Case File: Canyon Creek, Wyoming

by Graves, Paula

While Riley walked to the front of the house with Jane, Hannah pulled her suitcase onto the bed and started unpacking. The closet across from the bed was empty, save for a couple of extra blankets piled atop a high shelf. Hannah filled several of the bare clothes hangers with her sparse collection of blouses and sweaters. Jeans, T-shirts and underwear went into the small chest of drawers by the door.

  Her toiletries she kept in the bag she’d packed them in, since she’d be sharing the house’s only bathroom with Riley. She couldn’t quite bring herself to store her deodorant next to his on the sink counter.

  Riley tapped on the open door, making her jump. “Do you have everything you need?”

  She looked up to find him leaning against the door frame, his arms folded over his chest. His direct gaze made the skin on the back of her neck prickle, but she refused to look away. If they were going to be sharing this house for the next few days, she was going to have to control her rattled nerves. Now was as good a time to start as any.

  “I’m taking the rest of the week off from work,” he told her, pushing away from the door and walking farther into the room. His broad shoulders and muscle-corded frame seemed to crowd the room, leaving Hannah feeling small and vulnerable. She stood up, thinking it would put them on more equal footing, but rising only brought her closer to him. Up close, he seemed bigger than she’d thought, solid, hard and masculine. He smelled good, a tangy combination of pine needles and sweet hay. He’d gone with Joe to check on the horses in the stable, she remembered, while Jane helped her settle in.

  Taking a step backwards, she forced her thoughts back to what he’d just said. “Don’t take time off on my account.”

  His lips quirked. “I have to. Since I’m supposed to be protecting you.”

  “I should be safe enough here by myself. The guy who attacked me doesn’t know where to find you, does he?”

  “I wouldn’t think so. But I don’t think we should take chances. I’m not really going to be off. This is police business.” To her relief, he backed away, settling in the rocker where Jane had sat earlier, his long legs stretched in front of him. “Joe’s going to tell everyone he forced me to take vacation. They’ll believe it. I haven’t been off in a couple of years.”

  She arched her eyebrows. “Workaholic?”

  His expression closed. “I just like to work.”

  She knew a warning flag when she saw one. She shifted the subject. “The doctor told me before I left that I could get back some of the memory that’s hazy right now. About the day of the attack, I mean. Maybe I’ll remember more about what the man was wearing—the belt buckle, what kind of shirt he had on.”

  “It’s possible,” he conceded. “Meanwhile, Jim Tanner is looking into the backgrounds of the hospital personnel.”

  “I don’t know that just anyone would know how to tamper with a security camera.” Hannah sat down cross-legged on the end of the bed, tucking her feet under the blanket Jane had given her. A cold wind had picked up during the night, blasting the valley with a bitter autumn chill that the little wood stove couldn’t quite combat.

  “There are a few ways it could have been done. The tech guys in Cheyenne will be able to tell us more.” Riley shifted in his chair and pulled a cell phone from his pocket. “I want you using this to make all your calls. It’s my personal cell phone. I can use my work phone. I don’t want you to use your own phone while you’re here in Wyoming.”

  She frowned. “Why not?”

  “We don’t know how much this guy knows about you now. If he’s a hospital employee, he could have accessed your hospital records, which would give him a hell of a lot of personal information at his fingertips. If he has your cell phone number, he could possibly have a way to trace its use.”

  Hannah’s stomach gave a little flip as she took the phone from him. “Are you trying to scare me or something? Believe me, it’s not necessary.”

  “I just want you to be on guard every moment. Think about the things you do and say, who you talk to. I assume you’ll want to call your family to let them know where you are?”

  Hannah rubbed her head. She hadn’t even thought about what she was going to tell her parents about what she’d decided to do. “I don’t know what to tell them.”

  “It’s up to you. Tell them as much or as little as you think they need to know.”

  “If I tell them too much, there’ll be eight Coopers on the next flight to Wyoming.”

  “Tell them you met a nice doctor at the hospital and he’s taking you skiing in Jackson Hole.” Riley’s lips quirked. “A nice rich doctor. Don’t mothers love to hear stuff like that?”

  “My mother can sniff out a lie faster than a bloodhound on a ’possum.”

  He grinned at that. “So tell her you met a nice cop who took you home and has you locked in his spare bedroom.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s so much better.”

  His soft laugh caught her by surprise. It was a great laugh, musical and fluid, though it sounded a bit rusty, as if he hadn’t used it in a while.

  Maybe he hadn’t.

  “Just tell her the truth,” he suggested, his laughter dying. “But don’t make it sound too scary. I’m pretty sure the guy who attacked you hasn’t yet connected you to me, so that should keep you safe while we see if we can put together all the pieces to our puzzle.”

  Hannah glanced at the clock sitting on the bedside table. It read 5:30 a.m. “Is that clock right?”

  Riley checked his watch. “Yes.”

  It was an hour later in Alabama. Her parents would be up by now. She flipped open the cell phone he’d handed her and dialed her parents’ number.

  Her mother answered, sounding sleepy. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Mom, it’s me.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Hannah smiled at her mother’s immediate leap to the worst possible conclusion. “Everything’s okay. I just wanted to let you know what’s happening.”

  She caught her mother up to date on all that had happened, pausing now and then to allow her mother to catch her father up on all that she was saying. Feeling Riley’s gaze on her, she looked up to find him studying her with slightly narrowed eyes. His hands rested on the arms of the rocker, his fingers drumming softly on the polished wood, but it seemed more a nervous twitch than a sign of impatience.

  “You need to be on the next plane instead of holed up under police protection,” her mother said firmly.

  “I have almost a week left of my vacation, Mom. If I stick around, maybe something will trigger my memory—”

  “You can trigger your memory in the safety of your own home,” Beth Cooper insisted. “Mike, talk to your daughter.”

  “Mom—don’t…Hi, Dad.”

  “You mother wants me to tell you to come home.” Her father’s gruff voice held a hint of weary amusement. “Of course, I know damned well you’re going to do whatever you want, just like you have since you were six years old. Can you just promise you’ll be careful?”

  “I promise I’ll be careful.”

  “Good. Now, can I talk to the policeman? Is he there with you now?”

  Hannah’s eyes widened with alarm. “Come on, Daddy, you don’t need to talk to him—”

  Across from her, one of Riley’s eyebrows ticked upward. “Your father wants to talk to me?”

  “Is that him?” Mike Cooper asked. “Hand him the phone.”

  With a deep sigh, Hannah held the phone out to Riley. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “but trust me, it’s easier just to talk to him and get it over with.”

  Riley’s lips twitched as he took the phone from her. “Hello, Mr. Cooper.”

  Hannah could hear the low rumble of her father’s voice coming from the cell phone receiver, but she couldn’t make out any words. There was no telling what he was telling Riley. She’d been present for enough pre-date lectures to know there was no way to predict what her father might say if he thought her welfare was at stake.

  “Yes, sir, I absolutely wil
l,” Riley said a few minutes later. His eyes flickered up to meet hers. “Yes, I’m beginning to realize that.”

  “What did he just say about me?” she whispered, mortified.

  “No, sir. I won’t.” Riley’s smile spread slowly. “Oh, absolutely. You can count on me.”

  “Won’t what? Count on you for what?” Hannah reached out for the phone. “Give that to me.”

  “Here she is again, sir.” Riley handed over the phone, grinning. “Didn’t get many second dates?” he whispered.

  “No,” she whispered back, before putting the phone to her ear. “Dad, I hope you didn’t embarrass me.”

  “I just made sure your cowboy cop knows that we expect you back in Alabama by the end of the week alive and in one piece.”

  “I can do that by myself. Give Mom a kiss for me and I’ll call back tomorrow.” To her horror, she felt tears burning the back of her eyes. “I need to get some sleep. Bye!”

  She wiped at the tears with the back of her hand, but they just kept coming. She turned her face away from Riley, hating that one stupid little call home had made her turn into a blubbering baby.

  She heard his boot steps moving out of the room and down the hall, no doubt to give her a little space to have a good cry without an audience. But a few seconds later, she heard him return. The bed shifted as he sat down next to her.

  “Here.” He thrust a small white handkerchief into her hand. “It’s clean.”

  She laughed and used it to wipe her eyes. “Thank you. I’m sorry to act like such a baby.”

  “It’s okay,” he assured her. “Listen, it’s been a long night, and I bet we both could use a little sleep. I’m going to make sure we’re locked up tight and then I’ll get a little shut-eye myself.”

  She twisted the handkerchief between her fingers. “I bet you don’t usually lock up, do you?”

  He looked at her. “No. Not usually.”

  “I don’t lock up at home much, either. I guess that’s craziness in a world like this, huh?” She tried to smile, but inside, she felt as if something small and innocent had died.

  The bleak understanding she saw in his eyes was cold comfort. “I guess it is.” He gave a brief nod and left the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

  RILEY SLOWLY CIRCLED the ranch house, checking doors and windows to make sure they were secure. The place was all that was left of his family ranch—the house, the stable and enough acres of land for the horses to graze and roam. His parents had wearied of the bitter Wyoming winters and the struggle to make a cattle ranch thrive when family ranches were a dying breed. So they’d retired to Arizona.

  They’d offered to let him keep more of the land, to turn the place into a guest ranch, like so many places in the state had become, but he liked his work as a cop, and Emily was dedicated to her nursing job. Plus, they’d been talking about starting a family. They couldn’t have given any time to running a dude ranch.

  So much had changed since then. His whole life, really.

  He wandered into his bedroom and sat on the edge of the old four-poster bed Emily had found at a flea market in Thermopolis. It was solid oak, battered by time and use, but she’d loved it. He was a man, and it was a bed, so he’d loved it, too.

  He’d loved her in it.

  He released a weary breath and pulled his boots off, letting them drop to the floor with two heavy thuds. Stripping off his T-shirt, he lay back on the bed and closed his eyes, trying to will himself to sleep.

  For the moment, Hannah Cooper was safe with him. Only a handful of people knew where she was going when she left the hospital—Joe, Sheriff Tanner and him. Tanner had agreed not to tell anyone else on the Teton County force.

  But secrets had a way of getting out, no matter how carefully you tried keeping them, he knew. About a year earlier, he’d seen how easily a bad man with determination and the right connections could find the person he was looking for. Joe and Jane had nearly died as a result.

  He didn’t want Hannah Cooper to die because he was sleep deprived and off his game. He was so close to finding the bastard who’d killed Emily and destroyed his life.

  He couldn’t make any mistakes.

  He pushed himself up from the bed and grabbed a fresh change of clothes from the bureau by the bed. Maybe a shower would help him relax. He started out into the hall, then backtracked to grab the Ruger pistol in its holster by his bed.

  He paused in the bathroom doorway, listening for sounds from the guest room. Everything was quiet.

  Too quiet?

  He shook off the paranoid thought and entered the bathroom. He turned on the shower to let the water warm while he undressed, then stepped into the hot spray. The drumbeat of water felt good on his tense muscles.

  Unbidden, an image popped into his mind. Hannah Cooper’s bare back, smooth and golden-brown, peeking through the ribbons of her hospital gown. The thin cotton had done little to hide her curvy hips or the soft swell of her breasts.

  He closed his eyes and pressed his head against the shower tiles, reaching down to turn the cold tap.

  HANNAH HEARD THE SHOWER cut on and wished she’d thought of it first. She’d managed a sponge bath in the hospital, but a nice hot shower seemed like sheer bliss at the moment.

  And maybe it would help her fall asleep, because lying here staring at the ceiling wasn’t getting it done.

  She sat up, lifting her hand to her brow as the room spun a little. Her equilibrium settled and she padded barefoot out of the bedroom to the kitchen just down the hall. She found a tumbler in the cabinet next to the sink and filled it with water from the tap. Leaning against the counter, she drained it quickly and turned back to the sink for a refill.

  Behind her, she heard the rattle of a door lock. Her whole body jerked with reaction. The glass slipped from her nerveless fingers and shattered in the sink.

  The door opened behind her with a creak. Cool morning air drifted inside, scattering chill bumps along her bare legs. Down the hall, the shower cut off.

  Reaching into the sink, Hannah grabbed the bottom of the broken tumbler and whirled around to face the intruder, holding the jagged glass in front of her.

  A tall, slim man with raven-black hair and dark eyes stared back at her, his mouth open with what looked like genuine surprise. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Don’t take another step!” Hannah said firmly as he started toward her.

  He held up his hands and froze in place.

  Down the hall, the bathroom door opened, slamming back against the wall. Riley burst into the kitchen, wearing nothing but a dark-blue towel and carrying a Ruger. He swept Hannah behind him and turned to face the intruder.

  “Geez, cowboy, dial it down a notch,” the dark-haired man drawled.

  Riley’s shoulders slumped, and he dropped the Ruger to his side. “Jack.”

  “Jack?” Hannah asked.

  “Jack.” The dark-haired man peeked over Riley’s shoulder and waggled his fingers at her.

  Riley laid the gun on the counter and stepped aside. He waved at Jack. “Hannah, this is Jack, my brother-in-law.”

  Jane had told her that Riley was an only child, so Jack must be…

  “Emily’s brother,” Jack added, slanting a look at Riley.

  Riley’s lips pressed to a thin line. “I thought you were in Texas these days.”

  “Yeah, well, Texas had about all of Jack Drummond it could handle.” Jack smiled wickedly at Hannah, flashing a pair of dimples Hannah was sure had broken more than one heart in Texas. Then he looked at Riley, his smile fading. When he next spoke, there was a dark undercurrent in his voice. “So, Riley—you’ve moved on, I see.”

  Riley looked at Hannah, his eyes dark with pain. “Had to happen some time. This is Hannah Cooper. My new girlfriend.”

  Hannah dropped the broken glass she’d been holding.

  Chapter Five

  “Don’t move,” Riley said quickly, putting out a warning hand toward her. “You’re barefooted.”

&n
bsp; She met his urgent gaze, trying to regain her mental balance. Had he really just stormed in here, wearing nothing but a blue towel, and told his brother-in-law that she was his new girlfriend?

  What the hell was he thinking?

  A droplet of water slid down the side of his neck and pooled briefly in the hollow of his throat before trickling over the muscles of his chest. Hannah licked her lips and dragged her gaze away to meet Jack Drummond’s dark scrutiny.

  Now that her initial panic had subsided, she saw that Riley’s brother-in-law was only a little older than she, no more than thirty. His sun-bronzed skin was smile-lined, as if he laughed a lot, although at the moment, the pained look in his eyes made her stomach hurt.

  “I guess I shouldn’t have just sprung the news on you like that, Jack. I wanted to be a little more sure where things were heading—” He shot Hannah a look full of pleading, as if begging her to play along with his story.

  She cleared her throat. “I told him he should call you and give you a heads-up.” Her tone was more tart than she’d intended. “Small-town gossip. Things get around fast. But you know how he likes to do things his own way.”

  Jack crossed slowly to the kitchen table, his boots crunching over the shards from the glass she’d dropped. He sank into the nearest chair. “How long has it been going on?”

  Hannah shot Riley another look. How was she supposed to answer that? They didn’t have their stories straight yet.

  “Let me get a broom and sweep this up.” Riley disappeared down the hall, returning with a broom. He swept up the glass around her feet, clearing a path to the door. “Go get dressed and get some shoes on. I’ll let Jack in on what’s going on.” He moved so close that she could feel the steamy heat of his damp skin. He smelled good, like fresh air and a hint of pine. Her hands curled into fists.

  She tamped down the urge to bury her nose in his neck to breathe in more of that heady scent. “And then you’ll let me in on it?” she added under her breath, soft enough that Jack couldn’t hear.

  He answered with an apologetic look and a quick gesture toward the guest bedroom.