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Mother May I: Yellowstone Investigations, #1
Mother May I: Yellowstone Investigations, #1
Mother May I: Yellowstone Investigations, #1
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Mother May I: Yellowstone Investigations, #1

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This stand-alone romantic suspense is over 79,000 words long. If you enjoy it, you can continue the five-part series. This is the first book of the series.

 

In the wilds of Yellowstone National Park, rugged men risk everything to do the right thing, even when the people who hire them aren't always exactly what they seem…

 

Dallas: The spring thaw often brings out those looking for something that might have been lost during the winter. I'm not worried. My dogs can find anything I ask them to. Then Mary shows up with a twenty-year-old diary and a story about her missing mother, and I realize I might be about to bite off more than I can chew.

 

Mary: I know my mother didn't just up and leave twenty years ago. Proving it is another thing. But the closer Dallas and I get to unraveling a mystery twenty years in the making, the more someone doesn't want us to find out what really happened to my poor, dearly departed mother.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMay 15, 2018
ISBN9798224685882
Mother May I: Yellowstone Investigations, #1
Author

Clara Kendrick

Discover the captivating world of Clara Kendrick's romantic suspense. With her masterful storytelling and skillful blend of intrigue, romance, and passion, Kendrick draws readers in and keeps them hooked until the very end. Get ready to be swept away by her thrilling and steamy tales of love and suspense. Signup and follow at: Books2read.com/ClaraKendrick Facebook.com/AuthorClaraKendrick

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    Book preview

    Mother May I - Clara Kendrick

    Chapter One

    ––––––––

    Dallas!

    Dallas Masterson jumped so hard that his boots fell right off his desktop. The movement sent him flying forward with such force that he nearly flew out of his leather chair. His cowboy hat toppled right off his head and hit the floor. Blinking away the sleep from his eyes, Dallas managed to focus on the very angry face of Holly Jackson.

    "Dallas Masterson, what in the hell do you think you’re doing?" Holly was the secretary at the Yellowstone Investigations office and had been since the small firm had opened its doors nearly five years before.

    Dallas yawned, stretched, and glanced over at the clock before reaching down to scratch his belly. He was freaking tired, so he was taking a nap. That was what he was doing. He tried to focus on Holly. The redhead was usually pretty good-natured—for a redhead. At the moment she resembled a fire-breathing dragon with her green eyes flashing fire and her hands propped angrily on her full hips.

    I’m sorry, Holly. Dallas tried to keep his tone nice and cooperative. There was no need to give Holly a reason to castrate him like a spring calf. Did you need help with something?

    "I need help with your dogs!" Holly said through gritted teeth.

    My dogs.

    She turned in the doorway of his office and stabbed her finger toward the front of the building. The little log and stone structure had once been a house here in Wildcat, Montana. When Callum Mackenzie had set up the Yellowstone Investigations office, he had gutted the place and created a set of tiny offices and a nice front reception room where Holly had her desk and separate workspace.

    Holly’s green eyes narrowed to slits. Let’s just say that your decomposition-sniffing dogs have found something very decomposed.

    Is that right? Dallas still didn’t quite understand what the problem was. What did they find?

    Deer? I don’t know! How am I supposed to know? Holly’s voice was rising in pitch until she sounded almost frantic. "But it’s in my office!"

    Dallas shot to his feet. What in the hell was she talking about? The dogs are right... His voice trailed off as he realized that his Anatolian shepherd and his Great Pyrenees were both missing from their bed in the corner of his office. Dammit.

    Yes. Holly stomped out of his office. That’s pretty much what I said when I saw the mess!

    Dallas groaned. He could only imagine what those damn dogs had gotten into now. Their noses were absolutely incredible. In fact, Harry and Sally were easily the best cadaver dogs that Dallas had ever trained. Unfortunately, they used their noses for just as much evil as they did good.

    The smell became almost unbearable as soon as he exited his office. In fact, Dallas wasn’t really certain how the stench of whatever the dogs had found hadn’t woken him out of a sound sleep. Holly was pinching her nose closed and fumbling in her desk drawer for a lighter. She struggled to light the pine-scented candle sitting on the corner of her computer table.

    Sometimes I don’t know why I keep this job, Holly muttered to herself.

    Dallas shot her a dirty look but didn’t bother responding to that little comment. The easy answer was that jobs in Wildcat, Montana, weren’t exactly easy to come by, and Holly had landed a full-time, year-round gig that paid pretty decent money and wasn’t dependent upon the parks service down at Yellowstone National Park.

    Turning his attention to the pile of remains that were currently sitting in the middle of the reception area floor, Dallas glared at his dogs. They were both munching away on the mostly decomposed carcass of what appeared to be a deer. Not unusual in this region, but definitely not something you wanted inside your office.

    Harry! Dallas snapped at the Anatolian shepherd. What in the hell were you thinking?

    At this point Sally realized that she and her cohort had made a bad decision. She was busy inching away from the carcass in an effort to act as though she were nothing more than a spectator. The big white Pyrenees mix was one of the most intelligent dogs that Dallas had ever trained. She was easily one hundred and twenty pounds with thick white fur that was wavy on her back and fluffy on her legs. Her tail even had a tiny curlicue at the end, which she was currently wagging at Dallas in a futile effort to gain brownie points.

    No way, girl, Dallas growled. You guys have messed up this time.

    Harry seemed to realize his danger. He stopped munching on the leg bone hanging from his mouth and gazed up at Dallas as though he were also completely innocent.

    So you guys expect me to believe that this mess just appeared in the office? Dallas glared down at his dogs. You guys want to claim that Holly made the mess? Holly dragged this thing in here and then just let you guys chew away? I’m not buying it!

    The front door was open because of the midday summer heat sizzling outside. All the doors and windows were open in the office in an effort to air the place out. That was how the carcass had been brought inside to begin with. Now Dallas realized that there was someone standing in the open front doorway.

    Oh my!

    Dallas lifted his head and knew that he was going to be lucky if Holly didn’t decide to castrate him anyway. This was obviously a new customer and the poor woman had just stumbled into a seriously stinky office filled with bits and pieces of the deer carcass complete with the pelvic region, hind legs, and even the bristly tail and some additional dried-out flesh hanging off what remained of the spine. It actually looked like the remains of some hunter’s kill post field dressing or butchering.

    Holly was already going into action. She still had her hand up over her nose to cover the pungent sickly-sweet scent of death. "I am so sorry, Miss. This is not usually the way we greet our customers!"

    Oh, well that’s all right. The woman removed a handkerchief from her purse and placed it against her face. Are those the cadaver dogs?

    Holly’s wispy red brows shot straight up toward her hairline. "Uh. Yes. Yes, they are. Mr. Masterson here is the handler of these animals, which he is about to remove from the office."

    Actually, you’re the one I want to talk to. The woman nervously addressed Dallas as though she was expecting him to send her packing. I need your help.

    My help? He barely managed to stammer.

    Ugh. Could he possibly sound any stupider? It was like he was reading a script guaranteed to make anyone think that he was an idiot. And Dallas was killing it. He cleared his throat. Suddenly his jeans and white T-shirt seemed underdressed. He had dust and other stuff on his scuffed brown cowboy boots. He looked every inch the redneck cowboy that he had been raised to be. He could practically hear his mother’s voice in the back of his mind telling him that no woman would ever look twice at a man who picked up his jeans off the floor for a second or even third day of wear.

    Holly seemed to second Dallas’s disbelief. Oh, Dallas is just one of our many talented investigators, ma’am. If you can just step over here to my desk, we can chat a bit and find out how we can best assist you.

    No. I really need his help. The woman was wringing her hands. See, my mother is missing.

    I’m so sorry, Holly said immediately. She moved forward to take the young woman’s arm in an effort to steer her away from the deer carcass. Tell me what’s happened.

    The young woman pulled away from Holly. She turned back to Dallas and pleaded. "Can you please help me? They say your dogs can find anyone."

    His dogs. Dallas was starting to get a bad feeling about this. The woman appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties. Dallas wasn’t so good trying to tell that stuff on women who were so obviously not from the area. There was a certain weathered look that a body got when they were out in the brutal UV rays in and around Yellowstone or the Grand Tetons. This young lady didn’t look like that at all.

    In fact, Dallas could not help but notice that she was gorgeous. A pair of black leggings only emphasized the length of that muscular and very well shaped feature. A blue off the shoulder top gave a tantalizing glimpse of her strong shoulder and the bright pink strap of her camisole. The colors really set off her olive complexion. The girl didn’t look like she’d ever gotten a sun or windburn. Her sweet, heart-shaped face was troubled, and her blue eyes were enormous underneath her short mop of blonde curls. She looked like a model. So what was she doing in Wildcat, Montana?

    Dallas cleared his throat. Was it really that hard to be coherent? He was acting like a total moron. I’m sorry, ma’am. When did your mother go missing?

    She lifted a small, tattered pink and black book. He hadn’t noticed it until that moment, but it made his heart sink. It was obviously a diary of some kind. That was never good.

    This is my mother’s diary. Her last entry was on March 31, 1995. She was planning to meet someone here in Yellowstone for a girls only hiking and biking weekend. The young woman was now gnawing her lower lip. She never came home.

    Yeah. This wasn’t good. Dallas pursed his lips. He’d handled some cold cases. That wasn’t necessarily unusual in this area. Sometimes when hikers went missing in the fall they didn’t turn up until spring. But this wasn’t a few months.

    Ma’am, you’re talking twenty plus years, Dallas pointed out.

    Her expression told him in no uncertain terms that she was fully aware of how long it had been. Yes. Twenty years. That’s why I came here. You have cadaver dogs.

    About that time Harry and Sally stuck their heads back in through the front door. Both dogs had beat a hasty exit when the opportunity had approached. Now they apparently thought it was a good time to return for their second hand kill.

    The young woman brightened. She pointed to the carcass. If they can find that, they can find my mother!

    Holly was biting her lip. It was plain to see that the young woman wasn’t going anywhere soon. Ma’am, I’m sorry but what’s your name? Dallas figured that was as good a place to start as any.

    Mary Blythe. I’m from Kansas City. I drove in last night and rented a cabin in the park. I just found this diary yesterday morning in an old box full of my mother’s things. The woman pressed her hand to her chest as though she were a bit breathless from her rapid-fire speech. Sorry. I know I’m just belting this all out. You probably hear this kind of thing all the time.

    We see some cold cases, Holly said hesitantly. Then she plopped down into her desk chair. "I can’t say I’ve seen any come across this desk that are quite this cold."

    Ms. Blythe... Dallas began.

    She quickly corrected him. Just Mary please. I’m a teacher and I feel like one of those old crotchety types when people call me Ms. Blythe.

    All right. Mary. It felt strange to say her name like that. Or maybe strange wasn’t the word. It felt nice. Her name was nice. Mary. I want to be totally up front with you.

    Oh please don’t say no! Mary actually started moving toward him as though she were going to grab Dallas by the front of his T-shirt or something. Just don’t say no. Say maybe. Say you’ll look into it. Say you’ll try. My mother’s disappearance has gone unresolved for more than twenty years! She disappeared when I was ten years old. I don’t know what happened or how it happened or even why. My father keeps saying she ran off with someone else and that she didn’t love me enough to even tell me goodbye. Mary’s voice broke over those words. "I just want to know what happened. I need closure!"

    How many times had Dallas heard those words? People talked about closure like it was something they could buy on sale at the store. They didn’t realize the cost though. Or at least that had been his experience.

    Holly was giving Dallas the look. Of course by shooting him the look, Holly was reminding him that Callum Mackenzie was going to kill Dallas when or if he found out that Dallas had taken this case. It was a classic no-no for Yellowstone Investigations. They didn’t tie up cadaver dogs or any dogs on cold cases without clear boundaries. A cold case was a bit like a rabbit hole. You never knew how deep or how twisted it was going to get, and this one was probably going to wind up being crazier than most.

    Twenty plus years was a long time. There could be absolutely nothing left of Mary’s mother’s body. It could have been torn apart by animals and spread across the whole park. Or it could be lying underneath something or in some protected spot just as fresh as the day of the murder.

    Assuming it was murder.

    Holly seemed to have the same thought. Has anyone looked into your mother’s disappearance? You said it had gone unsolved or unresolved, but has anyone actually investigated it? Local police? State police? FBI?

    Mary made a wry face. That’s just it. Nobody considered her missing. They figured she had run away. That was what my father told them. Why look for a grown woman who ran away from her family and her responsibilities? No. They never looked for my mother. They just judged her and then forgot about her.

    Dallas thought of his own domineering mother. If anyone could understand mother issues it was him. This was different, but he could still understand the need to find that elusive sense of closure. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to feel a little less as though he were going to really come to regret what he was about to say.

    Please? Her voice was so full of desperation and pleading, he could not possibly have found the gumption to say no.

    All right. Dallas had a very strong suspicion that this was going to be a lot more involved that he was ready for. Why don’t you come back in an hour, and I’ll have a contract and some other details ready to go. Holly and I need some time to put together a plan for such an unusual case.

    Chapter Two

    Mary Blythe felt flushed. So far, the last twenty-four hours had been such a whirlwind of insanity that she could have simply chalked it up to that. She’d found the diary while going through a box of her mother’s things. It had been shocking, but it had also spurred her into the kind of furious fluttering action that often resulted in her feeling frazzled and out of balance. This wasn’t exactly unusual for her to experience. She’d just never had to account for someone like Dallas Masterson.

    Stepping out of the Yellowstone Investigations office, Mary finally felt as though she could draw a deep breath. The air was clean and despite the summer heat it was cool. She lightly took the three steps from the front porch to the dusty ground. The offices of Yellowstone Investigation had obviously once been a house. And from what she’d seen so far Wildcat, Montana, didn’t have a lot of those.

    She put her hands on her hips and stared out across the wild terrain. The scenery out here was incredibly beautiful. She had never seen anything like it. The sky was so blue. It wasn’t this blue back in Kansas City. In fact, on most days it was more of a pale grayish color. And the mountains! Every direction she turned provided the sort of vista you saw on a computer screensaver.

    I now understand the phrase purple mountain majesty.

    It was a whimsical and slightly desperate thought. Mary was starting to feel just like that. When she’d asked around the main Yellowstone visitor center, everyone had told her to find Dallas Masterson at Yellowstone Investigations. They were an independent firm. Dallas had dogs. Lots of dogs. Bloodhounds for searching out live quarry and cadaver dogs for finding the dead. Go find Dallas, they told her. And she had.

    Mary pressed her palms to her face. Turning, she spotted a huge kennel area to one side of the Yellowstone Investigations offices. She had noticed them when she drove in, but she’d been far too distracted to pay much attention. Now she found herself curious. How did a cowboy like Dallas keep his dogs?

    Glancing back at the office door, Mary listened to the low voices deep in conversation. The receptionist and Dallas were still having a very serious talk about the contract they were going to have her sign. Mary didn’t care. She’d sign an agreement for services. That was a no brainer. They needed parameters and expectations. She got that. She just hoped that the money wasn’t too extreme. Mary did have plenty of money. But most of it was tied up in trust funds and her father had always been very controlling when it came to that sort of thing. The last thing Mary needed was for her father to decide he needed to get involved with this search. Elias Blythe was in no hurry to find his wife.

    Mary minced her way around the side of the house. The grass was growing higher than her knees back here. It was like a wild prairie. The whole place looked as though the thought process behind their landscaping involved a purely natural approach.

    The dogs started barking as she got closer and closer to their kennel. And it was most definitely a kennel. Not that Mary had much experience with such things. She lived in downtown Kansas City and had ever since her father had moved from Colorado Springs after her mother’s disappearance. Mary loved dogs. She’d had a Labrador retriever as a child, but when her mother left there were no more pets in their family. Elias Blythe did not like animals. As a teenager Mary had taken riding lessons at a local barn, but that had been the only exposure to animals she’d had.

    The kennel was huge. There had to be at least ten runs all made out of huge slabs of chain link fencing and covered as though someone were afraid the dogs would climb out. Mary walked a little closer and realized that even though the hounds were barking, their tails were wagging furiously as though they were just waiting to make friends.

    Hi there, Mary crooned. Aren’t you pretty things?

    Their coats ranged from bright red to black and tan or deep russet. Their bodies were lanky and they looked as though there were tight muscles packed beneath all of that baggy skin. Their faces were so very saggy and adorable with their big jowls flopping and their silky ears hanging like ponytails on either side of their face. They were wiggling and dancing and acting as though they were just so very excited to see her.

    The resulting feeling of being welcomed was so foreign to Mary that she had to stop and think about it for a moment. She was a teacher. Her students were middle schoolers who were already so far into their rebellious stage that they hated pretty much anyone in an authority position. That wasn’t the rule, but it certainly fit most of the population of her classes.

    She lived alone in a tiny apartment behind her father’s large home. Elias had married again, and again, and again, and his wives were quickly approaching the point where they were the same age or younger than Mary and so vacuous and frivolous that they did not make good friends. In the case of her father’s current wife Mary couldn’t even have a conversation with the woman.

    Moving hesitantly closer to the door of the kennel on the very end of the row, Mary noticed that there was a cement walkway that went along the front, back, and sides, of the enclosure. On the far end there was a building that probably provided storage for food and other supplies. The dogs all seemed to have an inside portion to their runs and the outside part had a sunshade strapped down to the roof that allowed half sun and half shade against the intense UV rays that streamed out of the sky.

    You are just so adorable, Mary murmured as she knelt in front of the dog run. Look at you!

    She didn’t stick her fingers through the diamonds in the chain link because that seemed as though it would have been extremely foolish. But she did lightly brush her fingers over the noses that the two dogs were shoving at her through the fence. The black button noses were cold and damp. The dogs kept bouncing and dancing behind the gate as though they were begging her to open it.

    Ms.—I mean Mary?

    Mary spun around so quickly that she nearly fell over. Dallas Masterson stood about ten feet behind her with a slightly confused expression on his handsome face. Or rather his face wasn’t exactly handsome. That word didn’t come anywhere near being able to describe the rugged, good-looking man. This was a face that had seen sun and wind and probably more UV rays than were politically correct these days. He had a few days stubble along his jawline and his hair was longer than was fashionable. But the bleached blond hair spilling out from beneath his cowboy hat was artlessly tousled and looked so very touchable that she had to clench her hands into fists to keep her mind from spinning endless fantasies about this guy.

    He was built like a raw-boned, blue-collar, working type. Mary could not help but compare Dallas to the white-collar, slim-hipped, narrow-shouldered guys who populated her life in Kansas City. They could not even be bothered to open a door for a woman. A few times Mary had wondered if their skinny baby arms were actually too weak to perform such a mundane task. They didn’t do anything but run on the weekends when they weren’t busy kissing her father’s ass at his accounting firm.

    Dallas wasn’t like those men. He was all alpha male, big ropy muscles, thick veins standing out on his powerful forearms, and hands that were calloused and tanned. Her gaze lingered on those hands. What would it be like to have them cup her face? Would it feel good? Would it tickle? Would it tickle if she touched the stubble on his jaw?

    Mary?

    Oh! She felt her cheeks heat up as she realized that she had been standing there staring at him for more than just a few moments. I’m sorry. I was just looking at your dogs. They’re so cute. And they look as though they have wonderful personalities.

    He cocked his head at her. The battered cowboy hat shaded some of his expression from her view, but she could tell that he looked contemplative. Then he reached out and slipped the latch on the dog run. Do you like dogs?

    Very much. Marry felt her heart speed up as the two dogs bounded

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