B.J. Daniels - Smokin' Six-Shooter

“Thank you.” Dulcie ducked out from under his arms and stood back to watch him drag it out of the way. He wasn’t just tall, she realized. His shoulder muscles bunched, stretching the fabric of his Western shirt across broad shoulders. And as he opened the gate, she got a good look at his backside.

“Mind if I ask what you’re planning to do here?” He gestured toward the house.

“Having a look around.”

He leaned against the gatepost, studying her. “I hadn’t taken you for one of them.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The morbidly curious.”

Dulcie felt something in her tense. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you? A woman was murdered in that house.”

BJ DANIELSwrote her first book after a career as an award-winning newspaper journalist and author of thirty-seven published short stories. That first book, Odd Man Out, received a 4½ star review from Romantic Times Book Reviews magazine and went on to be nominated for Best Intrigue for that year. Since then she has won numerous awards, including a career achievement award for romantic suspense and numerous nominations and awards for best book.

Daniels lives in Montana with her husband, Parker, and two springer spaniels, Spot and Jem. When she isn’t writing, she snowboards, camps, boats and plays tennis.

Daniels is a member of Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, Thriller Writers, Kiss of Death and Romance Writers of America.

To contact her, write to PO Box 1173, Malta, MT 59538, USA, or e-mail her at bjdaniels@mtintouch.net. Check out her webpage at www.bjdaniels.com.

SMOKIN’

SIX-SHOOTER

BY

BJ DANIELS

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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“There must be some mistake.” Dulcie Hughes shifted in her chair, anxious to flee the lawyer’s office. “We’ve covered everything my parents left me in their estate.”

“Not this particular part of your inheritance,” he said and cleared this throat. For years Lawrence Brooks, Sr., had been her parents’ attorney, but upon his death his youngest son, Herbert, had taken over his father’s law practice.

Herbert was in his early thirties, only a few years older than Dulcie herself, a tall, prematurely balding man with tiny brown eyes and a nervous twitch.

Today though he seemed even more nervous than usual, which made her pay closer attention as he handed her the documents.

“What is this?” she asked, frowning. Her elderly parents had discussed all their financial arrangements with her at length for years. She’d never seen this before.

“You’ve been left some property in Montana.”

“Montana?”

He tried to still his hands as he waited for her to read the documents.

“My parents never mentioned anything about having property in Montana.” She read the name. “Who is Laura Beaumont?”

“You don’t know?”

She shook her head. “I’ve never heard the name before. This is all the information you have?”

“Apparently Laura Beaumont’s estate was being held for you in a trust until their deaths, taking care of the expenses. That’s all I can tell you.” He stood abruptly, signaling an end to their business.

Dulcie didn’t move. “Are you saying this is all you know or this is all you’re allowed to tell me?”

“If you want to know more, I would suggest you obtain an attorney of your own to look into the matter further,” he said, tapping his fingertips on his desk as he waited impatiently for her to leave. “Or go to Montana yourself.” He made the latter sound imprudent.

“Maybe I’ll do that,” Dulcie said, rising to her feet and tucking the papers into her shoulder bag.

“As your parents’ attorney, that completes our business,” Herbert said, sounding glad of it.

For the past four months, she’d been grieving the loss of her parents and not in the least interested in dealing with the financial aspects of that loss.

As the only heir of Brad and Kathy Hughes, she’d known she would be inheriting a sizable estate. Not that she needed it. Straight out of college, she and a friend had opened a boutique that had taken off.

After establishing more than a dozen such shops across the country, she and Renada had sold the businesses six months ago and made enough that she would never have to work again if she invested the money wisely, which of course she had.

She’d been trying to decide what to do next when her seventy-two-year-old father had taken ill. Her mother had never been strong, suffering from a weak heart. But to lose both of them within a few weeks had been crushing.

Now, months later, she felt even more at loose ends.

As she left the lawyer’s office, her cell phone rang.

“So it’s over?” asked her friend and former business partner tentatively. Renada had wanted to come along with her to see the lawyer, knowing how hard this was for her. But Dulcie had needed to do this on her own. She needed to get used to doing a lot of things on her own.

“All done,” she said, patting the papers she’d stuffed into her shoulder bag.

“Up for lunch?” Renada asked.

“Absolutely. I’m starved.” And she was, she realized.

It wasn’t until after they’d eaten and she was feeling better for the first time in months that she told her friend about the Montana property.

“It’s very odd,” she said, digging out the papers the lawyer had given her. “I’ve been left property in Montana from someone named Laura Beaumont.”

“Seriously? How much?”

“Apparently a hundred and sixty acres just outside of Whitehorse, Montana.”

“Where is that?”

“I haven’t a clue.”

“Aren’t you curious about this Laura Beaumont?”

“Yes, but it’s so strange that my parents never mentioned this woman or anything about the property, even though Laura Beaumont left it to me years ago.”

“Your parents never even went to Montana to see what you’d been left?”

“Apparently not. We went to Yellowstone Park one summer. Wouldn’t you think they’d have mentioned the property?”

“Or taken you there. Unless it’s in the middle of nowhere and they had no interest in it. You are going to check it out, aren’t you?”

Dulcie knew her friend had been worried about her, urging her to come up with another business venture to help get her through her loss. “Do you want to go with me?”

Renada shook her head ruefully. “I’d love to, but I can’t leave right now. I just agreed to teach some clothing design classes at the community university.”

“Good for you,” Dulcie said, excited for her friend. Renada had always talked about doing something like this when she had the time. Their boutiques had kept them so busy she’d never gotten the chance. Now there was nothing keeping her from it.