by Becca Van
He’d thought that he, Coop, and Jasmine had a chance at something special, too, but the FBI profiler was pricklier than a porcupine and hadn’t given them the time of day. In fact, she seemed to go out of her way to keep her distance from them.
Each time he and Cooper were caught staring at her she scowled at them and tried to stare them down before turning her back on them. He had been sure that she’d felt the sparks between them on their initial meeting, but was beginning to think he’d been wrong.
She been in Cody for just on five weeks now and avoided them as if they had the plague. However, there had been times when he’d caught her glancing at him and Coop with such wistful sadness in her eyes his heart ached. That wasn’t the only thing he’d seen. She had dark smudges beneath her eyes as if she hadn’t slept or had trouble sleeping, and there were shadows buried in the depths of her blue orbs.
Tanner was beginning to think that something bad had happened to Jasmine Urban to make her wary of the opposite sex, and though he hoped he was wrong, he was determined to find out what was going on with the FBI agent.
* * * *
Coop ignored Tanner’s wistful sigh as he skimmed through the files on his desk. When he got to Anthony Wood’s file, he shoved it aside, but there was something not right about the guy, so he picked it up and read it from front to back. Again. He had no idea why he kept coming back to this file, but something in his gut wouldn’t let him leave it alone.
The guy had just lost his wife, and even though he’d been devastated and cried a bucket of tears and showed the appropriate reactions of someone in mourning, Coop didn’t buy it.
He’d run the guy through the police database and hadn’t found anything, but that just made his alarm bells ring louder. He was going to have to put his feelings aside and ask Jasmine if she’d run the man’s name through the FBI database.
Just as the door to the office down the hallway opened, an epiphany hit him upside the head.
Cooper shut everything and everyone else out as he brought up the births, deaths, and marriages website. As soon as the page he wanted loaded, he entered Anthony Wood’s name. It took a few minutes for him to filter through all the people with the same name until there were only three left on the list. He vetoed two until he was left with one.
He knew that he was on to something when he saw that Anthony Wood had changed his name by submitting a petition to the Equal Justice Family Law Court in Wyoming. He’d been given the name Billy Bush at birth.
No wonder the guy changed his name, Coop thought. He would have changed his name if he’d been given a moniker like that, too.
Cooper brought up the marriages page and entered first one name and then the other. There was no marriage registered under the name of Anthony Wood or Billy Bush. He tried searching the supposed wife’s name, but there was no marriage for a Lucy Wood in the county of Cody or the whole state of Wyoming.
Interesting.
Coop glanced over at Jasmine. Her fingers were flying over the keyboard, and though he was envious of her typing skills, he was more in awe of her beauty. She had long dark red hair she usually wore in a ponytail. He’d never seen her with it down, but even up, the end of her tresses came to the small of her back. He imagined it would reach her ass if she let it down. Her face was in perfect symmetry, and her skin was a creamy white. He imagined she would burn easy if she stayed too long out in the sun. What amazed him was that her eyebrows were a light blonde color, as were the long eyelashes that framed those gorgeous blue orbs, and that made him wonder if the red came out of a bottle. What woman in her right mind would dye blonde hair red? He thought women liked blonde hair. He heard a few members of the opposite sex lamenting their hair color as they admired blondes walking past them on the street. He also knew a lot of guys gravitated toward blondes. Cooper didn’t care one way or the other what a woman’s eye or hair color was.
He liked the opposite sex as long as they weren’t crying or hysterical, or trying to use their wiles on him. He’d had enough of those vamp types when he was young and stupid. As far as he was concerned, women of all ages and shapes should be protected. He didn’t care if they were capable of looking after themselves or not. Women were special. Most wore their hearts on the sleeves and were loyal, but if you ever did them wrong, look out.
He’d seen first-hand how vindictive the opposite sex could be when one his cousins had found out her boyfriend of the time had been two-timing her. He’d wanted to go and beat the shit out of the bastard, but Yvonne hadn’t let him. However, she’d had the last laugh. After dumping the prick’s ass, she’d befriended the other woman and then revealed what had been going on. Yvonne and the other woman had then spread rumors about their small hometown. The boyfriend had owned and run a hardware store. It had taken all of six months for him to go bankrupt since his customers had dwindled down to none. The prick had left town with his tail between his legs and never been sighted again.
He wondered if Jasmine had been duped by a man, but he didn’t think so.
She turned her head and met his gaze. Cooper felt that blue-eyed gaze all the way to his soul and had to concentrate on not visibly shivering when goose bumps broke out over his skin.
“What the fuck are you gawking—”
Cooper didn’t give her time to finish her insulting question as he cut her off. “I just ran Anthony Wood through vital statistics. He was born Billy Bush. He changed his name through the courts. There is no record of Anthony or Billy Bush marrying a Lucy someone or any other woman.”
Jasmine stood and hurried over to his desk, coming up behind him. He glanced at Tanner to see his friend was on the move, too, and brought up both screens. He flipped from one to the other, giving the agent and his friend time to read each fact.
“Can you print that out for me, please?” Jasmine asked as she stepped back and then walked back to her desk. When she sat down there was no expression on her face whatsoever, but her face was a lot paler than normal.
He wondered what the fuck had drained all the blood from her face.
Chapter Two
Jasmine couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought to run the resort employees’ names through vital statistics. The guilt roiling in her gut was so bad she felt physically ill. She began to wonder if she was losing her edge. She’d worked so hard to get where she was, but maybe the long hours were beginning to take a toll. Add in the fact she barely slept and never, ever relaxed and she wondered if she was beginning to burn out.
When Cooper brought her the printed information she’d asked for, she reached out and grabbed the edge of the paper without meeting his gaze, giving him a nod of thanks, but she had to meet those intent, knowledgeable gray eyes when he didn’t release the pages.
“Thank you.” She nearly sighed with relief when Cooper released the pages. She lowered her head back to her laptop, but the man didn’t move other than to cross his arms over his chest. Every part of her body sat up and took notice of the intoxicating masculine scent wafting from his skin, but that wasn’t all. No, her traitorous body decided it liked feeling the heat radiating from his big, brawny, manly frame when her nipples hardened beneath her shirt and bra. It took every bit of her self-control to not squirm in her seat when her clit began to throb and her panties dampened. Jasmine saved what she’d been working on and began to shove papers into her laptop bag.
“What are you doing?” Coop’s gravelly voice sent shivers of delight racing up her spine, but she didn’t let them show.
“I have a few things I need to do.”
“I thought you’d want to run those names through the FBI database.”
“I’ll do it later. I have somewhere I need to be.” Jasmine shut down her computer before shoving it into the carry bag. As soon as she had everything, she rose, skirted Cooper without touching him, and hurried out. She’d decided it would be easier to dye her hair rather than wear a wig if she was going to be bait to a serial killer. If he was able to get close enough to touch her, he would kn
ow as soon as he saw her that her hair was fake. Misha would be the one wearing the wig since she wouldn’t be the target after Jasmine had changed her hair color.
“Will you be back later?” Tanner asked just as she got to the automatic doors.
Jasmine paused in the doorway but didn’t look back over her shoulder at the two big men behind her. She didn’t want them seeing her attraction to them in her eyes, even though she tried to hide the way they made her body react. She shook her head and left.
She’d learned to keep her feelings and body language contained, but nobody was perfect, and she was worried that, one day in the not-too-distant-future, one or both of them would realize she was drawn to them as much as they seemed to be drawn to her. However, she never let emotions rule her. Listening to her heart would only end up with her in trouble and getting hurt. Jasmine always used the brain she was born with and thought things through logically without a hint of emotion to sway her decisions. Just because her body had decided to wake up for the first time in her life didn’t mean she was going to do anything about it. She was a creature of habit and wasn’t about to change the way she ruled her life. Especially now.
Jasmine found the perfect wig. It was the same shade of red she’d dyed her own blonde hair and nearly the same length. She set in on the counter as she glanced about the empty salon.
“Quiet day?” she asked the young girl manning the counter.
“No, the treatment rooms are all in use, and the rest of the afternoon is booked solid.”
“Oh.” Jasmine’s sighed with resignation. She knew she should have called first.
“Did you want a haircut?”
“No, I want my hair dyed.”
“The owner of the salon’s free. Let me check and see if she’s willing to take you on.”
Jasmine nodded and hid her smile. The way the young girl had phrased her last statement had sounded as if the owner and Jasmine were about to come to blows. She eyed the girl when she came back into view and tried to gauge her age. She was young, maybe late teens to early twenties.
“She’ll be out in a minute.” The girl gestured Jasmine forward. “If you’ll come this way.”
* * * *
Jasmine stared at herself in the bathroom mirror in her hotel room. She couldn’t believe how much having her hair, as well as her eyebrows and eyelashes, dyed black made her look like Misha. In fact, if she didn’t know herself and she had Misha standing beside her, she might think they were sisters. The shape of their eyes were different, as were their faces. Jasmine’s mouth was smaller than Misha’s, and her lower lip was fuller. Her eyes had more of a feline slant, and Misha’s were spaced a little wider apart.
Jasmine sighed and pushed her ludicrous thoughts aside. She was procrastinating, wasting time so she wouldn’t have to spend more time in the sheriffs’ house than was necessary. However, no matter how trepidatious she was, she couldn’t put off the inevitable.
She needed to get her ass moving so she could get into the sheriffs’ truck and house without being seen. Clay and Spence weren’t about to let Misha out and about on her own at all, but they still needed to play their parts to set this fucker up.
That meant that Misha needed to be seen as Jasmine, wearing the red wig and driving her rental car. After that was anyone’s guess. She just hoped that dying her hair and swapping her clothes with the other woman worked, because she wasn’t sure she could live with the guilt of another woman dying when she could have prevented it.
She grabbed the rest of her stuff from the bathroom and shoved them in her suitcase. She was packed and ready to go but wasn’t sure if she should take her bag with her or leave it for Misha to deal with. She had some of her clothes in a plastic bag for Misha to wear. After making sure she had everything, she walked back into the bathroom, the red wig in hand, and she set it down on the counter. She twisted her ponytail up into a bun and pulled the wig on over her now black hair. It was very uncomfortable, and the lining itched her sensitive skin, but there was nothing for it. Jasmine was going to have to put up with the discomfort until she was safely inside the sheriffs’ house.
She turned her head this way and that trying to see if the flat bun she’d made of her long hair was a noticeable lump under the wig, but as far as she could see, it wasn’t visible.
Jasmine shrugged and hoped that she was mistaken for Misha, close up and from a distance. She cursed Clay and Spence under her breath. They should have approached her with the bait scenario weeks ago, but more importantly, she should have thought of it herself. She wasn’t usually so slow on the uptake, but since she’d met Cooper and Tanner, her brain seemed to be on vacation. The hot glances she’d caught those two ruggedly handsome men giving her had fried her brain. Although she had to be fair to herself. She wasn’t usually in the thick of things with regards to criminals. Her job was to profile, not to stalk and capture. She was so used to guiding her fellow agents to their perps and following their lead. She hadn’t even thought about putting herself up front and center. Maybe when she’d helped closed this case she would ask her boss to use her in a more active role. She shook her head again. No, she wasn’t sure she could handle all the danger and mayhem. In fact, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could continue her current role either.
She was so damned tired some days it was hard to put one foot in front of the other. She’d been a profiler for the grand total of three years, and though she wasn’t old, some days her twenty-seven years of age felt more like eighty. She was lucky enough to have a quick mind, and she’d breezed through high school and then college by the time she was twenty-one. Because she’d been a victim in the early years of high school, and after she’d begun to recover, she’d decided to go into law in some capacity. At first, she’d thought of becoming a lawyer, but the criminology classes she’d attended had been morbidly exciting and she’d changed her major to psychology and criminology.
Once she’d used her knowledge in psychology and kicked the victim mentality to the curb at the age of twenty-two, she’d applied for a job with the feds. It had taken her two years to work her way up the proverbial ladder, and then she’d spent three years as an agent. Every case she’d worked she’d solved.
It hadn’t taken her long to earn the reputation and nickname of the “ice bitch,” but she wasn’t bothered by what other people thought of her. She was there to do a job, and she made sure she did it well. She wasn’t about to let misogynistic, jealous assholes get to her. Words meant nothing to her and never had. Actions spoke way louder than whatever came out of a person’s mouth.
Jasmine pushed her thoughts aside and grabbed her case from the bed. She was taking her stuff with her because she had no idea when or if she’d have the chance to come back to the motel.
She closed the door behind her and, after stowing her case in the trunk, got in and drove back to the sheriff’s office.
* * * *
Tanner glanced up when Clay and Spence came out of their office. Both men had two cups of coffee in hand, and he took the one Spence handed him. “Thanks.”
“I see Jasmine’s already left.” Clay stated the obvious as he handed Coop a mug of coffee.
“Where’d she go?” Coop asked.
“Probably to pack up her things.” Spence sipped from his mug.
“Why? Is she leaving? We need her here until we catch the sick psycho,” Tanner said in a hard voice.
“She’s not leaving,” Clay said in a matter-of-fact tone.
When Tanner saw Clay glance at Spence and then back to him and Coop, he knew there was something going on and it had to do with Jasmine.
“Tell me, us, what the hell is going on.”
Cooper rose from his seat before stalking over to stand beside him. Tanner knew his friend was picking up on his tension.
“Jasmine is going to be taking Misha’s place,” Spence said.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Coop snarled.
“Just what you think it means.” Clay
pointed a finger at Cooper before turning that finger toward Tanner. “I don’t want any shit from you two. She is a trained agent and has a job to do.”
Tanner’s heart flipped and then slammed against his ribs. He curled his hands into tight fists and ground his teeth down so hard his jaw hurt. Red hazed over his eyes for a second but receded when he drew in a deep, ragged breath. “She’s going to use herself as bait?” His voice was nearly as hoarse as Coop’s was. It was hard talking around the constriction in his throat, but he’d forced the words out somehow.
“Yes,” Spence answered.
“Fuck that!” Coop growled before spinning away and pacing around the room.
Tanner wanted to pace, too, but he was so fucking mad he was sure he’d walk right into a piece of furniture.
“Calm the hell down,” Clay said in a loud voice.
“Did you ask her?” Tanner glared at Clay, ready to punch his boss and friend in the face if his answer was yes.
“No.” Clay set his mug of coffee down on the edge of Tanner’s desk before scrubbing a hand down his face. “Misha and Bella suggested we ask her a few weeks back, but neither Spence nor I were comfortable doing that. Jasmine came into our office this morning and volunteered to use herself to lure this sick fuck out. Spence and I didn’t hesitate to accept.”
“You should have told her no,” Coop rasped out. “She’s too fucking small to take on this psycho.”
Tanner felt the hair on his nape stand on end and had a bad feeling that he and Coop had just made it that much harder for themselves to woo Jasmine into a relationship. When he saw Clay and Spence glance between him and Cooper toward the door, he knew they were in deep shit. He closed his eyes and sighed with resignation.