Rita locked her knees in frustration, and the tears began to flow.
“Hey.” Cole pulled her back against him and stroked her sopping hair. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Okay? But you’ve got to trust me.” He took her hands in his, and led her away from the wretched fountain and massive crowd. “First, let’s get you out of here. I need to call this in, and you need something dry to wear. I’ve got towels and a first aid kit in the gym bag in my cruiser. How hurt are you?”
“I’m not.”
He turned her palm up in his, both their hands now painted with her blood. “No?”
“Scrapes. From the marble.”
He nodded stiffly. “What else?”
Her legs were sore and her head was fuzzy. “Bruises. Ow.” Her vision blurred. “I think I hit my...” Rita’s knees buckled and the world went black.
Chapter Six
Cole stroked wet hair from Rita’s face as he buckled her into the passenger seat of his car. This day had gone from strange to downright bizarre in a matter of hours. Luckily, Rita would be okay. “Hey.”
Her eyes flitted open then pulled shut.
“Rita?” Cole pressed a palm to her cheek. “You with me?”
She squirmed, apparently confused by the seat belt. Her eyes widened and her arms swung for him.
Cole dodged the blow. That wouldn’t happen again. He collected her wrists in one of his hands and put on his warmest smile. “You shouldn’t hit lawmen. There’s a law against that. Plus, it hurts.” He made a show of rubbing his chest where she’d landed the earlier hit.
Color rushed to her cheeks. “Sorry.” She squirmed to take in her new surroundings. “What happened?”
“You passed out. I carried you to my car.” Cole tugged her safety belt, making sure it was securely latched. “How’s your head?”
She groaned.
Cole flashed a penlight in her direction. “Can you follow the light?”
She squinted, but got the job done.
“Okay.” He lifted a finger before shutting her inside the cruiser and rounding the hood to the driver’s side. Behind the wheel, he twisted for a look in her direction. “You were chased by a lunatic in a black sedan. Tinted windows. No plates. Any chance you got a look at the driver?”
She shook her head.
“You would’ve been killed if you hadn’t dived into the fountain. You hit your head doing that. Then you hit me. Then you passed out. And here we are.”
She rubbed her eyes and groaned.
Cole pointed his cruiser toward the bridge, waving to a set of campus security officers. “Those guys showed up as I was hauling you off the street. I barely caught you before you hit your head again.” He chuckled. “You were right in the middle of telling me how well you felt.”
“I think I have a concussion.”
“You don’t.” He smiled, happy to know that was true. She was fine. Slightly banged up, but all things considered, Rita was stellar. “It wasn’t the head injury that knocked you out, but that goose egg is going to look a lot worse before it starts looking better.”
Rita dissolved against his passenger seat. Her fingers sought the wound. She winced when she found it.
“Shock will do that to people. The fainting, not the goose egg. Anyway, you’re fine now.”
“Except someone still wants to kill me.”
“Yeah.” There was that. He ground his teeth. He needed to fix that. “You’re having a bad day.”
She laughed humorlessly, eyes fixed on the world outside her window. “Very bad.”
“And you’re all wet.”
“I need to go home,” she said.
“Already on it.” Cole took the bridge back to Shadow Point at half the speed he’d used to arrive in Rivertown.
Rita closed her eyes. “Why are you so calm, and how do you know I’m okay?” Her teeth chattered.
Cole ached to stroke the curve of her clenched jaw. “You’re with me now. You’re definitely going to make it, Horn.”
She rolled her head in his direction, blinking through tear-filled eyes. “And how can you be sure I’m not concussed?”
“Medical school.”
Rita’s rosebud mouth pulled into a droll expression. “Of course.”
“I dropped out,” he said, “so I’m not a doctor, but I was a medic in the army, and I’ve been bandaging up my brothers all my life. My uncle’s an EMT, too, so that helped.”
Rita straightened in her seat. “Wait a minute. You quit medical school to be a deputy?”
“Law’s in the blood, I guess.”
“I guess,” she agreed. “Clearly also a hero complex.”
“Not the first time I’ve been accused of that. I guess we have something in common.”
Rita wrinkled her nose. “What?”
“The hero complex.” He watched for understanding that never came, then tried again. “What do you call what you do?”
“Paperwork?”
“No,” he corrected. “Feeding stray cats and making lunches for the homeless. You know all their names, and I don’t even know all the bailiffs. What do you call yourself, if not a hero?”
A wave of pink spread over her cheeks. “Nothing. I’m just...trying.”
Cole worked to redirect his thoughts from that blush and all the other ways he’d like to summon it.
A few creative images came immediately to mind.
Rita’s lips parted. She dropped her sweet hazel gaze to her lap before raising her eyes to him once more. “I try to make a difference.”
Her words hit Cole in the chest. So much kindness in one small package. How did a woman like Rita Horn go unattached? If Cole were looking for something serious, which he wasn’t, and she wasn’t an endangered civilian in his care, which she was, maybe there could have been something between them.
Like what? He chastised himself. Pull it together, Garrett.
Ten silent minutes later, Cole pulled into Rita’s driveway.
Rita unlocked the door and welcomed him inside.
The house was exactly as he remembered. No one had been back while Rita was out. Then again, he’d already known the person responsible for overturning her place was likely the same one driving the sedan across the river.
He helped himself to a seat on her couch while she went to change clothes.
Cole checked his texts and listened to the handful of messages that had collected during his drive back to town. Campus security had conveyed the details of the attack to their local authorities. Rivertown police were interviewing the mass of witnesses and would report to West on the matter.
The phone vibrated in his hand, and West’s face appeared on his screen.
“You got something?” Cole moved the phone to his ear.
“Yeah, a pair of empty seats across from my desk. Where are you?”
“Rita’s place. She’s cleaning up from her fall in the fountain.”
“Get her here as soon as you can. Meanwhile, tell me what you learned.” The sound of West’s creaky desk chair echoed in the quiet background. Cole could practically see his older brother rubbing the stress lines off his forehead.
“Nothing,” he admitted, “but we’ll head over to the sheriff’s department next.”
“No!” Rita appeared on the stairs, white as a ghost and looking fit to run. She’d showered and changed at an impressive speed, and from the looks of her, she didn’t plan to stay put.
“Why not?” Cole’s voice sounded in time with West’s through the line.
“Did she say no?” West barked. “Why the hell not?”
Cole studied the fresh fear in Rita’s eyes. “I’ll call you back.” He tossed the phone onto the coffee table and scooted to the edge of the couch, hands clasped between his knees.
Rita took the final few stairs slowly, an apo
logy written on her face. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not what you wanted to hear, and you’ve already done so much.”
“Why don’t you have a seat,” Cole suggested. “Tell me why you look half terrified to go to the sheriff’s department. What will happen there?”
“I don’t know.” She wet her lips and lowered onto the cushion beside him, leaving only a few inches from his knee to hers. “I need to tell you something, but you aren’t going to like it.”
“Try me.” He relaxed his position, trading the forward lean for a casual slouch and pivot in her direction.
She drew her feet beneath her and pulled in a long breath. Her scent drifted to him in a cloud of temptation.
“Rita?” he pushed. “It’s okay. You can tell me anything.”
Her emotion-filled eyes enticed him to reach for her. She scanned the room before setting her gaze remorsefully on Cole. “The man I saw at the docks last night was a Cade County deputy.”
* * *
RITA WATCHED AS Cole’s expression stretched from shock to disbelief.
“No.” He shook his head. “No way.”
She released a deep sigh. “Yes. I saw him.”
“Who?”
“I didn’t get his name, if that’s what you’re asking, but one of you has been following me all day. To my work. To my brother’s school. You’ll have to excuse me if I’m in no hurry to deliver myself to him at the station.”
“Whoa.” Cole raised his palms. “Let’s start again. How do you know he’s a Cade County deputy?”
“I saw him. The man at the docks, the same one who visited my office, wore a jacket just like yours. Actually, it’s possible they were two different men,” she corrected. “Either way, I saw the Cade County Sheriff’s Department logo on the jacket both times. I’m sure of it.”
“What about the man you saw in Rivertown?”
“No jacket.” Intuition had told her the man from the café was dangerous, but she couldn’t be sure he was the same man from the docks. “And I didn’t see him driving the car.”
Cole nodded. “That’s okay. You remember what he looks like?”
“Yes.”
“That’s a good start.” Cole handed his phone to her. “I believe you saw a man in a deputy’s jacket, but it had to be a fake. Folks see a lawman, they tend to look the other way.”
Rita bit her lip. Personally, she found the uniform captivating, but she wasn’t about to say so.
“There are only six of us,” Cole continued. “West, me and four other men I love like family.” He pointed to the phone screen. Pictures from a picnic centered the frame. “Move through those. See if your man’s in there. The whole team made an appearance that day, and I’ve got pictures of everyone.”
Rita studied each photo, taking in the details, peeking into a day in Cole’s life. She had to admit it looked like fun. Volleyball. Horseshoes. Enough food to feed an army and enough people to form one. “This is all your family?”
“Most of it. Not everyone could make it, but quite a few friends showed up, too. Like the other deputies. Everyone stopped in before and after their shifts.”
“Reunion?” she guessed.
“Nah. Housewarming for one of my brothers and his new wife.” Cole crossed his arms and smiled. “It was a good day.”
Rita shook her head in awe. “We’ve never had that. The military moved our family too often to really grow roots. People were usually nice, but it was always just Mom, Ryan and me. Now it’s just the two of us, and Ryan’s got his own life across the river.”
“Sounds lonely.”
“It can be,” she admitted. “So I reach out to others.”
Cole drifted closer. Conflict burned in his deep blue eyes.
Rita turned her attention back to his phone. She looked at each face carefully. “I didn’t get a good look at the man’s face last night, but my gut says he’s not here. He’s shorter and more heavily muscled than these men, built more like the man from the café.” She returned the phone to him, then stood and moved onto the stairs. “I have something I want to give you.”
His cheek ticked up. He hooked one boot over the opposite knee and opened his arms along the back of the couch. Whatever he was thinking, he kept it to himself.
Her tiger cat sashayed in his direction, blinking curious green eyes.
“Be right back.” Rita grabbed her purse off her bed and returned to his side. “I found this on the docks beside a big puddle of blood.” Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, preventing her from saying anything more. Instead, she liberated the pen from her bag and handed it to Cole.
Cole traded her the mewing tiger cat on his lap for the evidence in her hand. “This was with the blood?”
“Yeah. I put it in the baggie so it wouldn’t get ruined. I think that was what they were after when they broke in here today.” She stroked the kitty’s head and nuzzled him close to her cheek. “At first I thought one of the cats was hurt. That’s why I ignored the no-trespassing sign.”
Cole chuckled. He rolled smart blue eyes up at her and smiled. “This pen could be all we need to find the killer. You did good, Horn.”
“Thanks.” She hid her face in the feline’s fur.
Cole watched.
Her puffy white Persian, Snowball, appeared at Cole’s feet. She eyeballed the tiger cat in Rita’s arms, then turned to the deputy on her couch. Snowball climbed onto Cole’s lap and flopped onto her side.
Cole’s hands dived into her soft, downy fur and drew out a long enthusiastic purr. “How many cats do you have?”
“Three.” She cleared her throat. “I’ve had more, but these guys get territorial. When I have more than three, it’s because I’m fostering until someone else can find a forever home.”
Cole’s smile waned.
“What?”
“No. Nothing.” He set the cat aside and took a spin around the room. He rubbed the top of his head. “Someone knows you have that pen.”
“I think so. Yeah.”
He turned to face her. “Then we should probably get going.”
“Where?”
“Look.” He moved cautiously in her direction. “I know you don’t want to visit the sheriff’s department, but West has questions of his own for you.”
Rita stepped back.
Cole flashed an easy, heart-melting smile, and he extended an upturned palm. “I can keep you safe. Do you trust me?”
Rita considered her answer. She trusted Cole. Maybe West. She hadn’t recognized any of the other men in the photos. Maybe Cole was right. Maybe the jacket had been a fake. “Fine.” Rita collected her purse and laptop bag, dragging both high onto her shoulder. “I can’t believe my laptop didn’t wind up in the fountain.”
Cole dropped his hand, but held the smile. “It was on the cement, right about where you dived in. You’re lucky it isn’t a pile of plastic bits and keys.”
Rita ripped into the bag for a look at her device. Everything seemed intact. “Thank goodness.” She smiled in relief. “Wait.” A new worry presented itself in Rita’s mind. “How do you suppose that black car was able to find me in another town?”
Cole pushed his hands into his pockets. “I saw one like it outside your house when I left today. I tried following, but I lost it in traffic. It could’ve been following you all morning. Or...” He turned in a sudden circle, lips parted and eyes narrowed. “Someone trashed your house but didn’t take anything.”
“I had the pen with me. In my bag.”
Cole raised his hand once more. “Can I see your bag?”
“Sure.” She unhooked both sets of straps from her shoulder and handed them over.
“Did you have both these bags with you all day? Even at work?”
“Not the laptop. I use my work computer while I’m there.”
Cole turned the ba
g inside out, sweeping his hand over the material in a methodical pattern. His eyebrows rose, and his hand withdrew from the bag with a tiny black dot on the end of one finger. “Is this yours?”
“What is it?”
Cole tipped his hand between them, examining the little plastic thing on his finger. “Someone put a tracker in your laptop bag.”
Rita covered her mouth. Who would do something like that? Who could do something like that? Not an average thug. The other man’s suit and bloody dress shirt came back to mind. “There was a second man,” she said, realizing only then that she’d never told Cole about him. “He was dressed up. A suit and tie, but his face was in shadows.”
Cole stretched impossibly taller. “I don’t know what you stumbled into, but I think it’s time I get you out of here.” He grabbed his phone and swiped the screen to life. “Pack a bag and let’s go.”
Chapter Seven
Rita admired the view as Cole parked the cruiser in front of a sensible Craftsman-style bungalow near the national forest. Forgotten barns peppered the rolling landscape, leaned precariously against the horizon. Overgrown fields swayed and stretched in the afternoon breeze, contained loosely by a sturdy-looking pasture fence. They’d negotiated a trade on the way over. She’d agreed to stay with Cole temporarily, just until the killer was caught or a more secure option arose, and he’d agreed to get West to question her at his place instead of the station.
Rita gave her handsome driver an appraising look. “This is where you live?”
“Yeah.” He cracked the door and stepped onto the gravel.
Rita watched in the rearview mirror as he popped the trunk and shouldered her bags, arriving a moment later at her door. “You realize you have to get out of the car to get inside the house, right?” he asked through her still-closed door.
Rita joined him on the long narrow drive, taking in the distance to the road and nearest homes, mere dots on the horizon. “This is really secluded.”
“Private,” he corrected. “It takes my family longer to get here than anywhere else, so they’re more likely to knock on West’s or Blake’s door than mine.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I had a place in town for a few years, but I could barely think between doorbell rings.”
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