The Sheriff of Silverhill

by Ericson, Carol

  Where had she learned these exquisite torture techniques?

  She unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly. As she reached to pull down his jeans, he grabbed her hands.

  “Those aren’t going anywhere until these do.” He pointed to the silver tips of his boots. He sat on the bed next to her, crossed an ankle of his leg and tugged at his right boot.

  She settled on the floor in front of him, still fully clothed. He’d have to remedy that…fast. He pulled off his boot and extended his left leg toward her. She tugged off his other boot and slipped off both of his socks.

  “Now that all those impediments are out of the way, let’s get to the main attraction.”

  He choked on his fake indignation as he stood up. “You’ve gotten brazen in your old age, Croft.”

  And it turned him on.

  While she slid his jeans down, her hands skimmed his thighs. Before he even kicked them off his legs, she went for his boxers and yanked those down too. She brushed her fingernails along his length, and he shivered from the sheer effort of refraining from taking her in his arms and devouring her.

  “You’ve gotten…better in your old age, McClintock.”

  He’d show her how much better. Without touching any other part of her body, he kissed her until she became breathless and placed her palms against his bare chest to recover.

  “You must’ve had a lot of experience to learn to kiss like that. While I’m sure my experience is modest compared to yours, I’ve learned a few tricks myself.” Her gaze locked on his and her hands began roaming over his body—skimming, pressing, tweaking, kneading.

  He couldn’t take another second. Capturing her hands, he growled, “Are you finished toying with me?”

  Her eyes widened as she dipped her chin. She kicked off her heels and shrugged out of her suit jacket, and they both scrambled to relieve her of the rest of her clothing.

  Rafe grinned. So much for the slow seduction.

  They fell to the bed together, clasped in an embrace. His body pressed along the curvy lines of hers, still Rafe felt he had to get closer. His fingers tangled in her hair and his lips traced every ridge and hollow of her chin, her neck, the base of her throat. He shaped her breast and circled the nipple with his tongue. Sighing, she arched her back and dug her nails into his scalp.

  “Does that mean you want me to continue?”

  She playfully smacked the top of his head. “If you quit now, I’ll have to jump into the Silverhill Creek stark naked to cool down.”

  “I could probably sell tickets to that.”

  She shoved his head back between her breasts, and he continued his journey down her café au lait skin. When he reached the juncture of her legs, he ran his tongue along her musky sweetness. The breath hissed between her teeth as she clutched the bedspread in white-knuckled fists.

  Reaching her climax, she called out his name over and over and it had never sounded sweeter.

  He didn’t want to delay their ultimate connection any longer. He entered her hard and fast while she still thrashed in the throes of her passion. She clawed at his buttocks, urging him on, whispering her need of him in his ear.

  When he exploded inside her, he quenched a yearning that had lasted for ten long years. As he rode out the last wave of his climax, he kissed her, long and completely…and possessively.

  He rolled onto his side and pulled her back against his chest, resting his chin on her shoulder. He hooked a leg over her hip, not ready to give up what he’d just reclaimed.

  “This is the safest I’ve felt since returning to Silverhill.” She ran her fingertip along his thigh. “You always made me feel safe.”

  “If you always felt safe with me, why’d you leave?”

  Then the bedroom window exploded in a crash.

  Chapter Ten

  Rafe crushed Dana against him for a moment before leaping from the bed. A jagged hole gaped in the window and shattered glass littered the hardwood floor. A large rock lay amid the debris.

  “What is it?” Dana sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest.

  “Someone lobbed a rock through the window.” Rafe crouched at the boundary of the glass and squinted at the rock, which had landed beyond the glow of light from the lamp on the bedside table. He shoved to his feet, pulled on his boxers and grabbed one of his discarded socks.

  “Don’t worry.” He patted Dana’s back, but she was already scrambling for her clothes. “It’s probably some moronic kid.”

  With his hand shoved in the sock, he leaned forward and picked up the rock. Dana’s sharp gasp at his shoulder told him she’d already seen the words crudely printed on the rock.

  Each victim’s name and in the last spot…a question mark.

  Dana’s stomach clenched while she dug her fingernails into Rafe’s shoulder. The killer had been out there with a message for Rafe—a message for her?

  Rafe dropped the rock on the bed and dove for his clothes. “I’m going after him.”

  A bright light flooded the room and an alarm started a rhythmic buzzing. Dana grabbed her blouse, plunging her arms in the sleeves. “What’s that?”

  “The guy must’ve tripped the security system on his way out. We had it installed after Ryder’s little girl was kidnapped from the ranch.” Rafe stuffed his feet inside some running shoes and charged into the living room.

  Avoiding the glass on the floor, Dana followed him. “I’m coming with you.”

  “If he triggered the alarm, he’s either at the big house, which I doubt, or he slipped past the perimeter of the property.” He plucked his gun from the holster hanging over a kitchen chair.

  Dana grabbed her own weapon and, cursing her high heels, ran onto the porch after him. “Which direction?”

  A figure emerged from the shadows of the guesthouse and Dana spun around, leveling her gun at the intruder.

  “What the hell is going on?” Rod, a pair of flannel pajama bottoms hanging low on his hips, his hair sticking up in all directions, emerged with his hands in front of him.

  Rafe jerked his head back. “Someone tossed a rock through my bedroom window.”

  “And that warrants full firepower?”

  “The rock had all the murder victims’ names on it.”

  Rod cursed and then cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted into the darkness, “We need some help here.”

  A couple of men in various stages of undress, Dana assumed ranch hands, jogged forward. Rafe strode off the porch shouting orders.

  “You’re coming with me.” He grabbed her arm, pulling her with him toward the back of the guesthouse.

  “Wait.” She dug her heels into the dirt. “Nobody’s checking across the paddock toward the riding trail.”

  Rafe’s grip tightened. “I want you with me.”

  “I’m an FBI agent with a weapon. Let me do my job.” She twisted out of his grasp and stepped back.

  He matched her a step forward, but then clenched his jaw and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Be careful.”

  “You too.” She unhitched the gate and picked her way across the riding paddock, her heels scraping against the packed earth. The beam from the flashlight Rafe had pressed into her hand traced footprints in the dirt, too numerous to have any significance.

  She froze when she heard leaves crunching at the edge of the paddock, and then she swung her flashlight toward the noise. She crept forward, her gun and flashlight leading the way.

  She peered between the slats of the gate that led to the riding trail beyond and flicked the padlock with her gun. The beam from her flashlight glinted over the barbed wire encircling the top of the gate and the fence. No way the intruder could’ve come from this direction. Nothing cut, breached or compromised.

  Clinging to the gate, she squinted at the first bend in the trail, the darkness just beyond the reach of her flashlight. Twigs snapped and the hair on the back of her neck quivered.

  “Hello?”

  Ridiculous. Would a wild animal respond? Would the ki
ller?

  Something watched her from beyond. Her eyes ached as she scanned the blackness of the trail. Was it her protector again? The wolf?

  How did she even know the wolf was on her side? Hadn’t Auntie Mary’s legends contained stories about evil forces compromising the shaman’s familiars?

  Great time to remember that.

  Keeping her gaze—and gun—pinned to the shadows obscuring the riding trail, Dana backed up one step at a time. She bumped into a solid form behind her. She spun around, screaming and swinging her gun in front of her.

  “Hey!” Rafe knocked her wrist up so that her gun pointed skyward. “What are you doing, Dana? I called you three times as I came across the paddock. I thought you heard me.”

  Dana gulped a second scream and planted her feet on the ground to prevent herself from flinging herself into Rafe’s arms. She’d better snap out of these trances or Rafe would begin to question her sanity, or at least her competency to carry a loaded firearm.

  “I thought I heard something out there.” She pointed her weapon toward the trail beyond the paddock.

  “Let’s check it out.” Rafe pulled a large key chain from his belt loop and asked her to shine her flashlight on it while he searched for a key.

  After a few tries, one of the small keys he selected clicked open the lock on the gate and he pushed it open.

  Dana nestled close to Rafe’s back as he stepped onto the riding path. His flashlight created an arc of yellow, highlighting the ground before them. She held her breath as they approached the turn in the trail. They rounded the corner and the path stretched into darkness once again.

  Dana crouched on the ground and ran her hand along the leaves of a bush, its narrow branches snapped here and there. “What do you think of this?”

  Rafe knelt beside her, fingering the broken twigs. “I don’t see any clear footprints. Could be an animal.”

  That’s what concerned her. Standing up, Dana brushed her hands on her slacks. “Did anyone else find anything?”

  “Not that I know of. You were one of the last to return. You had me worried.”

  “Probably took me longer since I don’t know the property like you and the rest.”

  By the time Dana and Rafe arrived at the big house, lights blazed from every window and a knot of people were crowded on the porch.

  She swallowed hard when she saw Pam, wrapped in a housecoat, clutching her husband’s arm. Dana squared her shoulders. Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not an insecure teenager anymore…and you’ve got a gun.

  When they reached the circle of light, Rafe hooked his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close. “I found her. She heard something outside the paddock, but we didn’t see anything.”

  “Did anyone else find anything suspicious?” She squirmed out of Rafe’s embrace. Bad enough that Rod had caught her at the guesthouse after hours, now Rafe was hugging her in front of the entire family. She dragged in a deep breath and had to remind herself again that those high school days were long gone.

  Rod and the few ranch hands who’d been searching the property hadn’t found any evidence of a break-in or a breach in security.

  No trace of an intruder at the ranch. No witnesses to the theft of Brice’s cell phone. No evidence on the bodies. Were they trying to capture a man or a phantom?

  Dana shivered and hugged herself.

  Rafe ran a hand down her back and then captured her hand, dragging her closer to the assembly in front of the house. “Dad, Pam, you remember Dana Croft, don’t you?”

  Rafe’s father, Ralph, leaned forward and grabbed her other hand and squeezed. “Sure do. How’s Auntie Mary? I don’t see nearly enough of her around town.”

  “She’s doing great.” She glanced at Pam. “How are you, Pam?”

  Pam inched out a tight smile as her gaze raked over Dana, most likely noting her disheveled appearance. “Busy taking care of my family. I understand you’re a highly regarded FBI agent. Congratulations on your success. You seem to have made the right choices in life.”

  Dana clenched her teeth. Keeping Rafe from his daughter had not been the right choice. She knew that now more than ever. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I’ve made my share of mistakes, but I plan to remedy some of those.”

  “You’re lucky.” Pam huddled next to her husband. “Most of us can’t fix the mistakes we’ve made. We just learn from them and move on.”

  “Sometimes you can’t move on until you correct a past folly.”

  With a crease lining his forehead, Rafe had been shifting his gaze back and forth between her and his stepmother. “Does anyone here care that a serial killer sneaked onto the ranch and threw a rock through my window?”

  Pam broke eye contact first, and a buzz of victory fizzed through Dana’s veins. She had Pam on edge. She had the upper hand because she had truth on her side…or she would once she told Rafe about Kelsey.

  “I do.” Rod smacked the railing on the porch. “I paid a lot of money for that security system, and some nut job just strolls onto the ranch and tosses rocks at your window?”

  “How do you know it’s really the killer and not some irate Silverhill citizen who’s angry because you can’t catch this guy? When are you going to do your job and catch this guy?” Ralph draped an arm around his wife’s trembling shoulders.

  Dana couldn’t figure out if Pam’s fear sprang from the break-in at the ranch or Dana’s reappearance in Rafe’s life bearing ten-year-old secrets.

  “Unbelievable.” Rafe dragged a hand through his tangled hair. “Rod’s worried about his precious ranch, and you can’t waste an opportunity to get a dig in about the job I’m doing.”

  “Just do that job, boy, and we’ll all be a lot safer.” Ralph tucked an arm around Pam and led her back into the house.

  Rod lifted his shoulders and followed them inside, slamming the door behind him. The locks clicked into place, but Rod left on all the lights lining the front drive along with the ones lighting the path to the guesthouse.

  Rafe turned his back on the house, shoving his hands in his pockets and hunching his shoulders. “That’s my loving family for you.”

  “M-maybe you should take me back to my car in town.” Dana jerked her thumb over her shoulder.

  “I’m not up for a drive, and I sure as hell don’t want you heading back to the reservation.” He grinned. “It’s too late now, anyway. I’m sure my family already figured out we weren’t poring over case files when the rock sailed through the window.”

  “Maybe we should pore over case files. There’s no way I’m going to fall asleep tonight.”

  “I’m going to bag that rock as evidence and get it dusted for prints tomorrow. In the meantime, I have a better plan than sleep.” He laced his fingers through hers and tugged her toward the path leading to the guesthouse.

  Resting her head on his shoulder, Dana sighed. She’d been on a roller coaster of emotions today, but sharing a meal…and a bed with Rafe had eased the stresses of the day and had even made them bearable.

  Now she just wanted back in his arms where she belonged because once he found out about Kelsey, he might never offer again.

  “I’M NOT GOING TO LIE TO YOU, Rafe. This meeting in Denver is about sending a full FBI task force down here if we don’t make progress soon.” Steve scratched his chin as Rafe, Emmett and Dana all stared at the rock in the center of the conference table, willing it to give them more information than the victims’ crudely printed names.

  Dana slanted a gaze toward Rafe and his tight jaw. First his father had accused him of incompetence and now the FBI planned to swoop in and take over the case. He’d hate that. As the youngest McClintock brother, Rafe had always been the charmer, the lightweight of the family. But Dana knew he’d worked hard to dispel that image. The people of Silverhill trusted him as their sheriff. If he failed now, would he lose that hard-earned trust?

  “We still need to talk to Patrick Rainwater.” She rolled the disappointing rock back into its evidence bag. No
fingerprints. Crude block letters written with a common felt-tip pen. No evidence left at the ranch. Nothing. “The fact that Alicia was pregnant changes a few pieces of this puzzle.”

  “Can you and Rafe take care of that?” Emmett wagged his finger between the two of them. “I know his parents too well. He’d never open up with me there.”

  Dana bit her lip. Steve didn’t need to hear that piece of information either—more ammunition for bringing in the task force. “We’ll handle Patrick. What time is your flight, Steve? Can we give you a lift to the airport?”

  Steve checked his watch. “My flight’s soon, and yeah, I need a ride.”

  After Dana and Rafe drove Steve to the airport in Durango, they headed for the reservation to talk to Patrick. He lived with his parents while he commuted to Fort Lewis College in Durango, but they’d called ahead to make sure they could meet him this afternoon. Dana figured he’d be glad his parents were at work.

  They pulled up to the neat stucco house, and Patrick emerged onto the porch to intercept them, his eyes worried behind glasses. “My mom’s home from work. Can we talk out here?”

  Patrick led them to the corner of the yard, edged with a garden of flowers and two wrought-iron benches, and safely out of his mother’s earshot.

  Dana settled on the uncomfortable bench and pointed across the street at the rust-colored adobe building. “Are you going to mind being so close to the cultural center when it opens?”

  “Huh?” Patrick had removed his glasses and was wiping them with his shirt. “The cultural center? No, I don’t mind it so close. I helped Ben with the layout of some of the items. I’m doing my minor in Native American studies at Fort Lewis.”

  “Why don’t you have a seat, Patrick?” Dana patted the bench beside her as Rafe tipped his hat over his eyes.

  Patrick licked his lips, his eyes flicking to Rafe. “I’m good where I am.”