by Terry Spear
They’d probably never had this much excitement in the small town of Yuma.
She ran the last few yards, figuring she was on everyone’s radar anyway now, and yanked open the car door. One of the men was on his phone, watching her, frowning, and then he and the other men ran toward her, the one still talking on the phone, telling on her, she was certain.
She jumped into the hatchback’s driver’s seat, started the engine, and began backing out of the parking space, wedged in by cars on either side of her, and one in front. If the men managed to get behind her before she could get away, she was dead in the water.
They looked like they were in the Olympics, attempting to win the gold as they bolted for her. But she managed to get out of the parking space and drove forward, squealing the tires as she saw Chase running out of the clinic, no shirt, no shoes, just a pair of jeans that he was desperately zipping up. She felt really bad about this. She might have run with the wrong crowd when she was growing up, but despite that, she’d never done anything wrong in her life. No traffic tickets. No grand auto theft. Nothing.
But her life was on the line.
She wheeled onto the main road. It was two-lane, three traffic lights, and appeared to be a very small town as she headed for the first red light. She saw a sign for Lake Buchanan at the next street to the right, and that had to mean the wilderness was in that direction, though she was certain that the town was so small that she’d soon be out of the developed area no matter which direction she drove.
She turned right and heard a police car’s siren blaring. Her heart began beating triple time. She glanced up at the rearview mirror and saw the car, its lights flashing, turning onto the same road that she was on and speeding up to catch her. Her heart began skipping beats. She wasn’t an Indy 500 race car driver, though she loved watching thrillers and car chases. But stunt drivers knew what they were doing when the scenes were filmed. She’d likely get herself killed, or ruin Chase’s car. Or both.
As much as she craved reaching the wilderness in the car, she couldn’t do it. She pulled down another street into a residential area and roared up into a three-sided carport connected to a one-story brick home. Fumbling with Chase’s parka in the confines behind the steering wheel, she stripped off his coat and the hospital gown. She tucked the keys inside the console, and was about to open the car door when the police car, no sirens running now and silent like a cougar, pulled up behind her, ready to ambush her.
The sheriff? His dark brown hair was short and he had pretty blue eyes that were narrowed at her as he jumped out of his car and rushed the driver’s door, rifle in hand.
Naked, she tried to get across the console to reach the other door before he could grab her. If she could open the door in time, she’d shift, jump out of the car, and run.
“Don’t… make… me… do it,” he said, gruff, commanding, threatening—obey, or else—and she realized he planned to shoot her!
And if he caught her? He’d handcuff her to the clinic bed this time for sure. Or… lock her up in a big cat cage.
She didn’t want to be shot. She didn’t want to be drugged. But she had to risk making her next move.
She yanked open the door, shifted, and jumped out of the car. The sheriff was still on the other side of Chase’s vehicle. The carport hemmed her in when she’d thought it was damned clever of her to hide the car there. But he had to have seen her drive up into it.
As soon as she raced for the open end, the sheriff bolted around the car and aimed his rifle at her. He was quick. But not quick enough.
She’d judged the distance, his swift pace, where his footfalls had landed, and she knew she could have escaped, only to have him shoot her in the hip.
So she did the only thing she could do. She readied herself for action, crouched, and pounced.
If she hadn’t been so focused on taking the sheriff down and avoiding getting shot, she would have laughed, in a cougar way, at the shocked look on his face. Well, shocked and a glint of awareness that this would not end well for him.
Using all her weight, she slammed her paws against his chest. His shot went wild, echoing off the houses. He fell and landed flat on his back, cursing. She ran, not waiting to see if he was all right, fearing he would reload his rifle and take another shot. Maybe with live rounds the next time.
She had to get off the street as she was certain the word would get out that the sheriff needed backup and men would be all over the place in short order, hunting her.
She headed for a fence and leapt over it, intending to cross the backyard and bound over another fence. But what she saw made her hesitate for a second. A big male German shepherd growled and barked at her, all four feet racing along the ground so that he could reach her. A dog was no match for her claws and teeth, but she didn’t want to hurt anyone’s pet. And she could leap great distances, so she tore off ahead of the dog and jumped over the fence into another yard just before the dog slammed his body against the wooden slats, shaking the whole fence. Thank God he didn’t knock the fence down.
He was making such a ruckus, his barking would alert everyone looking for her just where she’d gone. Not that the shifters couldn’t track her by scent anyway.
Thankfully, this yard was unoccupied and she scrambled over the wooden fence into a front yard. Her heart raced as the blood rushed in her ears, and she feared she wasn’t going to make it.
She didn’t hear the sheriff’s car’s sirens and that worried her. Was he all right? Or had she injured him like she had hurt Chase?
Now she could be charged with assaulting a deputy and a sheriff.
She had no choice but to run along the front yards of the homes here in this residential area—much quicker to reach her destination, the forest off in the distance. Two miles, maybe. The places began to spread out a bit, larger yards, bigger homes, more treed.
She would make it, if reinforcements didn’t come in time. She could run there and lose them in the forest. She would have it made.
Until a man ran out of a house with a rifle in hand. An SUV wheeled onto the road she was running next to and headed straight for her. Two vehicles raced along the street behind her.
Change of plans. She did the only thing she could do, ran for another backyard and leapt over the fence. But that wasn’t the direction she wanted to head in!
At least the men chasing her would have to regroup.
They had to know she was trying to reach the forest. Which meant she needed to change tactics.
Chapter 5
“What do you mean you lost her?” Chase said into his cell phone, not believing this, as he drove one of the nurse’s cars to where Dan was waiting.
“Dottie has called everyone on the alert roster who can track down the she-cat. Everyone who is free is searching for her.”
“The woman was last spotted at your location?”
“Haverton’s backyard.”
“Why aren’t you there?” Chase was getting a bad feeling about this.
“Let’s just say she is one hell of an ambush predator.”
Instantly getting the picture and his head aching in sympathy, Chase frowned a little. “Are you okay?”
“I think I feel like you did. I’m getting a ride over to the clinic in a minute. Your vehicle’s here, keys in the console, parka on the seat. Got to say she sure is hot to look at. But dangerous. You can go to Haverton’s and pick up her trail there. The other guys have lost her.”
“Hell.” Chase had hoped they were still chasing her down.
“Watch your back. And front. At least she left your car in one piece.”
“Thanks, I’ve got you in sight now.” Chase studied Dan as he held his head between his hands, elbows resting on his knees as he sat on the driveway. He didn’t look good, most likely had a mother of a headache like Chase had. Nausea, the whole works. He thought for sure Dan would have already nailed her and been bringing her in. He never expected she’d best him, too.
Another man arrived in a t
ruck. “I’ve got the sheriff. I’ll get him to the clinic,” he said as Chase hurried out of the borrowed car.
Chase took hold of Dan’s arms and eased him up. “Are you seeing double?”
“Hell yeah. I could have sworn there were two of her when she ran off.”
Chase patted his back. “You get better. I’ll keep you posted.” He handed the keys to the borrowed car to Dan. “Give these keys to Elsie when she checks you into the clinic. I’ll take my own car.”
“Take my rifle. Catch her before she hurts someone else or someone kills her.”
“Will do.” At least Chase sure the hell hoped he could. He knew she was plum scared, and he wanted to give her a chance to tell them what was going on, before it was too late.
He parked at Haverton’s place, leaving the rifle behind. He hoped he could reason with her. No matter what, he wouldn’t shoot her again. Part of him was ready to let her go. To just let her fend for herself—but only because he worried that she truly had done something wrong, and he didn’t want to be the one to have to bring her to justice. Part of him wanted to take care of her and protect her from whatever she was so scared of.
He opened the gate to the fenced-in yard and took a deep breath. He followed her scent all the way across it. She’d run to the back fence, but she hadn’t climbed over it. She’d raced across the yard at an angle and straight to… the house. Hell, she was in Haverton’s house. Or had been.
One of the windows was open. He ran to the window and listened. He couldn’t hear anyone moving about in the house. He’d been so hopeful she was still here.
He climbed inside the bedroom. Hal Haverton didn’t have a wife, so if the she-cat had grabbed some clothes, they would be men’s clothes. Packing boxes were stacked everywhere. Which reminded Chase he was supposed to be helping Hal move in a couple of weeks to his new ranch. He guessed that was out while he tried to get one wild she-cat under control.
Chase detected her scent in the underwear drawer and the closet.
Then he heard something in the kitchen. His heart pounding pell mell, he couldn’t believe she could still be here. Raiding the refrigerator! And he was damn glad.
He raced down the hall and heard the fridge door shut with a thunk. He reached the kitchen just as the startled dark-haired beauty nearly dropped the glass of milk in her hand.
He saw it coming before she even tossed the glass at him. His instinct would have been to try to grab it, but he couldn’t lose her, and he dove for her instead.
His body hit the glass of milk first, the beverage splashing against his shirt as he took her down, and hoped the hell he didn’t knock her out.
She fell with an oof and then tried a maneuver to unsettle him, shoving her feet against the floor, bucking, which damn near did throw him off, but he pressed hard against her body, grabbing her wrists, anchoring them above her head.
“Hold… still,” he said, irked to the max. “I don’t know what kind of trouble you’re in, miss, but we’ll work it out. As long as you’re not wanted for murder…” He saw the subtle change in her wild-eyed look to one of concern, and he feared the worse.
One of their kind couldn’t go to prison. She had to have a death sentence on her head if she was wanted for murder.
“I… didn’t… kill… anyone,” she gritted out, her expression furious. “And I haven’t done anything wrong. Get off me!”
“You’re kidding, right? You’ve injured a sheriff, broken in and entered a house, stole a car—mine—stole Hal Haverton’s clothes, broken a glass, and littered.”
Her grim mouth turned up just a hair at the mention of littering, and damn if he didn’t want to kiss her. When she was total trouble. And his prisoner at the moment.
“You’re right,” she said softly.
“That you’ve killed someone?” he asked, coming to his senses.
“No,” she growled, her golden eyes narrowed in irritation. “That I’ve… I’ve done all those other things. But you can’t hold me.”
He raised a brow. Like hell he couldn’t. “If you don’t recall me telling you so, I am a deputy sheriff of Yuma Town. And even if I wasn’t, I would be perfectly within my rights making a citizen’s arrest.”
“I don’t mean that,” she said, sounding exasperated. “You can’t incarcerate me. Not when I’m a shifter.”
He smiled then. “Sorry, lady. Around here, being that it’s a shifter-run town, we have accommodations for our kind, no questions asked.”
She was still breathing hard, maybe some of it to do with his body pressing against hers, but he couldn’t chance letting her go.
She licked her dry lips and if that wasn’t a total turn on. “I take it that having some of your homemade Irish stew is out now,” she said.
He smiled a little. “Maybe I can bring you a bowl to the jailhouse.” Hating to do it, wanting to know the truth of what was going on with her, he took hold of her wrists with one hand and reached for his pocket and a pair of handcuffs with his other.
Her eyes widened a bit and she again attempted to unseat him. That had him flipping her over onto her stomach and yanking her one arm behind her back, forcing her to quit fighting him.
“Ow,” she said, and he heard the pain in her voice.
He was fairly certain she was being honest with him, but he wasn’t giving her a chance to best him again. He cuffed one wrist and then the other.
“You’re safer with us, no matter what you’ve done. Just let me know what your name is and what we’re up against.” He turned her over so she could talk. She was wearing Hal’s gray sweats that swallowed her up, no shoes on her feet. The floor was covered in glass and milk and both of them had the shimmer of glass and wet spots on their clothes.
“Come on,” he said, carefully lifting her off the floor so she wouldn’t have to walk through the glass. If she wasn’t such a handful, he’d clean up the mess, but his priority had to be keeping an eye on her. He carried her into the living room and set her down on the sofa. “Stay.”
She scowled at him, then turned away as he pulled out his phone. She was observing the layout of the place, trying to figure out just what she could do to get away, he would guess. But she wasn’t going anywhere. Not when she was handcuffed and in his custody.
“Dan, are you okay?”
“Hell… yeah. Doc’s got me in a bed, damn it. I’m on pain meds. What’s the news?”
Chase smiled at the woman. “I’ve got our woman. I’m at Haverton’s place. She’s made a bit of a mess of his kitchen, but she’s fine. Handcuffed on his couch. Not cooperating.”
“Resisting arrest?”
“Hell, yeah, resisting arrest.”
She jerked her attention to him and scowled.
He smiled. “But she’s calm now. I’ll bring her into town in a few.”
“Whatever you do, don’t lose her.”
“Gotcha there. See you in a little while.” Chase ended the call, then eyed the woman. “Okay, what’s your name and what’s your story?”
“Ann Osborn is my name.”
“Try again.”
Her frown couldn’t have grown any deeper, he didn’t think.
He called another number. “Hey, Dottie, if Dan didn’t give you word in case he’s too out of it, I’ve got the woman and you can call off the search.”
“Will do. I’ve heard she’s a real wild cat.”
“She is definitely that. Call Hal Haverton and let him know I’m in his house with the woman, that she made a mess in the kitchen, and we’ll be out of here in a bit, but I just wanted to forewarn him.”
“All right. I’ll get right on it.”
“Thanks. Out here.” He sat on the chair perpendicular to the couch and leaned forward. “So if you’re not wanted for murder, then what? A psycho stalker is after you? You’ve committed some other crime worthy of risking your life over? Stolen millions of dollars from a Mob boss? What?”
“I’m totally innocent of committing any crimes.”
He raised his brows.
“Before you shot me,” she said, scowling at him. “I could have been just on a run through the mountains on a whim. You had no right to shoot me.”
“You wouldn’t have run away if you hadn’t been feeling guilty about something.”
“You didn’t know I was a shifter and you shot me!”
“Okay, I did. But I told you who I was after that and that Dan, the sheriff, was joining us. You ran again, only you conked out from the drug, and we were able to take you in hand or you would have been gone for good. So why did you run from the clinic? You weren’t afraid I was going to press charges. I offered to feed you some of my stew. I apologized for shooting you.” He reached out and patted her knee. “Tell me. We’ll work through this.”
“You can’t,” she said. “None of you can. Believe me when I say this. The best thing you can do is let me go. Just drop me off in the wilderness, and I’ll go far away from your town and out of your territory, so you never have to deal with me again.”
He straightened in his chair. “You can’t live out there on your own as a cougar. It wouldn’t be safe. Hunting season begins in less than two weeks from now. If you leave our territory, you’re liable to run into a wolf pack or two, hunters, bear.” He considered how thin she looked. “You don’t appear to be finding enough food to maintain your weight. Stay with us. With me. My offer still stands. I have cabins up near Lake Buchanan. You can have one of them free of charge. I’ll pick up some groceries for you. You can put some meat on your bones, talk with us, get your bearing, and then we’ll see where you want to go from there.”
“All right. I’ll go with you. Just take off the handcuffs and I’ll behave.”
He smiled. He didn’t trust her one little bit. “Or, I can dump you in a jail cell and let the sheriff talk to you when he’s no longer seeing double of you.”
She closed her eyes, and then opened them. “I had hoped he hadn’t been injured like you. But he was getting ready to shoot me. The natural instinct for us is for self-preservation.”
“Right. Your choice. My place or jail?”
