Cold Case at Carlton's Canyon (19 page)

Chasing bad guys was his life.

“I’ll leave right away.”

Amanda left the podium and walked toward him, and his heart did an odd flutter. A few minutes ago, all he could think about was getting her in bed again. Touching her. Loving her. Holding her another night. And maybe another...

Shaken by the thought, he squared his shoulders. “Good job, Amanda.”

“You saved my life,” she said. “Thank you for that.”

He shrugged. “Just doing my job. Speaking of which,” he said, his chest twitching with an odd pang, “I have to leave right now. Another case.”

Something akin to disappointment flared in Amanda’s eyes. Then again, maybe he’d imagined it, because a second later, she smiled, the professional, distant look she’d given him when they’d first met.

Before he’d seen her naked and touched and tasted every inch of her.

He wanted to do it again.

But she extended her hand for a handshake. “Thanks, Sergeant Thorpe. It’s been a pleasure working with you. Good luck.”

His gaze met hers, and a moment of tension rippled between them. His chest squeezed, the urge to say something more nagging at him.

He felt as if he was leaving something important behind.

But she shook his hand, then turned and walked toward her car, and he felt like a fool. She obviously didn’t have feelings for him.

She was independent, smart...and beautiful. And married to her job just as he was.

The perfect woman for you.

And if he didn’t snap her up, someone else would.

That would be for the best, he reminded himself as he climbed in his SUV and headed out of town.

He didn’t do emotions. And he didn’t have room or time for anything else in his life.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Amanda bit her lip to keep her emotions at bay as she watched Justin drive away. She was a big girl. A strong, independent woman.

She did not need a man.

She’d always known that her time with Justin was limited. Work related. Nothing more.

So why was she crying?

Because Justin was the first man she’d met who understood her drive to do her job, understood her need to solve crimes.

And respected her for her work.

He’d also made her body sing with erotic sensations that she’d never experienced before.

But that wasn’t all. She had fallen in love with him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Falling for any man was crazy in her line of work, much less for a Texas Ranger who might leave one morning to go to work and end up in a body bag that night.

So could she.

She swiped at her tears as she parked at her house, let herself in and jumped in the shower. The memory of looking down at that canyon and imagining herself at the bottom taunted her.

Yes, she could have died last night. And if she had, would anyone have cared?

Would she spend the rest of her life alone because she was too afraid of losing someone to actually allow love in her life?

* * *

J
USTIN
STOPPED
AT
the crossroads leading out of town, the moonlight dappling a golden glow across the horizon. If he drove all night he could make it to Laredo by morning. Find a hotel, grab a shower and hot breakfast and be working the case before noon.

The canyon to the left caught his eye, its vastness stretching far and wide, from behind the high school to the edge of town. A hollow emptiness resounded from the canyon tonight as if the ghosts had finally been raised and the dead could rest.

Amanda had almost died there. If he’d been a few minutes later, they might be dragging her broken body from the bottom.

His stomach seized into a knot.

He’d never been so afraid in his life.

Because he loved her.

He punched the steering wheel with his fist and spun the SUV around. He didn’t want to drive all night to a new crime scene. The chief had other agents who could do the job.

He wanted the night off. Wanted to hold Amanda in his arms and make love to her again and whisper sweet nothings to her while he could.

His heart throbbed as he raced to her place, and when he arrived and saw a dim light glowing in the bedroom, adrenaline surged through him. He jumped from the SUV and hurried up to the door. He had no idea what he’d say, but he couldn’t leave Sunset Mesa tonight.

He couldn’t leave Amanda.

He pounded on the door, perspiration trickling down the back of his neck. A second later, she opened the door. Her eyes looked red rimmed as if she might have been crying, and he wondered if something else bad had happened.

He inhaled a breath, but the scent of some feminine body wash wafted from her, and he realized she’d just come from the shower. Her gorgeous hair lay in damp tendrils around her shoulders, a bead of water lingering at the top of her breasts where her satin robe had parted.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “I thought you had to leave.”

“You’ve been crying,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “Why?”

Her eyes misted over, and she squeezed them shut as if to stem more tears. Fear clogged his throat and he gripped her arms. “What happened?”

Her gaze met his, other emotions filling the depths. Hunger, passion, need.

“I missed you,” she said, her cheeks stained with a blush. “Why did you come back?”

“For you,” he said, emboldened by the fact that she’d actually cried over him. It was foolish, but it gave him hope. “I...don’t want to go to Laredo tonight.”

“I don’t want you to go either,” she said softly.

“I want you.” He lowered his head and kissed her. “Tonight. Tomorrow. Always.”

She slid her arms around him and kissed him back. “What are you saying, Justin?”

“That I love you,” he murmured against her ear. “I almost lost you last night and that scared me.”

“We could both die on the job.”

“We could.” He teased her neck with his lips. “So we might as well enjoy what we have together.”

“I love you, too,” she said, a seductive smile lighting her eyes. “Come on in, cowboy.”

He chuckled and let her lead him to the bedroom. Seconds later, they lay naked in each other’s arms, words of love spilling out as they joined their bodies again and again through the night.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from UNREPENTANT COWBOY by Joanna Wayne.

We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Intrigue story.

You crave excitement!
Harlequin Intrigue
stories deal in serious suspense, keeping you on the edge of your seat as resourceful, true-to-life women and strong, fearless men fight for survival.

Enjoy six new stories from Harlequin Intrigue every month!

Visit
Harlequin.com
to find your next great read.

We like you—why not like us on Facebook:
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

Follow us on Twitter:
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

Read our blog for all the latest news on our authors and books:
HarlequinBlog.com

Subscribe to our newsletter for special offers, new releases, and more!

Harlequin.com/newsletters

Chapter One

“We, the jury, find the defendant, Edward Blanco, not guilty on all counts in the murder of Evelyn Cox.”

A synchronized gasp filled the courtroom accompanied by cries of horror and heartbreak from Evelyn’s family. They knew that justice had not been served.

Members of the defense team pounded Leif Dalton on the back and reached for his hand. Edward Blanco flashed the same innocent smile he’d displayed for the jury through weeks of testimony. Only this time contempt for the trial and everyone connected with it burned in his ebony eyes.

Leif avoided eye contact as Blanco expressed his gratitude in gloating terms. Then Leif turned and managed a nod toward the judge and jury. The handshakes Leif exchanged with members of his defense team were forced and meaningless.

For the second time in his life, he was almost certain he’d helped a killer escape punishment and walk free to likely kill again—unless someone killed him first.

The prosecution hadn’t had a chance. The evidence to convict Blanco simply hadn’t been there. Everything their lead attorney fed the jury was strictly circumstantial, and that wasn’t enough for jury members anymore.

They wanted the kind of proof they witnessed every week in countless TV police procedurals. They wanted a DNA match. They wanted a killer who looked like a killer instead of the handsome, sophisticated man you’d choose for your own daughter to marry.

But he couldn’t fault the jury for being fooled by Blanco. Leif had had his doubts about the man when the firm pressured him to take the case, but Blanco had quickly won him over. Throughout the trial Blanco had given an Oscar-worthy performance.

Until two days ago when the final arguments had been made and the jury had gone into deliberation. Then, confident that he was going to walk from the courtroom a free man, Blanco had let one careless comment slip.

The comment was not an admission of guilt, but it was more than enough to convince Leif that not only was Blanco a psychopath capable of stalking and brutally murdering an innocent woman, but that he’d experienced no guilt afterward.

Leif had done his job. He’d argued his client’s case honestly and effectively. He’d given Blanco what every citizen was guaranteed, the right to legal representation and a trial by jury.

Knowing that did nothing to alleviate the rumblings of guilt and remorse in the pit of his stomach.

“Let’s go grab a drink,” Chad encouraged. Chad was always the first one on his team ready to get down and party.

“Best whiskey in the house on me,” another team member said. “Leif Dalton, still undefeated.”

“I smell a promotion,” Chad said as he offered another clap on the back.

Their enthusiasm failed to generate any gusto on Leif’s part. “Sounds like fun, but I’m afraid you guys are going to have to celebrate without me.”

“You’re surely not going back to the office today. It’s almost five o’clock.”

“Plus, it’s the Monday before Thanksgiving,” Chad added. “Half the staff is on vacation.”

“So am I, as of right now,” Leif said. “But the trial was grueling. I’m beat.”

“That sounds like code for you have a better offer,” Morgan, one of the firms young law clerks, mocked.

A better offer. Damn. He was supposed to have dinner with Serena tonight.

“You caught me,” he said, faking a grin and trying to think of a halfway decent excuse for getting out of his date with the ravishing runway star.

He should have ended his relationship with her weeks ago. It was going nowhere. Probably mostly his fault. Relationship problems usually were. But possessive women made him feel caged, and Serena was growing more possessive by the day.

They walked out of the courthouse and into the bruising gray of threatening thunderclouds. He ducked from the crowd to avoid the flash of media cameras and the reporters pushing microphones at him.

When he looked up he was face-to-face with Evelyn Cox’s mother. She crucified him with her stare, then turned and stormed away without saying a word. He was tempted to run after her, but there wasn’t one thing he could say that would make her feel any better or hate him any less. Her beloved thirty-two-year-old daughter, the mother of her two precious grandchildren, was dead and her killer was free.

When he reached his car, he called and left a message for Serena. She’d be pissed. He’d broken at least a dozen dates during the weeks he’d been working on the Blanco case.

Leif sat behind the wheel of his black Porsche, staring into space while the jagged shards of his life played havoc with his mind. He was only thirty-eight.

He’d accomplished every professional goal he’d set for himself. His coworkers didn’t know it yet, but the deal was already in the works. He’d be named partner in Dallas’s most prestigious criminal defense law firm next month.

So why the hell was he fighting an overwhelming urge to start driving and not stop until Texas was so far behind him he couldn’t even see it in his mind?

Finally, he started the engine and began the short drive to his downtown condominium. He flicked on the radio. A local talk show host was reporting on a woman’s murder in a rural area just outside Dallas.

The victim’s identity hadn’t been released, but the body had been found by a hunter just after dawn this morning. The hunter had told reporters the body was covered in what looked like wounds from a hunting knife.

Sickening images crept into Leif’s mind, remnants of crime-scene photos that had a way of lingering in the dark crevices of his consciousness long after the juries had made their decisions.

He frequently had to remind himself that the world was full of kind, loving, sane people. Psychos like Edward Blanco and whoever had committed this morning’s murder were the exception. That didn’t make it any easier on the victims’ families.

Leif listened to the details—at least the details the police had given the media. He knew there were a few they’d keep secret—identifying facts that only they and the killer would know.

The body had been discovered in a rural area southwest of Dallas near the small town of Oak Grove.

Leif had been in that area a few months back when he’d made a wasted trip to Dry Gulch Ranch. For all he knew, he might have driven by the victim’s house. She would have been alive then, planning her future, thinking she had a long life in front of her.

Or perhaps not. She might have been involved with drug addicts and dealers or a jealous boyfriend who’d kill rather than lose her.

A streak of lightning slashed through thick layers of dark clouds as Leif pulled into the parking garage. The crash of thunder that followed suggested the storm was imminent.

Leif flicked off the radio, left the car with the valet and took the key-secured elevator to the twenty-second floor.

Once inside his condo, he headed straight for the bar and poured himself two fingers of Glenmorangie. Glass in hand, he walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows, pulled back the drapes and stared out at the city just as huge raindrops began to pelt the glass.

His thoughts shifted to the Dry Gulch Ranch and the infamous reading of R. J. Dalton’s will. Not that his biological father was dead, at least not yet. Or if he was Leif hadn’t been notified. He wouldn’t have made it to the funeral under any circumstances.

The old reprobate had had no use for Leif or his younger brother, Travis, when they’d desperately needed a father. Leif didn’t need or want R.J. in his life now. He definitely wouldn’t be letting R.J. manipulate his life as specified in his absurd will.

Leif took a slow sip of the whiskey and tried to clear his mind of troubling thoughts. Only along with everything else that was festering inside him tonight, the truth about his own failures forced its way to the forefront.

His failed marriage. The divorce. His relationship—or lack of one—with his teenage daughter, Effie.

His daughter had blamed the split between him and her mother totally on him. Leif had let it go at that, though the marriage had been a mistake from the beginning.

What they’d taken for love had probably been lust and their drives to succeed. In the end their shared workaholic, competitive tendencies had driven them apart. Marriage had become a stressful balancing act between two people who had nothing but their beloved daughter in common.

Celeste had suggested the divorce, but Leif had been the one who moved out. That was five years ago. Leif had been sure Effie would understand and come around with time. She hadn’t, and she was fifteen now.

His career move from San Francisco to Dallas hadn’t helped. What with his and Celeste’s schedules and Effie’s school and extracurricular activities, quality time with his daughter had become harder and harder to come by.

He saw Effie twice a year now, a week of summer vacation and the week between Christmas and New Year’s. He made the trip to California. In spite of his coaxing, she’d never once visited him in Dallas.

He downed the last of his drink and then went back to the bar and refilled his glass. He’d just set the bottle down when he heard a timid tapping at his door. No doubt one of his neighbors since a visitor had to have a key to the building or else be buzzed inside by a tenant.

He ignored the would-be visitor and loosened his tie.

There was another knock, this one much louder than the first. Irritated, Leif walked to the door and peered through the keyhole to see who was so persistent.

Tattered jeans. A gray hoodie. Bright amber eyes shadowed by smeared mascara peering from beneath strands of dark, wet hair that had fallen over her forehead. A jolt rocked along his nerve endings.

His hands shook as he opened the door to greet the last person he’d expected to see tonight.

Copyright © 2014 by Jo Ann Vest