by Katie Lane
“Dammit! This isn’t funny, Chester.” The horse felt his frustration and pranced sideways until Lincoln got her under control. “If Sam turns up dead, you’ll be a prime suspect if anyone finds out about what you did. And now that I know, I’ll have to report it.” He took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “Dammit.”
“This is why I didn’t tell you in the first place,” Chester said. “I knew if Sam turned up dead, it would put you in a tight spot.”
It did put him in a tight spot. Even if Chester hadn’t killed Sam, he’d shot at him. And that kind of evidence could lead to a conviction. The only way to make sure Chester wasn’t falsely accused was to find out what happened to Sam Sweeney. He was a Texas Ranger. He needed to get over his hatred of Sam and start acting like one. If it turned out Sam had been murdered, he needed to bring the murderer to justice.
Even if it was an old cowboy who he loved like a father.
When they got back to the Double Diamond ranch, he got dressed in his ranger uniform and headed into town. He wanted to look at Sheriff Willaby’s reports and see if the sheriff had discovered anything he hadn’t told Lincoln about. Something Deputy Meriwether had completely overlooked. Of course, he would have to get the password from the deputy without letting her know what he was doing. She was much too eager to be part of the case and he wasn’t about to include her.
He thought he would have to track the deputy down in town. But when he stopped by the sheriff’s office, he discovered the front door open. It just wasn’t Deputy Meriwether sitting in the chair in the sheriff’s office.
It was the sheriff.
Sheriff Willaby had his back to the door and was two-finger hunting and pecking on the computer keyboard. He was dressed in civilian clothes, which led Lincoln to deduce that he wasn’t there officially. And since he hadn’t even taken off his hat, Lincoln also deduced that he wasn’t planning on staying long enough to see how the deputy was doing. He was there for another reason.
Lincoln quietly stepped into the room. But before he could see what was on the screen, Deputy Meriwether spoke from behind him.
“So now you’ve taken to breaking and entering, Officer Hayes?”
The sheriff quickly turned off the computer and whirled around in his chair as the deputy walked into the room.
“Oh! Sheriff Willaby.” She froze next to Lincoln. “I didn’t realize you were back to work.”
Lincoln crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t think the sheriff is back for good. I think the sheriff just stopped by to . . . what did you stop by for, Willaby?”
Sheriff Willaby’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here, Hayes?”
Before Lincoln could take the sheriff down a notch or two . . . or possibly three, the deputy jumped in. “Officer Hayes has been nice enough to help out this little ol’ rookie deputy while you’ve been gone, sheriff.” She winked. “Not that you didn’t do a great job of showing me the ropes.”
The sheriff looked back and forth between them before a smirk settled on his face. “So the gossip I heard is true. You have been fooling around with my deputy.”
Lincoln’s fists tightened. He didn’t know if he was pissed about the accusation or about Willaby calling the deputy his. “You should know better than to believe gossip, Sheriff.”
“And you should know better than to fraternize with a fellow officer, Hayes.”
“Fraternize?” Deputy Meriwether’s eyes widened. “Why, Sheriff Willaby, I hope you are not implying what I think you’re implying. Officer Lincoln Hayes has been nothing but a gentleman towards me and extremely understanding about the few little mistakes I’ve made as a new deputy. He’s stopped by twice now to make sure everything is okeydokey. And I’m sure that’s what you’re doing here too, Sheriff Willaby. I mean a girl couldn’t have two better mentors.”
She took off her hat, gave that gorgeous blond hair a shake, and then tossed the hat at the hooks on the wall. Surprisingly, it landed on the hook. She gave a satisfied smile before she moved around the desk. “But for now, I’m afraid I need to use the computer to fill out a report about the ticket I wrote to Jethro Mills for letting his kids ride in the bed of his truck. I gave him a warning, but he just wouldn’t listen. And I would hate to have one of those sweet things end up falling out on their heads.”
The sheriff looked like he was about to refuse, but then he got up from the chair and moved around the desk. “Have you discovered any new information on Sam Sweeney?”
“Not a thing,” Lincoln said casually.
Willaby glanced at the deputy and Lincoln waited for her to spill her guts about the bone. The woman loved to talk. But instead, she just shrugged. “Not a little ol’ thing. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do and I can’t do it with two good-lookin’ men standing there distracting me.”
Sheriff Willaby pointed a finger at her. “Just remember whose office this is, deputy.” He glanced at Lincoln. “Hayes.” He walked out the door.
When he was gone, Deputy Meriwether flopped down in the chair and let her smile drop. “Now that was interesting. I think the sheriff doesn’t know what extended leave means.”
“Oh, he knows what it means.” Lincoln sat down in the chair in front of the desk. “I thought the sheriff had run roughshod over you. I didn’t realize it was the other way around.”
She shrugged. “Some men are easily handled with a smile and a little ego building.”
“Some?”
She laughed. “Okay. Most. But a lot of people respond better to honey than they do to vinegar.”
“I guess I’m vinegar.”
“Now did I say that?” The twinkle in her eyes said that was exactly what she meant.
She did have a point. Lincoln had always believed the best why to deal with people was with a firm hand and a no-nonsense attitude. Dixie believed just the opposite. She used her beauty and easygoing personality to get what she wanted. He had seen it as female manipulation, but now he had to reconsider. If she hadn’t been there, Lincoln had little doubt that he and Willaby would’ve gotten into it. She had diffused the situation with just a few smiles and her southern charm.
Maybe honey did work better than vinegar.
“Now what has brought the big bad Texas Ranger here today?” she asked. “Wait, let me guess. The bone turned out to be Sam Sweeney’s and you need my help solving the case.”
“No on both counts.”
Her face fell. “It isn’t Sam’s? Then whose is it?”
“The report hasn’t come back yet. Now I need to look at your records.”
“It’s Sam Sweeney’s.” She leaned back in the chair and crossed her boots up on the desk. “He’s the only one missing. It has to be him.” She nibbled on her thumbnail with the pretty pink polish. “We need to find the rest of his body. It could lead us to his murderer.”
“There’s no we. This is my case.”
She took her feet off the desk and sat up. “But I found the bone!”
“Boomer found the bone.”
She glared at him. “Why do you hate me?”
“I don’t hate you.”
“Yes, you do. I lied through my teeth when I told the sheriff you have been a kind, caring gentleman to me. You’ve been surly and mean and have done everything in your power to get me to quit. Why?”
He should’ve told her about her father. He was getting sick of the charade. But he’d been given an order and he never ignored an order. That didn’t mean he couldn’t ask questions. “What made you choose law enforcement? I just don’t get why a senator’s daughter and beauty queen would want this job.”
Her eyes widened. “Who told you about my daddy?”
“I googled you.” It wasn’t a complete lie. After finding out who her father was, he had googled her . . . and seen image after image of her on beauty pageant stages showing off a body that would bring most men to their knees. Just not him. “Why this career choice?” he asked. “Why not something more fitting with who you are.”<
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She stared at him. “And who am I, Officer Hayes? A ditzy beauty queen? A spoiled senator’s daughter? That’s how most people see me. But I’m more than that. And maybe I just want the chance to prove it.”
They were words he had used more than once in his life. He knew what it was like to want to prove that you were different from what someone expected you to be. The people of his small town had seen him as a trailer-trash troublemaker. His mother’s boyfriend had seen him as the devil’s spawn. Even his mother had seen him as a delinquent that was headed for jail. If not for his grandmother and Chester and Lucas believing that he could be whatever he wanted to be, he might’ve ended up becoming exactly what those people thought he was. Instead, he had worked hard to prove the naysayers wrong.
Now he had become one of those naysayers.
He had labeled Dixie. Instead of helping her like Chester and Lucas had helped him, all he’d done was belittle her. It sounded like Dixie was trying to prove her worth to a father who wasn’t going to be happy until she was home and under his thumb. Well, Lincoln could no longer be party to that. He didn’t know why Dixie had chosen this profession. But if that’s what she wanted, he was going to help her achieve her dream.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Dixie blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I haven’t been a very good leader. I shouldn’t be telling you to quit. I should be helping you to become the best deputy you can be.”
She looked stunned, which made him feel even worse. “Oh . . . well, I think you have more important things to do than help me—”
He held up a finger. “First rule of being a good law enforcement officer, accept help. It’s better to be heroes together than a dead hero by yourself.” He held up another finger. “Second rule, when you have leverage over someone, go in for the kill and get what you want—whether it’s information from an informant or a confession from a criminal. I more than owe you for being such a jackass the last few weeks. What do you want?”
Her eyebrows lifted before a provocative smile tipped the corners of her mouth.
It was annoying how just a little smile could have desire sizzling through his veins. “Anything but that. We’re never going to cross that line.”
The smile got bigger. “I think we already did, but I’ll let you pretend like our amazing kiss didn’t happen if you’d like.”
He’d like. Just the mention of the kiss had him growing hard beneath his zipper. Unaware of his reaction, she tapped those full sweet lips that he ached to taste again.
“Hmm, let’s see. What do I want from you that doesn’t include sex?” Her eyes lit up. “I know. I want you to let me be on the Sam Sweeney case with you.”
Damn. He had walked right into that one.
“No.”
“You said anything.”
He still might’ve refused if she hadn’t had that pleading look in her green eyes. She wanted this. She wanted it badly. And he knew what it was like to want something badly. He’d wanted to become a law enforcement officer in a bad way and more than one person had given him a hand up to achieve that dream. It was his turn.
“Fine. But you need to remember I’m in charge and you need to do what I say.”
She smiled. “Yes, sir.”
Why did he have the strong desire to hear those words whispered against his lips? Or better yet, moaned as he bent her over the desk? He shook the image away and tried to refocus. “You can start by letting me take a look at Sam’s missing case file.”
“Okay, but it’s just the sheriff’s rambling. There’s no real evidence or witnesses he talked to.” She swiveled the chair and turned on the computer. “So why does he dislike you so much that he’d want to pin a murder on you?”
“He was a young deputy when we were at the Double Diamond that summer and I think we intimidated him. I think he hates me even more because I became a Texas Ranger.”
She glanced at him. “And because you’re everything a lawman should be—smart, intuitive, and caring.” The compliment made his cheeks warm and she laughed. “Ahh, so it’s compliments that get you flustered.”
“Just pull up the file. It should be right there since Willaby was looking at it.”
Dixie turned back to the computer and her brow knotted. “He wasn’t looking at Sam Sweeney’s case file.”
Lincoln got up and moved closer to the desk. “Then what was he looking at?”
“I’m not sure. It looks like a list of deserted cars that were towed. But why would the sheriff sneak in here to look at—”
Sam’s truck.
Lincoln should’ve thought of it before. He’d checked to see if it had been registered and insured, but not to see if it had been deserted and towed. It pissed him off that he had been so busy avoiding the case he hadn’t checked out the obvious. He leaned over the desk. “Pull up all the towed cars for the month of June sixteen years ago.”
She clicked through the different files until she found the one he asked for. “Wow. I didn’t realize how many people just leave their cars on the side of the road.” She turned the monitor so he could see.
Since he’d written down the license number before while searching for information on Sam, Lincoln had no trouble spotting it. It had been found on a rural highway not too far from Simple. He pulled out his cellphone and called the number of the tow company. The woman who answered was friendly and efficient and even more so when she found out he was a Texas Ranger. Within a few minutes, he had his answer.
“Yes, our records say that we towed it,” the woman said.
“And who picked it up?” he asked.
“It seems that no one picked it up.”
His shoulders tightened. “What happened to the truck?”
“We usually sell them to pay for the tow and storage, but I guess this truck was too old because it says we sold it to the junkyard for scrap metal. It’s probably been melted down by now.”
After he hung up, Dixie looked at him. “So it’s another dead end.”
Lincoln shook his head. “No. It’s confirmation that Sam never left Simple.”
Chapter Eleven
Murder.
Up until this point, it had just been a word Dixie had used to put her daddy into checkmate. But now that it was actually becoming a reality, the game she was playing with her father wasn’t so much fun anymore. Especially if she ended up dead. Which was much more likely to happen when dealing with a murderer than a jaywalker.
If her father didn’t give in soon, she would have to admit she had bitten off more than she could chew and call this charade quits. Surprisingly, the thought of losing her pageant consulting business didn’t bother her as much as the idea of leaving the town without a deputy.
During her daily patrols, she’d gotten close to the people of Simple. She now viewed them as her friends and cared about their welfare. She reminded them not to text and drive and to slow down for school zones. She pointed out sidewalk advertisement signs that needed to be moved so no one would trip and got after the bouncer at Cotton-Eyed Joe’s for not carding people. She had befriended Cheyenne and her daddy and had sent business his way so they could stay in Simple. And she’d gotten with the pastors of the two churches in town about what could be done to help the people who lived in Lucky Lane Trailer Park.
For the first time in a long time, she felt like she had purpose. It wasn’t winning a glittery crown or a pretty sash. It was helping an entire town become a safer, better place to live. Except she couldn’t keep people safe. Not from a murderer. She broke out in a cold sweat at just the thought of having to pull out her gun and shoot someone.
She glanced over at the man who sat on the other side of the desk from her. While Dixie was a jittery mess at the prospect of facing a murderer, Lincoln Hayes looked as cool as a glass of sweet tea. He was relaxed back in the chair with his laptop on his lap and his intense gaze scanning the screen. A lock of black hair had fallen over his brow and he was distractedl
y rubbing the scar on his lip. It was extremely sensual, and a tingle of desire settled in her tummy. But since it had become an hourly occurrence, she had gotten extremely good at ignoring it.
“How did you get it?”
He glanced up, his eyes confused. She had once thought his eyes were just plain brown. But that was before she had spent the last week sitting across a desk from him. Now she knew they were a rich dark chocolate with a splash of lighter milk chocolate. She also knew other things. He liked his coffee with no sugar but lots of cream. And he could go without breakfast, but by lunch, his stomach started rumbling and he needed to eat or he got surly. He preferred his cheeseburgers with no onions. By four o’clock, he had a five o’clock shadow that covered his jaw and the dimple in his chin with sexy black stubble. And pulling a conversation out of him was like extracting molars.
“Get what?” he asked.
She touched the top corner of her mouth. “Your scar.”
He removed his finger from the scar. “A cut when I was a kid. Have you found anything in any of the reports about deserted trucks?”
They had been going through all the reports that had come into the sheriff’s office after Sam left the Double Diamond, hoping to find the report about Sam’s truck being found. So far, they’d found nothing.
“No,” she said. “How did you cut it?”
He hesitated for a second before he looked back at his laptop. “On a ring. Now let’s get back to work.”
“You wore a ring as a kid?”
“No, my mom’s boyfriend did.”
All those tingles of sexual awareness turned into a huge pang of shock and sympathy. Her parents had never lifted a hand to her. Her punishment had always been long lectures given by her father or a look of disappointment from her mother. She was stunned and appalled.
“I’m sorry. I hope your mother kicked the jerk to the curb.”
He laughed, a harsh sound that held no humor. “Actually, I was the one who got kicked to the curb.” The heartbreak she felt that a mother would choose a boyfriend over her own child must have shown on her face because Lincoln sighed. “It’s not a big deal. Not everyone can be a spoiled senator’s kid.”