He glared at her. For a moment it was a showdown. He was the first to look away. “All right, Cara,” he said resignedly. “I’m not the only one around here who wants the inside scoop. If your story is as good as I suspect it will be, then you’ll get your promotion. Editor in Chief.”
LEANING HIS ELBOWS on his desk, Mitch rubbed his eyes with thumb and forefinger. He couldn’t remember a more hectic time in his life. At least he now had an office to himself to work on it all—and to get his head straight. But it had all happened so fast.
Most important for the moment, he was supervising the case against Della Santoro, making sure evidence was collected and handled carefully for her prosecution. This was the most important case of his life.
But that wasn’t all. Not only was the other most senior deputy, Hurley Zeller, in custody, but, embarrassed about everything that had happened under his watch, Sheriff Ben Wilson had tendered his resignation to the Mustang County Commissioners.
No sense in whipping the guy when he was down, so Mitch had made peace with him, more or less—apologizing for trying to nail him for sabotaging his own department’s work, taking bribes, murder…and all that jazz. Ben had gruffly accepted it.
Mitch was now the acting sheriff. And with all the good publicity the arrest of Della Santoro had gained for the county and the department, he’d been told by more than one commissioner that his election as the next sheriff was in the bag.
For a guy like him, accustomed to doing things on his own, it would take some getting used to.
A day and a half had passed since all hell had broken loose. Since Cara had dutifully called to tell him she was disobeying his orders and, before he could head off the horror in front of his eyes, gotten herself shot. She was all right now. He’d kept track of her progress in the hospital, though he hadn’t gone to see her since that first terrible night.
He’d left a door open a crack with her boss, Beauford Jennings, that he was willing to have Cara, and no one else, interview him for his perspective on what happened. But he hadn’t heard from her.
The phone rang. He grabbed it. “Steele here.”
“Sheriff, this is Deputy Greglets. The lab in Ft. Worth called with a report—” No big surprise. Deputy Stephanie Greglets related that the fingerprints on the book found at Nancy Wilks’s included not only hers, but Della Santoro’s, too.
“Thanks, Stephanie.” Mitch hung up.
Stephanie had apologized abjectly for not keeping Mitch informed about her own clandestine investigation of Hurley Zeller. She hadn’t told the sheriff, either, for ambition kept her from being a team player. Her seduction by Hurley had been an unfortunate slip, but she’d heard enough from him to be unsure who to trust. She’d only let some high-ranking officers in the Dallas Texas Rangers office in on what she was doing. Alone.
Since Mitch had been conducting his own surreptitious investigation, he’d had to forgive her.
Now she was behaving totally by the book, and Mitch felt sure he would have her loyalty. And she was, above all, a damn fine junior deputy.
The next call was from Jerry Jennings of the Dallas News. Grinning, Mitch declined to give a statement. “A local reporter, Ms. Cara Hamilton, has the exclusive on this one.” He hung up.
Each time the phone rang like that he grabbed it, hoping it was Cara. Damn, he was like some fool schoolkid. He could just call her. He would call her, later. Not to say goodbye, since Mustang Valley was too small for that. They were bound to run into each other now and then. She’d probably want to interview him in the future about other cases, too, and—
It rang again. “Steele here.”
“Mitchell?”
Oh, Lord. It wasn’t the voice he’d been hoping for but another he’d craved, one he’d expected never to hear again. “Mother?”
Sunshine Steele had seen something on television network news, she told him, suggesting that her beloved husband Sheriff Martin Steele had been framed and murdered.
“It’s true, Mother,” Mitch said.
He heard her sigh.
“I knew it.” And then she asked, “You’re all right?”
“Fine. And you?” He knew she’d fled the pain and publicity by returning to where she’d grown up, near Oklahoma’s border with Texas.
“Yes, but I’d like to come see you, for a visit. If it’s all right with you.”
“Sure. Just say when.” His heart swelled in anticipation. Who would have thought a grown man would get so excited about the prospect of seeing his mother?
They talked awhile longer. She gave him a phone number where he could reach her, and they exchanged promises to call each other soon.
After he hung up, Mitch felt as if his grin would split his face clean in half.
He was still smiling when the phone rang yet again. He’d need a secretary, at this rate, if he wanted to get any work done. But hot damn, his mother had called. He answered once more, “Steele here.”
“Hamilton here.”
His smile froze. “Hi, Cara,” he said softly. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I was shot. But I’ll live. So how come you only came to see me in the hospital when I was drugged?”
“You’re out of the hospital now?”
“Yes. The wound wasn’t that bad, and I’m all patched up now.” Mitch also suspected that the brave, stubborn woman had refused to stay down for long. “Beau said you’d promised me an interview,” she continued. “On the record. Are you ready to make good on it?”
“Sure.” He forced himself to sound casual. “This time I think I have more information than you do, so you won’t be able to accuse me of stealing your research and using it.”
“We’ll see about that.”
To his surprise, she insisted on meeting him in half an hour, at the same place where she’d been shot, outside town on the road to the Four Aces and Bar JR, the Rawlins family ranches.
There was a lot he had to do here, but nothing was more important than seeing Cara again. Making sure she wasn’t lying, that she was fine.
And maybe then he’d see whether there was any hope for the ridiculous idea that had formed inside him.
He was a practiced loner. Never had any intention of getting close to another human being.
But Cara Hamilton had broken through that barrier, at least for a while. She’d made it clear, though, that they were partners for this case, and now it was solved. The fact that they’d made love was incidental to her.
And if he loved her…?
Well, tough. It looked as though he’d have to shore that damned barrier right back up again.
He’d start by seeing her, talking to her, making it clear to his pitiful self that alone was the only way to be.
“HI, SHERIFF,” Cara said when Mitch got out of the white Sheriff’s Department vehicle he parked behind hers on the dusty shoulder to the narrow road. As he strode toward her, she held herself in check, admiring every plane of his face, the way his dark hair blew slightly askew in the soft breeze. Handsome. Aloof. Sexy.
Lawman lover, sang something deep inside her. “Cool it,” she whispered to herself.
Only, she didn’t cool it. She threw herself into his arms and pulled his head down to plant a big kiss on his lips. He didn’t let go of her easily. In fact, the kiss lengthened until she was breathless.
But then he released her completely and stepped back. That told her a lot. He didn’t want her.
But when had Cara Hamilton been one to give up?
“That was to thank you for saving my life,” she said brightly.
“You’re welcome.”
“Let’s walk along the road, okay, while I interview you?” She didn’t have to tell him what she had in mind just yet. And if it failed? She’d deal with it then.
The questions she asked were probably ones he’d anticipated. She took notes on a pad of paper as they walked, and recorded it, too.
She’d have the recording of his voice to listen to in the future, if nothing el
se…
Concentrate! she ordered herself.
“So when I called to tell you I was going to the property the book said was once Shotgun Sally’s, what did you do?” she asked.
He’d dropped everything else and set out at once after her. He spoke calmly, yet she thought she sensed something emotional when he described that aborted cell phone call she’d made. Caller ID had told him who’d phoned him, but he’d heard only muffled voices, then silence.
“I wondered if you’d been killed right then.” Was his voice shaking? She would have to listen to this part of the tape later.
He then told her how he’d driven along the highway a little past where the two-lane road cut off, then parked and hiked in, weapon drawn. That was when he’d found all hell had broken loose.
Della Santoro was holding a gun on Cara. And Roger Rosales was trying to flee the scene.
Mitch told her that Roger now was spilling all he knew in exchange for immunity from prosecution. Mitch had supported his plea, since he’d fled instead of threatening Cara further. And though he’d been in on the conspiracy from the beginning, he’d not killed anyone himself.
“I doubt Roger knows it,” Cara said, “but I’ve spoken with some representatives of Ranger Corporation back east. I’ve promised to do what I can to get the media to ease up on blaming the entire company, if they’ll continue work on the theme park. I’d love to have something like that here, focusing on local legends, and it would be great for Mustang County’s economy.”
“You bet,” Mitch agreed. She basked in his admiring grin.
She asked a few more questions. By then, they’d gone a ways down the road and reached the top of a hill. The vista from here was great, displaying rolling landscape punctuated by groves of junipers and vast ranchland.
“This was where Shotgun Sally lived,” Cara told Mitch.
She’d called Lindsey and e-mailed Kelly, who would be home soon, and told them both about all that had gone on—especially her new insight about Shotgun Sally and the location of her family’s property. She couldn’t wait to share it all with them in person.
That would happen with Lindsey the very next day. They’d scheduled lunch and a long catch-up chat, though Cara had hardly been able to keep her friend from dashing to her side right away to make sure she really was all right.
Cara really missed Lindsey and Kelly. Once Kelly was back from her honeymoon, they’d all spend more time together, she’d see to it.
Just like Shotgun Sally had said, “Men folk, well, we need ’em, of course, but gal friends are the real treasure.”
Speaking of Sally…
“I’ve read the copy of that book carefully now,” she continued, “and I’m convinced of it. Of course, I don’t have an expert like Della to authenticate the book now, but it contains all the Sally legends I grew up with.” She looked up at Mitch, who stood by her side. “I really admire that woman.”
“So I gather,” he said. His head turned as if he were scanning the landscape. “Do you think this is the area where she hid out with…what was his name? Zachary?”
“Her lawman lover? Absolutely.” At her words, Mitch’s gaze turned to her, and she thought she saw desire there mirroring what she felt for him.
She smiled and grabbed his hand. “Do you know what the legends say Sally did right around here?”
“No,” Mitch said. He didn’t pull his hand away. That was a good sign.
“There are conflicting stories, of course, as with most things describing Sally, but the one I like best was that she survived the ambush by the guy who was trying to steal her family land. By then she’d already saved Zachary, who’d turned around and saved her.”
Mitch nodded.
“Well, Zachary was a bit of a loner, and he seemed inclined to let Sally get back to her wild investigative reporting while he did his best to save Mustang County from the bad guys. She, on the other hand, had fallen hard for him. And she wasn’t the shy type. So, right here, she took his hand and said, ‘Okay, Zachary, it’s like this. You and me are going to get hitched and live right here together forever. We got a deal?’”
Of course, there was another story where she’d held a shotgun on Zachary to get him to marry her, but Cara considered that one exaggerated—and wrong. The Sally she loved wouldn’t have threatened her lawman lover. Making demands—well, that was another story.
“And Zachary said yes,” she finished.
“No kidding?” Mitch’s smile was amused. And something more? Surely that wasn’t hope she saw there. “Did they get hitched and live right here forever?”
“That’s what I think.” She took Mitch’s other hand and held on tight, since what she was about to do could be the most foolish—and most wonderful—thing she had ever done in her life. “You know I like to imitate Sally wherever I can.”
She sucked in her breath at Mitch’s nod. He looked more solemn now. Did he know what was coming? Was he going to try to let her down gently, tell her where to go?
Time to find out.
“So,” Cara said, wishing her voice sounded more certain. “Here goes. Okay, Mitch, it’s like this. You and me are going to get hitched and live right here together forever. We got a deal?”
She watched his eyes. They gentled, even as their golden highlights glinted in the sun. “How about if we live in town, since this area’s going to become a memorial to your Sally?”
Cara laughed aloud. “Was that a yes?”
“That was a yes.” He bent down and gave her the best, hottest and most promising kiss yet.
A while later, her hand snugly in Mitch’s, Cara looked down at the land where Shotgun Sally once had lived. Thank you, she said silently. For everything.
Four people had died, and that could never be fixed. Even so, Cara felt that, like Sally, she had helped to mete out the Texas law of the West on her own terms.
As Mitch and she turned to walk back to their cars, Cara thought she heard something. The breeze stirring the junipers?
As she looked into the thicket, her eyes widened.
Hallucination? Who knew?
But there was a shadowy buckskin-clad woman with a newspaper under one arm and the other tucked into that of a tall man wearing a hat and a badge. They smiled at Cara, waved, then disappeared into the woods.
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Linda O. Johnston for her contribution to the SHOTGUN SALLYS series.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-3231-0
LAWFUL ENGAGEMENT
Copyright © 2004 by Harlequin Books S.A.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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Table of Contents
Letter to Reader
Title Page
About the Author
Books by Linda O. Johnston
Cast of Characters
Acknowledgment
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Copyright
Lawful Engagement - Linda O Johnston Page 22