Cold Case at Cobra Creek

A Native American tracker makes it his mission to bring a missing child home, just in time for Christmas…

After two years, Sage Freeport had all but given up hope of seeing her little boy again…until she met Dugan Graystone. They shared a disdain for local law enforcement, the same folks who’d hindered Sage’s efforts to find her son. As an expert tracker, the broad-shouldered Native American was sure he could find the child—even if he had to leave Texas to do it. Spending time with Sage, watching as she broke down every time a lead didn’t pan out, Dugan worked harder than he ever had before. Now, with Christmas just days away, Dugan knew Sage trusted him to give her the greatest gift of all: bringing Benji home.…

Dugan yanked the wheel to the left to avoid crashing into the other vehicle, then swung the SUV to the side of the road and threw it in Park.

He jumped out and ran toward the burning vehicle.

The driver had shot at them. Tried to kill them.

Why? Because she was asking questions about her son?

She jerked herself from her immobilized state and climbed out. Dugan circled the car, peering into the window as if looking for a way to get the driver out. But the gas tank blew, another explosion sounded and flames engulfed the vehicle.

Sweat beaded on her forehead, the heat scalding her. She backed away, hugging the side of the SUV as she watched Dugan. He must have realized it was impossible to save the driver because he strode back toward her, his expression grim.

“Someone doesn’t like us asking questions, Sage. But that means we might be on the right track to finding some answers.”

COLD CASE AT
COBRA CREEK

Rita Herron

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Award-winning author Rita Herron wrote her first book when she was twelve, but didn’t think real people grew up to be writers. Now she writes so she doesn’t have to get a
real
job. A former kindergarten teacher and workshop leader, she traded storytelling to kids for writing romance, and now she writes romantic comedies and romantic suspense. She lives in Georgia with her own romance hero and three kids. She loves to hear from readers, so please write her at
P.O. Box 921225, Norcross, GA 30092-1225, or visit her website,
www.ritaherron.com
.

Books by Rita Herron

HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE

  861—MYSTERIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES+
  892—VOWS OF VENGEANCE+
  918—RETURN TO FALCON RIDGE
  939—LOOK-ALIKE+
  957—FORCE OF THE FALCON
  977—JUSTICE FOR A RANGER
1006—ANYTHING FOR HIS SON
1029—UP IN FLAMES+
1043—UNDER HIS SKIN+
1063—IN THE FLESH+
1081—BENEATH THE BADGE
1097—SILENT NIGHT SANCTUARY§§
1115—PLATINUM COWBOY
1132—COLLECTING EVIDENCE
1159—PEEK-A-BOO PROTECTOR
1174—HIS SECRET CHRISTMAS BABY§§
1192—RAWHIDE RANGER
1218—UNBREAKABLE BOND§§
1251—BRANDISHING A CROWN
1284—THE MISSING TWIN¤
1290—HER STOLEN SON¤
1323—CERTIFIED COWBOY**
1329—COWBOY IN THE EXTREME**
1336—COWBOY TO THE MAX**
1390—COWBOY COP**
1396—NATIVE COWBOY**
1401—ULTIMATE COWBOY**
1407—COVER ME
            “Bayou Jeopardy”
1463—COLD CASE ATCAMDEN CROSSING
1468—COLD CASE AT CARLTON’S CANYON
1531—COLD CASE AT COBRA CREEK

+Nighthawk Island
§§Guardian Angel Investigations
¤Guardian Angel Investigations:
Lost and Found
**Bucking Bronc Lodge

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Sage Freeport—
Her son, Benji, has been missing for two years—is he dead or alive?

Dugan Graystone—
This expert tracker will do anything to find Benji and bring him home for Christmas.

Sheriff Gandt—
He thinks he owns the town—how far will he go to keep it that way?

Ron Lewis—
Sage’s fiancé ran off with Benji and ended up dead. Did the man’s killer take Sage’s son?

Donnell Ernest—
Ron conned him out of his land—did he murder Ron Lewis?

Wilbur Rankins—
He killed himself out of shame over letting Lewis rob him of his land—but was his death really a suicide?

Lloyd Riley—
Did he kill Lewis to regain control of his ranch?

Janelle Dougasville—
Lewis’s foster sister. Does she know what he did with Benji?

Eloise Bremmer, Maude Handleman and Carol Tinsley—
Lewis’s former girlfriends and/or wives. Did one of them kill him when they discovered he’d lied to them?

Sandra Peyton—
Lewis’s first love. Does she know where Benji is?

To all the Harlequin Intrigue fans—thanks for reading me
all these years!

Contents

Prologue

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

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Excerpt

Prologue

Sage Freeport vowed never to trust a man again.

Not after the way Trace Lanier had treated her. Promises of love and happily ever after—until she’d gotten pregnant.

Then those promises had evaporated, like rain on a strip of scorching-hot pavement
.

Her three-year-old Benji had never met his father. She’d worried about him not having a man in his life and done her best to be two parents in one. Still, she couldn’t throw a softball worth a darn, and baiting her own hook to go fishing at the pond literally made her feel faint.

Then Ron Lewis had come along a few months ago and swept her off her feet with his kindness and intelligence—and treated Benji like his own son.

Her gaze strayed to the tabletop tree she and Benji had decorated just yesterday. Together they’d made ornaments to hang on the tree, and when he was asleep last night, she’d wrapped his gift. He was going to be ecstatic on Christmas morning to find the softball and glove he’d asked for.

She pulled a pan of homemade cinnamon rolls from the oven to let them cool before her guests at the B and B she owned surfaced for breakfast, then went upstairs to check on her son.

Benji was normally up by now, underfoot in the kitchen when she was cooking—chatting and asking questions and sneaking bacon as soon as she took it off the pan.

But when she opened Benji’s door, he wasn’t in bed. A few toys were scattered around the floor, a sign he’d gotten up to play after she’d tucked him in the night before.

Figuring he was playing some imaginary game, she darted into his bathroom.

But he wasn’t there, either.

She checked under his bed and frowned. “Benji? Where are you, honey?”

No answer.

Her heartbeat stuttered for a moment, but she told herself not to panic. The inn was a big house. The B and B held eight rooms, although most of them were empty at the time. With the holidays approaching, most people were staying home, going to visit family or flying to some exotic location for a winter vacation, not visiting small-town Texas.

She peeked inside Benji’s closet but didn’t see him. Yet the dresser drawer stood open, and his clothes looked as if he’d pawed through them.

Probably to dress himself. He was three and starting to vie for independence that way. She just had to teach him how to match colors now.

Then she noticed his backpack was missing.

Her heart suddenly racing, she turned and looked at his room again. The big bear he normally slept with wasn’t in his bed. Not on the floor or in the room at all. Neither was the whistle he liked or his favorite red hat.

But his blanket was there. He’d never go anywhere without that blue blanket.

Fear seized her, but she fought it off.

Surely Benji was just pretending he was on a camping trip. He and Ron had been talking about hiking the other night. Ron had even asked Benji which one of his special friends/toys he would carry with him if he was going on a long trip.

The bear, whistle and red cap were on his list.

Her hands shaking as other scenarios taunted her, she raced down the hall to the empty rooms and searched inside. No Benji.

Hating to disturb the two guests she did have but panicked now, she knocked on the door to the Ellises’, an elderly couple on an anniversary trip. The gray-haired man opened the door dressed in a robe. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Ellis, but have you seen my son, Benji?”

“No, ma’am. Me and Henrietta been sleeping.”

“Would you mind checking your room in case he snuck in? He’s only three and mischievous at times.”

He scratched his head, sending his wiry hair askew. “Sure.” He left the door open, and Sage watched as he checked under the bed, the closet and adjoining bathroom. “Sorry, Ms. Freeport, he’s not in here.”

Sage’s stomach knotted. If—no,
when
—she found Benji, she would explain that hiding from her was not okay.

She climbed the steps to the third-floor attic room. A woman named Elvira had chosen it, saying she needed solace and to be alone. The poor woman had lost a child, and Sage had given her privacy to mourn.

But Elvira didn’t answer. Sage let herself in and found a note from the lady saying she’d decided to leave early and didn’t want to disturb Sage.

Benji liked this room because the window offered a view of the creek behind the house.

But the room was empty.

Nerves on edge, she ran downstairs, once again checking each room and shouting Benji’s name. She rushed outside, wind beating at her as she searched the yard, the garden out back, the swing set, the fort and the tree house.

Benji was nowhere to be found.

Terrified, she ran back inside to call the sheriff. But the phone was ringing as she entered the kitchen. Maybe a neighbor had found Benji.

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