by Taylor Lee
Forcing the troubling memory to the back of her mind, Tanya responded to her sister. “You know we’re investigating the horrible murder of that lovely teenager, Violeta Acedo. It’s so ugly, Tara. What someone or a group of someones did to that poor girl is not to be believed.” She gave an involuntary shudder and added, “Dad isn’t happy with me. He thinks I’m antagonizing the wrong people.” Giving a dismissive shrug, she conceded, “Maybe I am, but so help me God, Tara, I’m going to run that murderer or murderers to the ground if it’s the last thing I do.”
Tara frowned. “I know you can’t reveal any details of the investigation at this point.” She added with a slight smile, “Particularly to the editor of the Sierra Vista Gazette.” When Tanya just nodded, Tara continued. “But if I know you, and I do, Dad has reason to be concerned. You are an incredible law enforcement, professional but careless as heck about your own safety. I’m not going to push you for details, but please, Tanya, be careful. You and I know there are some very dangerous men lurking in this little burg of ours.”
Deciding to change the subject to one that concerned them both, she said, “Speaking of dangerous men, not to mention complete assholes, are you as concerned about Tatiana as I am? We both know that Arnold ‘the loser’ Loomis ranks right up there with the guys I’m investigating for the Acedo murder. Granted, the ex-husband of our beautiful sister hasn’t killed anyone yet, but we both know he is more than capable of abuse—both verbal and physical.” Shaking her head, she appealed to her older sister. “Dammit, Tara, what took Tatiana so long to finalize their divorce? I just don’t get it. Tatiana is so strong, so accomplished in every other facet of her life. For God’s sake, she runs a women’s shelter for abused women. But in the single most important area, that of her pride and her safety, she pulls back.”
Tara emitted a concerned sigh. “As hard as it is for both of us to watch, we know how challenging it is even for women as strong as we are and Tatiana is to break out of an unhealthy relationship. It’s almost as if because she’s so close to the issues that she can’t see how she plays a role. Even though he finally agreed to a divorce, being the asshole that he is, Arnie fought her on every front, from custody of Marcie and Max to money. You’re not going to believe this, but Tatiana told me yesterday that disgusting man is trying to get the court to re-look at their divorce decree. He’s claiming that because Tatiana makes more money than he does and he has the kiddies every other weekend that the court should award him spousal maintenance and child support.”
Tanya sputtered, “You mean because the lazy SOB refuses to get a full-time job and has gambled away whatever savings they had, she’s supposed to pay him support? Please tell me no court will make that happen.”
“We both know that he is trying to convince her how much he loves her and that they belong together, no matter what the court said. The problem is that he is finally realizing that Tatiana was determined to divorce him and will never go back to him. I pray to God that she sees all of his threats as a way to keep her tethered. Unfortunately, in abusive relationships like theirs, it’s difficult for even the stronger partner to make the final break. Honestly, Tanya, if it weren’t for the fact that Tatiana was determined to get her children out of there, I’m not sure she would have had the courage to leave.”
Tanya intoned bitterly, “Or that the asshole would let her.” Glaring at her sister, Tanya laid down her marker. “That’s why it is critical that we both keep on her. She needs to know we support her and that the divorce is final, period.”
Tara sighed in agreement, and knowing how Tatiana’s relationship upset them both, Tanya made a determined effort to change the subject. Forcing a smile to curve her lips, she said, “Speaking of Dad’s non-existent love life and Tatiana’s unhealthy one, what the heck is going on in the beautiful Sierra Vista Gazette editor’s love life? C’mon, sis, fess up. There is no way that a babe like you isn’t being chased by every eligible guy in town.”
Tara laughed. “I would like to think that all those people hounding me are my fans. Unfortunately, the ones after me are subscribers threatening to cancel their newspaper if the publisher doesn’t do something about his rabble-rousing editor.” Her smile broadened to a satisfied grin. “Fortunately, Hank Richardson, as crotchety as he is, is almost as much of a crusader as I am, which make him the perfect owner of the Gazette.” Taking a sip of her wine, she winked at her sister. “No, Tanya, of all the Trouble sisters and our father, you are the only one that has crossed the divide from singlehood to gooey togetherness.”
Tanya managed to smother a groan but knew that her negative reaction wasn’t lost on her perceptive sister when Tara persisted, “Although, Deputy Trouble, as little as I see you and Bram together, I’m beginning to think you may be having second thoughts about giving up the single life.”
Tanya was as startled as she was sure her sister was when she blurted, “Bram is such a stupid name!” Seeing Tara’s raised eyebrow, she continued, “I mean, really. Who but the Courtlands would name a kid Bramford?”
“Hmm, perhaps a father whose name is Preston Sawyer Courtland . . . the third?”
Seeing her sister’s stealthy grin, Tanya gave in to the humor of the situation. With a grin of her own, she said, “You’re right. It could be worse. They might have named him Aubrey or Auden.”
Tara chimed in with a giggle, “Or Sebastian, or Fenston, or maybe Barclay.”
“God, you’re right, big sis. Maybe Bramford isn’t the only pretentious name they could have come up with, but you have to admit, it definitely ranks in the top five.”
When they both laughed out loud, Tanya felt a little of the tension she hadn’t known she was feeling release. Glancing at Tara, she conceded that it was hard to put anything over on her sister who’d always been able to see through her. She only had to wait for a moment before Tara upped the ante as Tanya had known she would.
Glancing at Tanya’s hand, her sister raised a questioning brow. “Not to belabor the point, Tanya my love, but I can’t remember the last time I saw that multi-thousand dollar ring on your finger.”
Tanya gave a dismissive shrug. “It just looks weird with my uniform.” Glancing down at her jeans and tee shirt, she tried to explain. “God, sis, this is what I wear ninety-five percent of the time. You have to agree the ring looks out of place . . . ostentatious.”
Tara nodded sagaciously, then said carefully, “Ostentatious? Hmm. Kind of like your fiancé’s name?”
Tanya blew out a hard sigh and nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Kinda like that.”
****
Driving down the dark road, Tanya startled upon seeing a tall figure loping along the side of the highway. For a moment, she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. In seconds, her racing heart confirmed that it wasn’t her imagination. The tight-assed guy in butt-hugging jeans with the black Stetson low over his eyes was none other than Flint Burke. It was bad enough that she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the brash man. She’d convinced herself that the reason he was so much on her mind was the way he’d taken down Manny. She’d seen impressive martial artists and hardcore MMA masters before. But none more skilled than her white knight—as her father had dubbed him.
From the unwelcome memories plaguing her throughout the day, Tanya had finally acknowledged that his fighting skills weren’t what bothered her most about the compelling man. No, it was the way he’d sidled up next to her and carelessly looked her over, letting his wanton eyes rest salaciously on one part of her body after another. His sly smile and twinkling eyes confirmed he knew exactly what his arrogant perusal was doing to her.
Grabbing a lungful of air, Tanya went into cop mode. What the hell was this guy doing hiking along the deserted road in the middle of the night? Knowing he was anything but the unassuming ranch hand he pretended to be, she decided that it was time to unmask the cocky stranger. She pulled up next to him, yanking her squad car to a squealing stop. Jumping out of her black and white, she rounded the cruiser a
nd stepped in front of him. Resting her hand on her holster, she looked up at him, trying to ignore the fact that he had at least eight inches on her even though her leather boots gave her a couple of added inches. Glad that her voice didn’t quaver, she sneered. “Well, well, if it isn’t Captain America. Done playing with the kiddies and heading into town to check out the fresh meat at Sadie’s? By the way, that’s one of the problems with shagging high school girls. A lot of them have curfews.”
His chuckle was all the more unnerving because of the unwanted shivers it sent up her spine. Tipping back his hat, Burke smiled at her. “I thought I made it clear earlier today, Deputy Trouble. Young girls—jailbait as you call them—don’t turn my crank.” Looking her up and down, he added, “Now, uppity, mouthy women who know how to fill out a pair of blue jeans? Mm-hmm. That’s a different story.”
Shocked at the heat sparking her nether regions, Tanya surprised herself when she snapped, “Stuff it, hotshot. How about you turn your cocky ass around and put your hands up on the top of my cruiser?”
Burke studied her for a long moment through narrowed eyes, then shrugged and turned toward the squad. Looking over his shoulder, he shot her an amused grin. “Why, Deputy Trouble, are you aiming to frisk me?”
Certain he could hear her heart banging against her chest, Tanya barked, “That’s exactly what I’m going to do, asshole.” Shoving at him, she muttered, “Hands up, big guy.” Sucking in a deep breath, she kicked at one, then the other of his boots. “While you’re at it, hotshot, spread ’em.” Leaning over, she smacked his butt. “So I can get at you here.”
Chapter 8
Fuck,” Ryker Thompson muttered to himself. Talk about a dicey situation. Knowing that the chances of maintaining his cover were seriously at risk, he wasn’t surprised that his overriding thought was that the feisty deputy was about to get the surprise of a lifetime. And learning his identity wouldn’t be what shocked her. He thought with a silent chuckle as he leaned over the squad car, putting his backside in range of her intended pat-down, it wasn’t his weapons that were most at risk of discovery. Hell no. It was his raging arousal that was likely to jolt the impertinent copper. It damn well better given that he couldn’t remember the last time his cock responded to a woman as flagrantly as his was to the diminutive Deputy Trouble.
He consoled himself. What could a guy do? Tell me one man with an iota of testosterone who wouldn’t react to the flushed deputy who had not only said that hell yes, she intended to frisk him but had kicked at his feet and told him in no uncertain terms to “spread ’em.” That was after she’d drawn herself up to her full height and glared at him, daring him to disobey.
Feeling the deputy’s tentative pats, Ryker lifted his ass, ensuring that she couldn’t miss it. He decided he may as well have fun with the little hoyden while he was figuring out how he was going to get out of this mess. When she squatted down and began to run her hands up one leg, getting close to the site of his not-so-buried treasure, he drawled, “Careful, sweetheart. Depending on what you’re looking for, you might find more than you expected.” When she pulled back, he laughed. “Or can we assume you just found more than you’re accustomed to finding?”
Tanya barely managed to keep from falling over backwards. Fighting to regain her balance, she acknowledged that she’d walked right into the arrogant man’s trap. She’d been thrilled when she’d taken charge of the situation. She’d not only confronted the cocky man but she’d treated him like his piece-of-shit buddies, not the prepossessing stranger that had invaded her thoughts and churned up her hormones. Granted, her heart was beating three times as fast as it usually did and breathing was a concern. But dammit, she’d looked the cocky asshole in the eye and said yes, frisking him was precisely what she intended to do.
That was before he turned his back to her, then winked at her over his shoulder. Unnerving as that saucy twinkle was, it was nothing compared to the shock she felt as she moved in on him. It wasn’t just the sight of his tight butt or the feel of his muscular thighs beneath her probing hands that had her struggling for air. More than anything, it was his scent. The aroma that had caught her off guard when he’d taken her on this morning was back in full force. God, how could she not be overcome? The perps she was accustomed to frisking smelled like a shower was a once-a-fortnight occasion, if that. Gross didn’t begin to describe them. And then there was Bramford, her preppy fiancé. She’d decided he was so sparkly clean that he must bathe at least three times a day. Certainly his snow-white, professionally manicured hands didn’t sport so much as an errant cuticle. But the cowboy she was feeling up, in addition to exuding expensive cologne, had a unique masculine smell. It was strong but subtle, like the earth . . . and the man.
Tanya was just coming to grips with her reaction to the sight and smell of him when her hands strayed to his crotch. Totally unprepared for the significant bulge she felt throbbing against his tight jeans, she fell back. His low chuckle and insinuating question as to whether she had found what she was looking for almost took her down. Only her pride and years of confronting dangerous men kept her from conceding she’d more than met her match. Leaping to her feet, she grasped his shoulders as much to steady herself as to frisk him. She had begun running her hands over his torso when she hit pay dirt. She was grateful when her brazen angels that had made her the scourge of perps everywhere finally asserted themselves. Slipping her hand under his leather jacket, to her surprise, she felt forged steel. Her knowledgeable fingers traced the trigger guard and beaver tail grip, confirming that her sexy cowboy had a Glock 43 pistol shoved in the waistband of his jeans.
Jerking the high-end pistol from his back holster, she crowed, “Well, well, well. What have we here? Silly me. I always thought Captain America carried a Colt M19? Mmm, guess you’re trying to update your Avenger image, right, Burke? Not that a Glock 43 is anything to be ashamed of. It’s my father’s favorite pistol. Just not the expected firearm for a ne’er-do-well, wanna-be white supremacist.”
When he merely quirked a nonchalant brow, she glared at him. Coming close to regaining her composure after nearly caving into his omnipresence, she taunted him. “Please tell me that among your other accoutrements you happen to have a concealed carry permit? Never mind. We’ll deal with that little requirement at the precinct. Meantime, I’m sure you won’t mind if I check on a few other places for additional weapons.”
Standing in front of him, she put her hands inside his jacket, feeling for an underarm rig or side holster. Finding none, she sank to her knees, certain she would find an ankle grip. Discovering a compact Beretta Nano tucked inside his leather ankle holster, she was gratified that her instincts were on target. Not wanting to admit it, Tanya didn’t know why she was caught off guard. Everyone who lived in these parts carried a piece or two. It was just that Burke’s weapons were unexpected. Definitely more expensive and more professional than the ones his loser buddies shoved in their jeans. She didn’t know why she was surprised. She’d known from the first time she’d met the imposing stud that there was more to him than his summer sky eyes and sexy grin.
Once again caught off guard by his compelling scent and muscular closeness, she stepped back. Not able to keep from glancing at the front of his jeans, she started at the sight of his burgeoning arousal. She knew he saw her shocked expression and was laughing at her, certain that she’d not only seen his arousal but felt it. Hanging onto his arms, she fought to keep her balance. Knowing that she would slit her wrists rather than give in to this arrogant hustler, she shoved him away from her.
Forcing herself to meet his gaze, she wasn’t surprised to see the fire blazing in his startling eyes or to see his lip quirk up. Giving a nonchalant shrug, he drawled, “Yep, it’s still there, Deputy Trouble.” He added in a silky tone, “See what you do to me?”
Determined to get control of her wildly out-of-control emotions, she glared at him. Reaching for her cuffs, she said as firmly as she could, “Turn around, asshole. Put your hands behind your ba
ck.” Relieved when he did as she demanded, Tanya quickly snapped the cuffs in place, then reached for the rear door of her squad. Putting one hand on his head and another on his back, she shoved him into the backseat. She admitted that if he’d wanted to resist, there was no way that she could have forced his six-foot-three muscular frame into the cruiser unless he’d let her. He was just too damn big.
Grateful for the steel mesh grate and bulletproof glass separating the front seat from the prisoner in the back, Tanya hit the gas, roaring onto the highway. Even though it was superfluous, silly actually, she cranked the sirens and lights on high. Taking the first full breath of air in what seemed like a lifetime, she sped toward town and the safety of the sheriff’s office.
As she roared to a stop in front of the station, Gunnar Sorenson rushed out to meet her. Quieting the lights and sirens, she hopped out of the cruiser. Gunnar was at her side in seconds.
“Damn, Tanya, you got here just in time. I’ve been trying to reach you. Been calling all over hell and back. You weren’t answering your cell. We’ve got a serious issue outside of Douglas. Lieutenant Ralph Mason called, frantic. They need help. A couple of Smokey Bears were chasing a suspicious looking van down Highway 90. At the turnoff to Highway 80, the van overturned. Apparently, it was overloaded with illegals and coyotes. Certain injuries, possible fatalities. Four of our guys are on their way along with the sheriff.”
As if seeing her passenger for the first time, Gunnar craned his neck to see inside and stepped back in surprise. “What the fuckin’ hell, Tanya? You got a perp in there?” Yanking at the door, he glanced inside, then jumped back in surprise. Turning on Tanya, he asked wide-eyed, “Damn, Deputy. Isn’t that Flint Burke? What the hell happened?”
