FINN WATCHED CASEY CRENSHAW’S eyes widen in fresh alarm. He’d startled her again. Clearly, she hadn’t expected to find him here. He’d thought it was just because he’d obviously arrived early—months early. Now as she took another step back toward the open doorway, he half expected her to pull the trigger on that peashooter she had pointed at him.
“I’m calling the marshal,” she said as she reached into her shoulder bag with her free hand and came out with her cell phone. “I hope you enjoy the Sleepy Pine—after you’re released from jail for trespassing.” She thumbed in three numbers. He’d thought about stopping her but instead crossed his arms over his chest and simply watched her. It would have been so easy to disarm her and take both the phone and the gun from her.
“Yes,” she said into the phone moments later. “This is Casey Crenshaw. I own the Crenshaw Hotel here in Buckhorn. I found a trespasser living on my property.” Her gaze locked with his. “Yes, I’m in possible imminent danger. He looks very dangerous. You’re on your way? Wonderful. Yes, I’ll do that. I’m on the second floor. Come in the back. It’s where he broke in.” She tapped the phone.
“Are you finished?” Finn asked. “I could see that you didn’t make the call. We both know it would take Leroy longer than twenty minutes to get here since the marshal has to come clear across the county to get to Buckhorn. Also, the last thing you want is people in town to see a cop car come racing into the parking lot of the hotel. Everyone would know that you’re back in town, something I’m betting you want to avoid as long as you can, given what they’ve been saying about you.” He took a breath and let it out. “Shall I go on?”
CASEY GLARED AT HIM, hating that he’d seen through her ruse. Worse, he’d seen through her. She hadn’t called 9-1-1 because, like he’d said, it could be an hour before the marshal showed up and she didn’t want the attention. She’d hoped he would fall for her bluff. He hadn’t. How did this man know so much not just about her plans but also think he knew all about her as well?
And he was obviously deranged if he thought she’d invited him for the weekend. There had to be something seriously wrong with him. Why else would a multibillionaire be hiding out here looking for a ghost?
“If you don’t leave now—”
He held up both hands. “Look, it seems there’s been a misunderstanding. I’ll call Shirley at the motel and have her save me a room for tonight, and then I will pack up and leave.” She listened to him make the call, talking to Shirley Langer as if they were old friends. Earlier he’d sounded as if he knew the marshal as well. It seemed so strange to her. The townspeople, it appeared, had come to know Finn better than they knew her since it had been ten years since she’d been back here.
He looked resigned as he disconnected and started to load clothing into his duffel bag.
She watched him pack, worried about him. Worried for him. He obviously needed help. “Shouldn’t you call someone to let them know that you’re alive and well and in Buckhorn, Montana?”
“I’d prefer not.”
“Isn’t there someone who is worried about you—family, friends, financial adviser?”
He cracked a smile before he sobered. “I lost both of my parents last year. There isn’t anyone who needs to know where I am.” As if on cue, his phone buzzed in his jeans pocket. He pulled it out, checked the screen and quickly declined the call.
“Someone knows you’re here,” she said suspiciously.
“It was Earl Ray. I’ll call him later.”
Earl Ray, the local war hero, was calling Finn? Talk about making himself at home here in Buckhorn. Surely Earl Ray had figured out who Finn really was. Maybe he was calling because he was trying to help the man.
“Maybe you should call him back,” she said. He’d been missing for months. “Clearly, someone is worried about you.”
“Earl Ray?” Finn laughed. “He’s just looking for someone to play chess with him over at the bakery while he waits for Bessie to finish making...” He seemed to give it some thought. “It’s Friday, so she’ll be making fried pies, one of Earl Ray’s many favorites. He’ll be fine without me. But thanks for your concern. As for the rest of the world, I would just as soon keep my whereabouts quiet for a while longer. Unless you plan to tell the media that you’ve found me.”
And bring reporters to Buckhorn in force? Not likely.
“Surely the locals know who you are.”
He chuckled. “They think I’ve been squatting in your hotel for months because I’m homeless. They’ve been very kind. I’m fine with them not knowing, either. When people know...well, they start treating me differently.” He gave her a look as if she was one of them.
“Well, as long as you leave, your secret is safe with me.” But she didn’t buy for a minute that he was staying in this abandoned old hotel to see Megan’s ghost. How had he even heard about Megan? The murder hadn’t hit national news. Not even when sightings of her ghost caught the regional media’s interest.
But if not looking for Megan’s ghost, then what had he been doing here all those months?
CHAPTER FOUR
THIS WAS DEFINITELY not the way Finn had hoped to meet Casey Crenshaw. As he packed, he frowned to himself. There was some obvious confusion, but he decided to let it go for now. Later, he would clear up the misunderstanding.
“Can you at least put that gun away? You’re really making me nervous.”
She seemed to consider it before
