were not high that he’d found the missing Warner, but it would drive him crazy not to know for sure. More importantly, he owed this to Christian.
Tucker didn’t have to look up the number for George Morgan, a family friend who also happened to be a private investigator in New York. He’d been on the case from the moment Christian had told Tucker about Leanna Warner, and while George had found out about her past, he’d had no luck finding the woman herself.
“Tucker. It’s been a while.”
“Too long,” Tucker said, leaning back in his chair, staring at the new picture as if her position would change if he looked hard enough. “I’m calling about Leanna Warner.”
George took a second. “Did something happen?”
“Maybe. I might have uncovered a picture, although I wouldn’t count on it. If it is her, she’s living in a flyspeck town in northern Montana, working at an animal sanctuary.”
“You want me to go check things out.” It wasn’t a question.
“I’d like that, yes.”
“I’m slammed at the moment but I can go in a couple of weeks.” Met with silence, George added, “Or I can recommend a couple of other investigators if you’d like.”
That changed things. Tucker hadn’t realized how invested he was in finding Warner until this photo had cropped up. Locating her might not solve all the issues he had with his brother, certainly wouldn’t fix things between Christian and their mother, but it would be a significant start. “Maybe I’ll fly out there myself. It’s probably a fool’s errand, but if it is her, I’ll make damn sure she doesn’t run again.”
“You know, there’s no guarantee that bringing her to the district attorney will be enough to clear Christian’s name.”
“I know.” Tucker stared out the window, trying to organize his thoughts. “I won’t be hasty. I’ll take a look around. See if I can dig up something tying her to the money.”
“I don’t know…. Sure it can’t wait two weeks?”
He smiled. “I won’t do anything risky. In fact, I have the perfect cover. My foundation funds sanctuaries and shelters.”
“Or you can have a look, confirm it’s her and, while you wait for me, take some time to go fishing. Montana has some great streams and lakes.”
Tucker laughed.
George did, too. “I know. What was I thinking? You’re so much like your old man. He never took time off, either.”
“Listen, do me a favor. When you can, dust off those Warner files, huh? It’s been a while. Let’s see if we missed a connection somewhere along the way.”
“That I can do fairly quickly.”
After they hung up, Tucker looked at his April calendar.
It was jammed, of course. The Rocking B ranch, started on a shoestring by his adoptive grandfather, built into an empire by his late step-father, was over 500,000 acres. They raised cattle, horses and crops, and there were twelve working oil wells on 160,000 acres of backcountry land. Although he had managers to handle the day-to-day business, the buck stopped with Tucker.
It wasn’t easy for him to make the trip himself, but he’d manage. If he rearranged his schedule, he could go the following Monday. That time frame would give him a chance to refresh himself on Leanna’s history and find out what he could about Safe Haven and the town of Blackfoot Falls.
He called Darren in, and they began the work of shuffling appointments. There wouldn’t be any problem, except for one—he dedicated Tuesday nights to dinner with his mother. If he flew out Monday, he doubted he’d be back in time.
Irene lived on the ranch in a private suite of rooms, but they didn’t cross paths that often. She had her own social circle that kept her reasonably busy, but she was still grieving for her husband, who’d died eighteen months ago.
Tucker spent his weekends in Dallas proper taking care of social obligations, and worked the rest of the week at the ranch. She probably wouldn’t say much, but of all the things Irene did, she most looked forward to their weekly dinner. He hated disappointing her, but it couldn’t be helped.
While Darren went through item after item, Tucker kept staring at the pictures he’d pulled back up on his computer. He might want to blame his younger brother for being so gullible, but that didn’t mean Tucker wouldn’t help him clear his name. There was more at stake here. Christian had gotten the short straw when they’d been children, and while Tucker’s own guilt was great, it was nothing compared to their mother’s.
He couldn’t afford to wait for George. Tucker needed to see this “Annie” for himself. And if she was the woman who’d left Christian holding the bag for her crimes, delivering her to justice might help bring his erstwhile family together again.
AS ANNIE SIPPED HER COFFEE, she checked the big blackboard above her desk. On it were the days of the week, the scheduled volunteers, appointments, deadlines…basically her life in chalk.
Mondays were always fun, at least in the early afternoon when Melanie Knowles brought a group of high school students to volunteer. Melanie had convinced the principal and the school board to give the students academic credits for their participation. Each time a group arrived in the small yellow bus, they had an hour of instruction—everything from animal husbandry to money management—before being assigned tasks.
Melanie and the students had even started a major project on their own that would benefit the shelter for years to come.
Thank goodness, because Safe Haven wasn’t in nearly good enough financial shape to handle anything outside the basics of feeding and caring for the animals. But at least they’d made significant headway by turning the operation into a not-for-profit organization that was finally eligible for grant money and more substantial donations. All thanks to Shea. She’d helped Annie with the paperwork, but her participation meant much more. Shea was the name and face of Safe Haven.
Just remembering the days before Annie had asked Shea to serve as Safe Haven’s chairman of the board made Annie tense. the future of the sanctuary had been at stake. Annie couldn’t use her real name on any government document. Since she was an unpaid volunteer, she wasn’t noted at all.
The rest of the board positions had been filled with longtime residents of Blackfoot Falls, and they were one hell of an ornery bunch. Their first meeting would be next week, and wasn’t that going to be a corker. Annie would be there to run things—Shea had made her promise—but with an official and legal board of directors, Safe Haven would continue even if Annie had to disappear in a hurry.
That thought sent her mood plummeting. Better get busy before she had too much time to brood.
It wasn’t light out yet, but she’d have to start the first round of feeding shortly, so she booted up her computer and checked her email. She didn’t get much. A few volunteers liked to keep in touch between visits, some ebills had to be slotted for payment. Shea had sent pictures of yesterday’s party that she’d posted on the Sundance website.
The fourth one nearly stopped her heart.
It was a picture of her. For anyone to see. Including the New York
