Shotgun Sheriff--A Western Sheriff Romance of Intrigue

by Delores Fossen

  Ben mumbled something. “Guess that means you’re still gunning for him.”

  Livvy huffed. “Only if Shane’s guilty of something. Is he?”

  “I knew it.” Ben cursed again. “I knew you’d still go after my boy.”

  Livvy didn’t even bother to repeat that she wasn’t on some vendetta to convict Shane of anything. But Ben might have a vendetta of his own.

  “Did you tamper with these documents to implicate Billy so you could get your son cleared of murder charges?” Livvy asked.

  “No. The documents are real, and Billy changed them so Jonah could buy that land.”

  His answer was so fast and assured that it surprised Livvy. Ben could have taken the easy way out. Heck, he could have hung up the phone and raced to the jail to see Shane.

  But he hadn’t.

  Instead, Ben had stuck to his story about Billy’s involvement.

  Livvy looked at the documents again. They certainly seemed real, and that meant she had to call Reed.

  They needed a search warrant ASAP.

  “My advice?” Ben said. “Be careful, Sergeant Hutton. Because once everyone in town knows what Billy and Jonah did, somebody’s gonna get hurt. Bad.”

  Livvy didn’t question the threat because she knew Ben was right. The town was already on the verge of an explosion, and this certainly wouldn’t help.

  “One more thing,” Ben added. “Everything we’ve said here, somebody’s probably overheard. Somebody who’s probably running to tell Billy to destroy anything that might put these murders on him. He’ll be desperate. Real desperate. If I was you, I’d get over there right now.”

  Livvy didn’t argue or disagree. She dropped the phone back onto its cradle and hurried to find Reed.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Reed replayed everything Livvy had told him about her conversation with Ben. In fact, Reed had spent a good deal of the day replaying it and trying to figure out what the devil was going on.

  He wasn’t any closer to the answer than he had been when the day started.

  Thankfully, Woody had come back from his fishing trip. Well, he had after Reed had sent his deputy out to tell the man what had been going on in town. Woody had returned immediately, just in time to give Reed permission to search Billy’s office in the city building.

  Reed had personally gone through every inch of Billy’s office. Nothing was out of order, nor were there any signs of tampered documents. It’d helped that Billy hadn’t been there during the search, but he would find out about it. That was a given, even though Reed had sworn Billy’s secretary to secrecy.

  Besides, there was a bigger secret that Reed had to unravel.

  Shane was out of jail now. Cleared because of planted evidence that Livvy had discovered. So, that meant there was a killer out there who had to be caught.

  Reed just wasn’t sure this was the way to go about doing it.

  Beside him on the seat of his truck, Livvy was napping. Thank God. She was the only person in town who in the past twenty-four hours had had less sleep than him. Of course, she hadn’t wanted the nap. In fact, she’d fought it like crazy, but in the end, the boring stakeout of Billy’s house had been too much for the fatigue, and she was now asleep with her head dropped onto his shoulder.

  Reed didn’t mind the close contact with her rhythmic breath brushing against his neck. He didn’t even mind that her left breast was squished against his arm. The touching was a surefire way of remembering that she was a woman, and that in turn was a surefire way of keeping him awake.

  Shifting a little so that his arm wouldn’t go numb, Reed checked their surroundings again. It was dark now, still hotter than hell, and no one had come or gone from the Whitley house in the entire three hours that Livvy and he had been keeping watch. The area wasn’t exactly brimming with activity since it was located just outside the city limits and a good half mile from any neighbors.

  Reed had called Billy earlier, before he’d even gone to the man’s office to search. Billy had been home then. Sick with a sudden case of the stomach flu, he’d said, and he had a doctor’s appointment in San Antonio and wouldn’t be home until later in the evening. Then, he’d hung up and hadn’t answered the phone when Reed tried to call him again. That’d sent Livvy and Reed out to Billy’s place because they didn’t want the man to try to destroy any evidence.

  But where were Billy and Charla now? Still at the doctor’s office or perhaps pretending to be there?

  And had someone already tipped him off about Ben somehow finding the doctored land record? Or the office search? Maybe. But if Billy did know, the last thing Reed expected the man to do was go on the run.

  Well, unless Billy really was a killer.

  Reed checked his cell phone again. Nope. He hadn’t missed a call. Not that he thought he had since the phone was set to a loud ring. That meant Kirby hadn’t succeeded in getting the search warrant yet. Reed hadn’t needed one for a municipal office because Woody had given him permission to search. But he’d need one for a private residence.

  He’d get it, too.

  There was no way a judge would turn it down with the evidence of the doctored documents, but Comanche Creek wasn’t exactly flooded with judges, and Kirby had gotten stuck driving all the way over to Bandana, a good hour away, just to find Judge Calder, who was visiting relatives.

  Reed had considered just going in and looking around Billy and Charla’s place. But that wouldn’t be smart if Livvy and he managed to find something incriminating. If Billy was the killer, Reed didn’t want anything like an unlawful search to stand in the way of the man’s arrest and conviction. Of course, Reed had considered that this could be an exigent circumstance, where a peace officer could conduct a search without a warrant if there was a likelihood that evidence might be destroyed, but again, he didn’t want that challenged. He wanted to follow the letter of the law on this one.

  Livvy stirred, her breath shivering as if she were in the throes of a bad dream. But Reed rethought that theory when her eyes sprang open and her gaze snapped to his.

  Even though the only illumination came from the hunter’s moon and the yellow security light mounted at the end of the drive, he could clearly see her expression. No nightmare. But no doubt disturbing.

  This dream was perhaps of the sexual variety.

  Or maybe that was wishful thinking on his part. His thoughts were certainly straying toward that variety when it came to Livvy.

  “You shouldn’t have let me fall asleep,” she mumbled and eased her breast away from his arm.

  Maybe it was his surly mood, or even his own fatigue, but Reed put his hand around the back of her neck, hauled her to him and kissed her.

  He got proof of the direction of her thoughts when she didn’t resist. She kissed him right back.

  And more.

  Livvy caught onto his shoulders and adjusted their positions so that he got more of that breast contact. Both of them. He’d been hot before, but that kicked up the heat even more.

  The kiss continued. Deepened. So did the body contact. They were both damp with sweat, and with the moisture from the kiss, everything suddenly felt right for sex.

  It wasn’t, of course.

  And because they were literally sitting in his truck in front of a suspected killer’s house, Reed remembered that this was not a safe time to engage in an oral rodeo with a woman he wanted more than his next breath.

  He pulled back. Man, his body protested. But before his body could come up with a convincing argument as to why this could continue, Reed moved Livvy back onto the seat so that they were no longer touching.

  “I feel like I’m back in high school,” she complained.

  Not Reed. In high school his willpower had sucked, and he wouldn’t have let something like common sense or danger get in the way of having sex.

  And if he wasn’t careful, he wouldn’t let those things get in the way now.

  His phone rang, slicing through the uncomfortable silence that followed Livvy�
�s confession. Reed wasn’t pleased with the interruption, but he was damn happy about getting this call.

  “Kirby,” Reed answered. “Tell me you have a search warrant.”

  “I got it. The judge didn’t put any limits on it, either. You can go through the house, grounds and any outbuildings or vehicles. You still waiting at Billy’s house?”

  “Yeah. Bring the warrant to us.”

  “Will do. I’ll be there in about forty-five minutes.”

  Reed hung up, knowing he wouldn’t wait that long. The warrant had been issued and that was enough. “Let’s go,” he instructed.

  Livvy immediately grabbed her equipment bag, got out and joined him as they walked toward the front of the house. “You plan to bash down the door?” she asked.

  “No need.” Reed lifted the fake rock to the left side of the porch and extracted a key.

  “That’s not very safe,” she commented.

  No, but until recently most people around Comanche Creek hadn’t had cause to be concerned about safety.

  Reed unlocked the door and stepped inside. “Anyone home?” he called out just to be sure that Billy or his wife weren’t hiding out. But he got no answer.

  He was thankful that the house wasn’t huge and also that he had been there often enough to know the layout. “Billy’s office is this way,” he said, leading Livvy down the hall that was off the living room. “His wife, Charla, is somewhat of a neat freak so if he brought the land documents home, they’d be in here.”

  They went into the office, turned on the lights and immediately got to work. The room wasn’t large, but it was jammed with furniture, including a desk that held a stack of papers, folders and an open laptop. Reed went there first, and Livvy headed to a filing cabinet.

  “What are some possible file names that would be red flags?” she asked.

  “Anything that deals with Native American land. Or something called the Reston Act. That’s the name of the old law that gave the Comanches the land.”

  Livvy took out some latex gloves from her bag, put them on and tossed him a pair. She then pulled open the drawer. “So, if that law is on the books, why wasn’t the land deal challenged when it happened two years ago?”

  “It was, by the activist Native American group. But then Billy produced this document that supposedly superseded the Reston Act. It seemed legit, and there were other documents on file to back it up. Basically, those documents claimed that the land had only been leased to the Comanches and that ownership reverted to the original owner, who was Jonah’s great-great-grandfather.”

  “Convenient,” Livvy mumbled.

  “Maybe.” Reed put on the gloves and thumbed through the papers and files. “Or maybe someone doctored that, too. The activist group didn’t have the funds to fight a long legal battle, so they turned to Marcie. They wanted her to testify that at Jonah’s urging, Jerry Collier orchestrated the illegal land deal.”

  “And we know what happened to Marcie.” Livvy paused, and he heard her rifling through the files. “Other than Billy, who else could have faked the documents?”

  Reed figured she wouldn’t like the answer. He certainly didn’t. “Anyone with access to the land office.”

  Woody, Billy, Jerry and, yes, even Jonah. Basically, anyone with enough motive and determination could have figured out a way to get into those files since security was practically nonexistent.

  That had changed. Since the murders, Reed had insisted the city council install a better security system, one with surveillance cameras. But this crime—the altered documents—had happened long before the murders.

  “I might have something,” Livvy said.

  But when he looked at her, she no longer had her attention on the files. She was studying something in the bookcase behind the cabinet. “There are two books here, one on Comanche burial rituals and another on local Native American artifacts.”

  That grabbed his attention, especially the one about rituals. Reed pulled it from the shelf, went straight to the index and saw the references for the red paint and ochre clay used in burials. It was critical because two dead bodies found the previous week had been prepared with red paint and clay.

  “Hell,” Reed mumbled. He continued to thumb through the book and noticed the pages with the clay references had been dog-eared.

  Of course, Billy’s wife was Native American. Maybe the books were hers. But Reed suspected if they had been, they wouldn’t be in Billy’s office. “It’s circumstantial, but we can still use it to build a case. If Billy’s guilty,” he added.

  “I think we might have something more than just circumstantial,” Livvy corrected.

  Reed looked up from the book. Livvy was photographing the trash can. She took several pictures and then carefully pushed aside some wadded-up paper and pulled out a latex glove, one very similar to the pair she was wearing.

  “Any reason Billy would need this in his office?” she asked.

  “None that I can think of.” Especially none that involved anything legal.

  Livvy eased the glove right side out and examined it. “We might be able to get DNA from the inside,” she explained.

  She placed the glove back on top of the paper wads, took the spray bottle of Luminol from her bag. She put just a fine mist on a small area that would cover the back of the hand.

  It lit up.

  An eerie blue glow.

  Indicating there was blood.

  Reed cursed again. “Is there enough for a DNA match to Marcie’s blood?”

  “All it takes is a tiny amount.” She leaned in closer. “There’s a smudge. It could be gunshot residue. Let’s go ahead and bag this, and I’ll bring the entire trash can in case the other glove is down in there.”

  Reed took one of the evidence bags to encase the glove while Livvy clicked off more photographs. The trash can and the glove would be sent to the lab that would have the final word on any biological or trace evidence, but it wasn’t looking good for Billy.

  Was Billy really a killer?

  Reed had to admit it was possible. He’d known Billy all his life and had never seen any indication that the man was violent. Still, he’d also seen desperate people do desperate things, and Billy might have been desperate to cover his tracks and therefore kill Marcie.

  “Once Kirby gets here with the warrant, I’ll have him lock down the place so we can have time to go through everything else,” Reed explained.

  It also might be a good idea for them to drive the glove and trash can to the lab themselves. If they could get a quick match to Marcie on the blood, then Reed would arrest Billy.

  “Are you okay?” Livvy asked.

  Reed realized then that he was staring at the bagged glove with what had to be an expression of gloom and doom on his face. “I was just hoping the killer was someone else. Someone I didn’t know.”

  “I understand.” She touched his arm with her fingertips. A gesture no doubt meant to soothe him.

  And it might have worked, too, if there hadn’t been a sound. A slight rustling from outside the house.

  “Probably the wind,” Livvy said under her breath.

  “Probably.” But Reed set the bagged glove aside in case he had to reach for his gun. “It’s not Kirby. We would have heard the cruiser drive up.” Besides, it was too soon for the deputy to have arrived.

  There was another sound. One that Reed couldn’t quite distinguish, but it had come from the same direction as the first.

  “I’ll have a look,” he insisted, and drew his weapon.

  Livvy put down the trash can and did the same. “You think Billy’s out there?” she whispered.

  Someone certainly was—Reed was positive of that when he heard the next sound.

  Footsteps, just outside the window.

  He turned, aiming his gun.

  Just as the lights went out and plunged them into total darkness.

  Reed saw the shadow outside the window and reached for Livvy to get her out of the way. But he was a split second
too late.

  The bullet tore through the glass and came right at them.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Livvy heard the shot, but she wasn’t able to see who had fired at them. That was because Reed shoved her to the floor. She landed, hard, and the impact with the rustic wood planks nearly knocked the breath out of her.

  Thankfully, Reed didn’t have any trouble reacting.

  He rolled to the side, came up on one knee, and using the desk as cover, he took aim. She couldn’t see him clearly, but she heard the result. His shot blasted through what was left of the glass on the far right window.

  “Who’s out there?” she whispered, getting herself into position so she could fire as well.

  “I can’t tell.”

  Well, it was obviously someone who wanted them dead.

  That hadn’t been a warning shot. It’d come much too close to hitting them. And worse, it wasn’t over. Reed and she were literally pinned down in a room with three large windows, any one of which could be an attack point. But it wasn’t the only way a gunman could get to them.

  There was a door behind them.

  Livvy rolled onto her back so she could kick it shut. At least this way the culprit wouldn’t be able to sneak up on them. And that led her to the big question.

  Who exactly was the culprit?

  “Billy Whitley,” Livvy mumbled under her breath. Livvy scrambled to the side of the desk as well.

  Another shot came through the window. Not from Reed this time. But from their attacker. Reed immediately returned fire, but Livvy held back and tried to peer over the desk and into the night. She hoped to get a glimpse of the shooter’s location, but the only thing she saw was the darkness.

  The next shot tore through the oak desk and sent a spray of splinters right at them. Reed shoved her back to the floor, and she caught onto his arm to make sure he came down as well.

  More shots.

  One right behind the other.