Kat Martin - Against the Wind

M ommy, why do we have to leave? Sarah Allens six-year-old daughter, Holly, looked up at her with big blue, tear-filled eyes. I like it here. I dont want to go.

Anxious to be on her way, Sarah reached down and lifted the little blonde girl into her arms. Dont cry, sweetie. I promise youre going to love it. The mountains are beautiful and there are these rivers and big green forests, and you can have a puppy if you want. At least Sarah hoped so.

Surely the owners of the cottage she had rented wouldnt mind. The house was, after all, on a very large ranch, at least twelve thousand acres.

Holly sniffed back tears and looked up with interest. A puppy? Can I really?

As soon as we get settled, well drive into town and you can adopt one from the pound. Sarah glanced nervously toward the door. The car was packed, the rest of their personal possessions boxed and shipped. She was leaving Los Angeles and she prayed she was leaving her troubles, as well.

The sooner they left town, the safer she would feel.

She set Holly back on her feet, took a last glance around the expensive Santa Monica apartment she had occupied with her late husband, surveyed the plush white carpet and chic black lacquer furniture that was Andrews taste, not hers. There was nothing homey, nothing the least bit geared toward a family. The condo was just for showno substance beyond the surface beauty. Just like Andrew.

Sarah started for the door, but the phone rang before she could reach it. She considered just letting it ring, a hollow echo now that her things were gone, but she was afraid it might be important.

She lifted the receiver and pressed it against her ear. Hello.

Sarah, this is Martin Kozak. His raspy smokers voice grated over the line. We need to talk.

A shiver went down her spine. Marty Kozak was one of Andrews business associates. A few weeks ago, Marty had started calling, trying to set up a meeting. Sarah didnt want to talk to him or any of Andrews other shady business acquaintances.

What do you want, Marty? I told you I dont know anything about Andrews affairs. He never talked to me about business. We never discussed it.

He didnt think I was smart enough, or savvy enough about finances, or he just plain didnt want to.

And Andrew never did anything he didnt want to do.

Like I told you before, Marty said, Andrew had something important I need. Did you find anything in his personal belongings? A list he might have been keeping? A computer disk, maybe, or a record book of some kind?

No. Before he died, we were barely speaking. That was an understatement. When they were together, Andrew did all the talking, mostly about himself. Sarah had been trying to leave him for years, but she had been afraid of what would happen if she did. He didnt tell me anything, and he didnt give me anything.

Maybe there was something in his personal effects.

Not that I know of.

Id like to talk to you, Sarah.

Im sorry, Marty. I was just walking out the door. Ive really got to go. By the time she hung up the phone, she was shaking. She had no idea what sort of trouble Andrew might have been in before he was killed, but she wasnt part of it and never had been.

Once you get out of town, she told herself, everything is going to be all right.

Things were bound to settle down. After her husbands murder, the police had questioned her extensively, but that had been months ago and they were certain his death was a result of his gambling debts or crooked business dealings. She figured Marty had waited for the police investigation to die down before he began to press her for whatever it was he wanted.

Sarah closed her eyes and dragged in a steadying breath. The past would fade, she told herself, and in time, even Andrews associates would leave her alone.

Grabbing Hollys hand and the big leather purse that carried everything from bandages to emergency foodbreakfast bars this morningshe took the private elevator down to the underground garage where her Mercedes, one of the few possessions Andrew had actually put in her name, was parked.

Everything else belonged solely to him and he managed to keep it that way with the prenuptial agreement she had signed. After he died, she was only mildly surprised to discover he owed more money than he had in his bank accounts and had mortgaged or sold all of the real estate he owned. He had even let his life insurance policy expire.

Sarah had been left with nothing. She had sold everything she could to raise enough money to move out of L.A., taken back her maiden name, changed Hollys name, and found a job over the internet in her home town of Wind Canyon, Wyoming. On a site for rental properties, she had happened upon a cottage on a ranch in the country not too far from town.

All she had to do was get there.

Still clutching Hollys hand, Sarah opened the rear car door, set her daughter in the booster seat and strapped her in, then rounded the vehicle and slid behind the wheel. It was a thousand-mile journey to Wyoming.

Sarah thought of Andrew, his extravagant lifestyle, his gambling and the crooked deals he made to keep the money rolling in. She thought of Marty Kozak and the rest of Andrews so-called business associates.

She wouldnt feel safe until she got there.

J ackson Raines tightened his hold on the steering wheel of his white Ford extended-cab pickup. The temperature outside was two below, the wind howling, the heavy snow blowing sideways. A Wyoming blizzard was nothing to sneeze at, even one this late in spring. Keeping his eyes carefully fixed on the road, he was surprised to see a pair of taillights up ahead, barely visible through the blowing snow, twin dots of red flashing in hazard mode, the car pulled off on the side of the road.

Jackson started slowing way before he reached the vehicle. He didnt want to slide into the damned thing, and on a road as icy as this one, it wouldnt be hard to do.

There was rarely any traffic on the narrow two lanes that led nowhere except to a couple of ranches in the area. He couldnt help wondering who would be driving out here in this kind of weather. Hell, he wouldnt be here himself if he hadnt been in town when the storm blew in, several hours earlier than expected. He should have known. In mountains like these, the weatherman was never right.