by Linda Turner
“Who?”
“Nick Kincaid. The sheriff.”
Readily admitting she was guilty of stereotyping, Angel expected Nick Kincaid to be a laid-back, doughnut-eating small town peace officer who moved at a snail’s pace. He wasn’t. Less than thirty minutes after Joe called him, he pulled up in the drive in his black-and-white patrol car. If he spent his days eating sweets, you couldn’t tell it. Tall and lean, with an angular face that could have been carved from stone, he greeted Joe with a smile, but his brown eyes were sharp and perceptive. Shaking his hand as Joe made the introductions, Angel imagined he’d only have to give a suspect one hard flinty look to make him squirm.
All business, he said, “Joe said you were having problems with a stalker, Ms. Wiley. Why don’t you tell me about it?”
Taking a seat in Joe’s study, where the three of them had retired to discuss the problem out of earshot of Emma, she patiently went over the story again, leaving out nothing. “I don’t know if he’s left L.A. yet, if he even has the means to follow me here,” she concluded, “but I wouldn’t put anything past him. He scares me. If something happened to Emma…”
She couldn’t finish the thought, and unfortunately, just as she’d suspected, there was little Nick could do to reassure her. “I wish I could tell you that the jerk’s not going to get anywhere near you on my watch,” he said grimly. “Normally, I could. There’s usually not much going on here, and strangers have a tendency to stick out. But we’re flooded with outsiders right now. And I’m not just talking about the Hollywood crowd. Ever since the word got out that you and Garrett Elliot were here making a movie, people have been coming in by the truckload.”
He sounded more than a little disgusted, and Angel couldn’t say she blamed him. Just last week, Liberty Hill had been a nice quiet little town, but that had changed virtually overnight. Reporters were now camped out at the entrance to the ranch and souvenir hawkers were on every corner in town. Then there were the fans and groupies and autograph seekers who’d descended on the town out of nowhere to try to get a glimpse of some real live movie stars. The place was a zoo.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Nick hastily assured her. “I’m not complaining. I’m just trying to make you understand the magnitude of conducting an investigation under such conditions. Think about it. Since your stalker is from L.A., the only sure fact we have is that he isn’t one of the locals. With the town crawling with strangers, that leaves a hell of a lot of possible suspects. Anyone of them could be your stalker.”
Scowling, Joe swore. “Dammit, Nick, I called you out here to help her, not scare her to death!”
“And that’s what I’m doing,” he retorted. “This isn’t L.A., Joe. I don’t have the manpower to surround her and her daughter with bodyguards. I’ll do everything within my power to keep her safe, but I’m going to need her help.”
“Tell me what to do,” she told him. “The bastard who wants my daughter dead has made good on every promise he’s made me so far, and that scares me to death. He laughed when I had the security system beefed up in my house and promised me he could get past it. A week later, he sent me a pair of my own underwear in the mail.”
Just the thought of it still sickened her. “He’s not going to hurt Emma,” she said fiercely. “I could send her back to L.A., or to New York, but he would find her. And just the thought of sending her away makes me cringe. No one will protect her like I will. So tell me what to do—I’ll do it.”
“Keep your eyes open for suspicious characters,” Nick said flatly. “I know there are a lot of fruitloops in town right now, but this guy’s not going to be that obvious. He’ll try to blend in with the crowds, so watch the people around you. Whenever you’re out in public, stay close to someone you know and trust. Don’t go anywhere by yourself. And for God’s sake, don’t keep this a secret from your friends and co-workers. The more people who watch for this guy, the better chance we’ve got of catching him.”
It seemed like so little—keep your eyes open and don’t go anywhere alone. But short of locking her and Emma up in the jail, Angel knew there was little more the sheriff could do until the stalker made some kind of mistake that would hopefully lead to his arrest.
Rising to her feet, she held out her hand and gave him the smile that had men all over the world dreaming about her. “I appreciate your help. I may be overreacting—for all we know, he’s still in California—but I can’t take any chances with my daughter’s life.”
“Or your own,” he replied somberly. “Don’t forget that this guy’s main objective isn’t your daughter, but you. You’re the one he wants, so be careful. If anyone comes near you and makes you the least bit uncomfortable, don’t worry about looking foolish—scream your head off. And if you get any more gifts, I want to know about it.”
“You’ll be the first person I call,” she promised. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to call my producer about this and talk to Laura.”
She hurried out of the study, and without a word, Joe shut the door behind her. When he turned back to Nick, his face was set in grim lines. “Just how dangerous is this bastard?”
Not one to beat about the bush, Nick said, “I wish I could say the jerk’s all talk and gets off by just scaring her, but at this point, there’s no way to know for sure. He’s a sick puppy, and God knows what’s going on inside his head. It would be a mistake to underestimate him.”
Joe had no intention of doing any such thing. As far as he was concerned, he didn’t care if the guy was nothing but all talk, he’d threatened a woman and a little girl and that made him lower than dirt. If he tried to come near either one of them, he’d personally make him wish he’d never been born.
“I’ll notify Zeke and the ranch hands and let them know what’s going on so they can keep an eye open for anyone wandering around where they don’t belong.”
“Which, from what I’ve seen, is half the cast and crew of the movie,” Nick retorted. “You’ve got your work cut out for you.”
He wasn’t telling Joe anything he didn’t know. Every time he turned around on his own ranch, he was running into a stranger. Since they’d gotten past security at the front gate, he’d naturally assumed that they were with the studio and had a right to be there, but now he wasn’t so sure. The eastern boundary of the ranch was fronted for miles by a well-traveled country road. An electric fence marked the property line and should have been more than enough to discourage any trespassers, but Angel’s stalker wasn’t your average curiosity seeker. This was a man who’d disarmed her security system and broke into her house without anyone being the wiser. An electric fence would present no obstacle for him.
And that scared the hell out of Joe. Not because he was attracted to the lady, he told himself quickly. All right, so there was something about her that made her impossible to ignore, but he still would have worried about her if she’d been ninety-two and hadn’t had a tooth in her head. She and her daughter were guests in his home, dammit, and she had a right to feel safe there. Anyone who threatened them or even thought about hurting them was going to have to get past him first to do it.
Thanking Nick for his help, he walked outside with him and watched him drive away, then circled the house, his narrowed eyes scanning the surrounding countryside for any sign of an intruder. Only when he was sure nothing moved in any direction for as far as the eye could see did he go back inside.
Emma was in the middle of her lunch and chatting happily to her mother and Laura about the new baby horse when Joe stepped into the kitchen. The two women hovered close, like they expected her to disappear any second, and Joe couldn’t say he blamed them. She was a baby, for God’s sake! A harmless child. Just the thought of anyone trying to hurt her infuriated him. And he barely knew her. What must it have been like for Angel over the past two months, knowing there was someone out there who wanted her daughter dead?
For the first time, he understood why she’d pulled whatever strings she had to to stay with him instead of Myrtle Hende
rson. As crazy as he was about Myrtle, she was still an old woman who’d lived in Liberty Hill all her life and didn’t have a clue just how dangerous the world could be. Half the time, she didn’t even lock her door at night. Angel would have been a basket case if she’d had to stay there with Emma.
So she’d come to him. And what had he done? he thought in disgust. Given her nothing but a hard time. Granted, she hadn’t bothered to explain to him why she needed a more secure place to stay, but that didn’t excuse his own behavior. He’d treated her like dirt and believed all the bad press about her simply because she was too pretty for his peace of mind.
That was going to change.
She looked up then from her conversation with Emma to find him watching her. “If you have a minute, I need to talk to you,” he said and stepped back so she could precede him to his study.
She should have told him she had to return to work, but thanks to Will, she didn’t have to be back on the set for the rest of the day. She hadn’t asked for the time off, but Will had children of his own. Once he’d learned her stalker now knew where she was in Colorado, he’d been insistent that she take whatever time she needed to see to Emma’s safety.
As for Angel’s own safety, the studio had always contended that the best way to deal with stalkers was to keep a lid on the story so that it wouldn’t end up in the tabloids and encourage other weirdos to do the same thing. After she’d told Will about her discussion with Nick, however, he’d been forced to admit that the only person they were protecting with their silence was the stalker. The more people who knew there was someone out there terrorizing her, not to mention threatening to harm an innocent child, the less chance he would have of getting anywhere near Angel and Emma. Besides beefing up security, he’d promised to alert the entire cast and crew to be on the lookout for anyone who looked the slightest bit suspicious.
As much as she took comfort in that, however, she knew it was Joe McBride she would turn to in the event of an emergency. He might not like her and she wouldn’t blame him if he resented her for bringing her problems to his doorstep, but he would never turn his back on her or Emma if they needed his help. When it came to a crisis, he’d be rock-steady and there for her. And that gave her a tremendous sense of security.
Stepping into his study, she turned to face him. “I want to thank you for calling the sheriff. I know I should have told you about this the first day I moved in, but I didn’t know you and I wasn’t sure how you would react.”
“I wasn’t exactly in the best of moods,” he admitted. “Coming home to find you moving in was a shock. I wasn’t very diplomatic.”
He’d been downright rude, but she hadn’t handled the situation all that well either. “I wasn’t exactly Miss Manners myself.”
“Then why don’t we start over?” he suggested. “Ditch the schedule, forget everything that was said that day, and start over?” Giving her that rare smile of his, the one that always made her heart knock sideways in her breast, he held out his hand to her and smiled down into her eyes. “Welcome to my home, Ms. Wiley,” he said huskily. “I’m Joe McBride. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
She should have laughed, should have played along with him and let the moment slip by without making a big deal of it. But caught in the trap of his eyes, she couldn’t seem to think. In slow motion, she placed her hand in his and felt his fingers close around hers. In the time it took to draw her next breath, the fire that always sparked to life whenever they made the mistake of touching was there between them, heating their blood and setting their hearts hammering crazily.
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” she whispered softly.
Staring down at her, Joe knew he could have her in his arms with just a tug of his hand. That’s all it would take. One tug and she would lift her mouth to his and he could lose himself in the taste of her again. Since he’d walked out of the kitchen that morning, he’d thought of nothing but her all day, and it was driving him crazy. He didn’t want to want her, didn’t want to ache for her, but damn her, she tempted him past bearing! And it had to stop! He had to get her out of his head, and if the only way to do that was to kiss her until he satisfied this damn craving he had for her, then by God, he’d do it.
His eyes dark with purpose, he tightened his fingers around hers and started to draw her toward him when he suddenly realized what he was doing. Stiffening, he clenched his teeth on an oath. What the hell was wrong with him? Had he lost his mind? He’d kissed the lady exactly twice—and had a hard time forgetting it. A third time, and he just might get so wrapped up in her that he forgot Belinda, forgot how a city woman could fall into your arms one moment, then stab you in the back on her way out the door the next. Was that what he wanted?
Swallowing a curse, he dropped her hand and stepped back like a man who’d suddenly found himself standing at the edge of a cliff without knowing how he’d gotten there. “I meant what I said about the schedule,” he said roughly. “Forget it. And I don’t expect you to keep Emma penned up in your rooms either. I may need to shut myself up in my study on the nights when I have to catch up on paperwork, but other than that, the three of you are free to use whatever rooms you like, whenever you like.”
Her eyes searched his, but she was as businesslike as he when she nodded. “Thank you. But I should warn you that you might live to regret that. Emma can be a handful.”
“She’s a sweetheart.” The quick smile that curled one corner of his mouth died at the thought of anyone even thinking about harming her. “I know you’re worried and I don’t blame you, but this really is the safest place you could be right now. Think about it. The house sits in the middle of an open valley. Only a moron would try to grab you or Emma here, especially during the day. The nearest tree’s over a half mile away. If anyone even thinks about making a move in this direction, the guards’ll spot him the second he steps out in the open.”
“What about at night?”
“Extra guards’ll be posted,” he assured her. “And the house does have a security system. I know the bastard tracking you didn’t have any trouble getting past the one at your place in L.A., but this one should at least slow him down.
“And then there’s Buster. One of my sister, Merry’s, German shepherds,” he explained when she arched a brow at him. “She’s got three of them, and Buster’s the best of the lot. I’ll go pick him up this afternoon and bring him over to meet you and Emma. He’s small for a shepherd, but you won’t find a better watchdog anywhere. If anyone even thinks about coming near you with him around, they’ll live to regret it.”
That sounded good, but Angel wasn’t so sure that having a strange dog around was a good idea. The only dogs Emma had ever been around were two golden retrievers that belonged to Angel’s best friend, Debbie. Patient and loving, they didn’t snarl or bark or do anything more sinister than lick Emma until she giggled in delight. If she made the mistake of thinking she could hang on Buster the same way she did Debbie’s dogs, she could get seriously hurt.
“I don’t know,” she began with a frown. “The only dogs Emma’s ever been around were used to children.”
“Then she and Buster will get along just fine,” he assured her. “Just wait. You’ll see.”
Just as Joe promised, Emma and Buster took an instant liking to each other later that afternoon. Within minutes of meeting, they were fast friends. Amazed, Angel watched the German shepherd play catch with her daughter and couldn’t believe the dog was as protective as Joe had claimed. With his tongue lolling and his tail wagging happily, he looked like a big overgrown puppy…until he caught the sound of a vehicle coming down the ranch road that passed in front of Joe’s house. Growling low in his throat, the hair at the back of his neck rising in fury, he darted around Emma to place himself between her and the road and any possible approaching danger.
The truck that raced passed the house belonged to the studio and had every right to be there, but Buster didn’t relax his guard until it was long out of sight. Only when
he was satisfied that the danger was past did he trot back to Emma with a satisfied doggy grin on his face.
If Angel hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she never would have believed it. “Did you give him some kind of command? You must have. He doesn’t even know Emma. Why would he be so protective of her if he wasn’t trained to do so?”
“Because he knows by my acceptance of you that you’re both supposed to be here,” he replied simply. “And he’s very territorial. That makes you his to protect for as long as you’re here.”
“But I’m going to be here for at least two months! I can’t ask your sister to let me keep her dog all that time.”
“You didn’t,” he reminded her. “I did. And she was happy to do it. If someone was threatening Cassie and you had a dog that could protect her, you’d do the same thing, wouldn’t you?”
Angel couldn’t deny it. It was well known in Hollywood that she’d do anything to help a child in trouble. She gave generously to children’s charities, donating both her money and time when she could. Giving, however, was one thing, taking another. She didn’t accept favors from just anyone—not in L.A., not without suspecting their motives. But this wasn’t California, and Merry wasn’t just anyone. She was a McBride. That was all Angel needed to know.
“Yes, I would,” she said honestly. “I was just surprised that she made such an offer when she hasn’t even met me yet. I would have never asked such a thing of her—”
“Which is exactly why she made the offer,” he replied. “I told her what was going on and she wanted to help. Merry’s like that. She’d give the shirt off her back to someone in trouble. And I don’t like the idea of depending on just guards to protect you,” he added with a frown. “You saw what happened with that studio truck. Buster heard it coming long before we did. If anyone even thinks about sneaking up on you or Emma, they’ll have to go through Buster first.”
