Into Dust

“So is your old man rich or something?” he asked and took a gulp of the whiskey.

She took a sip of her wine as if stalling, her gaze lowered. He got his first really good look at her. She was a knockout. When she lifted her eyes finally, he thought he might drown in all that blue.

“I only ask because I’m trying to understand why those men were after you.” She could be a famous model or even an actress. He didn’t follow pop culture, hardly ever watched television and hadn’t been to the movies in ages. All he knew was, at the very least, she’d grown up with money. “If you’re famous or something, I apologize for not knowing.”

* * *

CASSIDY’S HAND SHOOK as she put down her drink. She could feel the buzz of the alcohol mixing with the adrenaline still flowing through her bloodstream.

Someone had tried to abduct her! She’d grown up knowing something like this occasionally happened to the children of wealthy people in the public eye. But she’d never really been concerned because she’d grown up in Montana on a large ranch. After she’d left home, she hadn’t made a habit of telling her friends who her father was—and not because she feared being abducted.

For years, she’d tried to distance herself from the notoriety that had always surrounded her family. She’d wanted her own life, which wasn’t easy when you were an identical twin. She’d never felt like anything was truly uniquely hers. Add to that her infamous family and Cassidy just wanted to be free of what she considered a stigma.

But someone had found her. Not just found her, but had tried to kidnap her. She shuddered at the thought of what those men had planned to do with her.

“Look, I understand if you don’t want to tell me,” the Texas cowboy said. “It’s none of my business. I’ll just finish my drink and get on my way.”

Cassidy looked at the man across the table from her and felt a rush entirely different from the alcohol or the adrenaline. This man had saved her. Gratitude alone would have made her feel close to him. But there was something about him... She’d grown up around good-looking cowboys. But this one was exceptional. His dark hair was long and thick. His blue eyes laced with thick dark lashes. Maybe it was the alcohol amplifying her vision, but Jack Durand was drop-dead gorgeous and she hadn’t even noticed until this moment. Wouldn’t her friends get a laugh out of that, she thought, forgetting for the moment what had brought them together. She finished her drink, her hand a little steadier.

“Whatever you decide to do, I would suggest you call the police,” he was saying. “You aren’t safe.”

His words brought back the horrible minutes when the large man grabbed her and tried to put that stinking wet cloth in her face. Glancing toward the window to the street, she shivered. “You think they’re still looking for me?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Her gaze swung back to him. The bar was cool and dark and she felt safe sitting here with this cowboy. While a stranger, he’d risked his life to save her. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come along. I haven’t even thanked you.”

“No need to thank me. After what you’ve been through... Whatever the reason, though, I don’t think they’re going to give up.”

“Thank you and please don’t leave yet.” She was just so relieved he was here with her. What if he hadn’t come along when he had? She looked around for the waitress. She was still trembling inside, but the alcohol was helping. She really could use another drink.

He signaled for the waitress and she was grateful when he ordered another round.

“It is strange, though, that someone would be that brazen as to try to grab you in broad daylight,” he said.

Cassidy looked away for a moment. “I can’t imagine why anyone would try to...” As she turned back and met his gaze, she saw his expression turn skeptical and knew that if she wasn’t honest with him, he was going to let her deal with this on her own. Not that she could blame him.

“It probably has more to do with my father,” she added quickly.

“Your father? Who’s your father?”

“Republican presidential candidate Buckmaster Hamilton.”

He blinked. Clearly, he hadn’t connected the last name. Hamilton was pretty common so she wasn’t surprised he hadn’t made the leap. He pursed his lips, letting out a low whistle before he picked up his drink and drained it.

“That definitely puts things in perspective,” he said after a moment.

This was why she didn’t tell people about her father.

“I would think you’d have secret service watching you,” he said.

She shook her head. “They only provide agents for the underage children of candidates after the primaries.”

He looked surprised. “Well, I’m sure once you call the police—” The waitress returned with their drinks and took away the empty glasses.

She fiddled with her torn blouse. “I can’t go to the police.”

Jack seemed both surprised and maybe relieved to hear that. She didn’t blame him for not wanting to get involved. After all, he’d hit that man who was trying to abduct her. He was a hero. But that came with police reports to fill out, followed by an investigation. Once the media got involved... She quaked at the thought.

“Why don’t you want to go to the police?”

She took a sip of her wine before she said, “Do you have any idea what it’s like being the daughter of first a senator and now a presidential candidate who, according to the polls, is headed for the White House?”

“Not a clue.”

“I’ve been in the spotlight for one reason or another from as far back as I can remember.” She could feel the alcohol coursing through her blood and felt stronger. She took another sip of her wine and continued. “The rule at our house was always ‘don’t cause trouble because a scandal will hurt your father’s career.’ Since I left home to go away to school, I’ve tried hard to live my own life. But even when I thought people didn’t know who I was, I was still in my father’s shadow. Buckmaster Hamilton casts a very large shadow.”

“This friend you were staying with...”

“More like an acquaintance. But she didn’t know who my father was. Or at least I didn’t think she did.” Cassidy frowned. “Her boyfriend, though... I think he may have known. That’s the other thing about being...famous by extension. People are nice to you for the wrong reasons. It’s hard to have true friends.”

“Where were you headed earlier?” he asked, suddenly intent.

“To meet her and her...boyfriend.” Cassidy felt her eyes widen as her heart dropped. “I was set up, wasn’t I?”

* * *

JACK TRIED NOT to down his entire second drink. Cassidy was the daughter of the future president? What the hell was his father doing trying to abduct her? His father could be stubborn, worked too much, put too much value in making money and was a hard-nosed businessman. But to do something like this? It boggled his mind.

Worse, what was he going to do now? After seeing that wad of money his old man gave Ed and knowing how his father was about employees who didn’t do their jobs to suit him, Jack knew his father wouldn’t stop.

Nor would Ed. He’d be more careful next time. He’d be more prepared. But like Jack had learned, you didn’t let Tom Durand down or there would be hell to pay.

So how could he walk away now? Cassidy would be a sitting duck. And he didn’t want to think about what his father would do when he found out that Jack was involved in fouling his plans.

“Look,” he said to Cassidy. “You have no reason to trust me.” On the surface, he looked like an urban cowboy today instead of the former rodeo cowboy who’d grown up on a huge ranch outside of Houston. His father had bought the ranch as a tax deduction and given it to him lock, stock and barrel when he turned twenty-one. But the deal had always been that he would take over his father’s import/export business at some point.

Once he told his father he had no interest in doing that, that’s when it seemed Tom Durand had changed. Now he wondered if he’d ever known his father at all.

Clearly, the last thing he could do was tell Cassidy who he really was or that he thought he knew who was behind her attack—at least until he had proof.

So he stretched the truth. “But if you’ll let me, I’ll try to keep you safe until we can find out who is behind this and why.”

She took a drink of her second glass of wine. He could see from the shine in her eyes that she was feeling the alcohol. His plan hadn’t been to get her tipsy, let alone drunk. He’d just needed a drink to calm his nerves and a place where they were safe so he could think what to do next.

“What do you have in mind?” she asked.

He wasn’t that surprised that she was willing to trust him. She’d already proved she was too trusting given that she’d trust the acquaintance and boyfriend. But what did he have in mind? His thoughts raced as he considered how he could keep her safe—and yet find out the truth about his father’s involvement.

“We’re going to have to hide you out somewhere until I can get to the bottom of this. For starters, who knew you were in Houston besides this so-called friend and her boyfriend?”

“No one.”

That surprised him. “Not even your family?”

She shook her head. “They think I’m still in New York with a Frenchman I met while studying abroad.”

A Frenchman. Great. “So not even the Frenchman knows?”

Again she shook her head.

“Okay.” He studied her. “Also, you’re too cute and too blonde and too easy to recognize.”

She grinned, taking it as a compliment. “How about if I was a redhead?”

“I’m thinking brunette. I don’t know how you feel about cutting your hair...”

Cassidy shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about cutting it,” she said as she pulled a long lank of her blond hair around to consider it. “A brunette, huh? So a disguise?” The idea seemed to appeal to her. He wondered if it would have before her last glass of wine.

Even with the changes he was suggesting, she’d still be adorable, there was no getting around that. She had one of those classic faces, huge blue eyes, a button nose and bow-shaped mouth. She looked so damned innocent that he felt a stab of guilt. He wasn’t much better than her pretend friends she’d been staying with. Except that he wouldn’t sell her out.

He recalled hearing his father talking about the election and the Hamilton family. Cassidy’s mother, Sarah Johnson Hamilton, had returned from the dead about a year ago. Apparently, she’d tried to kill herself more than twenty-three years before by driving into the Yellowstone River. Her body was never found.

Then one day she just showed up—with no memory of the years she’d been gone. He remembered his father saying that her six daughters were now adults. He frowned as he recalled that the two youngest, twin girls, had only been a few months old when they’d lost their mother.

Going by age, that would have been Cassidy, he realized with a start. There was another one like her? He wondered where she was and if she was safe. His father had remarked that he couldn’t believe how much that family had been through. Hadn’t their stepmother died last year in a car wreck?

“You’re sure you don’t want to change your mind and go to the police?” he asked, feeling he had to give it one more shot since it was the smart thing to do—even if it would involve him and force him to lie. Whatever differences he and his father had, he wasn’t throwing him under a bus until he knew the truth.

“If I go to the police, my name will be in every newspaper and so will my father’s. And what is it you think the police can do to protect me? My father would insist I come home so he could hire guards. Or maybe I would get agents watching me 24/7. I wouldn’t be able to leave the ranch. And for how long? Until after the election? Or until he was no longer president? No, thanks.”

He’d forgotten for a moment that Buckmaster Hamilton was a Montana rancher, a former senator and now Republican candidate for president. Cassidy was one of six sisters. Was that another reason she didn’t tell people who she was? He’d thought living under his father’s domineering thumb was hard. Imagine what being one of Buckmaster Hamilton’s daughters would be like if he was as protective as she said.

But without the cops or the feds, the two of them were on their own. And Jack had no idea what they were up against. All he knew was that he now had the assumed future president’s daughter’s life in his hands.

CHAPTER THREE

“SARAH, I DON’T UNDERSTAND.” Republican presidential hopeful Buckmaster Hamilton paced the floor, his phone to his ear, his impatience wearing a path in the carpet. “I love you. I thought you were moving into the main house on the ranch. No more hiding, no more lying about how we feel about each other.”

“Buck, can’t we talk about this when you get home?”

“No, four months ago you went to your house to pack and the next thing I know you tell me you can’t move in until after the primaries. Well, the primaries are over. I need you. I can’t keep—” He heard the door open behind him. “I have to go.” He disconnected and turned to face his campaign manager, who’d come in with a stack of papers, no doubt the latest polls.

“Sarah? Is that who you were talking to?” Jerrod Williston asked in an impatient tone. “Buck—”

“Don’t start,” he said, holding up both hands. “I’m trying to put my family back together. I know I’ve been a little distracted.”

“You’ve been more than a little distracted. On top of that, all the media wants to know now is how your love life is going instead of talking about your platform. You’re the Republican presidential candidate. If you hope to stand a chance in hell of winning this election, you have to start acting like a president instead of a lovesick fool.”

“Tell me how you really feel.” He waved a hand through the air, afraid Jerrod would only go off again. More and more he was having his doubts about this run for president. Was this his dream anymore? Or was he trying to do this for his father, JD Hamilton? JD had withdrawn from the race because of a woman. Wasn’t Jerrod’s fear that Buck would do the same thing?

He’d had so much trouble with his family since he’d thrown his hat into the ring last year. But last year there had been no chance of having Sarah. He was still married to Angelina. He had been ready to throw away everything he’d worked for and divorce Angelina before she’d been killed in a car wreck.

Buckmaster felt a wave of guilt. Angelina’s death had worked in his favor, but he hated like hell how it happened. Now the only thing keeping him and Sarah apart was this damned election. That was why Sarah was dragging her feet, wasn’t it? Unlike Angelina, she’d never wanted to live in the White House.

So he couldn’t help questioning if bowing out now wasn’t the best thing for them. He needed Sarah. Maybe if he quit he could pull his family back together again. Then his daughters might come around and get closer to their mother.

Sarah was disappointed that the girls never called her. Harper was making an effort, but Cassidy had barely said two words to any of them. Buck had no idea what was going on with his youngest. He hadn’t heard from her either.

“You’re tired. This campaign has been taxing. You’ve had a lot on your mind,” Jerrod said. “You just need some rest and then we’ll—”

“I need my wife, I need my family.”

Jerrod let out an impatient breath as if he’d heard this too many times. “Sarah isn’t your wife. A wedding right now is the last thing you need. Win this election, then you can throw yourself a wedding on the White House lawn with all your daughters as attendants.”

Buck raked a hand through his hair. He’d noticed this morning in the mirror that he was getting grayer. It was no wonder given what he’d gone through in the past year. If it hadn’t been his first wife, Sarah, it had been his second wife, Angelina, or one of his six daughters. He was trying to keep his family together and run for president. He’d always felt that he owed it to his party, to his country. But right now he felt as if he had nothing left to give.

Jerrod came over to the desk in the room and put down the stack of papers he’d been holding. “You’re doing well in the polls. You have this. Try to have a little patience. Even the voting public is on your side. So don’t do anything to screw it up. Sarah isn’t going anywhere.”

He wasn’t so sure about that, recalling how Sarah had been ready to marry Russell Murdock not that long ago. Murdock had almost run her over when she’d come stumbling out of the woods last year. Until that moment, she’d had no memory of the hours before—or the past twenty-two years. She knew only that she had jumped from a plane and parachuted into those Montanan woods. After landing in a tree, she’d managed to climb down and walk some distance to the dirt road where Murdock had almost hit her. He’d been her protector and probably still was. Buck didn’t blame Sarah for agreeing to marry the man. Russell was apparently nice enough and at the time, Buck had been married to Angelina.

With Angelina dead for almost a year now, there was no reason he and Sarah couldn’t be together. Even the media had taken it easy on him when he’d admitted to a woman on the plane—who’d turned out to be a reporter—that he was still in love with his first wife. He’d thought her dead for twenty-two years, so no one could blame him for remarrying. Angelina had supported his political ambition. She’d been determined to put him in the White House. But she hadn’t lived to see that happen.

Now there was nothing standing in the way of him and Sarah being together. Nothing but this damned election.

* * *

CASSIDY AND JACK found a small market only a half block from the bar and bought what they needed. They’d grabbed a cab outside the store. Fifteen blocks away, the driver let them out at a run-down hotel.

Jack had looked over at her, his expression pained. “We can look for some other place if this is—”

“It’s perfect,” she said, gazing out at the large brick building. Maybe it was the drinks she’d had, but she felt as if she was a character in a thriller movie. “No one will be looking for me here,” she said, thinking how true that was. The memory of the large man who’d grabbed her on the street seemed surreal now. It had happened so fast that it felt more like a nightmare she’d now awakened from. Had it really happened or had she dreamed it?

Wired on adrenaline and alcohol, she had leaped at the idea of a disguise. For so long she’d wanted to be someone different. Now she was getting her chance. It didn’t hurt that a handsome Texas cowboy was her sidekick.

Jack chuckled as they got out of the taxi. “I hope you don’t regret this.”

Her whole life she’d been protected and pampered. She hadn’t taken chances. Hadn’t experienced any crazy adventures because scandalized behavior would hurt her father.

But now someone had tried to kidnap her—because of who her father was no doubt. She felt as if all bets were off. Had her whole life been heading toward this moment? Or was she deluding herself because she didn’t want to face just how dangerous this still was?

Jack paid at the scarred desk and then led her to the old elevator. It cranked and groaned as it climbed to the fourth floor. The hallway they stepped out into needed paint and new carpeting badly. It had an odd smell, one she didn’t recognize and didn’t want to try to place.

Jack put the old-fashioned key into the lock, turned and pushed open the door to their room. Cassidy hadn’t been expecting much, which was good. The hotel room was dark, dingy and sad.

“You sure this is going to work for you?” Jack asked, looking somewhat taken aback by their surroundings.

She laughed. “See why I don’t tell anyone who my father is? They start treating me like I’m a princess. I’ve roughed it camping out in the Crazy Mountains as a kid. I can take one bad hotel room.” She stepped in, going straight to the window. After she attempted to open it for what little fresh air there might be, Jack came up behind her and lifted it a few inches. Just the closeness of him sent a shiver of anticipation through her.

Cassidy wondered if he felt it as well and that’s why he quickly stepped away. Hot air rushed in but it smelled better.

Turning, she spotted the bags he’d brought up. Digging out the scissors and hair dye, she headed for the bathroom, leaving the door open.

“I saw a used clothing place around the corner,” Jack said from the other part of the hotel room. “I’ll go get you something else to wear.”

“Don’t you need to know my size?” she asked, turning in the bathroom doorway, scissors in hand.

He grinned as his gaze took her in. She felt warmth flood her. “I think I have it covered. Keep the door locked. I won’t be long.”

* * *

JACK HURRIED, not wanting to leave Cassidy alone for long. Inside the used-clothing shop, he quickly went to what he believed was her size and sorted through the clothes for something appropriate. Appropriate would be something totally different from what Cassidy had been wearing.

All the time, his mind was racing as to what to do next. They needed somewhere to hide her while he tried to figure out what to do. If his father was as deeply involved in this as he suspected... He had to know the truth. Short of asking him outright, he realized there was only one way he might be able to find out what was going on.

Now, he knew that his father had secrets. It was something he’d suspected, he realized, for a long while. When he’d worked at the warehouse, he’d discovered a locked drawer in his father’s desk. When he’d asked him about it, Tom Durand had said he just kept a little spare cash in it. He’d joked that he better never find it missing or he’d know who had taken it. Even at the time, Jack had questioned why his father would keep spare cash at the office. Tom Durand always carried a couple of grand on him.

Now Jack wanted to know what was really in that locked drawer. Which meant he’d have to go to the warehouse tonight. He knew he had to move quickly. If he was right and one of the men had recognized him, then his father would try to cover up any improprieties.

But what to do with Cassidy? He couldn’t leave her at the hotel. It didn’t feel safe with her alone. But where?

With several outfits he thought would work for her, he checked out and headed back to the hotel. Before he’d left, he’d put his gun under one of the pillows on the bed. He didn’t like walking around Houston with a loaded weapon even though he had a permit to carry it.

When he reached the hotel room, he used his key to open the door. He could hear her moving around in the bathroom and tried to relax. She was safe. At least for the moment.

He’d just placed the bag with his purchases on the bed when she came out of the bathroom. Her brunette hair was cut in a short bob that framed her face. The dark color brought out the tiny trail of freckles that arched over her nose and made her blue eyes look even larger. He stopped short at the sight of her.

“Is it that bad?” she asked in alarm.

He shook his head. “It’s that good. You look...amazing.”

She laughed, clearly relieved. “Isn’t it wild?” Rushing toward the bed, she said, “Let’s see what you got me to wear.” She held up the skirt and peasant blouse that went with it. “Oh, these are great. I can’t wait to try them on.” With that, she turned and hurried back into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

He stared after her, surprised by her excitement—and a little worried. The woman was excited about wearing hand-me-down clothing that hadn’t even cost him twenty bucks? People reacted differently to fear, he knew, but Cassidy almost seemed to be treating this as if they were on some undercover adventure instead of probably running for their lives.

* * *

BUCK REALIZED HIS campaign manager was still speaking.

“What about your girls? Are they on board?”

He thought about his six daughters. He wouldn’t exactly say they were on board when it came to his political career. They’d grown up used to politics being discussed at meals, they’d lived through his run for senator and the subsequent years of his being gone to Washington.