Case File: Canyon Creek, Wyoming

by Graves, Paula

  So what if they’d be parting ways forever in just a few days? People had vacation flings all the time. Would it really be so wrong to enjoy whatever there was between them, even if she knew it could never last? Once she got home, she could file it away as a nice memory, to take out now and then and remember with fondness.

  Couldn’t she?

  Riley’s fingers crept lower, moving gently against the muscles of her neck. “How’s your head? Any more pain or dizziness?”

  “No,” she answered. The headache she’d awakened with was long gone, banished by the invigorating ride. She felt better than she had since the attack. “You don’t have to treat me like an invalid anymore. I really feel fine now.”

  He shifted until his legs were on either side of her and added his other hand to the neck massage. “I wouldn’t have brought you riding with me if I didn’t know that.”

  Giving up her resistance, she relaxed back against his chest and gave herself permission to enjoy being close to him.

  “Too bad we don’t have a deck of cards with us,” he murmured in her ear. “We could play another game of smackpop.”

  “Popsmack,” she corrected with a chuckle. “We don’t need cards—we could just take turns. You can start. Ask me anything.”

  “Anything?”

  She nodded. “Except how much I weigh.”

  “I already know. I peeked at your hospital chart.”

  She groaned. “Completely unfair.”

  He tugged at her hair. “Can I ask a question or not?”

  She sighed and settled back against him. “Shoot.”

  “Does the Crappie Queen have to wear a crown?”

  She nudged him with her elbow. “Smart aleck.”

  “And maybe one of those—what do you call it—sashes?”

  “It wasn’t like I was in a pageant or anything,” she protested. “I’m just the best crappie fisherman on Gossamer Lake. I know where all the little suckers are hiding, no matter what time of year.”

  She felt his lips nuzzle her earlobe. “Do you wear little shorts when you fish?”

  “Only in the summer,” she murmured, moving her head to make it easier for him to keep doing whatever amazing thing it was he was doing to the side of her neck. “And that’s two questions.”

  “Sorry. Your turn.”

  She pondered what to ask, not wanting anything to shatter this perfect moment of contentment. She could keep it light, she supposed, like he had. Something he could answer yes or no, so he wouldn’t have to remove his lips from the side of her neck for long.

  Before she had a chance to speak, however, Riley’s cell phone rang. Relaxation was over; Riley stood, stepping around the boulder as he answered. “Hey, Joe, what’s up?”

  As he listened to Joe’s response, his expression darkened. He shot a quick look at Hannah. “We’ll be right there.”

  “What’s happened?” she asked when he rang off.

  His expression went grim. “Someone’s leaked your name to the press.”

  THE FIRST FLUSH OF ALARM had passed quickly on the ride back to the house, settling into a low-level sense of tension by the time she and Riley found Joe waiting in the den.

  Joe didn’t waste time on the niceties. “A reporter from a Casper TV station who works out of Jackson Hole broke the story. They have your name and some of the details of the attack.”

  “How?” Riley asked tersely.

  “He says an anonymous source, but it almost has to be someone from the hospital. I think Jim Tanner runs too tight a ship for it to be anyone from his department.”

  “Could have been an EMT,” Riley suggested. “They were first on the scene, had access to her driver’s license. Someone could have greased somebody’s palm.”

  “Why is it even a story?” Hannah asked, torn between anxiety and confusion. “I’m nobody famous. I didn’t even get hurt that much.”

  “You’re a tourist,” Joe answered. “If someone’s out there attacking tourists, this close to two national parks—”

  “It’s news,” Hannah finished for him.

  “How much do they know about the attack?” Riley asked.

  “Less than we do. No mention of the cop-car angle, and of course, nobody’s connected it to any of the other murders, although I’m beginning to think it’s only a matter of time before someone puts two and two together and realizes that the murder at Grand Teton is connected.”

  “That’s odd, isn’t it?” Something tugged at the back of her mind. “The anonymous source didn’t think to add the part about the fake cop car. I mean, that would be a pretty sensational detail to omit.”

  “Maybe the leaker didn’t know that detail,” Joe said.

  “Or he didn’t want the press to know,” Hannah replied.

  Both men turned to look at her.

  “What if the killer is the one who leaked the information?” she asked.

  Riley’s expression darkened. “To flush you out?”

  “Using the press to do it,” Joe added.

  “Half the town knows Hannah’s here by now,” Riley said in alarm. “We need to move her somewhere else.”

  “No,” Hannah said firmly. An idea was clicking into place in her brain, perfect and terrible.

  “No?” Riley looked at her as if she’d lost her mind.

  “He wants to flush me out, right?”

  “Looks that way,” Riley agreed warily.

  She lifted her chin. “Then let him.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Riley turned abruptly toward Hannah, ceasing his rapid pacing. The stubborn set of her jaw, which he generally found appealing, had started to get on his nerves over the last half hour, as he and Joe had tried in vain to talk her out of her dangerous, hare-brained idea. “That’s it. You’re not doing it. Discussion over.”

  Next to him, Joe took a deep, swift breath. He gave Riley a warning look that Riley ignored.

  “You’re not my keeper,” Hannah retorted, crossing closer and coming to a stop in front of him. Her eyes blazed with green fire. “You don’t order me around.”

  Riley looked over at Joe, completely at a loss. “Tell her it’s a bad idea.”

  “I’ve spent the last thirty minutes doing just that,” Joe reminded him. “But she’s right. It’s her choice. Even if it’s wrong,” he added sternly, giving Hannah a look of pure frustration.

  “I don’t have a lot of time left to help you catch this guy, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to my nice, safe life in Alabama if I don’t do everything I can to stop that monster from killing another woman.” Her expression softened, her green eyes pleading with Riley to understand. “Emily would do the same thing, wouldn’t she?”

  He pressed his lips together, biting back a harsher retort. “That’s below the belt, Hannah.” He slanted a look at Joe, who got the message and headed out of the den to give them some privacy.

  Her expression softened more. “I’m sorry. I just need you to understand.”

  He closed his hands around her arms, desperate to make her see what she was asking of him. “I understand. But I don’t think you do.”

  “I lost Emily three years ago this week,” he said, trying not to let too much of his emotion spill over into his words. He wasn’t looking for her pity. He wanted her to understand the stakes. “She wasn’t doing anything crazy, just driving home from work, and suddenly she just wasn’t there anymore. Everything we’d built together was gone, in a heartbeat.”

  She lifted her hand to his face, her palm warm and soft against his jaw. “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to see that I don’t need this bastard to kill someone else I care about.”

  Moisture pooled in her eyes. “I don’t think it has to be that risky,” she answered. “Listen—we already know he’s taking more risks than he usually does, or he wouldn’t have killed the woman near Moran. I’m the one who got away, and it’s driving him crazy.”

  She took his hand in hers, dr
awing him with her to the sofa. They sat together, silent for a minute, as if they’d mutually agreed to let their passions cool so they could talk more reasonably.

  She folded his hand between hers, her grip gentle but firm. “He’s the one who’s out of control. If he really did tip off the press, he’s the one taking a risk. The reporter he talked to knows who he is.”

  “He’s not going to burn his source.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It was still a risk, and the killer took it because he can’t stand that I’m the one who got away. I’m the one who was smarter than he was. That’s how he sees it. He can’t let that stand.”

  “What makes you think we can do this thing safely?”

  “We hold all the cards. We know he’s after me. We’re on alert. He’s the one taking stupid chances.”

  Riley pulled his hand away from hers and stood. “No. It’s not worth the risk.” He paced away from her, a bleak resolve stiffening his back. No way in hell would he let her put herself in the kind of danger she was talking about. There was only one choice left. One he hated more than he ever imagined he would. But it was the best way to keep her safe.

  He turned and took in the sight of her slowly, thoroughly. Committing her to memory. When he spoke, his voice was tinged with regret but full of calm resolve.

  “It’s time for you to go home, Hannah.”

  “YOU’RE GOING TO LEAVE A MARK.” Jack took the grooming brush from Hannah’s hand and patted Bella’s side. They were alone in the stable; Joe and Riley were back at the house, talking about new strategies for going after the killer without Hannah’s involvement.

  She’d made her escape to the stable soon after Riley’s calm announcement that her time in Wyoming was over, using the horses as an excuse to get away from him before she said something she’d regret.

  “He’s not trying to get rid of you, you know.”

  She knew. She’d seen the regret in Riley’s eyes. Somehow that only made things worse.

  “And for what it’s worth, I think you’re right about talking to the press.” Jack handed the brush back to her. “If we have a chance to catch that monster—”

  Hannah touched his arm, knowing that his need to catch the killer was even greater than her own.

  “What are you going to do now?” A thoughtful look darkened Jack’s eyes.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted, trading the grooming brush for a mane comb. “I don’t have a death wish, but I don’t have a lot of time left here. I just don’t think I can leave without doing all I can to help stop this guy from killing again.”

  “I’ll help you, if you want to do it.” Jack’s dark gaze met hers. “I know a guy with the paper in Jackson. I can set up an interview with him. He’s a good guy—he won’t take advantage. He’ll agree to whatever precautions we think are necessary to keep you safe.”

  “Riley will be furious with you.”

  “I’m a big boy. Besides, I’m faster than he is. He’d have to catch me.”

  Hannah chuckled softly. “How quickly could you set it up?” Time was too short as it was.

  “I can call him right now.” Jack pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “You want to do it?”

  She nibbled her lip, doubts creeping in now that the moment of decision was at hand. Was Riley’s idea the better choice? Should she grab the next flight out of Wyoming and return home to the safety of her family, even if it meant turning her back on the best chance to catch Emily’s killer that might ever come Riley’s way?

  The thought of Riley Patterson spending the rest of his life entrapped by his need for justice made the decision for her. “Let’s do it,” she said, meeting Jack’s questioning eyes. “Call your friend.”

  “YOU’RE NOT SAYING YOU THINK she’s right, are you?” Riley whipped around and gave his friend a look of disbelief.

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying.” Joe held his hands up defensively. “At least, not exactly.”

  Riley slumped into the armchair, frustrated. If it were anyone but Hannah, would he be trying to stop her? On the merits, her idea was solid. The killer was getting bold—and therefore sloppy. There had probably never been a better time to take the offense against him.

  But the thought of letting that bastard near Hannah, even if it made him a sitting duck, made his blood run cold.

  Losing Emily had almost killed him. If Hannah died, too…

  “How about a compromise?” Joe asked. “No making her a target—but she sticks around for the rest of her vacation.”

  “She’s too easy to trace to me.”

  “So take her out of town. She wanted to see Grand Teton—I’ll get Jim Tanner to book you a couple of rooms in Jackson Hole and you can do the tourist thing. Maybe she can relax a little, remember something new—”

  “That just puts her closer to the killer’s hunting grounds.”

  “Are you in love with her?”

  Riley looked up sharply. “What kind of question is that?”

  “It’s not a crime to fall in love again.” The gentleness in Joe’s voice only made Riley angrier.

  “Hannah Cooper is here only because I hoped she would remember something else about the attack on her,” Riley said with a firmness he didn’t feel. “I think she’s remembered all she can, so it’s time for her to go home.”

  “Good to know,” Hannah said quietly from the doorway to the den. She met Riley’s startled gaze with moist green eyes.

  “Hannah—”

  She turned and walked down the hall toward her room.

  The look Joe gave Riley was as hard as a punch. “Who are you trying to impress with your loner act, Riley? Emily?” Joe stood and paced angrily to the doorway, turning to deliver one last shot. “Emily would hate what you’re becoming.” He walked out without another word.

  Riley leaned forward in the armchair, resting his aching head in his hands. He hadn’t cried since Emily’s funeral, but hot tears gathered in his eyes right now, stinging painfully. He blinked them back, refusing to give in to the weakness. Anger, not grief, was what kept him upright these days. He couldn’t afford to fall apart.

  Not now, when he was closer than he’d ever been to finally catching the man who’d stolen the best part of his life.

  “HE DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE it sounded.” Jack took the shirt out of Hannah’s suitcase and put it back on the bed with the other shirts stacked there. “I’ve known him longer than you have. I know when he cares about someone. He cares about you.”

  She snatched the shirt back from the stack and shoved it into the suitcase. “I know he cares about me. But not enough to keep me here.”

  “Are you in love with him?”

  She glared at Jack. “I’m not stupid.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “Yes, it is.” She punctuated the statement by slamming a pair of socks into the suitcase.

  “It’s not stupid to love someone.”

  She slumped to the bed. “It is if that someone is in love with someone else.”

  Jack cocked his head, his eyes narrowing. “We’re not talking about Riley anymore, are we?”

  “Not entirely,” she admitted.

  Jack leaned back on the bed, propping himself up with his elbows. “So tell Dr. Jack all about it.”

  She rolled her eyes at him, not wanting to be amused. But his humor was contagious, and her lips crooked slightly in response. “A week ago, this was all just a pitiful memory I was mostly over,” she started. “I mean, it was four years ago, and it ended the way it was supposed to end—”

  “With some other woman getting the guy?”

  “He was always hers. She was his first love, and neither of them really got over it. I thought I loved him enough for both of us.” She buried her face in her hands, mortified by the memory of her foolishness. “I was such an idiot.”

  “I’ve seen bigger idiots, trust me.” Jack looked at her with sympathy. “How far did it get?”

  She flushed with embarrassment. “The
bachelor party.”

  Jack winced. “That far, huh?”

  She lifted her chin, finding the steel at her center even though her heart was breaking a little. “I know Riley’s not going to suddenly get over Emily just because he met me. I’m not going to fool myself into thinking otherwise. Does that answer your question?”

  “No,” he said with a smile. “But, that’s not even the most important question anymore. Are you going back home?”

  She shook her head. “I have three more days of vacation left, and I have an interview with a reporter.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  “But I am leaving here,” she added, reaching for the stack of shirts again.

  “I don’t think you should.”

  “Riley’s decided I should leave.”

  “I’m asking you to stay,” he countered stubbornly. “You can stay as my guest.”

  “It’s Riley’s house.”

  “He’ll cool down and see reason,” Jack said confidently. “As long as you don’t tell him about the press interview.”

  “You think I should lie to him?”

  “I think you should just not tell him.” Jack reached into the suitcase and started removing the clothing she’d already packed. “Mark Archibald’s meeting us at Kent’s Steakhouse at five. I’ll tell Riley you need time to cool off and I’m taking you out for dinner. That’s not a lie, right?”

  Hannah had to smile a little at that, remembering how Riley had tried to keep the lies they were telling Jack as close to the truth as possible. They were more like brothers than either of them realized. “No, it’s not a lie,” she agreed. “We are going to dinner and I do need time to cool off.”

  And maybe, once the plan was in action, Riley would see why it was the only real choice she’d had.

  THE INTERVIEW WITH THE reporter went as well as she could have hoped. Mark Archibald was friendly, funny and sympathetic. He asked good questions, which she answered as honestly as she could, while keeping a few of the details to herself, like the silver belt buckle and the fact that the killer had worn latex gloves when he attacked. She knew the police liked to keep some things back, in case they got a call from someone claiming to be the killer.