Then why did she have the illogical urge to feel his arms around her?
“Thanks,” she said. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”
Before she could entertain any more bizarre thoughts, she pulled her hand from his and hurried away.
Once in her room, she found the Tylenol, took two capsules and went to bed. When her head hit the pillow, she fell instantly asleep, but a homicidal Santa in a black pickup pursued her through her dreams.
ROSS ALWAYS ENJOYED weekend mornings. Ever since he could remember, Fiona had made them special by having Chang Soo serve spectacular breakfasts in the solarium. The two-story-high glass-enclosed addition on the southeast side of the house had been built especially for her by his grandfather. Over the years, Fiona had filled it with plants, including palms and Australian tree ferns that now towered overhead, filtering the bright early-morning light.
Fiona and Courtney were still asleep, as was their custom. Neither of the women in his life was an early riser, so Ross could enjoy the solitude of the winter morning. With a mug of strong coffee on the table in front of him, he ignored Fiona’s daily copy of the New York Times to concentrate on the problems at hand.
Despite the fact that his department had caught yesterday’s bank robber almost instantly, Ross felt little satisfaction from the arrest. His gut told him the man was somehow connected with SCOFF, but he needed hard evidence to tie him to the covert militant militia group hiding in their midst and wreaking havoc on the county. The voters had expressed no reservations about his competence as sheriff, but he was beginning to wonder about himself. Had he missed some vital clue? Had he done everything he could?
“Wow!”
Jessica’s exclamation of surprise pulled him from his self-doubts. He looked up to find her standing in the entrance to the solarium, her astonishment at Fiona’s favorite retreat clearly visible. Dressed in forest-green slacks with a matching jacket and a cream-colored turtleneck sweater that set off her stunning auburn hair, she could have been dining at Tavern on the Green in Central Park instead of a Montana ranch. He cast a dubious glance at her matching leather high-heeled pumps and wondered whether she had packed boots fit for riding.
“Good morning,” he said.
She crossed the room toward the table tucked against the glass and craned her neck to take in the greenery that surrounded them. “This is unbelievable.”
He couldn’t help noticing her slight limp and a small bruise, barely concealed by makeup, on her cheekbone. He wondered what other aftereffects she had suffered from her accident. He decided that touring the ranch on horseback today was a bad idea in her present condition, especially if she hadn’t been riding in a while. She probably had more than enough sore muscles already.
“Fiona’s the one with the green thumb.” Ross stood and pulled out a chair next to him. “She’s worked miracles in here. Coffee?”
“Thanks.” Jessica sat and gazed past him through the glass to the south lawn, where snowdrifts, sparkling in the sun, obscured the remnants of Fiona’s summer garden.
He filled Jessica a mug from the carafe at the sideboard, topped off his own and took his seat. “You’re up early.”
“Habit,” she confessed. Violet smudges were barely visible beneath her eyes, suggesting she hadn’t slept well. Ross wasn’t surprised. After the day she’d had yesterday, he doubted she’d slept at all.
“We don’t have to work on my office this morning, if you’d rather rest—”
“I’d rather work.” Her tension was evident, from the set of her jaw, to the tight muscles of her neck where a tiny vein pulsed, momentarily distracting him.
“Don’t you ever relax?” He forced his attention away from the blood pounding beneath the smoothness of her skin.
She sipped her coffee and nodded in approval of Chang Soo’s special blend. “I’ll spend three weeks in St. Thomas when I’m through here.”
“Another assignment?” Jessica was a workaholic if he’d ever seen one.
She surprised him by shaking her head. “Vacation.”
“When was your last one?” Maybe it was the lawman in him, but he couldn’t help asking questions. He wanted to find out all he could about the woman who’d be spending the next month in his house.
Her face puckered in a frown. “I can’t remember.”
“Then you’re working too hard.”
She threw him a challenging stare. “When was your last vacation?”
“Over a year ago, right before my wife died.”
She glanced away, a pink flush staining her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s a good memory,” Ross said, trying to ease her discomfort. “Fiona took Kathy, Courtney and me to New York City to show us where she grew up. Courtney was too young to appreciate it, but Kathy had a great time. I was always glad her last days were so happy.”
“You must miss her a great deal.”
Ross felt a twinge of guilt. Kathy hadn’t been in his life long enough for him to feel the loss as deeply as he might have otherwise. “She was barely twenty, in perfect health, with a baby she adored. Her death was a tragedy.”
Jessica nodded and drank her coffee.
Ross took a deep breath. He might as well tell her. She’d find out soon enough from someone. “Kathy was murdered.”
Jessica’s complexion paled. A thousand questions flashed in the blue of her eyes, but she gave voice to none of them.
“You’re wondering who would want to kill a beautiful young wife and mother,” he said.
She glanced away, her face now flushed as if embarrassed he’d read her mind. “It’s none of my business.”
“You’ll hear all kinds of rumors,” Ross said. “Since you’ll be living here, you’ll be more comfortable if you know the truth.”
“If you’d rather not talk about it—”
“The case is an open investigation, so it’s on my mind constantly.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “You haven’t caught the killer?”
Ross tightened his grip around his coffee mug, an outward sign of his inner frustration. “We’d just returned from New York. I went back to work, and Kathy planned to drive into town later in the morning to buy groceries. I was at my desk when I got the call. A fatal accident on Highway 7.”
Jessica frowned. “But you said she was murdered.”
Ross nodded grimly. “She was. Her car left the road at Sutton’s Curve. When the vehicle was inspected later, the mechanic discovered someone had tampered with the brakes.”
He leaned back in his chair and momentarily closed his eyes, trying to erase the memory of the crushed car, the blond head slumped against the steering wheel, a crying Courtney safely cradled in the infant carrier in the back seat. When he opened his eyes again, Jessica was staring at him with a mixture of sympathy and disbelief.
“Her car was kept here at the ranch?” she asked.
“You’re thinking someone would have noticed a stranger around the garage,” Ross said.
Jessica set her mug down with a thud. “I’m not implying anyone here tampered—”
“The house was closed while we were away. Chang Soo went home to San Francisco to visit relatives. The foreman’s residence and bunkhouse don’t have a clear view of the garage. Anyone could have come and gone without being seen.”
“Were there no clues?” Jessica asked. “From what I know of crime-solving—all from reading mysteries, granted—I thought a criminal always left something behind.”
He looked at her with respect. “Locard’s theory. Anytime someone enters and leaves an area, he either brings something with him or takes something away.” He frowned. The murderer was either the craftiest of villains or had remarkable luck. “We had several heavy rains during the time we were gone. Any clues were washed away. And the car was clean. Not a fingerprint anywhere. Not even a smudge.”
“Do you have a suspect?” Jessica held up her hands quickly. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”
�
�It helps to talk about it,” Ross said. “Most people, even my own homicide detectives, avoid the subject with me. Like you, they’re afraid of stirring up pain. The best thing to end my pain will be to catch the killer.”
Jessica nodded. “If it helps to talk, I’m a good listener.”
“Kathy didn’t have any enemies,” Ross said, then quickly backtracked. “Except her stiff-necked, holier-than-thou family. But even her self-righteous parents would never stoop to murder.”
“You said she was driving her car,” Jessica said. “Was she the only one who drove it?”
“If you’re implying someone meant to kill me instead,” Ross said, “you’re on the wrong track. I never drove her car. No, Kathy was the intended victim.”
“If the killer knew whose car it was.”
Ross nodded. “I’m sure whoever went to that much trouble had checked things out thoroughly. But I haven’t ruled out the theory that someone was trying to get at me by killing my wife.”
Jessica looked thoughtful. “Those Swenson County Freedom Fighters you mentioned last night?”
“They’re at the top of my list of suspects.”
Chang Soo appeared in the doorway. “You ready for me to serve breakfast now?”
Ross opened his mouth to speak at the same instant the glass wall of the solarium shattered by his head.
Chapter Five
Jessica flinched as the glass exploded around her. Before she had time to register what was happening, Ross had lunged for her. He pulled her off her chair onto the floor, knocking the breath from her lungs and covering her body with his.
“Chang Soo,” he yelled. “The shutters!”
Immediately, a rumble vibrated through the room, and the morning sunlight dimmed as the electronically operated storm panels lowered across what was left of the solarium glass. When the noise ceased, Ross jumped to his feet, grabbed Jessica beneath the elbows and lifted her beside him.
In the gloom created by the closed shutters, his gaze swept her from head to foot. “You okay?”
She was grateful for the support of his strong hands, the reassuring warmth of his closeness. She was shaking, as much from her unexpected close contact with Ross as from the shattering glass. She struggled for air, still breathless from surprise and the jolt of hitting the floor. “I…think so. What happened?”
Overhead lights suddenly flooded the room, and Ross pointed grimly to the glass beside the table where they’d been sitting. “Someone shot at you.”
Jessica couldn’t deny the entry hole was closer to where she’d been sitting than to Ross. An attack on her, however, didn’t make sense. “Why me?”
Ross’s expression was fierce. “Same reason someone tried to run you off the road, maybe?”
“And that is?” Today was starting out too much like yesterday, and Jessica didn’t think she could survive another twenty-four hours like the previous ones.
But Ross ignored her question. He was already striding across the room, calling to Chang Soo. “Tell Fiona to take Courtney to her room, keep the draperies closed, and stay away from the windows.”
The chef hurried away to fulfill his instructions.
Ross reached the phone on the far side of the solarium, picked up the receiver and punched in a number. “I want a dragnet around Shooting Star Ranch. Stop all vehicles and confiscate any rifle that’s been fired recently. And send me a Crime Scene Unit on the double.”
Jessica slid into the nearest chair. When Ross McGarrett took charge, he was like a force of nature. Awesome and unstoppable. She observed with admiration his quick and forceful handling of the situation. He was apparently unrattled, unlike her, who couldn’t stop her hands from trembling.
After he replaced the phone in its cradle, he strode back across the room, eyed the entry hole in the glass and followed its trajectory. He pointed to a neat circle, small and precise, in the trunk of a royal palm opposite the breakfast table. “That’s where we’ll find the slug. If our dragnet comes up with a recently fired weapon, we’ll try for a ballistics match.”
He headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Jessica found her voice wavering. She didn’t want to be left alone, especially without a clue as to what had happened and who was shooting at them.
Correction.
At her, according to Ross.
“To look for tracks,” Ross said. “Someone had to leave traces in all that snow.”
“But he could still be out there.” She felt a sudden panic at the thought of harm coming to the man she’d tried to view only as her host. “You’ll be a clear target.”
Ross’s face was grim. “I have a job to do.”
Before Jessica could protest again, he was gone. She gazed around the room in disbelief. Except for the shattered pane of glass and the claustrophobia caused by the metal storm shutters, the room was the same peaceful oasis it had been minutes earlier.
As if to emphasize that little had changed, Chang Soo approached her. “Your breakfast will be served in the dining room, missy.”
“Thank you, but never mind,” Jessica said. “I’m really not hungry.”
“Miss Fiona will join you there,” Chang Soo said, clearly refusing to take no for an answer. “You wait there for Mr. Ross to return.”
His tone was adamant, but his smile was sympathetic. Deciding that waiting with Fiona would be better than pacing her room alone, Jessica rose and followed Chang Soo to the dining room.
The heavy velvet draperies had been drawn over the bay window at one end, but the massive chandelier, cut-crystal lamps on the buffet and a cheery blaze in the fireplace chased away the gloom.
Jessica took the seat she’d occupied the previous night at dinner. Chang Soo disappeared into the kitchen, but returned a minute later with a crystal goblet.
“Mimosa,” he said with a grin. “Made with more champagne than orange juice. Make you feel better right away.”
Jessica took the glass from the dignified little chef and lifted it in a toast. “Here’s to Ross finding the shooter.”
Chang Soo nodded solemnly and returned to the kitchen.
Jessica sipped her mimosa and hoped the champagne would calm her frazzled nerves. The West was turning out to be wilder than her wildest dreams, and she intended to do something she’d never done in her career. Abandon her assignment and head straight for home.
“Good morning, Jessica.” Fiona swept into the dining room like a monarch toward a throne. “Courtney’s having her breakfast with Chang Soo. He’ll keep a good eye on her. Are you all right?”
Jessica suppressed the urge to giggle hysterically. All right? Amazingly yes, in spite of the fact that she’d been shot at twice, wrecked her rental car and discovered her assignment the clerical equivalent of climbing Mount Everest. And she’d be even better once she saw the last of Montana.
But her misfortunes weren’t Fiona McGarrett’s fault, and Jessica wouldn’t be rude to Max’s friend and client. “I’m fine. Luckily, whoever fired wasn’t a very good shot.”
“Or an excellent one,” Fiona said cryptically.
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe he had no intention of hitting anyone.”
Jessica felt her blood pressure rising. “Why would anyone shoot into an occupied house if not to hurt someone?”
“To generate fear.” Fiona accepted the mimosa Chang Soo handed her and took a drink.
“Terrorism?” Jessica asked.
Her hostess nodded. “We’ve seen too much of it the past year in Swenson County.”
“Maybe it was an accident.” Jessica could feel denial rising within her. She didn’t want to acknowledge that such cruel people existed. It made the world too scary a place. “A hunter who missed his mark.”
“Possibly,” Fiona admitted with a smile that was obviously forced. “We’ll know more when Ross returns.”
Jessica wanted to ask more about the other acts of terror that had occurred in Swenson County, but at that moment, Chang Soo
entered with their breakfast, golden-brown slabs of French toast surrounded by fresh fruit. The plates could have graced the cover of Gourmet, but Jessica’s appetite was gone, killed by a single shot through the solarium window.
ROSS STOMPED THE SNOW from his boots on the front porch, then stood aside while the Crime Scene Unit exited, their hands full of equipment and evidence bags.
Don Parker, the head technician, stopped and handed Ross a small plastic bag containing a lead slug.
“Looks like a .223 caliber,” Don said. “We’ll run a ballistics check. See if it matches anything already in the system.”
Ross nodded and gave him back the bag. “If not, it could be from any of a hundred hunting rifles used in this area.”
“Maybe we’ll get lucky and come up with a hit.” The technician moved on toward his van.
“Yeah,” Ross said with irony, “and maybe we’re in for a heat wave.”
He entered the house and shucked his jacket in the front hall. Following the sound of voices, he found Jessica and Fiona in the dining room. Both looked up as he entered, their expressions questioning.
For a woman who’d been targeted two days in a row, Jessica appeared amazingly composed. Only the tiny hint of white around her lips revealed her tension. Ross felt his heart warm at the sight of her. Something about the woman, whether her courage and feistiness or just the strength of her personality, spoke to him on a visceral level. He briefly entertained the thought of always having her welcoming him home, then pushed the ridiculous notion aside. She’d made abundantly clear her dislike for Montana. And the fact that she had no intention of staying.
Unlike Jessica, Fiona showed no signs of strain. His defiant grandmother wasn’t about to let shots fired into her home rattle her. She motioned Ross to his seat and called for Chang Soo to bring him a plate. Ross had to admit that, in spite of his frustration, he was hungry. He also noted that neither Jessica nor his grandmother had done more than play with the food on their plates.
“Did you find anything?” Jessica asked.
He wished he could say something concrete to reassure her. “I found where the shot was fired.”
The Christmas Target Page 6