birth, eye and hair color, height and weight. Also what kind of car he was driving and the license number.” He broke off and thought for a moment. “Has his car been found?”

  “No. He drove his SUV. It’s missing, too.”

  “Get the data together and I’ll pick it up this evening on my way out of town.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Billings. If that’s the last place he was seen, that’s where I’ll start looking.”

  Ten minutes later, after telling Chase to come to her brother’s apartment above the Saloon to collect the information about Trey, Raine was racing down the highway toward Wolf Creek. She didn’t have a lot of time to collect Trey’s vital statistics and choose a photo of her brother to give to Chase.

  For the first time in days, the heavy dread that weighed down her heart lifted, giving her hope.

  Chase McCloud was more dangerous in person than his reputation claimed. Raine didn’t care. She’d have dealt with the devil himself if it meant a chance to find Trey.

  Chapter Two

  Chase stood on his deck, watching the small red car until it turned onto the highway and sped out of sight.

  Raine Harper had just knocked his world off its axis. And not only because a possible clue had surfaced in a fifteen-year-old mystery.

  He hadn’t lied to her—he didn’t take cases for locals. He wanted nothing to do with Wolf Creek residents. He’d sworn long ago to focus on the present and let the past lie undisturbed—that included Mike’s death and the local jury that held him responsible. Raine, however, was the exception.

  She was the last woman he’d expected to see when he looked up from the hot metal taking shape under his hammer and saw a female form silhouetted by the sunlight. Then she’d stepped inside the workroom and he could see her clearly.

  He’d recognized her with one glance.

  That brief moment when they’d collided in the Saloon weeks ago was seared in his memory. He’d looked down into startled grey eyes and pink lips parted in surprise. For a second, their bodies were pressed together from chest to thigh. Those eyes, her mouth, creamy skin, mahogany hair and the feel of her curves against him had featured prominently in his dreams ever since.

  He hadn’t decided what, if anything, he wanted to do about her. Given their family history, he’d doubted she’d be willing to share casual conversation with him, let alone consider the kind of relationship that ended up with the two of them getting naked.

  He had a strict rule against getting involved with anyone hiring his services. He’d never broken it in all his years as a bounty hunter.

  Agreeing to search for her brother made Raine his client. He hoped to hell he’d be able to keep his distance until he’d located her brother and had a look at the mysterious letter.

  For the first time in his life, Chase wasn’t confident his control was unshakable.

  Several hours later, Chase tossed a small duffel bag packed with essentials onto the floor behind the SUV’s driver’s seat, whistling a brief melodic tune. Three-year-old-Killer, a ninety-eight pound Rottweiler, immediately ceased sniffing the grass by the house gate and trotted forward. He leaped easily into the backseat and Chase slammed the door behind him before sliding behind the wheel.

  The late-afternoon sun heated the interior of the black four-wheel-drive vehicle but Chase didn’t turn on the air-conditioning, choosing instead to lower all the windows. Killer stuck his head outside, eyes half-closed as the hot wind pinned his ears back.

  Chase drove by instinct, his mind occupied with the possible angles presented by the mysterious letter sent to Trey Harper just before he’d disappeared.

  There were only three people who knew what really happened the night Mike Harper died. Chase was one of them. The other two were Lonnie and Harlan Kerrigan. One of them must have sent the letter to Raine’s brother. But which one? And why?

  Chase was convinced neither Harlan nor Lonnie would come forward and confess which meant he had to consider a third possibility. Could someone else have been present at the accident scene fifteen years earlier?

  He remembered the sequence of events leading up to the crash on the highway outside Wolf Creek clearly. But he’d been thrown from the truck on impact, hit his head, and lost consciousness. Could another vehicle have arrived on the scene while he’d been comatose? Could a fourth person have seen Harlan remove Lonnie from the driver’s seat and put Chase behind the wheel?

  The unlikely scenario was easier to accept than the equally unlikely possibility that one of the Kerrigans had suddenly become conscience-stricken and had decided to confess after all these years.

  Chase reached Wolf Creek and pulled into the alley behind the Saloon, parking several yards fr
om the back door. Leaving Killer on guard in the SUV, he went inside. A stairwell rose to his immediate right and he moved silently up the steps to the second floor where two doors, directly opposite each other, opened off the carpeted landing. He knocked on 2B and waited, rewarded moments later by the snick of a dead bolt as it slid free.

  Raine stood in the doorway. Chase stilled, rocked by the sudden urge to reach out, catch her narrow waist and draw her close. He felt an intense, nearly compulsive desire to bury his face against the thick mahogany fall of hair, wind the long strands around his fists and run his tongue over the lush fullness of her lower lip to discover the taste of her mouth.

  He never broke his strict rule against romantic involvement with a client, no matter how beautiful. Raine Harper was off-limits.

  He made his response as impersonal as possible. “Evening.”

  “Come in,” she said, her gray eyes meeting his. “Is something wrong?”

  “Not that I know of, why?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said slowly. “For a moment there, you seemed angry.”

  He shrugged and didn’t answer her.

  “Well…” She gestured him inside. “I’m just printing out a digital photo and the details about Trey you wanted.”

  Chase stepped past her and into the apartment. Raine went over to a desk tucked beneath a window to their left. As she moved past him, the subtle scent of her perfume reached his nostrils and he tensed, edgy and restless until she was beyond his reach.

  He glanced around the apartment. Nearly half of the square footage was open space with high ceilings and polished wood floors. A kitchen took up one corner, separated from the great room by a bar with four stools. Shining copper pans hung from a rack above the stove.

  Everything he’d heard about the two surviving members of the Harper family indicated that Raine and Trey were successful businesspeople. They owned the Saloon with its adjoining restaurant, the motel on the edge of town and a small apartment building a few blocks away.

  Which left very little time for cooking, he thought.

  The soft click and whir of a computer printer was the only sound in the quiet apartment. “Nearly finished, only one more page to go. It took longer than I’d hoped to find the information you wanted. I’m not used to Trey’s computer programs.”

  “This is your brother’s apartment?”

  “Yes. He likes the convenience of living above the business—says he spends so much time at work it’s a waste of time to keep a home somewhere else.” She had her back to him as she leaned forward to slip the last sheet from the printer and paper-clipped it together with several others. “I didn’t ask you how much you charge for your services.”

  She looked over her shoulder at him.

  Her eyes widened when Chase quoted his daily fee. “Plus expenses,” he added.

  She stared at him for a moment before nodding and turning back to the desk.

  She barely flinched, he thought, which confirmed his earlier guess that the family businesses were doing well.

  Chase’s gaze flicked idly over the room. A medium-size duffel bag, bulging with its contents, sat on the floor next to the door. A woman’s purse sat beside it.

  “Going somewhere?”

  “Yes.”

  The timing was too coincidental. Chase instinctively knew the answer but he asked the question anyway, hoping he was wrong. “Mind if I ask you where?”

  “Not at all. I’m going with you. Or I’m following you, take your pick.”

  “This isn’t a pleasure trip. It’s business and I work alone.”

  “You need me.” Her voice as stubborn as the set of her chin, she turned to him in profile as she slipped the sheaf of papers into a file folder.

  “For what?” He didn’t bother hiding the sarcasm in his response.

  “Psychic connections between twins have been documented and scientifically accepted. If Trey is near, I’ll feel him. Without me, you could walk within three feet of him and never know it.”

  “And if he’s dead?”

  A shudder shook her slim body before she visibly collected herself. “He isn’t. I would have felt him leave me.”

  Chase didn’t believe her but it didn’t take a genius to see she was fully convinced she was right. Nevertheless, he’d signed on to locate her missing brother; it wasn’t his job to make her face reality. Unless I have to tell her I’ve found a dead body, he thought grimly. “It sounds like a lot of psychobabble to me but I’ve heard stranger things.” He shrugged and held out his hand. “I’ll take the photos and any information you’ve got on your brother.”

  Raine handed him the folder and he flipped through it, scanning the pages.

  “Looks like enough to start with.” He went toward the door.

  “Are you going to let me ride with you? Or are you going to insist I drive my own car?”

  He looked back at her. “You can come with me.” Her taut expression eased. “Don’t think it’s because I want you along or agree your help is necessary,” he said bluntly. “I’m saying yes because I figure it’s the quickest way to convince you to stay home and let me get on with my job. Clients generally believe hunting people is either easy or exciting—it isn’t. It’s mostly boring, repetitive work with endless knocking on doors and conversations that lead to dead ends.”

  She flushed and nodded, her eyes snapping with anger, her lips set tightly.

  Chase guessed her pretty mouth was clamped shut to keep from telling him exactly where he could put his ultimatums but he didn’t care. He’d long ago run out of the patience required to deal with civilians who believed the television version of “bounty hunting.” He was good at his job, and sometimes it was exciting and definitely dangerous. Most of the time, though, it required methodical, patient sifting of information.

  She’ll be bored and heading for home within forty-eight hours, he thought.

  Raine snatched up her bag and purse and followed him out of the apartment, pausing to lock the dead bolt. He couldn’t have been clearer about not wanting me with him. She wondered if he’d go out of his way to be difficult and steeled herself for an unpleasant drive. If she was lucky, she thought, they’d learn something definitive in Billings and she wouldn’t have to be in his company for more than the evening.

  Chase had already disappeared into the alley when she reached the bottom of the stairs. A black SUV was parked a few feet away, the tinted windows adding a secretive air to its sleek appearance.

  “Give me your bag. I’ll put it in the back.”

  Raine jumped. Chase moved so quickly she hadn’t heard him approach. He took the duffel from her and opened the passenger door, waving her in. Raine slipped into the seat and twisted to fasten her seat belt while Chase walked around the back of the vehicle.

  Someone breathed loudly in her ear, the sound faintly threatening. Raine glanced over her shoulder and directly into the face of a huge black dog. She froze, afraid to move. His mouth was open, red tongue lolling, and his white incisors appeared razor sharp.

  “Killer. Down.” Chase’s voice was calm, commanding.

  The big dog sat back on his haunches, giving a low growl as Chase tossed Raine’s duffel on the floor at his feet. Seconds later, Chase slid behind the wheel next to Raine. The engine turned over with a throaty roar and he drove out of the alleyway.

  Raine took measured breaths to slow her racing heart.

  “He’s…big, isn’t he?”

  She felt the scrutiny of Chase’s gaze as he looked briefly at her before returning his attention to the highway. “Not so big for a Rottweiler. He weighs around a hundred pounds.”

  Raine felt her eyes widen but she didn’t comment. The dog was within twenty pounds of her own weight. She hoped he wasn’t easily provoked. “Is that why you named him Killer?”

  “Not me—Dad named him ‘Killer’ after Jerry Lee Lewis, a badass fifties rock ’n’ roll singer. My parents have a male Rottweiler—Killer’s one of his offspring. The elderly neighbor
that raised Killer from a pup died last month and Dad took him back.”

  “How did he end up living with you?” Raine was fascinated by the small window into the lives of the McCloud family.

  “His choice—not mine. I had dinner with my folks a few days after Dad picked him up and Killer jumped into my truck bed. He wouldn’t get out so I took him home with me. He’s been there ever since.”

  “He adopted you?”

  Chase shrugged. “Apparently.”

  “Brave dog,” she commented.

  “Not really. Have you seen the size of his jaws and teeth?” Chase said dryly. “I’m not about to tell him he has to go back to Dad’s.”

  His wry humor caught Raine off guard, startling her into laughter.

  Chase glanced sideways at her. “Tell me about your brother.” He switched off the radio, cutting off Mick Jagger in midlyric. The silence that filled the vehicle was suddenly loaded with intimacy.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything you can tell me. The more I know about him, the easier it will be to second-guess his actions. Start with his work schedule. You said he lives above the Saloon because of the long hours he works. Did he have any trouble with a customer lately that was out of the ordinary?”

  “Not that I know of.” Raine paused, mentally considering her conversations with Trey over the last weeks before he disappeared. She couldn’t think of any comments he’d made about customer interaction that went beyond the usual complaints. “Most of the clientele in the Saloon and restaurant are regulars and local. Every now and then someone starts a fight but Trey hadn’t mentioned any specific problems.”

  “Exactly what does he do at work?”

  “Everything—he’s completely in charge of managing the Saloon and I’m responsible for the restaurant, although we substitute for each other if needed. Trey fills in behind the bar on occasion, deals with the Liquor Board, acts as bouncer if anyone gets too rowdy, hires and fires employees—everything required of the owner.”

  “Has he fired anyone recently?”

  Raine shook her head. “No.”

  “What about at the restaurant? Any disgruntled ex-employees holding a grudge?”