Shotgun Sheriff--A Western Sheriff Romance of Intrigue

by Delores Fossen

  Reed nodded. “Takeout, it is. I’ll even see if the cook can figure out a way to add some chocolate to whatever’s on the breakfast menu.”

  Livvy blinked. “How did you know I like chocolate?”

  “Your breath, this morning. I smelled it. Milky Way?”

  “Snickers,” she confessed.

  He didn’t know why, but that confession seemed just as intimate as the sex thoughts he’d been having about her. He obviously needed to remember that he was a badass Texas sheriff. A surly one at that. Certainly not a man who cared to make a mental note to buy Livvy a Snickers bar or two.

  “I’ll see you in the morning.” Reed headed out the door. However, he did wait in the hall until Livvy had closed it and he heard her engage the lock. She also moved something—a chair, from the sound of it—in front of the door.

  Good.

  Livvy was at least a little scared, and though that likely meant she wouldn’t get much sleep, her vigilance might keep her safe. Now, Reed had to make sure that that safety extended to other things.

  As soon as the borrowed deputies got to his office, he would send one of them out to patrol Main Street. Specifically, the Bluebonnet Inn. And he’d make copies of anything Livvy had left in the storage locker. That way, if the arsonist struck again, they wouldn’t lose what little evidence they had left.

  While Reed was making his mental list, he also added that he needed to call about the bullet, the missing cell phone, the gun and the DNA sample that Livvy had sent to the coroner.

  It’d be another night short on sleep.

  Reed went down the stairs, said goodnight to Betty Alice and watched as the woman double-locked the door and set the security alarm. Since the inn was also Betty Alice’s home, it meant she, too, would be staying there, and Reed hoped everything would stay safe and secure. No more fires.

  Because the drizzle had turned to a hard rain, he hurried down the steps toward his truck. But something had him stopping. He glanced around and spotted the black car parked just up the street in front of the newspaper office. That office had been closed for several hours, and there should have been no one parked there.

  Reed tried to pick through the rain and the darkness and see if anyone was inside.

  There was.

  But because the windows were heavily tinted, he couldn’t see the person. Nor the license plate. However, Reed could see the sticker that indicated it was a rental car. Definitely not a common sight in Comanche Creek.

  He eased his hand over the butt of his Smith and Wesson and started toward the car. Maybe this had nothing to do with anything. Or maybe the fact it was a rental meant this was someone not local. Maybe someone Marcie had met while she was in hiding.

  Either way, Reed braced himself for the worst.

  The farther he made it down the sidewalk, the less he could see. That was because the only streetlights in this area were the two that flanked the front of the Bluebonnet Inn. The person had chosen the darkest spot to park.

  And wait.

  Reed was about fifteen feet away from the vehicle when he saw the movement inside. Someone gripped onto the wheel. A moment later, the engine roared to life. Reed kept moving toward it, but the sudden lurching motion of the car had him stopping in his tracks.

  It happened in a split second. There was more movement from the driver, and the car barreled forward.

  Right at Reed.

  Drawing his gun, he dove to the side. And not a moment too soon. He landed on the wet grass of the vacant lot, his shoulder ramming into a chunk of limestone.

  The car careened right into the spot where seconds earlier he’d been standing.

  Reed cursed and came up on one knee. Ready to fire. Or to dive out of the way if the car came at him again.

  But it didn’t.

  The driver gunned the engine, and before he sped away, Reed caught just a glimpse of the person inside.

  Hell.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Where the heck is he?” Livvy heard Reed demand.

  He’d been making such demands from everyone he’d called, and this wasn’t his first call. Reed had been on the phone the entire time since he’d picked her up at the Bluebonnet Inn ten minutes earlier. And while Livvy ate her scrambled-egg breakfast taco that Reed had brought her from the diner, she tried to make sense of what was going on.

  “Leave him another message,” Reed added, his voice as tense as the muscles of his face. “Tell him to call me the minute he gets back.” And with that, Reed slapped his phone shut and shoved it into his pocket.

  Livvy waited for an explanation of what had gotten him into such a foul mood, but he didn’t say a word. She wondered if it was personal, and if so, she wanted to stay far away from it. There was already too much personal stuff going on between Reed and her, including that little chat they’d had about chocolate, badges and relationships.

  She’d dreamed about him.

  Not a tame dream either, but one that involved kissing and sex.

  Hot, sweaty sex.

  She would have preferred to dream about catching a killer or processing evidence, but instead she’d gotten too-vivid images of what it would be like to be taken by a man who almost certainly knew how to take.

  Livvy felt herself blush. And decided she needed a change of thoughts. “Is there a problem?” she asked Reed.

  Still no immediate answer, which confirmed there was indeed something wrong. “When I was leaving the Bluebonnet last night, I saw a rental car parked just up the street. When I went to check it out, the driver gunned the engine and nearly plowed right into me.”

  Oh, mercy. “Any reason you didn’t tell me this sooner?”

  More hesitation. “I wanted to check into a few things first.”

  Which, of course, explained nothing. Well, nothing other than why during the night there’d been a deputy positioned in a cruiser on the street directly in front of the inn. When Livvy had noticed him, she’d gotten upset with Reed because she’d assumed once again that he thought she couldn’t take care of herself. But the rental-car incident was what had prompted him to add some extra security to the inn.

  Reed had wanted someone in place in case the guy returned.

  With her appetite gone now, Livvy wrapped up the rest of the breakfast taco and shoved it back into the bag. “Were you hurt?” she asked, starting with the most obvious question.

  “No.” That answer was certainly fast enough, though she did notice the scrape on the back of his right hand. It was red and raw.

  Livvy moved on to the next questions. “Any idea who the driver was, and why he’d want to do something like this?”

  The possible theories started to fire through her head, but the one at the forefront was that the person who’d done this had also destroyed the cabin and her SUV. And this person wanted all the evidence destroyed and the investigation halted so the real killer wouldn’t be caught. Or maybe the person thought the real killer was already behind bars and wanted him free.

  Shane’s father, maybe.

  Or the other suspects.

  Jerry Collier, Billy Whitley, Charla, Jonah Becker or Woody.

  Reed stopped his truck just off the road that led to the burned-out cabin. Just yards away there was a police cruiser from another county. The vehicle no doubt belonged to the backups that Reed had called in. But it wasn’t the activity that had her staring at him. Suddenly, the calls and his surly mood made sense.

  “You saw the driver,” she accused.

  He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I saw his hat. A white Stetson with a rattler’s tail on the band.” Reed got out and slammed the door.

  It didn’t take her long to remember where she’d seen one matching that description. “Woody Sadler’s hat,” she clarified, getting out as well. Since Reed had already started to storm up the hill, she had to grab her equipment bag and hurry to keep up with him.

  “A hat like his,” Reed corrected.

  “Or his,” Livvy corrected back. She thought o
f the calls Reed had made in the truck. “And you haven’t been able to speak to Woody to ask where he was last night.”

  The glance he gave her was hard and cold, but he didn’t deny it. “Woody’s secretary said he’d decided to take a last-minute fishing trip. His cell phone doesn’t have service at the lake.” He stopped so abruptly that Livvy nearly lost her balance trying to do the same. He aimed his index finger at her. “But let’s get one thing straight. Woody wouldn’t have tried to run me down.”

  Livvy wanted to argue with that, but it was true. It wouldn’t make sense. Now, if Woody had come after her, that would have been more believable.

  “Okay.” Livvy nodded. “Then that means someone wanted you to think it was Woody. Who would have access to a hat like that?”

  “Anyone in Texas,” he grumbled.

  Of course. It was dumb of her to ask. “But you’re sure it was a man behind the wheel of the car?”

  “Pretty sure. The person had the hat angled so that I couldn’t see his face. And I got just a glimpse.”

  She glanced at the scrape on his hand again. Reed had gotten lucky, because even if this had been a stunt to scare them, it could have gone terribly wrong and he could have been killed. The thought made her a little sick to her stomach.

  Okay, not sick sick.

  Troubled sick.

  She didn’t like to think of anything bad happening to him, even though they were, for all practical purposes, still on opposite sides of a very tall fence.

  “What?” he asked, glancing down at his hand and then at her.

  “Nothing.” And so that it would stay that way, she started up the hill again.

  Reed snagged her by the arm and stopped her in her tracks. “Something,” he corrected.

  She thought of her dream, felt the blush return. Livvy tried to shrug, and she quickly tried to get her mind off those raunchy images. “I know you’re the boss, but from now on, please don’t keep anything from me that might relate to the case.”

  And to make sure this didn’t continue, she pulled away from his grip and started toward the uniformed deputy standing near the burned-out swatch of her SUV. Someone had already gathered up the debris. Nearby, just several feet inside the start of the thick brush and trees, she spotted a uniformed officer.

  Livvy also spotted the soggy, muddy ground that was caking onto her boots. That mud wasn’t good for her footwear or the crime scene. It had certainly washed away any tracks, and it’d sent a stream of ashes down the hill from the cabin. The black soot slivered through the crushed limestone, creating an eerie effect.

  Reed said something to the uniformed officer and then looked at her. He motioned for Livvy to follow. Despite the mud weights now on her soles, she did. Not easily though. Reed began to plow through the woods like a man on a mission.

  “They found something,” he relayed to her without even looking back to make sure she was there.

  That got Livvy moving faster, and she followed him through the maze of wet branches, underbrush and wildflowers. “What?”

  But Reed didn’t answer. He made his way to some yellow crime-scene tape that had been tied to a scrawny mesquite oak. “They didn’t collect it,” he explained. “They figured you’d want to do that.”

  Livvy walked around the tree and examined what had caused Reed to react the way he had. It didn’t take her long to see the swatch of fabric clinging to a low-hanging branch. It was fairly large, at least two inches long and an inch wide. She immediately set down her equipment bag and took out the supplies she needed to photograph and tag it. Thank goodness she had a backup camera because her primary one was destroyed in the fire.

  “It looks as if it came from the cuff of a shirt,” Reed pointed out.

  Possibly. It was thick, maybe double-layered, and there was enough cloth for her to see that it was multicolored with thin stripes of dark gold and burgundy on a navy blue background. It wouldn’t have been her first choice of clothing to wear to commit a crime because the pattern really stood out.

  Livvy snapped pictures of the swatch from different angles. “Did you see the perp’s clothing when he was by my SUV and then running into the woods?”

  “Just the baseball cap. But it’s possible he had on a jacket, and that’s why I didn’t see the shirt.”

  Yes, or maybe this didn’t belong to the suspect. Still, Livvy continued to hope because something like this could literally solve the case.

  “You think it has DNA on it?” Reed asked.

  “It might. If not on the fabric itself, then maybe the tree branch snagged some skin.” It looked as if the fabric had been ripped off while someone was running past the branch.

  Reed got closer, practically arm to arm with her, and took his own photograph using his cell phone. “I’m sending this to Kirby at the office.” He pressed some buttons on his phone to do that. “I’ll have him ask around and see if anyone recognizes the fabric.”

  Good idea. She wished she’d thought of it first, and then Livvy scolded herself for even going there. Reed and she were on the same side, and maybe if she repeated it enough, she would soon believe it. She certainly wasn’t having trouble remembering everything else about him.

  Livvy finished the photographing, bagged the fabric and then snipped the tip of the branch so she could bag it as well. While she did that, Reed walked deeper into the woods.

  “See anything else?” she asked.

  “No.” He stopped, propped his hands on his hips and looked around. “But if I were going to commit a crime and then make a fast escape, this is the route I’d go. If he’d gone east, that would have put him on the road. There’s a creek to the west, and this time of year it’s swollen because of the spring rains. With the fire and us behind him, this was the only way out.”

  Picking up the equipment bag, she went closer. “So, you’re thinking the person was local?”

  He nodded. And remained in deep thought for several long moments. “Jonah doesn’t exactly encourage people to go traipsing onto his land, so there aren’t paths through here.” Reed pointed to the even thicker brush and trees ahead. “And once the arsonist made it to that point, I wouldn’t have been able to see him. If that fabric belongs to him and if he ran in a fairly straight line, he would have ended up there.”

  Reed pointed to a trio of oaks standing so close together they were practically touching. Around them were thick clumps of cedars.

  “The deputies searched that area?” Livvy asked.

  Reed glanced around at the tracks on the muddy ground. “Yeah. But I’d like to have another look.”

  So would she, so Livvy followed him. She checked for breakage on the branches and shrubs, but when she didn’t see any, she went farther to her right because the perp could have wavered from a straight-line run, especially once he was aware that Reed was in pursuit.

  Since any point could be the escape route, she took some pictures, the flash of the camera slicing through the morning light. She was aware of the sound of Reed’s footsteps, but Livvy continued to photograph the scene while moving right.

  “Stop!” Reed shouted. But he didn’t just shout.

  He grabbed on to her shoulder and jerked her back so that she landed hard against his chest. Suddenly she was touching him everywhere and was in his arms.

  “What are you doing?” she managed to ask. She looked up at him, but Reed’s attention wasn’t on her. It was on the ground.

  “Trap.” He pointed to a clump of soggy decaying leaves.

  Livvy didn’t understand at first, but she followed Reed’s pointing finger and spotted the bit of black metal poking out from the clump.

  Reed reached down, picked up a rock and tossed it at the device. It snapped shut, the claw-like sides closing in as they were meant to capture whatever—or whoever—was unfortunate enough to step on it. If she’d walked just another few inches, that trap would have clamped on to her foot.

  “The perp probably wouldn’t have had time to set that,” Livvy managed to say
. Not easily. Her heart was pounding and her breath had gone so thin that she could barely speak.

  “Not unless he put it here before he started the fires.”

  Yes, and if he’d done that, then this crime had been premeditated. Worse, if there was one trap, there might be others.

  “I need an evidence bag,” Reed told her, moving toward the trap. “The trap might have fingerprints on it.”

  Livvy handed him a large collection bag and watched as he carefully retrieved the trap. “I’ll have the deputies go through the area with a metal detector. After we’re sure it’s safe, we’ll come back and keep looking.”

  She wasn’t about to argue with that. First the fires. Then, Reed’s encounter with the rental car. Now, this. It didn’t take any CSI training to know that someone didn’t want them to investigate this case.

  Reed’s cell phone rang, and he handed her the bagged trap so that he could take the call. Livvy labeled the item and eased it into her evidence bag so that she wouldn’t smear any prints or DNA that might be on it.

  “Billy said what?” Reed asked. And judging from his suddenly sharp tone, he wasn’t pleased about something.

  Since she couldn’t actually hear what the caller was saying, she watched Reed’s expression and it went from bad to worse.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked the moment he ended the call.

  Reed turned and started back toward his truck. “Kirby faxed the picture of the fabric to all the town agencies, and Billy Whitley said he’d seen that pattern before, and that it’d come from a shirt.”

  Billy Whitley. The county clerk she’d met in front of the sheriff’s office the day before. The one who might also have ties to Marcie and her murder. “And did Billy happen to know who owns that shirt?”

  “Yeah, he did.” That was all Reed said until they made it back into the clearing. “Come on. We need to question a suspect.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Reed pulled to a stop at the end of the tree-lined private road that led to Jonah Becker’s sprawling ranch house. He couldn’t drive any farther because someone had closed and locked the wrought-iron cattle gates. Since he’d called about fifteen minutes earlier to let Jonah know he was on the way to have a chat, Reed figured the surly rancher had shut the gates on purpose.