by Desiree Holt
Matt held up a hand. “I understand. Go ahead, get going. See you Saturday night. About seven o’clock.”
Jinx was making notes for the staff meeting she planned to have in the morning when Lew yelled at her from the bullpen.
“Hey, Jinx. Come hear what’s on the scanner. Hurry.”
The newspaper kept a police scanner on the wide counter mostly because her father liked to know what was going on in the county.
“You never know when a hot story will show,” he’d always said with a grin.
Jinx thought it was just because he liked having one, like a toy. She couldn’t imagine what would have Lew so hot and bothered. Her heel snagged on something on the floor and she caught the edge of a desk to keep from falling.
“You shouldn’t run around here in those high heels,” Lew admonished. “You might break your neck.”
Shit, him too? “My shoes are fine,” she snapped. “What’s up?”
“Listen.”
She heard Neil Guthrie’s voice speaking to dispatch. “Yeah, Cheryl. That’s right. A dead body. On State Road 45 about four miles west of town.”
“Are you serious?”
Even with the distortion from the scanner, Jinx could hear the surprise in Cheryl’s voice.
“As a heart attack. And it’s totally naked.”
“I’ll get the sheriff out there right away.”
Holy crap. A murder here in laidback Rowan County? She thought she’d left all that behind in New York, but it seemed crime happened anywhere. Jinx looked at her watch. If she hustled she could get the bare bones of a story and at least one photo to go with it for Friday’s edition.
“Beep Andy in the print shop,” she hollered to Sheila. “Tell him I’ll be making a change to the front page.”
She ran for her office to get her keys, trying at the same time to catch the rest of the transmission. Heading toward the back door to the parking lot she hollered to Lew, “Grab a camera and come on. We need to get there before they move the body.”
Lew grabbed what he needed and followed her, jumping into her car as she cranked the ignition.
“Holy shit!” He clutched his camera as Jinx made a sharp turn onto the street. “I don’t know if we’ve ever had a dead body here.”
“I’m sure you have at some time or other.” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “After all, everyone dies sooner or later.”
“I meant in a ditch. And naked. Like this. Oh, wait.” He smacked his forehead. “Can we show a naked body in the paper?”
“Let’s get there and see what’s going on before we decide what we can and can’t print.”
But she could feel a tiny thrill race through her just the same. Her first day as publisher and she had a story more likely to be found in the city. It beat the story on the new cooking school and the latest meeting of the zoning commission by a hot mile.
She didn’t have to look hard to find the crime scene. The circus might have been easier to overlook. Cars and trucks were lined up on the shoulder on both sides of the road, the gawkers crowding as close to the action as they could get. Some people were sitting on open tailgates with coolers and sandwiches, watching the show unfold. It reminded her of the time Hank Genessee’s big field of coastal hay caught fire and half the county showed up and made a tailgate party out of it. Then again, up until today nothing very exciting had happened in Rowan County, population twenty-five thousand, so anything exciting brought out the lookie loos.
The new sheriff’s SUV as well as two deputy cars were parked at angles, blocking one lane. Neil Guthrie and another deputy were doing their best to direct traffic around the mess and desperately trying to move along the people who wanted to stop and stare.
Orange cones marked off the area where the body had been found and yellow crime-scene tape was strung as a barricade. The body itself was barely visible, mostly concealed by the people surrounding it. She recognized Ric Nevada crouched down with what she assumed to be his crime-scene kit open next to him. On the other side of him, she spotted Don Obregon, a doctor who doubled as the head of the family clinic that served the county and the medical examiner if and when they needed one.
But it was the man standing behind Ric who caught her attention. She guessed his height at six feet. His broad shoulders strained at the seams of the sport jacket he wore with an open-collared shirt and jeans that clung to long legs that ended in western boots. She’d heard the new sheriff didn’t like wearing the tan uniform that came with the office.
“Informed the commissioner that people should respect the law no matter what he wore,” her father had told her.
Jinx guessed he was right. His presence fairly shimmered with a quiet air of obvious authority and control.
Just as she reached the scene, he turned in her direction and a shock sizzled through her as if electrodes had been attached to her skin. Everything in her body tightened and throbbed and unwanted heat warmed her skin. Instantly, her nipples hardened and her thong became soaked, her body responding to the sight of him with an unexpectedly visceral reaction.
Holy shit!
After the disaster with Max she had so sworn off men, especially hot ones like this one. So why didn’t her body get the message?
His gaze connected with hers and heat flared in his eyes for a quick second. Apparently the same electricity had zapped him too. Then the professional mask was back in place. He placed his hands on his hips, which brushed back the lapels of the jacket just enough for her to catch a glimpse of the gun he wore in a shoulder holster.
“Sorry.” His voice was deep and slightly raspy. “This is a restricted area. My deputies should have stopped you from coming so close.”
She swallowed, hard, and hoped her reaction to him didn’t show.
“Your deputies know who I am.” She held out her hand. “Jinx Malone. I’m the publisher of The Hill Country Herald. I believe you met my father when you first arrived in town.”
“Sheriff Dillon Cross.” He shook hands briefly. “Yes, I did. I thought he ran the paper.”
“Only until this morning.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s right. I think he mentioned he was thinking of retiring.”
“Well, that’s what he did. Gave me the keys and took off with my mother in their camper for parts unknown.”
“Just like that?” The sheriff frowned. “It’s really none of my business, but shouldn’t you know something about running a paper before taking it over?”
What a smartass.
“I know a lot about it,” she snapped. “I grew up with that newspaper and I’ve spent ten years in New York learning even more. I assure you, the Herald is in good hands. And you’re right, it isn’t any of your business. As long as I get the facts right you have nothing to complain about.”
Holy cow, Jinx! Back off a little. Why are you letting this guy push your buttons?
Maybe because I had instant lust the minute I saw him? I can’t afford that. Not now. Not again. Not ever.
“Glad to hear it.” She watched his eyes as he took note of the way she was crowding the tape roping off the area. “I’m sure in New York you also learned you can’t go tramping around crime scenes.”
Jinx pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It wouldn’t do any good to get this man angry at her right off the bat. The publisher of the newspaper was supposed to cultivate goodwill with the locals, not tromp all over it. She’d have to get back to the less-than-frantic ambience of the area all over again.
“You’re right. And I’m not—what did you call it?—tramping around your crime scene.” She tried on a smile. “Just trying to get the facts to report them to my readers. I, um, had them hold the paper so I could get this on the front page of this week’s edition.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I don’t much care for reporters.”
She wanted to smack him. “Well, we should get along just fine since I don’t much care for cops.”
“Fine.” He ground out the
word between clenched teeth.
“Fine.” She could be as abrupt as he was. “I’m so glad we understand each other.”
For a long moment he said nothing, just studied her as if she were an alien who had suddenly appeared from outer space. Then he glanced at the three-ring circus taking place along the roadside with the same frown of annoyance.
“Don’t people have anything else to do around here?”
She took in the scene again and couldn’t hold back the laugh. “They’re just curious. You’ll have to get used to it if you plan on staying around. This is the biggest thing to happen around here in the last century.”
“They can be all the curious they want,” he told her, “as long as they don’t get in my way and mess things up.”
She tilted her head, giving him a quizzical look. “Is that meant for me too? I assure you, I know enough to stay out of the way.” She lifted her iPad. “I’ll get the background details down. Then, when you get a second, I’d just like enough from you to put a story together. Oh, and my photographer wants to snap a couple of shots.”
Dillon Cross glanced at the scene behind him again. “You don’t think the good folks in Rowan County might be a little shocked to see a naked corpse on the front page of the paper?” His voice had a definite edge to it.
Her eyes widened. “So he really is naked?”
He nodded. “Not a stitch on him.”
“Do you know who he is? Has anyone identified him?”
“No and no. There was some damage to his hands too.”
“No kidding. In what way?”
“I’m not prepared to discuss any details yet. The crime scene is still fresh.”
“But—”
He blew out a breath. “Listen, Miss Malone—”
“Jinx,” she interrupted. “Call me Jinx.”
He nodded. “And you can call me Sheriff.” He was poker-faced and Jinx saw no humor in those dark coffee-colored eyes.
“All right, Sheriff. Speak your piece.”
And do it quick so I can get away with my dignity intact.
“I’m not trying to be a hard case here,” he told her, “but take a look.” He waved his hand at the activity behind him. “I need to keep the area as contained as possible, but you can see what’s happening. This is a crime scene, not a social gathering.”
Jinx bit down on her tongue to keep the nasty comebacks in check. She was used to the confrontational situation with cops in New York, where they seemed to regard the media as the enemy. Not to mention the holdover resentment from the past century against female crime reporters. Disliking law enforcement had become second nature to her. She’d had to toughen up to get stories and interviews. But this wasn’t New York, and she didn’t want to create antagonism her first day as publisher.
She took a deep breath, let it out slowly and pasted a smile on her face.
“Okay, Lew and I will get out of your way if you’ll give him a chance to get his shots before you take the body away. And then you take a few minutes to give me the bare-bones outline. I’m holding the print run so I can get this story in.”
He nodded. Once. “Fair enough. As long as I have the space to do my job. But I’m warning you, the scene is far from a pleasant one.”
“I’ve seen gruesome before,” she told him. “More than you can imagine. And whatever goes on, we won’t chew you up like the big-city papers do, Sheriff. It doesn’t hurt to have us on your side. Especially when election time rolls around.”
“Duly noted.”
She backed up, suddenly needing to put space between the two of them. What was up with her hormones today, anyway? Not even Max had aroused her just by his presence the way Sheriff Dillon Cross did. When she found herself mentally undressing him, she knew she had to move away from him. Maintaining professional composure was a must, especially in a first impression. Lusting after the sheriff was hardly in the reporter’s and publisher’s handbook.
As she turned to go back to her car, her heel caught in a crack in the pavement and she fell forward. Dillon Cross steadied her with a warm hand on her elbow.
“Wearing those heels around here might not be such a good idea,” he told her. “You could fall and hurt yourself. I’d think you’d have at least one pair of boots in your closet.”
“Crap.” His touch carried heat with it that burrowed its way beneath her skin and she yanked her arm away. “Does everyone have an opinion about my footwear?” She’d had it in her head to present herself very professionally her first day on the job. She’d just forgotten that professional meant different things in New York and Rowan County. Everyone was right. She’d break her damn fool neck if she didn’t get rid of the stilts. She just didn’t want Dillon Cross pointing it out to her.
He took a step back, palms out. “Sorry. Just trying to give some helpful advice.”
“I think I’ve had about all of that I can take for today.” Then she forced a smile. “But thanks anyway.”
He studied her for a long moment, his eyes slowly taking in her body from head to toe. Her pulse throbbed in inconvenient places and there went that intense flash of heat surging through her again.
Bad, bad, bad. Get your mind off men. Remember Max. Remember your promise to yourself.
“Wait at your car for me like you suggested. I can give you ten minutes when we’re finished here.” He waved at the mob scene again. “In the meantime, if any of these people are your friends, maybe you can convince them to go home and stay out of my crime scene.”
She swallowed the sarcasm that bubbled up. Lord, this guy pushed her buttons. “I would, Sheriff, but this is your crime scene, not a social gathering.”
Jinx turned away from him, careful not to trip in her heels again, as he mumbled something under his breath. She glanced over her shoulder.
“Did you say something?” She put on her sweetest voice.
“I said thanks for all your help.”
“Same to you.” She marched back to her car, satisfied that she got in the last word. This time.
Lew was still at the car, waiting for instructions from her.
“He’s still watching you.” He inclined his head in the direction of the scene. “The sheriff, I mean.”
Jinx yanked open the car door and sat down, half-angry, half-aroused.
“Let him watch, as long as I get my interview.”
And that’s all she wanted from him. Dillon Cross was the epitome of the alpha male, a species she’d sworn to stay away from. She supposed she should be grateful that her emotions and sensual awareness were still active after the battering her ego had taken from Max’s actions. Except she had absolutely no plan to act on any of it. She’d had enough of sexy alpha males. Maybe there was an instant cure she could take before he finished and came over to talk to her.
Dillon watched Jinx Malone trip back to her car on those ridiculous heels. Just what he needed. Another fucking reporter in his life. Why did he think things would be different out here in cow country? Because he was stupid and wanted out of San Antonio so badly he didn’t stop to think. And what was with her, anyway? Did the woman still think she was back in New York? She’d grown up around here, for God’s sake. Where was her common sense?
Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t her common sense that was at the forefront of his mind. Or the naked body behind him either. Unfortunately. No, it was that trim figure in the cotton skirt and blouse, with a hip sway that made his cock try to fight its way out of his fly. Lustrous auburn hair bounced at her shoulders as she moved, hair that was a great complement to the sea-green eyes she’d stared at him with. Eyes that alternately spit irritation and heat. The irritation he could handle. The heat was definitely a problem.
He wanted to bite or kick something. His reaction to her was so instantaneous it almost knocked him on his ass. The heaviness of a sudden erection pushed against his fly.
Great. Just great.
It would be goddamn embarrassing for him at his first major crime scene here if
people spotted his inconvenient hard-on.
He tried to tell himself the whole instant-attraction thing was just an accident of human chemistry, but the heat and desire pooling in his groin told a different story. He’d just been without for too long. His choice, but it didn’t help the situation.
Haven’t you learned anything?
He reminded himself women like Jinx Malone were poison. Been there, done that, had the scars and taken the cure. He hoped. But watching the sway of her shapely ass as she walked away from him on those ridiculous high heels he felt lust boiling through him. He needed to stick to his vow of nothing but one-night stands, with women who understood the rules from the beginning. And a one-night stand with the publisher of the county newspaper sure wouldn’t be a career builder. Even in peaceful Rowan County his job could get dicey. Witness today’s dead body. It would help to have the press—such as it was—on his side.
He didn’t think he could go through the emotional turmoil again of getting attached to a woman only to find out why she really had attached herself to him. Or that she chose to inform him about it in a way that made him draw back into himself. Besides, he was still defining a place for himself in Rowan County and this new job. Getting involved with the wrong woman could really screw things up.
But Jesus. Apparently his hormones weren’t paying any attention. Her body practically had fuck me written all over it, from the nicely rounded breasts to the curve of hip and ass. He wanted to grab her and kiss that sassy mouth until she was senseless and melted into him. Except he didn’t think Jinx Malone would ever be senseless or ever melt into anyone.
“Hey, Sheriff?”
Ric Nevada’s voice broke into his mental wanderings.
“Yeah, Ric?” He walked back to where the naked body lay.
“We’re ready for Don to transport the body for autopsy. I’ll hang out for a bit after that and make sure I didn’t miss anything.”
“Good enough. I’ll tell Neil and Greg to get these lookie loos moving on their way out of here. I’ll be in the office when you get back.”
Then, with emotions that were definitely mixed, he walked across the road to Jinx Malone’s car to give her the promised interview. He just hoped his cock would get the message his brain was sending it.
