Cardwell Ranch Trespasser - By B. J. Daniels Page 0,65
now,” the woman said.
“Thank you.” Camilla walked out and got into line for the flight to Seattle. In a few minutes she would be on board.
She had hoped to catch an earlier flight, but it hadn’t worked out. Fortunately, she’d planned for this, making several flights in three different names. One in the name of Dee Anna Justice to New York. Another as Amy Matthews to Seattle. And a third flight earlier that day to Las Vegas under the name Patricia Barnes.
Like Rick, she had three different identities ready. She’d just been smart enough not to get caught with them on her, though.
She’d missed the flight to Vegas by only minutes. Finishing up her business at the ranch had taken longer than she’d hoped.
Not that it mattered now. Within minutes she would be on her way to Seattle. No one was looking for Amy Matthews.
She figured Hud must have come home sooner than expected. Or that deputy, Colt Dawson, had showed up. Either way, it would be too late.
It wasn’t as if she’d thought for a moment they wouldn’t suspect her given everything that had happened. But they had no proof.
Anyway, she would be long gone before they could get to the airport. Even if they should somehow track her down, they still couldn’t do anything except get her for using an alias. Or yes, and pretending to be Dee Anna Justice.
She’d cried her way out of more of those situations than she could remember. If tears didn’t work, then her life story definitely did. Of course she was messed up. Imagine living your life with such suspicions hanging over you.
It had worked every other time. It would now, too, because without proof, they couldn’t touch her. With Dana, Hilde and the kids gone...
She left the restroom and walked to her gate. The woman taking her boarding pass told her to hurry, her flight was about to leave.
She hurried down the ramp and into the plane just moments before the flight attendant was about to shut the door. She’d timed it close, but she hadn’t wanted to risk sitting at the gate in case anyone she knew was looking for her.
As she slipped into her first-class seat next to a businessman in a nice suit, she told herself her luck might be changing.
“Hello,” she said and extended her hand. “I’m Amy Matthews.”
“Clark Evans.”
The flight attendant asked her what she would like to drink.
“I’d love a vodka Collins,” she said. “I’m celebrating. Today’s my birthday. Join me?” she asked the business executive, taking in his gold cuff links, the cut of his suit and the expensive wristwatch.
“How can I say no?” he said, already flirting with her.
“Yes, how can you?” she asked, flirting back. “I have a feeling that this could be a very interesting flight.”
* * *
COLT RAN INTO the airport. The head of security met him the moment he came through the door.
“Dee Anna Justice hasn’t checked in for her flight. It was supposed to leave ten minutes ago,” the man told him. “We’ve held it as long as we can. So far, she’s a no-show.”
“Dee Anna Justice definitely isn’t on the flight? You checked all the passengers?”
“No one matching her description is on the flight, and everyone is accounted for,” he assured Colt.
Colt had been so sure she would make her flight. As gutsy as the woman was and as bulletproof as she’d been, she would think she had nothing to fear.
She’d already gone through security, so she’d been here. But that didn’t mean she didn’t change her mind and leave.
Maybe she was running scared, though he highly doubted it. Camilla had an arrogance born of getting away with murder.
“What other flights have left in the last hour?” he asked.
“Only one, but it’s to Seattle. The plane is taxiing down the runway right now.”
“Stop that plane.”
“I’m not sure—”
“This woman just tried to kill six people, four of them children, by burning them alive. Stop the plane. Now.”
* * *
CAMILLA WAS SIPPING her drink, smiling at her companion, when the pilot announced they would be returning to the terminal because of an instrument malfunction.
She looked past the man next to her out his window. Sunlight ricocheted off the windows of the terminal, reminding her of the day she’d flown in here. If she’d gone fishing on the Yellowstone River with Lance...
Still, even though she knew there was nothing wrong with the instruments, she wasn’t worried. The barn had been burning so quickly, the boards locking the doors would be