By Request Collection April-June 2016. Оливия Гейтс

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he’d looked closer, though, he’d seen that her “designer” clothes and accessories were clever knockoffs. It was her personality and flair that let her get past all the normal barriers.

      Christian would know about that kind of thing because he was in the same boat. His finance degree had gotten him only so far in a city that thrived on connections, but his audacity had helped make him a hell of an investment manager. No wonder the two of them had decided to team up. They each wanted a lifestyle that was just out of reach.

      Reading the background material was helpful, but he had to check his bias at the door. If he let his emotions take the reins there was a risk he’d miss something important, or jump to conclusions. But there was no denying that Leanna was extremely clever.

      On paper, she seemed the least likely person in the world to have stolen money. But if she’d had nothing to do with the fraud, why disappear? The logical conclusion was that she’d wanted to let Christian take the fall—except she hadn’t tied him to any real evidence. One transaction record, even an email referring to an offshore bank account, could have put Christian squarely in the bull’s-eye. Instead, Leanna had been forced into a life of hiding and his brother had just enough of a stain on his reputation to cripple his future.

      Though she’d made off with over $500,000, she’d left each charity’s seed money in the account, which, he suspected, was a clever way to avoid notice. At least until the whistle was blown, and then things had happened quickly. She probably hadn’t had time to clean out the rest of the funds. But who could be sure of her reasoning?

      So many discrepancies and oddities made it difficult to figure out her end game. Good thing Tucker was a patient man. He wouldn’t make the mistake of acting rashly. If she had something that would nail her, he’d find it. Then turn her over to the D.A. gift-wrapped all nice and pretty.

      He turned off the computer and gathered his materials. Most of what he had were printouts, but there were also several articles from New York newspapers, two yearbooks, four different brochures that Leanna had created and a short stack of photographs. The alarm was going to ring in under six hours, and his agenda was full all the way through Sunday. He wished he wasn’t committed to the Rangers game, but it was more business than pleasure, so no choice there. It had been a long time since he’d been to a game for the fun of it.

      He stripped down to his boxers and climbed between the sheets. As tired as he was, he should have been out like a light, but images of Leanna…Annie…kept spinning on a loop that wouldn’t quit.

       3

      ANNIE LOVED THIS TIME OF YEAR. She breathed in the cool spring air and squinted at the Rockies still wearing their lacy snowcaps. Safe Haven didn’t have many cows or calves to monitor. Even if they had she wouldn’t have minded the job of running stock. Working out here in the big north field under the open sky seemed more like therapy than a chore.

      She heard the pounding of hooves and forced herself to calmly turn in her saddle. Of course it was Will Woodruff riding out to take her place and not guys wearing suits and badges coming to slap handcuffs on her. Twenty-four hours had passed since Shea had deleted the photo, long enough to assume that if the wrong person had seen it, Annie would’ve been picked up by now. But not long enough to stop her from jumping at every shadow.

      That didn’t mean she’d let down her guard, but…she had to stop dwelling on it. The odds were in her favor and she’d decided to take the risk. In the meantime, she had a hell of a lot of animals and people counting on her.

      “Afternoon, Annie. Anything I should know?” Will, who’d been a wild man in his heyday, a cowboy renowned for breaking the meanest horses and taming beautiful women, was in his sixties now and a valuable volunteer.

      “Everything’s fine. Anything exciting back at the ranch?” she couldn’t help asking.

      He looked at her as if she were nuts. “Not a thing.”

      They chatted for a minute, then she took off for home base, ready for some lunch before she moved on to chores in the barn.

      Her first task after washing up and getting coffee was checking her email. A message from the Rocking B ranch made her pause. After reading the long email three times, she still pinched herself, just to make sure she was conscious. Then she went to the Texas ranch’s website.

      Looking at the list of grants and gifts the philanthropic arm of the Rocking B had shelled out through the years made her break into goose bumps. Those people didn’t mess around. When they gave a worthy nonprofit funding, they gave enough to matter.

      With shaking fingers, Annie bookmarked everything, then got out her cell phone. Good thing Shea picked up or Annie surely would’ve burst.

      TUCKER LOVED TO FLY, AND EVERY time he went up in the Cessna, he thought about his father. It had been Michael Brennan’s idea to send Tucker to flight school. The old man had been progressive in his thinking, and the ranch showed it.

      The CJ2+ had earned its keep, despite the hefty price tag. It seemed as if Tucker’s attention was always needed yesterday and flying gave him the freedom to respond immediately. It would be good to have the plane nearby when he met Annie Sheridan. There was always a chance that she’d want to give herself up. He wasn’t counting on it.

      The email exchange hadn’t been as illuminating as he’d hoped. Although he found it interesting that Shea Monroe was so invested in the workings of Safe Haven that she’d authored most of the correspondence.

      A quick search of Monroe’s name had prompted Tucker to send a link to George. He confirmed that she had high security clearance and was connected to some government programs that could be worth a fortune if sold to the right party. Tucker found it hard to believe that Leanna Warner would go to a backwater town like Blackfoot Falls without a good reason.

      He shook his head, knowing he’d passed the point of no return given all he’d invested in that one vague online photo. Although the fact that the picture had disappeared without a trace, even in the computer’s cache, was suspicious in itself. Fortunately, he’d saved it to his hard drive.

      Annie’s emails had focused on logistics, informing him of the airfield in Kalispell, the nearest moderately sized town that had accommodations and car rentals. He’d booked a room at the Hilton Garden Inn, reserved an SUV.

      The closer he got to Montana, the more he thought about meeting the woman who had taken over a large portion of his brain. She confused him. Intrigued him. While he’d done his fair share of tricky negotiations with savvy competitors, he had the feeling his skills would be tested to the limit.

      He’d have to be on his toes. Remember what lurked behind the beautiful face. And not for a second forget what she’d done to Christian.

      ANNIE LOOKED UP FROM THE TABLE where she’d stacked copies of the Safe Haven board meeting agenda. Time had decided to slow down to a snail’s pace, giving her a wonderful opportunity to let worry overshadow every bit of potential good that might come from Tucker Brennan’s visit.

      Safe Haven was too small. There were only a handful of permanent part-time volunteers. Because of their remote location, even if she could attract more help, they had to be local, and she’d already dried that well.

      No, the problem was, most every animal sanctuary she’d researched had a visitor’s program

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