by Lora Leigh
“I’m gonna go in and find her a blanket, and then I’ll go,” she promised, lips tightening at the obvious displeasure in his look.
He was acting as though he would have preferred to die. God save her from arrogant men some days. Standing, she handed over her weapon, her gaze meeting his.
Hunter sighed heavily but said nothing. His eyes were intense and angry. She scowled back before she turned and walked into the disheveled house.
It smelled of smoke, bad whiskey, and cat pee. She breathed through her mouth as she pulled a crocheted afghan from the back of the couch. It would have to do. Samantha stepped out of the house and lay the afghan around the other woman’s shoulders.
“Coroner and ambulance are on their way.” Hunter spoke low and calmly. “Homicide and ID tech will be here tomorrow. Looks like you’re probably gonna get that extra leave, whether you wanted it or not.”
She looked up at him briefly.
His expression was hard and stoic. He was right. This was a complicated mess, and she’d be put on leave with pay until she was cleared. She’d been there before and she hated it. There was a good reason an officer was put on leave. They needed the time to recoup and heal. Even so, just as the others had, this would haunt her, but the alternative, as before, wasn’t acceptable.
She wasn’t sure exactly what Hunter was thinking, but she was confident that her actions were justified. He’d just have to get over his indignation.
A gentle breeze lifted her hair as she walked to her car. She shivered but the cool air against her neck felt nice, bracing.
“What happened?” the neighbor lady asked. Her face was pale in the dim light of her porchlight. “Is Eldon dead? Didja shoot him?”
“Go inside, ma’am. Everything’s under control.” Or was it?
“But we heard a gunshot!” the man beside her, her husband obviously, accused.
“I said go inside,” she snapped, then took a deep breath. “Please. There will be some detectives that will want to interview you sometime in the next few days.”
“All right then.” They said it in unison and any other time that would have made her smile.
She sat in the car and watched Hunter tend to Vanetta. At some point he’d covered Eldon’s body. She’d been through testing before. The reality of that was sitting there on the edge of her conscious thought, just waiting to be fully absorbed. She was sure she would play it over again many times before she would be able to let it go.
She always did.
Her history with Tom Novak and her own brush with domestic violence could possibly surface during the investigation, and she wasn’t sure how much bearing that would have on the situation. To say she hadn’t been affected by the events that took place before the shooting would be a lie.
Was she positive her emotions didn’t guide her tonight? Her reaction had been by the book, she was certain. She played it over in her mind again, looking for some other route she could have taken, but she couldn’t see how shooting Mr. Miller could have been avoided. She had followed her instinct and her training.
Finally she began to relax a little.
She’d been absolutely correct. If she hadn’t followed Hunter, things may have ended so much worse than they had. A double murder and suicide wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility.
A shudder went through her at the thought. The thought of losing Hunter in such a way was inconceivable.
She caught the faint, subtle scent combination of Hunter and his aftershave. On her clothes, on her skin. An acute reminder that what had happened earlier tonight couldn’t happen again. It wasn’t something she ever expected would happen in the first place, and there was no reason to believe it would happen again regardless. There was no wisdom in letting it be a factor in their relationship from here on. Everything was suddenly tossed in the air now.
The glow of the flashing ambulance lights caught her attention before she heard the sirens. She watched as they pulled into the yard and rushed out to tend to Vanetta. They took her vitals, reported it to the hospital, then helped her onto the stretcher. It all took maybe twenty minutes before they were pulling out, no siren this time, but the lights were still flashing. Samantha was so focused she didn’t notice Hunter walking toward her. She stiffened when he opened her door.
“You okay?” His voice was less than soothing.
“Yep.” She was fine. What she didn’t need was this male attitude she was getting from him.
“That was a damn fool gamble, Sam.” His tone was one shade too close to reproving.
“One that saved your ass, Hunter.” She stood her ground, glaring back at him. “You didn’t know about the handgun, and you holstered your weapon, something you should have never done.”
“I agree.” She watched him, watched the regret and somber knowledge in his gaze. “I’ve dealt with these two so many times it had become routine. I have always been able to talk him down. This was my fault, and I’m not backing away from it. Doesn’t mean I don’t hate the hell out of the fact that you were involved.”
“Hunter, he would have killed you. He meant to kill you, according to his wife.” She shook her head at that knowledge. “Something’s not right in this little county of yours, and you know it.”
“Fuck, Sam. I know.” The knowledge in his expression was heavy with regret and concern.
People close to him, people he cared about were dying, and like her, it was starting to piss him off.
“So don’t be pissy with me for showing up. It’s misogynistic,” she accused him, her irritation impossible to hide.
Hunter’s expression hardened. “That’s not why I’m pissed off.”
She turned away and stared out the windshield. “You’re pissed off because I’m right.”
He made a sound that was much like a growl before rubbing his hands over his face. He knew she was right; he was just too bull-headed to admit it.
“God, you’re stubborn.” His fingers were warm as they brushed over her jaw to her chin. He lifted her face and searched her eyes. “You’re not okay.”
Neither was he, but she didn’t want to point that out just now. She pulled away from him, even though what she wanted more than anything was to be wrapped in his arms. She cleared her throat and sat up straighter. “I’m fine. This is really gonna put a wrench in the works.”
His hand dropped away as his eyes narrowed slightly. “Yeah. We’ll deal with it. The coroner will be here any minute. They’ll send out a team in the morning. You can go on home. Be at the office in the morning for paperwork.”
“I understand police procedure.” The words came out a little shakier than she’d intended.
“I know you do. Go home. I mean it, Sam. Go the fuck home. Try to get some sleep.”
“Where the hell else would I go?” She wanted to scream, but her words came out low and harsh, but quiet.
“Good.” He sighed. His tone had softened. “I’m gonna head back over. Hang in there, Pixie.” Dammit! He had to stop it. She wasn’t that silly girl he used to know. He couldn’t be her soft place to fall. Not anymore.
chapter six
Anger and frustration pounded at Hunter while sat at his office desk, staring silently at the reports that lay on the desk before him. There was an air of sarcasm and mockery in each report, nothing overt, but enough to irritate his already raw disposition. It didn’t help that he didn’t get much sleep last night. Sam had been right. Little Pixie Pest was smart and quick. She’d saved his ass last night and that didn’t sit well with him at all. He should have gone in weapon drawn. He’d slipped up, and now Sam was paying the price. She wouldn’t be if she’d just listened to him. She made him crazy.
Add to that, Rodgers and Decker were becoming increasingly insubordinate. Hunter knew he was going to have to confront the mayor over them soon. The only problem was Mayor Henderson had hired both jackasses over his uncle Zachariah’s head. They had been decent deputies, and for the most part they’d done their jobs. In the past year or
so, however, the two had caused more problems than they had solved.
He poured another cup of coffee and dialed Jacob’s cell. Jacob knew things. It surprised him that his friend actually answered.
“Yeah.”
“Hey. When you gettin’ your ass back up here?”
“’Bout another week. What’s up?”
Hunter filled him in without elaborating too much. Jacob was exceptional at picking up on subtle clues.
“Yeah,” Jacob told him. “I know I don’t know anything, but there’s been some damned strange shit goin’ on. Just keep your eyes open. Wouldn’t hurt to ride by Sid Carter’s place, check it out, make sure everything’s good up there.”
Jacob was referring to the camping area that was close by Sid’s old place. Sid didn’t live there anymore. He’d passed on and the place was abandoned. Anyone who hadn’t lived here in the past twenty years probably wouldn’t know who the hell Sid Carter was. The camping area Jacob was referring to was a government deal, but privately run. It was set back from the main road, the camping spots situated for privacy. Through the summer, RVs of every shape and size made use of it.
Back along the mountain, there were some hideaways easily accessible for an SUV or four-wheel drive. The caves ran for miles, could be anything going on out there.
Hunter grimaced. He probably should have been patrolling around there a long time ago.
“Have you seen anyone out that way?”
Jacob grunted. “So far, man, I don’t know shit.” Which was a lie if there ever was one. Meaning, they needed to have a conversation as soon as he got back.
“All right then. We’ll have to have a beer when ya get back.”
“You’re buyin’.” Jacob’s good-hearted chuckle was anything but.
“Fair enough.” Hunter’s voice was light, but his mind was racing. Jacob was sittin’ on something serious. Add to that, he hadn’t bothered to let Hunter know about it before he left. That right there was not a good sign. Not good at all.
“I’ll be in touch,” Jacob said pointedly before he ended the call.
Son of a bitch, just what Hunter needed right now, another fucking conspiracy, or was it the same one?
Whatever was going on had him suspicious as hell. Zachariah had been killed by someone he knew. No way in hell would anyone else have been able to get close enough to make the shooting appear to be a hunting accident.
Hunter narrowed his eyes as he stared down at the files. It hadn’t escaped him that Rodgers’s wife was driving a new Benz, and his daughter was taking those expensive dance lessons down in Oroville. How was Rodgers payin’ for all that? Sure wasn’t on his deputy’s salary. The possible answers that materialized in Hunter’s mind made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
The puzzle involving the three deaths? They were linked. He knew in his gut they were, but he would be damned if he could figure out where or how.
Shaking his head, Hunter rose to his feet and filed their reports. He’d have to put it on the back burner for now. Sam would be in soon to fill out her report and to meet with the lawyer, union rep, and the detectives who were apparently out at the Miller place now.
Sam was a damn good shot, a good cop. Her reaction was correct and justified, but he could tell that it had taken a toll on her. Whenever a good cop had to use lethal force, it had a lasting effect. No matter how much the perpetrator deserved it.
Vanetta was still in the hospital on a psych watch. She’d been through it. No matter how much he’d tried to get her to see reason, cajoled and begged her, she never would press charges. He honestly thought he’d end up locking Eldon up for murder one day. He lost count of how many times he’d gone up to the Millers’ place to calm them down.
Eldon wasn’t just drunk and mean this time, he’d been manic and unreachable. It was as though he was somewhere else. Something had him crazed. Meth was prevalent in the mountains, as was the “oxy epidemic.” Really, it could have been any combination of things. Hunter should have been prepared. He’d let his guard down, assuming this call would be like all the others. He’d fucked up and that didn’t sit well.
Sam. Dear God, the woman was trouble. The way it felt with her warm, soft body pressed tightly against his warred with the nagging anger that she’d followed him out on the call. It had plagued his mind all through the night.
Sex with Sam had made everything shift. It had been mindless passion, wild and out of control. Never had he experienced anything quite like that. Thinking about the fiery way she’d moaned and responded to him, the way her hot, slick body gripped his cock like an iron fist with every thrust had him hard and throbbing again.
If he hoped to get any work done he had to stop thinking about it. He couldn’t get her alone right now to touch her, kiss her. The investigation would be common procedure, but it wasn’t fun for any cop to have to go through. She’d be stuck in interrogations most of the day. He needed to focus on something else.
“Hey, boss,” Shane called through the door, knocking sharply at the frosted glass.
“Yeah?” Hunter cleared his throat and sat back in his chair.
His brows were furrowed. “Ms. Samantha is here with her lawyer and also…”
Hunter waved his hand. He knew who all were there. “Could you see about getting coffee for everyone?”
“Sure. No problem.” Shane’s voice held none of his usual light-heartedness. He paused as if to ask something, then thought better of it. “On it.”
Shane left the door open, and Hunter could see Sam standing tall and straight, looking her lawyer in the eye as he spoke to her. With a sigh, he picked up the reports and headed toward the group in the lobby.
* * *
“Looks like you’re gonna be cleared.” Back in his office after her lawyer departed, Hunter leaned against the edge of his desk and watched her closely. Surprisingly she’d actually sat when he told her to sit. She looked tired, not just physically but emotionally as well. “It was clean, Sam.”
Her scowl was adorable, but he somehow managed not to smile. “I know it was clean. It’s just been a long day.”
“Yeah, it has. You okay?” he asked softly, knowing the past few days hadn’t been easy on her. He hated what she’d been facing. The death of her aunt, that damned shooting, all of it. If he could have protected her from it, he would have.
“Yes.” She took a deep breath and sat up a little straighter. “Just thinking.”
This wasn’t the Pixie Pest he was used to. It unnerved him. He wanted to touch her, make sure she was warm, whole.
“It’s hard, every single time. It never gets easy,” he empathized. “If it’s easy, that’s when you have a problem.”
“I know. It was justifiable.” She shook her head. “Just processing everything. You know?”
“I do know.” And he did. Two tours in Afghanistan saw to that. “Come on, Sam. Let’s go. You need a drink.”
He stood and held out his hand, waiting for her to take it.
“No.” She stood, shaking her head. “I just need to go home and try to get some sleep.”
He seriously doubted she’d rest.
“Bullshit. It’s only six thirty. You’re gonna go back to a dark house full of old memories and brood,” he accused her.
“And what if I do?” she snapped. “I’m not fragile, Hunter. I don’t need coddling. I’m not that child you kept rescuing. Last night I did what I had to do; it was that simple. I’m a goddam badass, and I don’t need you to watch out for me. I’m not your responsibility. We’re square now, back the fuck off.”
He held his tongue and his temper and watched the storm rage in her eyes.
“Okay,” he finally managed through clenched teeth. “Tell me what you need from me.”
To his horror, she looked up at him with golden tears swimming in those wide blue-green eyes. He took a step toward her, and she put up a hand to stop him.
“I don’t need anything.” Her words were just above a whisper. He hand
ed her the box of tissues. She snatched one, wiped her eyes, and took a deep breath.
“Look.” The best thing he could do for her was ignore the tears, or pretend he had. “Let’s go to the Night Hawk. Have dinner and get you a good stiff drink.”
“Hunter, we can’t keep…”
He walked out of the office without giving her a chance to complain anymore. “Shane.” He waved at the deputy to come in.
“Yes, sir?”
He turned to Sam. “Give me your keys.”
“Why?” Sam narrowed her eyes.
“Because if you don’t, Officer Warren here is gonna have to arrest you for driving under the influence.”
Shane did a bad job of covering his smile.
Sam didn’t even try to hide her fury. “The hell he will!”
“Aw, I don’t know, ma’am.” Shane squinted at her. “You’re lookin’ a little woozy, and if I’m not mistaken, your eyes look bloodshot to me.”
Sam’s cheeks flushed as Hunter looked at her with raised brows and a victorious smile.
“Really?” she snarled.
“Hey.” He lifted both hands in surrender, trying hard not to smile. “I gotta keep the streets safe, Ms. Ryder. Just doin’ my job.”
She kept her eyes, glittering with rage and unshed tears, trained on Hunter’s. He crossed his arms, his expression indifferent, which considering how he felt, was no easy task. Relief flooded through him as she reached into her purse and retrieved her keys.
He took them from her and, without breaking eye contact, handed them to Shane. “Can you get Ms. Ryder’s car home for her?”
“Sure can, Sheriff.” The deputy was grinning now. He was enjoying this way too much.
“Thanks,” Hunter said. “You can go. Shut the door behind you.”
“Right.” Shane turned on his heel and did as he was instructed.
Hunter turned to Sam and cupped her cheek.
“Stop touching me.” She wrapped her fingers around his wrist lightly.
“Sam,” he murmured and moved closer. He wanted to hold her. Take away the bad for a little while.
