Stripped Naked (Naked Cowboys) (2 page)

The pace of life here was slower. Much more enjoyable. In two years he’d have to stand for election, but according to Matt Stark there weren’t a lot of people waiting in line for the job. Matt had been one of three people who’d interviewed him when he applied and they’d taken an instant liking to each other. In fact, Matt was the only person besides his old boss who knew the entire story of what had happened in San Antonio. He planned to keep it that way. Burying the memory was the only way to deal with it.

Little by little, he made himself a part of the community. He’d bought a small house at the edge of town, one with a couple of acres where he could keep a horse if he ever tried to ride again.

Gotta have a horse when you work in horse country.

He was actually looking forward to it. Not much happened around here except for some malicious mischief, a few speeders and maybe unlawful discharge of firearms. The pace here was slow enough that he could enjoy life a little. That had been one of the biggest draws when he’d interviewed for the job. If he ever thought about changing his mind, the constant ache in his thigh was enough to dissuade him.

“Glad to see you working so hard.”

Dillon grinned at Matt Stark standing in the doorway to the office.

“Your tax dollars at work, my friend.”

Matt laughed and dropped into one of the uncomfortable chairs in front of the desk. “Maybe we can drum up a little more crime in the county.”

Dillon sat up in his chair and leaned forward. “Actually, what we’ve got here is just fine with me, thank you very much.”

“Not missing the tempo of the big city? All those criminals you had to keep chasing?”

Dillon rubbed his thigh. “Nope. Not missing the gun battles either.”

Matt’s face sobered. “No, I don’t imagine you are. How’s the leg, anyway?”

“Still reminding me that I made the right move coming here. And thanks for your help with that, by the way.”

Matt shrugged. “Just wanted the best man for the job.”

When the previous sheriff had a heart attack and died literally at his desk, the county had advertised for a replacement. Matt had headed up the interview committee and convinced the others that Dillon Cross and Rowan County were a good fit for each other. The two men had become friends, a situation that continued to ease Dillon’s way into the community.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the visit,” Dillon said, “but did you drop by to shoot the breeze or do you have some crime you need to report?” He chuckled. “Cattle rustling, maybe?”

Matt owned one of the biggest ranches in the county. His sister had been an active partner until her recent marriage. Now she served as ranch manager for the spread she and her new husband Buck Montgomery owned.

“Actually, I’m here with an invitation from my sister to come to her ranch for dinner Saturday night. Reenie and I will be there, of course. Nothing fancy. Just cold beer and steaks on the grill.”

“I hate to horn in on a family meal.”

“You aren’t. Like I said, just a casual evening. Give you a chance to talk to someone besides yourself.” He grinned. “But I warn you, Reenie will be eying you as a prospect for the Cattleman’s Ball, trying to decide which of her friends she wants to match you up with.”

Dillon laughed again. “Tell her to do her best. I’m single and glad to stay that way.”

His relationship had blown up when he got shot, his fiancée deciding she couldn’t take the strain of being married to a lawman after all. He was blessedly single now and determined to stay that way.

After Matt left, he went back to studying a report on his computer, trying to absorb the details, until Cheryl called to him from her dispatch station.

“Hot call, Sheriff. Neil Guthrie says he’s got a body on State Road 45 about four miles out of town.”

Dillon stood up so fast he nearly knocked over his chair. “A dead body? In Rowan County?” he looked at Matt. “You didn’t tell me you had real crime here.”

“We don’t, usually.”

“He says the body’s naked as a baby,” Cheryl added.

“A naked body?” Matt groaned. “That ought to be interesting. I’d better get out of your hair so you can get going on it.”

“Does he know who it is?” Dillon asked.

“Says it’s such a mess he can’t tell. Someone blew his face off with a shotgun.”

Well, hell.

He thought he’d left all that behind.

Matt lifted his eyebrows. “Damn. We haven’t had something like that in as long as I can remember. You’d better get to it.”

“Tell him I’m on my way,” Dillon called to the dispatcher. He picked up the keys to his county-owned SUV and rounded the desk. “And get someone else out there with him to help contain the scene.”

“Neil said Greg Benson was patrolling not too far away and is already headed there.”

“Good.” He opened the door of one of the interview rooms where his forensics officer, Lieutenant Ric Nevada, was reviewing some files. “Hey, Ric. We’ve actually got a crime that can use your skills. A body on State Road 45. A naked one at that.”

Ric looked up, an expression of disbelief crossing his face. “No kidding? Let me blow the dust off my kit and get it there.”

“Cheryl will give you the exact location. Dillon turned to Matt. “Listen—”

Matt held up a hand. “I understand. Go ahead, get going. See you Saturday night. About seven o’clock.”

Jinx was making notes for the staff meeting she planned to have in the morning when Lew yelled at her from the bullpen.

“Hey, Jinx. Come hear what’s on the scanner. Hurry.”

The newspaper kept a police scanner on the wide counter mostly because her father liked to know what was going on in the county.

“You never know when a hot story will show,” he’d always said with a grin.

Jinx thought it was just because he liked having one, like a toy. She couldn’t imagine what would have Lew so hot and bothered. Her heel snagged on something on the floor and she caught the edge of a desk to keep from falling.

“You shouldn’t run around here in those high heels,” Lew admonished. “You might break your neck.”

Shit, him too? “My shoes are fine,” she snapped. “What’s up?”

“Listen.”

She heard Neil Guthrie’s voice speaking to dispatch. “Yeah, Cheryl. That’s right. A dead body. On State Road 45 about four miles west of town.”

“Are you serious?”

Even with the distortion from the scanner, Jinx could hear the surprise in Cheryl’s voice.

“As a heart attack. And it’s totally naked.”

“I’ll get the sheriff out there right away.”

Holy crap. A murder here in laidback Rowan County? She thought she’d left all that behind in New York, but it seemed crime happened anywhere. Jinx looked at her watch. If she hustled she could get the bare bones of a story and at least one photo to go with it for Friday’s edition.

“Beep Andy in the print shop,” she hollered to Sheila. “Tell him I’ll be making a change to the front page.”

She ran for her office to get her keys, trying at the same time to catch the rest of the transmission. Heading toward the back door to the parking lot she hollered to Lew, “Grab a camera and come on. We need to get there before they move the body.”

Lew grabbed what he needed and followed her, jumping into her car as she cranked the ignition.

“Holy shit!” He clutched his camera as Jinx made a sharp turn onto the street. “I don’t know if we’ve ever had a dead body here.”

“I’m sure you have at some time or other.” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “After all, everyone dies sooner or later.”

“I meant in a ditch. And naked. Like this. Oh, wait.” He smacked his forehead. “Can we show a naked body in the paper?”

“Let’s get there and see what’s going on before we decide what we can and can’t print.”

But she could feel a tiny thrill race through her just the same. Her first day as publisher and she had a story more likely to be found in the city. It beat the story on the new cooking school and the latest meeting of the zoning commission by a hot mile.

She didn’t have to look hard to find the crime scene. The circus might have been easier to overlook. Cars and trucks were lined up on the shoulder on both sides of the road, the gawkers crowding as close to the action as they could get. Some people were sitting on open tailgates with coolers and sandwiches, watching the show unfold. It reminded her of the time Hank Genessee’s big field of coastal hay caught fire and half the county showed up and made a tailgate party out of it. Then again, up until today nothing very exciting had happened in Rowan County, population twenty-five thousand, so anything exciting brought out the lookie loos.

The new sheriff’s SUV as well as two deputy cars were parked at angles, blocking one lane. Neil Guthrie and another deputy were doing their best to direct traffic around the mess and desperately trying to move along the people who wanted to stop and stare.

Orange cones marked off the area where the body had been found and yellow crime-scene tape was strung as a barricade. The body itself was barely visible, mostly concealed by the people surrounding it. She recognized Ric Nevada crouched down with what she assumed to be his crime-scene kit open next to him. On the other side of him, she spotted Don Obregon, a doctor who doubled as the head of the family clinic that served the county and the medical examiner if and when they needed one.

But it was the man standing behind Ric who caught her attention. She guessed his height at six feet. His broad shoulders strained at the seams of the sport jacket he wore with an open-collared shirt and jeans that clung to long legs that ended in western boots. She’d heard the new sheriff didn’t like wearing the tan uniform that came with the office.

“Informed the commissioner that people should respect the law no matter what he wore,” her father had told her.

Jinx guessed he was right. His presence fairly shimmered with a quiet air of obvious authority and control.

Just as she reached the scene, he turned in her direction and a shock sizzled through her as if electrodes had been attached to her skin. Everything in her body tightened and throbbed and unwanted heat warmed her skin. Instantly, her nipples hardened and her thong became soaked, her body responding to the sight of him with an unexpectedly visceral reaction.

Holy shit!

After the disaster with Max she had so sworn off men, especially hot ones like this one. So why didn’t her body get the message?

His gaze connected with hers and heat flared in his eyes for a quick second. Apparently the same electricity had zapped him too. Then the professional mask was back in place. He placed his hands on his hips, which brushed back the lapels of the jacket just enough for her to catch a glimpse of the gun he wore in a shoulder holster.

“Sorry.” His voice was deep and slightly raspy. “This is a restricted area. My deputies should have stopped you from coming so close.”

She swallowed, hard, and hoped her reaction to him didn’t show.

“Your deputies know who I am.” She held out her hand. “Jinx Malone. I’m the publisher of
The Hill Country Herald.
I believe you met my father when you first arrived in town.”

“Sheriff Dillon Cross.” He shook hands briefly. “Yes, I did. I thought he ran the paper.”

“Only until this morning.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s right. I think he mentioned he was thinking of retiring.”

“Well, that’s what he did. Gave me the keys and took off with my mother in their camper for parts unknown.”

“Just like that?” The sheriff frowned. “It’s really none of my business, but shouldn’t you know something about running a paper before taking it over?”

What a smartass.

“I know a lot about it,” she snapped. “I grew up with that newspaper and I’ve spent ten years in New York learning even more. I assure you, the
Herald
is in good hands. And you’re right, it isn’t any of your business. As long as I get the facts right you have nothing to complain about.”

Holy cow, Jinx! Back off a little. Why are you letting this guy push your buttons?

Maybe because I had instant lust the minute I saw him? I can’t afford that. Not now. Not again. Not ever.

“Glad to hear it.” She watched his eyes as he took note of the way she was crowding the tape roping off the area. “I’m sure in New York you also learned you can’t go tramping around crime scenes.”

Jinx pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It wouldn’t do any good to get this man angry at her right off the bat. The publisher of the newspaper was supposed to cultivate goodwill with the locals, not tromp all over it. She’d have to get back to the less-than-frantic ambience of the area all over again.

“You’re right. And I’m not—what did you call it?—tramping around your crime scene.” She tried on a smile. “Just trying to get the facts to report them to my readers. I, um, had them hold the paper so I could get this on the front page of this week’s edition.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I don’t much care for reporters.”

She wanted to smack him. “Well, we should get along just fine since I don’t much care for cops.”