From hunting cattle rustlers
To being hunted by a killer
Investigating cattle rustlers seems like a typical day on the job for Deputy Sheriff Casey Colton. But when ranch hand Melody Hayworth insists on working the case with him, he’s reluctant to involve a civilian. Fighting their growing bond while tracking lawbreakers proves no easy task. And as Casey and Melody stumble across a corpse, they’re caught in a criminal’s crosshairs. The deputy’s new mission? Protect Melody and find the killer before it’s too late.
Holding the reins more loosely, she looked at the screen and swiped it.
“We’re almost there,” she said. “Let’s head a little to our right. Whatever’s causing the dot to appear in my GPS tracker is just over that hill.” She pointed somewhat ahead but unsurprisingly toward their right.
“No further indication of what it is?” Casey had to ask, even knowing that greater detail, even close by, was highly unlikely on a GPS map.
“Nope, though it’s likely to be a cow—or just the GPS tag that’s somehow been taken off. We’ll find out soon.”
And they did. The result clearly upset Melody. A lot.
For as soon as their horses walked over the small ridge nearest the dot’s location and they could see the grass-covered part of the hillside beyond, the cow that was wearing the tag was visible.
Lying there on the ground.
Clearly dead.
* * *
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Dear Reader,
This is my first book in the Colton series, but it won’t be my last. I’m excited to join the many wonderful authors who have contributed to the Colton books.
Colton 911: Caught in the Crossfire is the first of two books featuring the Coltons of Cactus Creek. In this book, Deputy Sheriff Casey Colton is directed by his boss, the sheriff, to help find a dozen highly valuable cattle stolen from OverHerd Ranch owned by the town selectman. Lovely ranch hand Melody Hayworth shows him where the fence was damaged to let the cattle out on the range. Together, on horseback, they follow the rustled cattle’s trail for several days. Both of them have a job to do—save the missing cattle. Both have recently been involved in bad relationships, so surely nothing will come of their togetherness...or will it?
I hope you enjoy Colton 911: Caught in the Crossfire. Please come visit me at my website, killerhobbies.blogspot.com. And, yes, I’m on Facebook, too.
Linda O. Johnston
COLTON 911: CAUGHT IN THE CROSSFIRE
Linda O. Johnston
Linda O. Johnston loves to write. While honing her writing skills, she worked in advertising and public relations, then became a lawyer...and enjoyed writing contracts. Linda’s first published fiction appeared in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine and won a Robert L. Fish Memorial Award for Best First Mystery Short Story of the Year. Linda now spends most of her time creating memorable tales of paranormal romance, romantic suspense and mystery. Visit her on the web at www.lindaojohnston.com.
Books by Linda O. Johnston
Harlequin Romantic Suspense
Colton 911
Colton 911: Caught in the Crossfire
K-9 Ranch Rescue
Second Chance Soldier
Trained to Protect
Undercover Soldier
Covert Attraction
Harlequin Nocturne
Alpha Force
Alpha Wolf
Alaskan Wolf
Guardian Wolf
Undercover Wolf
Loyal Wolf
Canadian Wolf
Protector Wolf
Back to Life
Visit the Author Profile page at
Harlequin.com for more titles.
To my wonderful husband, Fred. Of course.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Excerpt from Cavanaugh Stakeout by Marie Ferrarella
Chapter 1
Casey Colton dashed up the large stairway from the first floor of the sheriff’s department building in Sur County, Arizona. As deputy sheriff, he was used to taking orders, but the curt phone call he’d just received from his boss, Jeremy Krester, was more of a command. Jeremy was usually fairly laid-back, so that worried Casey.
“Hi, Bob,” he said as he entered Jeremy’s outer office, not stopping behind the desk stacked with folders but swerving around toward the door behind it.
Apparently Bob Andrews, a fellow deputy, had been informed of his pending presence. “Go on in,” said the young, wide-eyed guy, who was wearing a beige uniform that matched the one Casey wore. “Sheriff Krester’s expecting you.”
As Casey knew well.
He reached out, turned the doorknob and hurried inside. And stopped near the doorway. Sheriff Krester wasn’t alone.
Of course, Casey had expected to see his tall, thin, gray-haired boss sitting at the desk facing the door of the sizable office. He wore a similar uniform to Casey’s, too, but with a lot more decorations than the normal colorful shoulder patches of the Sur County Sheriff’s Department. And his badge was even more prominently displayed on his chest.
But the other guy? That was a surprise.
So was the fact that he paced the wood floor and only stopped for an instant as Casey entered, barely maneuvering around him before continuing.
It was Clarence Edison, the town selectman of Cactus Creek. He was dressed in a suit, as he usually was, and was all business.
In his late sixties, Clarence hadn’t gone completely gray but still had more darkness in his hair than Jeremy. He’d been a selectman for many years, but he was known just as much—maybe even more—for owning the successful OverHerd Ranch, outside of town, where he raised Angus cattle. Casey had only seen the large ranch when driving by it.
And, yes, its name—OverHerd—was intended to be a pun, he’d been informed. Not that he was surprised. The selectman was a kidder, someone who liked keeping things light. Casey had noted some of that, too, when he’d attended city meetings, where Clarence got people laughing at times—possibly to make other government officials or even local citizens lighten up. And, therefore, do things his way.
Casey had met Clarence now and then at various town events when the sheriff’s department helped to keep things civil and in order. He seemed like a nice guy. He was smart and enjoyed being in charge and talking to large groups, even having fun with them.
But what was he doing here now? And why was he pacing that way?
“Sit down,” Jeremy ordered Casey as he waved at one of the three chairs facing his cluttered desk. Jeremy also glanced at Clarence, but his expression toward the selectman appeared to be more of a suggestion than a command.
Casey obeyed as he eyed his boss without looking at the town elder. His curiosity increased even more but he couldn’t push things. Not with these two men,
who were both used to being in charge.
But it didn’t take long for Clarence to start talking even as he did deign to take a seat, and then turned his chair to face Casey.
“Need your help, Deputy,” Clarence growled in a low voice Casey hadn’t heard before, his blue eyes intense. “I understand you helped catch a cattle rustler a couple months ago.”
Was that what this was about? But what had Jeremy told him? “That’s right, although it wasn’t a big deal. There were only a few cattle involved—one bull and two cows. And it turned out it was a family-feud kind of situation.”
Noting some movement from the corner of his eye, Casey turned and saw Jeremy making a slight throat-cutting gesture—in other words, he was telling Casey to shut up about that event.
“Ahh,” Jeremy said with a clearly forced smile on his narrow face. “Our deputy there is being a bit modest. Yes, it did turn out to be a family problem, but the members whose cattle disappeared didn’t know that at first, and neither did we. Casey figured it out—and found the missing cattle. There were some charges brought against the thieving relatives but they talked it through and paid for some of our time and...well, it’s all resolved now, and they’re back to being okay.”
“Okay,” Clarence repeated. He, too, had turned to face the sheriff. “You won’t find anything similar in my situation, though.”
“No,” Jeremy said. “There’s a lot more involved. Why don’t you tell Deputy Colton about it?” He nodded to the selectman, then looked back at Casey.
He was right, Casey thought as Clarence filled him in. This situation didn’t sound nearly as simple as the one Casey had helped with before. For one thing, it involved the disappearance of a dozen cows, not just three. And they were Angus cows being used to procreate, to increase the number of cattle at the ranch and for sale to other ranches.
Very valuable Angus cows. Each was worth thousands of dollars.
No wonder Clarence was upset.
“I want you to act quickly,” he continued. “One good thing is that I’ve had all the cattle tagged with GPS, but the terrain doesn’t work for cars, and helicopters or planes couldn’t land there. Seeing anything like that could cause the rustlers to kill the cattle and run, anyway. Even drones could scare them into doing something bad. They seem to be on the move so we can’t pinpoint where they are for you to send a whole team in to get them. Not yet, at least. And—”
Casey heard a buzzing sound. Clarence pulled a phone out of his pocket and looked at it, then listened.
After a minute he said, “Damn. I need to head back to my office right now for an important meeting. I want someone from here who knows what he’s doing to get to my ranch right away. A couple of ranch hands are there and can show you around and explain what happened and when.” He stood and began pacing between Casey and his superior’s desk again. He looked at Casey. “Since you’ve solved one rustling case lately, even though it’s not quite the same thing, I agree with Sheriff Krester that it makes sense for you to go and scope things out. Maybe even solve it on the spot.” His grin toward Casey was wide, though his eyes narrowed and remained skeptical.
Casey asked, “Any people you think might be the rustlers—family members or not?”
“Not,” Clarence said strongly. “I trust my family—but that didn’t stop me from notifying the local members by phone and listening to their shock and sympathy. And analyzing it. I’ve no reason to suspect any of them. Besides...”
He paused, looked from Casey toward the sheriff, then back again.
“Besides what?” Jeremy prompted, as Casey believed was appropriate, considering the way Clarence had spoken and looked at him.
“Besides, the dozen cattle of mine that were stolen were all very valuable females. Cows.” He paused. “So that tells me that whoever did it was one hell of a coward.” All three of them laughed at the emphasis he placed on the first syllable—briefly and not particularly hilariously.
“Well, let me at him. Or her.” Casey stood directly in front of the selectman. “I won’t allow whoever it is to cow me. I’ll do my damnedest to figure this out soon and get your cattle back.”
* * *
Melody Hayworth pulled opened the front door of the main house of OverHerd Ranch before the doorbell finished chiming.
She’d been waiting inside uncomfortably, along with Pierce Tostig, one of the other ranch hands, since their boss had called half an hour ago.
It was midafternoon. Earlier, a couple of the other hands had headed out toward the pasture where one of the herds of special, valuable Angus cattle had supposedly spent the night and morning, as usual...but they hadn’t found them there. Using the GPS apps on their phones, they’d confirmed that the geotagged cows were now far away, somewhere still on the ranch, but heading toward its outer edges. It appeared that the fence had been partly destroyed, apparently by rustlers, and the cows had gotten out. Those hands had called Clarence, who’d expressed concern not only about the missing stock, but also about those that remained. He’d insisted that all of the ranch hands—or at least most of them—find and protect the rest.
He’d also said he’d get the authorities involved, and then ordered that a couple of employees—Pierce Tostig and Melody—should stick around to help and advise the sheriff’s department when someone from there arrived at the ranch, then stay involved in finding those missing cattle.
Now, Melody said “Please come in” to the man in uniform who stood there—a deputy sheriff, according to the patch on his upper left sleeve.
“Thanks.” He immediately held out his hand for a shake after she shut the door. “I’m Deputy Casey Colton,” he said. “I was sent here by Selectman Clarence Edison because—”
“Because some of our—his—cattle have been rustled,” Melody interrupted. She had no need to wait for any further introductions, but she noticed that his grip was strong and somehow sexy, which was irrelevant. Her boss had made it clear in his phone call that she and the others were to give the deputy who showed up all the information they had about the rustling situation. And to show him where the cattle had been located, and how they’d apparently gotten out...with help.
“Let’s go in here first,” she said to Deputy Colton, gesturing for him to follow her through the attractively decorated wooden entryway into the adjoining living room. Melody considered the decor a bit overdone, but it worked well for a ranch house owned by someone as revered—and rich—as her boss.
She watched the deputy’s face as he looked around. The guy was good-looking, and not just because he wore that uniform. His hair was brown and cut relatively short. His matching eyebrows over dazzling blue eyes were nicely arched and his chin was slightly prominent. He had some light facial hair, maybe surprising because of his job. But it looked good on him.
In fact, every part of his appearance was eye-catching—and Melody could have kicked herself for even noticing.
The only thing important about this guy was whether he could find the missing cattle.
For now, his boots rapped on the portion of the wooden floor not covered by an antique gold-and-brown area rug. The deputy approached Pierce, who stood near one of the windows at the far side of the room beside the stone fireplace.
Heading toward them, Pierce was dressed even more casually than Melody’s typical blue denim work shirt, jeans and black boots with tight laces. He wore an oversize, short-sleeved white T-shirt and overly faded jeans—fashionable, perhaps, but it seemed as if there were more holes than denim.
“Hi,” the deputy said, stopping near the side of the ornate brown leather sofa set that dominated the room’s seating arrangement. He introduced himself to Pierce, as he’d done with Melody, and was clearly taking charge of this meeting. “Can we sit down? I want to hear everything about the missing cattle—where they were, who discovered they were gone. Everything.”
“Yeah, I figured.” Pierce p
lopped down on one of the two-seater portions of the sofa set. Ears protruded from wavy hair clipped close on the sides of his head. He was around forty, like Melody, and was clean-shaven with blue eyes. Pierce was okay-looking and mostly genial, but perhaps not as hard a worker as he should be.
Melody took a seat on the similar sofa section, while the deputy sat on the larger one and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He looked toward her as if encouraging her to begin the description.
But Pierce took over. Pointing toward the rear of the house, he described the five-hundred-acre ranch and about how many cattle there were—quite a few more than those that were stolen, fortunately. “Our main range is out that way. It’s divided into sections because of the terrain. Dry sand in some areas, grass and higher growth in others, lots of hillsides, small mountains, all that kind of thing.”
“Interesting,” the deputy said. “I’ll want to see it soon, or as much of it as possible. Now, tell me more about who discovered the problem and how.”
Again he looked toward Melody. Pierce attempted to answer, never mind that Deputy Colton seemed to be addressing her. But as much as she liked Pierce and the way he mostly helped her learn about this ranch, Melody disliked being ignored. She spoke up, talking over Pierce.
“As it turns out, I probably should have been the one to discover the problem, but I wasn’t.” She described how she and some ranch hands, including Pierce, resided in apartments in the bunkhouse behind this house and slightly west of the stables. The fenced-in ranch land began behind them, and the several herds of cattle ranged in different fenced areas within it.
Last night, she hadn’t slept well, although she wasn’t sure why. “Now, though, I believe I might have heard something in the distance while asleep that disturbed me, though I didn’t fully awaken.”
“I’ll want to see the location of your residences, particularly yours,” the lawman said.
“Of course, Deputy Colton.” From what she’d learned, the name Colton was an important one in many areas. Whether or not he was a lawman, though, she didn’t particularly like his knowing where she lived.
Colton 911: Caught In The Crossfire (Book 5) Page 1