Branded by the Sheriff

by Delores Fossen

  “This could end up lasting all night,” the Ranger reminded him.

  Faith had considered that, briefly. What she hadn’t considered was staying in the house alone with Beck. That suddenly didn’t seem like a smart idea. But she couldn’t let something like attraction get in the way of catching the person responsible.

  “Good luck,” Sgt. Caldwell said, heading for the door. He turned off the light in the entry as well and waited until Beck and Faith stepped into the shadows before he walked out. She immediately went to the door, locked it and set the security alarm.

  “I’ll talk to my dad,” Beck promised. “I’ll see if he repeated any information he got from the taxi driver. Plus, the rocks and foot casting are still at the crime lab. Either might give us some evidence.”

  “If it’s Nicole who threw those rocks, I intend to file charges for that and the empty gun incident.” Faith couldn’t let the woman continue her harassment. Of course, if it was Nicole, there was a problem with the size-ten shoeprint that’d been found. Though maybe that print had been left earlier by someone not involved in this.

  “If it’s Nicole, I’ll arrest her.”

  Faith caught his gaze. And saw the determination there. The pain, too. She also saw concern for her, so she thought it best if she stepped away from him.

  Keeping in the shadows, she walked into the living room. Someone had taken the sheets from the furniture, and the sofa and recliner had a stack of bedding and pillows on them. This was where she and Beck were supposed to sleep. If sleep was even possible.

  Beck would only be a few feet away from her.

  With that overdue apology out of the way, there didn’t seem to be so many old obstacles standing between them. Too bad. Because it made her remember a time when she’d lusted after him.

  Who was she kidding?

  She was still lusting after him. At least she was when she wasn’t riled at him.

  He followed her into the living room and caught onto her arm. The contact surprised her so much that she jumped. Faith reeled around, expecting him to do God knows what, but he merely repositioned her farther away from the window. He let go of her quickly, but then looked down at his hand as if that brief touch had caused him to feel something more.

  “You might as well just go ahead and slap me,” he said.

  “For what?” she asked cautiously.

  “For what I’m about to say.”

  Oh. With both curiosity and some fear, she considered the possibilities of what he might say. Maybe he wanted a discussion about the attraction. Or to discuss something about the touch that was still tingling her arm. Maybe he even intended to kiss her. Could that have been wishful thinking on her part?

  “What?” she prompted when he didn’t continue. Mercy. Her voice had way too much breath in it. She sounded like a lovesick schoolgirl.

  “It has to do with the conversation I had with Ross Harland.”

  Oh, that. Faith hated that she’d anticipated anything not dealing with the case.

  Beck moved closer to her again. Too close. “He was so adamant about not being Aubrey’s father that I figured he was telling the truth about you two not having had sex.” His voice was smooth and easy. No pressure, no expectations. He shrugged. “You can slap me for asking, and I doubt you’ll answer, but at least tell me if Ross Harland might have anything to do with the murders.”

  That easy drawl took away some of the sting. “He doesn’t.”

  He nodded. That was it. Beck’s only reaction. He even seemed to believe her, which he should, since it was the truth.

  The silence came. It was suddenly so quiet she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears. Seconds passed. Very slowly. While Beck and she just stood there and stared at each other.

  “Is Ross Harland gay?” Beck finally asked.

  She had no idea why that made her laugh, but it did. Maybe because Beck had lost the battle with curiosity after all. “No. He’s not gay. And I don’t know whether to be angry or flattered that you’d want to know so much about my sex life.”

  “Be flattered,” he said, his voice all sex and sin.

  She was. Flattered and suddenly very warm.

  He leaned in, letting his mouth come very close to hers. Breath met breath. Her heart kicked into overdrive. So did her body.

  She knew she should say something flippant and move away. But she didn’t. “Beck,” she warned.

  But it sounded more like an invitation than anything else.

  He didn’t back away. Didn’t heed her warning. He moved in for the kiss. His mouth brushed against hers. It was gentle. Nonthreatening. No demands.

  It hit her like a boulder.

  Faith felt the jolt. New sensations mixed with old ones that she thought she would never feel again. Leave it to Beck and his mouth to accomplish the impossible.

  She leaned into him. Deepening the kiss with the pressure. He slid his hand around her neck, easing her closer. Inch by inch. Slowly, as if to give her a chance to escape. Beck was treating her like fine crystal.

  And that kiss was melting her.

  Faith heard herself moan. She felt the strength of his body. The fire was instant. The impact was so hard that she nearly lost her breath. She’d apparently already lost her mind. But then she broke the intimate contact and stepped back.

  “I don’t kiss a lot,” she said, the words rushing out.

  He cocked his head to the side. “Well, you should because you’re good at it.”

  “No. I’m not.” She didn’t know what to do with her hands so she folded them over her chest.

  His easy expression faded a bit. By degrees. Until it was replaced by confusion.

  “I like to kiss,” she clarified. Well, she liked to kiss Beck, anyway. “But kissing leads to other things. Like sex. Which we aren’t going to have.”

  He lifted his left eyebrow. “You’re right. Our relationship is too complicated for sex.”

  “Yet you still kissed me.”

  He shook his head, cursed under his breath and dragged his hand through his hair. “I don’t know why. Maybe because I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since I saw you naked in the shower. But I know that kiss can’t go any further than it just did.”

  She blinked. “You honestly believe that?”

  “I have to believe it. We can’t deal with the alternative right now. Aubrey’s safety has to come first. Then this investigation. Once we catch this killer, then we can…talk. Or kiss. Or do something we’ll really regret like have great sex.”

  But he waved off that last part. Too bad she couldn’t wave off the effect it had on her body. The image of them having sex sizzled through her.

  “So this is on hold,” he continued. “Unless there’s something you want to tell me now.”

  She wanted to. But it wasn’t that easy. The truth would give him some answers. More questions, too. And it would open Pandora’s box.

  Beck was right. Aubrey’s safety came first.

  Faith was about to repeat that, but a blast tore through the room.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Someone had fired a shot at them.

  The moment the sound of the bullet registered, Beck reacted.

  He hooked his arm around Faith’s waist and dragged her to the floor. She was already headed in that direction anyway, and they landed on the pile of sheets that’d been removed from the furniture. That cushioned their fall a little, but the new position didn’t take them out of the line of fire.

  Another bullet came at them and slammed into the wall just above their heads.

  Hell.

  Beck drew his weapon. “We have to move.”

  But where and how?

  His initial assessment of the situation wasn’t good. There’d been no broken glass, and that meant no broken windows. And no tripped motion detector, either. So the shooter had to be more than twenty feet away from the house and was literally shooting through the wall.

  Probably with a high-powered rifle.

&nb
sp; But it was the accuracy of the shot that caused Beck’s stomach to knot. Both bullets had come entirely too close, especially considering there was no way the shooter could have a visual on them.

  So, was the guy pinpointing them through some kind of eavesdropping device or had he managed to rig surveillance cameras that had given him an inside view of the house?

  The third shot slammed into the wooden floor next to them and sent splinters flying. That was it. They couldn’t stay there any longer.

  “Let’s go.” Beck latched on to Faith’s arm and got them running out of the living room. He needed to put another wall between them and the shooter.

  Staying low, they raced toward the kitchen, the nearest room, but the shooter stayed in pursuit, and the bullets continued. Each blast followed them, tracking them as they made their way across the living room.

  Beck shoved Faith ahead of him so that his body would give her some small measure of protection. It wasn’t enough. They needed a barrier, something wide and thick. He spotted the fridge. It was outdated and fairly small, but he hoped the metal would hold back those bullets. He hauled Faith in front of it and shoved her to the linoleum floor.

  The bullets didn’t stop.

  They tore through the kitchen drywall and shattered the tiny window over the kitchen sink. That set off the alarm, and the soft beeps began to pulse through the room. If the shooter moved to the back of the house, they’d be sitting ducks with that broken window.

  “Call Sgt. Caldwell,” Beck instructed Faith. He handed her his cell phone and kept his gun ready just in case the shooter decided to bash through a window or door and try to come into the house.

  Beside him, he felt Faith trembling, and her voice trembled, too, as she made the call to the Ranger and told him that someone was shooting at them from the front of the house. She asked him to come immediately.

  Faith had no sooner made that request when the angle of the shots changed.

  The next two rounds came right at the refrigerator. The bullets slammed into the metal but thankfully didn’t exit out the front. The accuracy of the shots, however, told Beck that the gunman wasn’t just using a high-powered, long-range rifle but that it was likely equipped with some kind of thermal scope or camera.

  That thermal device could be a deadly addition.

  It was no doubt picking up their body heat, and that heat had given away their exact location. That’s why the shots were aimed so closely at them.

  Faith ended her call with the Ranger. Even though the overhead light wasn’t on, there was enough moonlight for Beck to see the terror on her face.

  “Aubrey,” she said, flipping open the phone again. She frantically stabbed in the numbers, and a moment later over the deafening blasts, she said, “Marita, is Aubrey okay?”

  Beck hadn’t been truly afraid until that moment. Faith was silent, and he watched her expression, praying that the gunfire had been only for them and a second shooter hadn’t gone to his house to make a simultaneous attack there.

  “They’re fine,” she finally said. Faith let out a hoarse sob. Fear mixed with relief.

  Beck shared that relief. For just a moment. And then the anger took over. How dare this shooter put Faith through this. This was a blatant attempt to kill her, but the fear of harm to her child was far, far worse.

  “I’ll get this guy,” Beck promised her.

  The shots stopped.

  Just like that, there were no more blasts. The only sounds were their sawing breaths, the hum of the central heating and the beeps from the security alarm.

  “Is it over?” Faith asked.

  He caught onto her arm to stop her from trying to get up. “Maybe.”

  Beck left it at that, but her widened eyes let him know that she understood. This could be a temporary cease-fire, a lure to draw them out away from the fridge.

  Or it could mean the shooter was moving to the back of the house.

  Where he’d have a direct shot to kill them.

  “We’ll stay put,” he said, not at all sure of his decision. It was a gamble either way.

  “I want to go to Aubrey,” Faith mumbled.

  “I know. So do I.”

  Waiting was hell, but this was the best way he knew to keep Faith alive.

  His cell phone rang, the sound slicing through the room. Faith quickly answered it.

  “Sgt. Caldwell’s nearby,” she relayed to him a moment later. “He’ll turn on his sirens and an infrared scanner.”

  The sirens started to sound almost immediately. They would almost certainly scare off a shooter, if the shooter was still around, that is. But maybe, just maybe, the infrared would help Caldwell spot the shooter so he could be apprehended and arrested.

  Beck wanted to be outside, to help with the search. He wanted to be the one to catch this piece of slime. But he couldn’t leave Faith because the shooter could use that opportunity to go after her.

  So he waited. It seemed endless. But it was probably only a couple of minutes before the phone rang again. This time, Beck grabbed it and answered it.

  “It’s Caldwell,” the Ranger said.

  “Did you get him?” Beck snapped.

  “No. Nothing showed up on the infrared.”

  Beck groaned. This couldn’t happen. They couldn’t let this guy get away.

  “I’m taking Faith back to my house to stay with the Ranger there and the bodyguard,” he told the Ranger. “And then I’m going after this SOB.”

  * * *

  FAITH CHECKED THE TIME on the screen of her cell phone. It was ten o’clock. Not that late, but Beck had been out looking for the shooter for well over an hour.

  Each minute had seemed like an eternity.

  She paced in the family room but kept her movements light so she wouldn’t disturb Marita and Aubrey, who were already in bed and hopefully sleeping. Aubrey certainly was. Faith had verified that just five minutes earlier when she peeked in on them in the guest room. Marita had her eyes closed, but Faith doubted the woman was truly asleep.

  The shooting had put them all on edge.

  Tracy was on the sofa, reading. The Ranger, Sgt. McKinney, was standing guard in the kitchen. Everything was quiet, but the tension was thick enough to taste.

  Where was Beck? And why hadn’t he checked in?

  The silence was driving her crazy. She was imagining all sorts of things. Like he was lying somewhere shot. Or that he was being held hostage.

  Because she was so caught up in those nightmarish thoughts, the sound of the phone ringing caused her to jump. “Hello?” Faith said as quickly as she could get the phone to her ear.

  Silence.

  That brought on some more horrible thoughts, and then she checked the caller ID. The person had blocked their number, and there was no reason for Beck to have done that.

  “Who is this?” she asked.

  Her alarmed tone obviously alerted Tracy, who got to her feet. She put her hand on the butt of the pistol that rested in her shoulder holster.

  “It’s me,” the caller finally said.

  Faith had no trouble recognizing that voice.

  Nolan Wheeler.

  Her stomach dropped to her knees from the shock of hearing him, but she welcomed this call. It was the first contact she’d had in years with a man she thought was a cold-blooded killer.

  “Nolan,” Faith said aloud so that Tracy would know what was going on. Tracy reacted. She went racing into the kitchen to tell Sgt. McKinney. Hopefully, they could do something to trace this call and pinpoint Nolan’s location. “Did you take shots at me tonight?”

  “Me? Of course not.” He used his normal cocky tone, but that didn’t mean he was telling the truth. “I called about Sherry.”

  “What about her? She’s dead. And I think you might be responsible.”

  “Not a chance. I didn’t want her dead. She owed me money. Lots of it.”

  Faith was instantly skeptical. “How did that happen? You’ve never been one to have extra cash to lend anyone.�
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  “I didn’t exactly lend it to her. She stole my car and left a note, saying she was in a bind. She needed cash and needed it fast.”

  “Did she say why she needed money?” Faith asked.

  “To gussy up.” Nolan snickered. “Said she had to impress somebody, and she needed to look her best and that she’d pay me back. Killing her wouldn’t get me the money so I’ve got no motive.”

  “What about the house? Did you think you could inherit it? Because you can’t. I made a will, and there’s no way you can ever inherit anything that’s mine.”

  He made a tsk-tsk sound. “But I can inherit what’s mine. Well, what was Sherry’s anyway. Half of the place should have been hers after your mother was killed. Guess what, Faith? I want that half.”

  She fought to hang on to her temper. Flying off the handle now wouldn’t solve anything. Besides, she wanted to give the Ranger more time to locate Nolan.

  “Sherry and you separated eighteen months before her death,” Faith reminded him. Even though their marriage was common law, Nolan probably did have a right to half of whatever Sherry owned. “And after the hell you put her through, you don’t deserve anything from her estate.”

  “In the eyes of the law, I do. And you know the law, don’t you?”

  “I know it well enough that you won’t see a penny.”

  “Oh, I want more than pennies,” Nolan gloated. “A lot more. So here’s the deal. You give me a hundred thousand dollars, and I’ll go away.”

  Oh, mercy. “That’s more than the place is worth, and besides, I don’t have that kind of money.”

  “Then get it. Bye, Faith.”

  “Wait!” she said in a louder voice than she’d anticipated. This call couldn’t end yet. “I need to know about Darin. Have you seen him?”

  Nolan took his time answering. “He’s around.”

  That was chilling, and despite the simple answer, it sounded like some kind of threat. “Where?”