Case File: Canyon Creek, Wyoming

by Graves, Paula

  She made it clear, however, that there was more she remembered that she wasn’t telling. She hoped Mark would make that fact just as clear in his article. She had to make herself as tempting to the killer as possible.

  “It’ll be in the paper tomorrow morning,” Jack said on the drive back. He seemed jittery and energized, as if the cloak and dagger game they were playing had brought him to life. That definitely wasn’t how Riley had reacted to lying, she remembered. Maybe he and Jack weren’t so alike, after all.

  “You need to calm down or Riley will know something’s up,” she suggested.

  He grinned. “I know. I just—I think it’s going to work. I think it’s going to smoke this freak out and get a little justice for Em.”

  “And for the other women, too,” Hannah added soberly.

  His grin faded. “For the other women, too.” He parked his truck next to Riley’s in the yard. “I’m going to go feed the horses. You go on in.”

  “Coward,” she said, but lightly, because it probably wasn’t a good idea for Riley to see Jack as wound up as he was right now. Riley would wonder what his brother-in-law was up to.

  She went into the house alone, not certain what she’d find. The kitchen was empty, though he’d left the light on over the sink so she wouldn’t be entering into darkness. The hallway was dark, but a light shone in the guest room.

  She entered her room to find Riley sitting on the bed, holding the sweater she’d left lying on her bed when she’d changed clothes for dinner with Jack and the reporter.

  He looked up at her, his expression calm and regretful. “I didn’t tell Joe the truth,” he said.

  She stopped at the rocking chair near the wood stove and sat, folding her hands on her lap. She held his gaze, waiting for him to elaborate. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to hear from him—the blunt, harsh truth or some half-baked pointless apology. Either way, it was going to hurt.

  “I’m not just using you to find Emily’s murderer. I do care about whether or not you get hurt.” He bent forward, his forearms resting on his knees. He looked as bone-weary as she felt. “The last three years have been hard.”

  “Sounds like an understatement,” she murmured.

  His pain-darkened eyes lifted to meet hers. “I used to be a very different man. I wasn’t driven, I wasn’t focused. I just enjoyed life as it came. Rode out whatever happened, not worrying too much about it. I had my health, I had my friends, I had Emily.”

  She didn’t want to think about how much his description of his former life matched her own. Despite the broken heart she’d told Jack about, her life had been pretty good. Pretty easy. She’d done well in school, never having to struggle to achieve. Surrounded by a loving, happy family and the friends she’d grown up with, she’d gone to college just as planned, took a job at the Marina because it was what she’d always assumed she’d do.

  What in her life had ever been a struggle before now?

  “I sometimes think Joe just sticks around out of stubbornness. I’m a terrible friend to him. He and Jane were in a dangerous mess a couple of years ago, and I barely managed to pull my head out of my backside enough to give them a hand right about the time it was all over.” He looked away, his face flushed with shame. “My other friends gave up a long time ago. I keep telling my parents I’m fine, but they know. They just don’t know what to do about it.”

  “It’s hard to know what to say to someone who’s hurting,” she said, thinking about her brother J.D., who was, at least, lucky enough to have his two kids to keep him putting one foot in front of the other every day.

  “It’s not their fault. It’s mine.” He briefly pressed his palms against his temples, then dropped his hands to his knees. “I’ve pushed people away because it took all the energy I had to keep going, keep focusing on finding out who killed Emily and those other women. I can’t—I can’t let other things matter.”

  His voice faltered, the words trembling on his tongue. She wanted to go to him, pull him into her arms and share the burden, but he clearly wasn’t ready for that.

  Might never be ready.

  “But you matter,” he said finally, so softly that she almost missed it. He looked up at her, his eyes blazing blue fire. “You matter.”

  He lurched off the bed, towering over her for a long, breathless moment, then bent and put his hands on the rocking chair arms, leaning close enough that she felt his breath warm on her cheeks. “You can’t put yourself at any further risk. Do you understand? If something happened to you—”

  Tears burned her eyes and spilled down her cheeks as he pulled her to her feet and into his embrace. His mouth descended on hers, fiery sweet and urgent. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, needing the heat of him against her trembling body. Guilt mingled with desire as she struggled to find the center of her suddenly upended world.

  He edged her toward the bed, turning and falling until she lay beneath him, her back against the mattress. He drew back long enough to cradle her head between his hands and gaze down at her with a question in his eyes.

  Her body screamed for him to keep touching her, keep kissing her, to fill the aching, empty places inside her. But her mind was dark with regret, because she’d already set into motion something that would put her in much more danger, the one thing he’d just begged her not to do.

  “Stop,” she said softly as he bent to kiss her again.

  Riley went still, gazing at her with suddenly wary eyes. She felt the rapid drumbeat of his heart against her chest.

  “I talked to a reporter tonight,” she confessed.

  Chapter Twelve

  Riley froze, Hannah’s admission washing over him like ice water. His arms trembled as he hovered over her, trying to process what he’d just heard.

  “I told him some of what happened to me.” The words spilled from Hannah’s lips in an inflectionless rush. “I held back most of the details—the belt buckle, the latex gloves. But I mentioned that my attacker posed as a cop. And I made it clear that I remembered more than I was telling the reporter.”

  He rolled away from her, sitting up with his back to her. Cold, hard fear settled in his gut as a dozen terrifying outcomes rattled through his brain like a horrible slide show.

  What had she done?

  “I’m sorry,” she said, regret threaded through her voice. “I thought I had to do something to push things forward. I have so little time left before I have to go back home.”

  If she even made it home alive, he thought bleakly. “You shouldn’t have done that.” His voice came out hard and strangled.

  She didn’t answer.

  “How did you get in touch with a reporter?”

  She couldn’t answer that question without implicating Jack. She hedged instead. “Does it matter? It was my choice to do it.”

  He looked inclined to probe deeper, but to her relief, he just sighed and asked, “Can we stop it?”

  “No. He was writing and filing the story as soon as he got back to the office. It’s probably already on the press.”

  He pushed to his feet, not ready to give up. He pulled out his cell phone. “Who was the reporter?”

  “I don’t even remember the paper—it’s a daily out of Jackson. The reporter’s name is Mark Archibald.” She caught his arm, tugging him around to look at her. “I don’t think we should stop it, Riley.”

  Her chin was up, her jaw squared. A sinking feeling settled in his gut, and he shook off her hand. “Like hell.” He flipped open the phone and dialed the number for Teton County Sheriff Jim Tanner.

  Tanner answered on the second ring. “Jim Tanner.”

  “Sheriff Tanner, it’s Riley Patterson.” Not waiting for the chief’s response, he tersely outlined what Hannah had told him about her meeting with the Jackson reporter. “Can you get the story killed?”

  After a brief pause, Jim Tanner answered, “No.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “The First Amendment comes to mind,” Tanner a
nswered in a dry drawl. “Also, we’re doing a disservice to the communities we serve by holding back on this any longer.”

  Riley couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “This article will put Hannah Cooper’s life in greater danger.”

  “And not running it will put the lives of women all over Wyoming in greater danger,” Tanner countered firmly. “Hannah Cooper has a cop playing bodyguard for her twenty-four hours a day. Those other women don’t even know the flashing blue light in their rearview mirrors could mean their lives are over.”

  Riley slumped against the bedroom wall, reason starting to gain on the galloping fear eating away at his insides. They’d only sat on the story this long to give Hannah time to remember more before they went public. But the women of Wyoming were sitting ducks with no idea what might be lurking out there to snuff out their lives. They didn’t know what to look for or how to protect themselves.

  He closed his eyes. “Okay. It runs.”

  He heard Hannah release a slow, shaky breath. Opening his eyes, he found her watching him with eyes bright with tears.

  “I should probably schedule a press conference once the story breaks,” Tanner added, a hint of weary resignation tinting his voice. “Want to be part of it?”

  “Hold on a sec.” Riley covered the mouthpiece. “Is the reporter going to say anything about where you’re staying?” he asked Hannah.

  “No,” she answered. “The idea for this story was to get the killer’s attention and get him thinking about me again, instead of going on the hunt for another woman.”

  He saw the fear lurking like a vulture behind her eyes, but the brave determination in her voice inspired his admiration. He might be mad as hell that she’d put her life on the line, but he had gained a new respect for her courage.

  “Keep me out of it,” he told Tanner. Having him there might provide the killer with a clue where to look for Hannah.

  “Okay,” Tanner agreed. “I’ll see if I can get an early look at what the paper’s going to run with. If I can, want me to fax you a copy?”

  “Fax it to the police department.” He gave Jim Tanner the station’s fax number. “Joe will get it to me.”

  He rang off, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Tanner thinks it should run,” he told Hannah.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  He released a long, slow breath, trying to answer with his head instead of his gut. “I think the women of Wyoming should know there’s someone out there pretending to be a cop, pulling them over, abducting and killing them.”

  The corners of her lip twitched briefly, though the relief didn’t quite make it to her eyes. “I’m sorry I blindsided you with it.”

  “I’d have been more blindsided if I’d opened the paper in the morning and found you on page one,” he admitted. “I appreciate the heads-up.”

  Uncertainty flitted across her face, but he didn’t know how to reassure her. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to. The danger surrounding her was about to grow exponentially thanks to one small newspaper story, and he found himself wanting to retreat, to save himself from the torment he knew might be coming.

  What if he couldn’t keep her safe?

  He was already half a man, thanks to losing Emily. If something happened to Hannah, would there be anything left?

  “I need to go lock up for the night. We’ll talk in the morning.” He rose to go.

  Behind him, he heard her take a quick breath, as if she had something to say. But he didn’t turn back to look at her, and she didn’t speak, so he closed the door behind him and went out to wait for Jack.

  THE WOMAN STARING AT HANNAH in the mirror looked like crap. Purple shadows bruised the skin beneath her eyes, dark against her pale cheeks. Her body still buzzed with unsatisfied hunger, but her heart felt as hard and cold as a rock.

  Riley had left the bedroom only moments ago, but he’d distanced himself from her long before he closed the door. She’d watched it happen, saw his expression shutter and the light in his eyes blink out.

  He’d had too much pain in his life already. And she’d just asked him to take a chance on a whole lot more.

  No wonder he’d walked away.

  It was bittersweet, knowing that Riley really did care about her. Maybe not enough to build a relationship on, but she supposed it was something she could take home with her, like a secret souvenir, to bring out now and then to remember what it was like to be wrapped up tight in Riley’s arms.

  But would that be enough? Could she go home, never to return, and be content with nothing but a memory?

  WHEN JACK CAME BACK FROM the stable, Riley was waiting for him. Jack didn’t even have time to say hello before Riley pushed him against the door.

  “You went behind my back and called a reporter in.”

  Jack’s expression went from puzzled to guilty. “Hannah told you.”

  “No, but you should have.”

  He sighed. “I’m sorry. But someone needed to do something, and you were about to pack Hannah off to Alabama rather than listen to what she was trying to tell you. She wanted to talk to Mark.”

  “Because she feels guilty about being the one who got away. You know how that feels, Jack.”

  Jack blanched, and Riley felt a little ashamed of himself. But it was the truth, however harsh. One of the things that tied him and Jack together, now that Emily was gone, was good old-fashioned guilt.

  He was a cop, Jack was a rodeo cowboy. They were the ones with dangerous lives, not Emily, who’d been the nurturer. The healer. And yet, she’d been the one to go too early. Either one of them would have traded places with her in a heartbeat.

  Jack gave Riley a little push out of his way. “I know something else, Riley. I know what it feels like to need to make things right.” He crossed to the kitchen sink, fiddled with the cups drying on the rack, and finally just rested his hands on the counter, his head dropping to his chest. “Hannah’s time here is almost over, and she feels she hasn’t done anything to get you any closer to catching that bastard. It’s been eating her up.”

  “You think I didn’t notice?” Riley challenged, growing angrier by the second.

  Jack turned slowly to look at him. “Did you? Sometimes I think the only thing you see these days is your own pain.”

  Riley flexed his fingers, longing to drive his fist into the stubborn set of Jack’s square jaw. He forced himself to stay where he was, needing distance to get a grip on himself.

  “It’s not me you’re angry at,” Jack added.

  “Wrong,” Riley snapped. “It’s not just that you set up the meeting, though that’s bad enough. It’s that you didn’t have the guts to be a man and tell me about it.”

  “You would have stopped it.”

  “That’s an excuse for lying?”

  “I did what I thought I had to do,” Jack answered. “For Hannah—and for Emily.”

  A thread of dark pain turned Riley’s anger into weary resignation. “I trusted you with Hannah’s safety and you put her in danger. How am I supposed to trust you after that?”

  Jack looked as if Riley had slapped him. “I guess you can’t.” He turned on his heel and headed out of the kitchen.

  Riley followed him into the den. “I have enough to deal with, just keeping Hannah safe, and what the two of you did is only going to make things harder.” He realized Jack was starting to pack his bag. “Going somewhere?”

  “I don’t stay where I’m not wanted.”

  Riley sighed. “Where would you go?”

  Jack glared at him over his shoulder. “I didn’t come here to mooch. I came here because this was Emily’s home. I have enough money to rent a motel room for a few days.”

  “Then what?”

  “That’s my business.” Jack stuffed the last pair of jeans into his bag and started past Riley.

  “Jack—” Riley went after him, catching his arm at the door. Down the hallway, the door to Hannah’s room opened, and she stepped halfway into the hall, her eyes meeting his.<
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  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  Jack set his bag on the floor and walked toward her. “I’m heading out.”

  Hannah looked down at the bag, her brow wrinkling with dismay. “You’re leaving?”

  “Just like a tumbleweed, sweetheart.” Jack patted her cheek. “It’s been great meeting you, Hannah Cooper. If I’m ever in Alabama, I’ll look you up.”

  Hannah followed him into the kitchen, with Riley on her heels. “What’s going on?”

  “Riley’s had his fill of me, I think.”

  “That’s not what I said,” Riley insisted.

  “If this is about the reporter, that was my doing, Riley!” Hannah grabbed his arm, desperation in her eyes. “Jack did what I asked him to do. Please—”

  “I didn’t tell him to leave,” he said weakly.

  “Did you tell him to stay?” she countered, her eyes flashing with fire. “If anyone leaves, it should be me. It was my idea. I’m the outsider.”

  “Stop it, Hannah.” Jack put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s time. This just gives me an excuse to make a dramatic exit.” When he looked up at Riley, his dark eyes were warm with understanding. “I’m just hiding out here anyway because I don’t want to face what I left behind in Texas.”

  If Riley knew his brother-in-law at all, what he left behind in Texas was a broken heart.

  “I need to see if I can fix what I broke,” Jack added softly.

  That was a first, Riley thought. Maybe the kid really had started to grow up this time.

  “I’m not kicking you out,” he said aloud, not because he thought it would soften the resolve he saw in Jack’s eyes, but because it needed to be said.

  “I know.” As Hannah stepped aside, Jack stepped forward and held out his hand.

  Riley took it, giving it a firm, warm shake. “At least stay the night. Where are you going to find a motel that’ll take you in this time of night?