Roughshod Justice Read online

  “But you don’t know that, do you? In fact, you don’t know much of anything right now because of this so-called amnesia.”

  “I know you’re not taking her without an arrest warrant,” Jameson said, “and you’re not going to get one because you don’t have enough evidence against her.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Again, it sounded like a threat, and Jameson doubted the man would just give up.

  Kelly let out a long breath after Boyer walked out, but she kept her eyes on him until he was no longer in sight. “I wish I could remember what I did to make him come after me like this.”

  “You don’t know?” August asked, but it wasn’t exactly a question. It was an isn’t-it-obvious tone.

  The three of them just stared at August, and Jameson motioned for him to continue.

  August did after he huffed. “Boyer believes Kelly has his little girl stashed away somewhere. And he’ll do anything to force Kelly to give him back the child.”

  Chapter Six

  Kelly jolted herself out of the dream. Or rather the nightmare. Images of gunmen trying to kill her.

  Other images, too.

  Before she opened her eyes, she could see some of the images. Watery bits of colors. Faces. Some of those faces were of her attackers, but one of them belonged to Mandy. Even though Kelly still didn’t have any real memories of Mandy, she was certain that it was her kid sister.

  That brought on the ache that was already heavy in her heart. Her sister was missing, and she wasn’t able to help her. Mandy could be hurt. Dying. And here she was safe. For the moment anyway. But Kelly didn’t exactly feel welcome here.

  That’s because she was in the guest room at Jameson’s house on his family’s ranch.

  Jameson didn’t want her at his place. Actually, he didn’t want to be with her at all. She knew that. However, they hadn’t exactly had a lot of options, considering he wanted to keep her close in case she remembered something that could help them unravel the reason behind the two attacks.

  She checked the time on the clock, nearly 6:00 a.m., so Kelly got up and used the shower in the en suite bath. Her muscles were sore and stiff, but the pain was minor compared to her head. She was tempted to take some of the meds the doctor had given her after the exam at the sheriff’s office, but she was afraid the pills would dull her memories even more.

  She dressed, changing into the clothes Jameson had left for her the night before. The jeans and shirt were loaners from his sister Ivy, and they were much needed, too, since Kelly’s own clothes had been covered with blood. She wasn’t sure she would have been able to put them back on.

  When she was done with the clothes, she made the mistake of looking in the mirror, and the jolt of seeing herself was as bad as the nightmare. That’s because it was a stranger staring back at her.

  Kelly touched her fingers to the bandage on her head. Whoever had hit her had probably been trying to kill her. Not exactly a thought to settle her queasy stomach. But what the person had done was take away who she was. Her name was Kelly Stockwell, but there were just a few traces of herself now. That had to change.

  But how?

  That question was repeating in her mind when she heard the footsteps. Kelly automatically reached for her gun—which she didn’t have. She’d had the security guard’s backup weapon during the hospital attack, but Jameson had arranged for it to be returned to the man. Too bad. Because she might need it now.

  Or not.

  There was a knock at the door, and a moment later Jameson opened it. “I heard you up,” he said.

  Not exactly a warm greeting, but there was some warmth when he looked her over. Unwanted warmth, no doubt. He stood with his forehead bunched up as if waiting for something. But that’s when Kelly realized she hadn’t buttoned the shirt. Her bare stomach and a skimpy white loaner bra were showing. She quickly fixed that and mumbled an apology.

  “I don’t have my memory back yet,” Kelly volunteered just to get that out of the way.

  He made a sound, a rumble deep in his chest that could have meant anything. “There’s coffee.”

  Kelly didn’t know if she drank it or not, but she followed him to the kitchen and poured herself a cup. She tried it black, winced and heard Jameson make another sound. Maybe amusement this time.

  “I guess that proves you’re not faking the memory loss.” He slid a small bowl her way. “You’ll want three or four spoons of sugar in that.”

  She added three, sipped, then dumped in the fourth. Yes, that tasted right. It didn’t surprise her that they’d obviously had coffee together. However, she was a little surprised that Jameson remembered how she took it. Maybe he’d had trouble erasing her from his mind—something that Kelly was certain he would like to do.

  “Anything on my sister?” she asked. She sat at the table. Jameson didn’t, though. With his coffee in hand, he went to the window to look out.

  “Sorry, no. But the cops and Rangers are looking.” He had a sip of his coffee before he said anything else. “I found out that August hired a couple of PIs to investigate Boyer. Not just Boyer’s professional life, but his missing daughter, as well.”

  She could have sworn her heart skipped a beat. “Please tell me I didn’t really take his child.” Because even though she didn’t remember August, Kelly had hoped that the man was wrong about that.

  Jameson lifted his shoulder. “Boyer might truly believe you had something to do with it, but there’s no proof that you did.”

  Thank goodness. That was something, at least. Though if she had done something like that, at least it would have been motive for Boyer to come after her. But then she had to shake her head.

  “If Boyer is behind the attacks, why would he have coerced me into killing you?” Kelly asked.

  “Maybe to throw suspicion off himself.” Jameson answered it so quickly that he’d almost certainly given it plenty of thought. “This way, it would look as if this were between you and me and not between you and him.”

  Yes, and if he blamed her for taking his child, he would want revenge. Well, maybe. “He couldn’t risk killing me if he believes I know where the child is,” she pointed out. “Yet those gunmen seemed to have orders to eliminate us.”

  The moment Kelly said that, something hit her. And it wasn’t something good.

  “If Mandy also knew the location of the child,” she went on, “she could have told Boyer. Then he wouldn’t need me around. Or Mandy.”

  It suddenly felt as if someone had clamped a fist around her heart and kept squeezing. Her sister was at the mercy of someone who wanted her dead.

  “Don’t,” Jameson said. “Boyer isn’t our only suspect. August could have forced you to kill me because he hates me for putting Travis behind bars. He could have used you to do that.”

  True. But even if this was just directed at Jameson, it didn’t help. Obviously, someone was after both of them. Heck, maybe Jameson’s entire family.

  “I’ve been looking for a possible money trail for the person who hired those thugs,” Jameson went on. “I managed to get court orders for both Boyer and August.”

  Jameson had been busy. And lucky. Kelly figured it wasn’t easy to get a court order for a federal agent’s financials. “What did you find?”

  “Nothing on Boyer, but then he could have some offshore or hidden accounts. Also he could have cash stashed away. A lot of it. He got a lawsuit settlement a while back for a car accident involving a drunk driver.”

  Having cash wasn’t a good thing in this case, because they’d never know if Boyer had used it to hire hit men. Or kidnap Mandy.

  “August is a different story,” he went on. “Because of the attacks and threats that have been going on for the past couple of months, we’ve been keeping an eye on his financials. He’s rich, by the way. A huge trust fund that he taps into regularly to pay for attorneys and PIs t
o clear his brother’s name.”

  Yes, and she’d apparently been one of those PIs.

  “The money trail definitely leads to August, but it’s almost too obvious,” Jameson quickly added. “The funds came from an offshore account that was set up just last week. I’m sure August will say that it’s bogus, and it’ll be hard to prove that it’s not.”

  Especially since someone with Boyer’s federal connections could have easily done something like that. But that led Kelly to something else that she’d considered.

  “Is it possible that when I was working for August I uncovered something that would, well, incriminate August himself?” she asked.

  “Maybe. The file you stole from me had plenty about him in it, including my personal notes.”

  She remembered Boyer and him talking about this. Jameson had considered August a suspect in his parents’ murders because Jameson’s father had been investigating August at the time. But maybe she had used whatever was in that file to lead her to something else.

  Like August’s guilt.

  That could possibly explain why she’d disappeared two years ago. Of course, the obvious reason she’d left was because Jameson hated her for stealing that file. She hated herself for doing it, too. Kelly hoped when her memories returned that there was a better reason for her taking it other than her just doing her job.

  And that brought her back to what was happening now.

  If August was connected to the attacks, then the motive had to go back to the file. Or maybe to what’d happened ten years ago.

  “Did Travis admit to killing your parents?” she asked. But Kelly wished she hadn’t. Jameson’s long, weary breath told her this was a topic that was still picking away at those old wounds he had.

  “No. He was an alcoholic and had blackouts. Like you, he has memory issues.”

  That sounded a little like a dig, but she couldn’t blame him. If Travis remembered what happened that night, then it might help them solve who was behind the attacks.

  “Part of me wishes it weren’t Travis,” Jameson continued a moment later. “Because Travis’s son and daughter are involved with my brother and sister.”

  Yes, that did create some bad family dynamics. Of course, maybe Travis’s children hated their father for what he’d done. The Beckett murders had certainly created a lot of pain and suffering for those who’d been left behind.

  Heck, it was still creating it because of those threats Jameson had mentioned and the attacks.

  “You have someone protecting your sisters?” Kelly asked.

  He nodded. “Ivy’s engaged to a DEA agent, Theo. He won’t let anything happen to her. They’re staying at Gabriel’s for now with him and his wife, Jodi. My other sister, Lauren, is engaged to Cameron, the deputy who works here.”

  Kelly figured she’d met these people. Or at least had known about them. But that, too, was lost in the jumble of memories.

  “Even if your sisters are being protected, it’s too dangerous for me to stay here,” she reminded him. “In fact, I probably shouldn’t be anywhere near you.”

  He glanced at her, his eyebrow raised. Maybe he’d taken that the wrong way. As in she shouldn’t be near him because of the attraction, but his eyebrow lowered just as quickly.

  “Once I get an update from Gabriel, we’ll weigh the options,” he answered. “Plus, you should probably go back to the hospital and press the doctor to see if he can do anything about your amnesia.”

  “No. Not after what happened. Besides, the doctor ran tests.” Of course, those test results hadn’t told her what she needed to know—would her memory ever return? Or would she be like this forever?

  Jameson kept his attention pinned out the window, which made her wonder just how long he’d been keeping watch. Hopefully, not all night. Though that might explain why he was drinking the coffee like water. He poured himself another cup and went right back to the window.

  Kelly joined him so she could get a better look at the place. When they’d arrived the night before, it’d already been too dark for her to see much. However, she certainly saw it now. The ranch was huge.

  “All of this is Beckett land?” she asked.

  “Yeah. My great-grandfather originally bought it and passed it down the generations. When my folks died...Gabriel, Ivy, Lauren and I inherited it.”

  He paused over the word died, and she noticed the sudden tightness of his jaw. His parents’ murders were obviously still a raw wound.

  Kelly leaned closer to the window so she could see the road that led up from a large house. Gabriel’s, probably. There was also a house on the other side of the property, but it clearly wasn’t occupied and appeared to have some recent damage.

  “We had a fire last month,” Jameson said, following her gaze. “Someone tried to go after my sister and her fiancé.”

  So the Becketts weren’t new to attacks. But that still didn’t mean Kelly should be there to bring more danger to their doorsteps.

  “We’ve been getting threats for a while now,” he went on. “There’s been some press about the anniversary of the murders, and that sometimes brings out the lunatics and copycats.”

  “It’s a shame because, despite everything, this is still your home.” She paused. “Did you bring me here when we, uh, were seeing each other?”

  He nodded, then drank more of his coffee. “Remember anything about it?”

  Kelly glanced around the large open kitchen and living room. There was nothing familiar. So she closed her eyes to try again. Some images came. Fast and blurry. As she’d done with the nightmare, she tried to pick through them. And she finally did.

  “You have a tattoo,” Kelly blurted out, and she looked at his shoulder. She couldn’t see the tat, of course, because he was wearing a shirt, but if her memory was right, it was a dragon.

  Another nod to verify the tat. But he didn’t verify anything else about it. Especially the fact that he would have had to be partially undressed for her to have seen it.

  Jameson finally turned to her, but it wasn’t exactly a loving look he gave her. He checked her bandage. Frowned. And gave it a slight adjustment. Of course, for that to happen, he had to touch her. His fingertips brushed against her skin, and the shiver went through her.

  Kelly stepped back. And Jameson noticed. He probably noticed her reaction to him, as well. He stared at her as if he was about to say something, but then his phone rang, the sound shooting through the room. He touched her again, moving her back from the window, before he set aside his coffee and took his phone from his pocket.

  “It’s Gabriel,” he said. Jameson hit the answer button and put the call on speaker. “Kelly’s next to me,” he added to his brother.

  She hoped that didn’t cause Gabriel to hold back something he might have said, but the sheriff’s long pause told her that he would probably at least try to soften any bad news.

  “McGill, the gunman, is finally talking,” Gabriel explained, “but he’s still insisting it was Kelly who hired him.”

  “He’s lying,” she repeated.

  Neither man had a reaction to that, and Gabriel just continued. “I offered him a plea deal. He’d have to give me proof that it was Kelly who hired him, and in exchange I’d ask the DA for lesser charges. McGill didn’t go for it.”

  “Maybe because he figures he’s a dead man if he says anything,” Jameson quickly provided. “Or else there’s no proof to be found.”

  Kelly groaned. She hated to think there was nothing out there that could clear her name. “Maybe someone made McGill believe I was the one behind it,” she suggested. “Maybe someone posing as me through phone conversations and such.” It couldn’t have been a face-to-face pretense, though, because McGill had gotten a close look at her in the hospital parking lot.

  “That’s my guess, too,” Gabriel agreed. “Of course, he could have a more personal stake
in this. Perhaps someone kidnapped a family member or his boss could be a friend. We’re looking into any connections between McGill, August and Boyer.”

  Good. Because if they could make a link like that, it would put a quicker end to this investigation.

  “I did talk to a few of Boyer’s fellow agents,” Gabriel added, “and, yeah, he does believe Kelly assisted in taking his daughter. Apparently, Kelly knew Boyer’s ex, Hadley, and Boyer believes Hadley convinced Kelly to help her take the child.”

  “But why? Was Boyer abusive?” Kelly asked.

  “Not according to anyone I spoke with, but no one had anything good to say about Hadley. People agreed that she was controlling and manipulative. She could have maybe made you believe that the baby and she were in danger. That could explain why you would do something like that.”

  Yes, it could. However, Kelly still couldn’t remember Hadley or this baby. She forced herself to think, to try to sort through those memory fragments again. This time, she got a too-clear image of Jameson.

  Naked.

  It was so clear that she made a sound of surprise. A sound that certainly got Jameson’s attention. “What is it?” he demanded.

  She waved him off and was about to lie and say it was nothing, but another image came. Not of Jameson this time.

  But of a baby.

  A little girl with dark hair, and she was smiling. The image came and went in a flash, but it was just as clear as the one of Jameson.

  “Oh, God.” Kelly touched her fingers to her mouth. Both her mouth and hand were trembling now. “I might have taken her.”

  Jameson stared at her. Gabriel cursed. “What do you remember?” Gabriel snapped.

  “Nothing other than seeing her in my mind. I can’t recall anything about kidnapping her.”

  “You might not have,” Jameson said. “It’s possible Hadley brought her to you.”

  True. But where was the child now? Hadley was dead, and Kelly instinctively knew there was no way she’d leave the child alone.