The Sheriff (3 page)

Careful not to disturb the body, he started snapping away, including the outside of the car and the tags. When he reached the driver’s-side door, he noticed blood on the outside and then the tracks, patterns in the dirt as if someone had crawled from the car.

“Anyone out here?” he yelled, tilting the beam as far as it would project and following distinct shoe impressions. “I’m with the Marfa Sheriff’s Department and here to help.”

He shoved the camera in his pocket and picked up his pace. Two or three minutes passed, the footprints grew more erratic and then the bottom of a shoe came into view.

“Hello?” He ran to a woman lying facedown in the sand. She was visibly breathing, but unresponsive to shaking her shoulder. He verified no broken bones and no wounds, then rolled her over.

There was a lot of blood on her white tank, but no signs of any bleeding. He dusted the sand from her young face. Smooth skin.
That won’t go in the report.
Caucasian. Short brown hair. Blue eyes, responsive to light.

“Ma’am? Can you hear me?”

The accident couldn’t have happened that long ago. The hood of the car had been warm. Should he move her? There could be multiple things wrong with her. He ran his hands over her body checking for broken bones. She wasn’t responding to stimulation. She needed immediate care and the ambulance was an hour out. That sealed it. He scooped her into his arms and rushed her back to his car.

Once he had her buckled, he picked up the microphone. “Peach!”

He returned along the same tire tracks, picking up his speed since he knew the path was clear.

“Bored already?” Peach asked.

“I’m transporting a survivor to Alpine General. Found her fifty yards or so from the car.”

“Lord have mercy. I’ll let them know you’re on your way.”

The car hit a bump and he heard a moan and mumbling from next to him. Good sign. “Hang in there, ma’am.”

Slowing as he hit the road’s pavement, he could swear the woman begged him not to let the aliens get her.

The Marfa Lights sure did attract a lot of kooks.

Chapter Three

“I’ve told you several times now, I’m not sure what rammed me off the road. It had to be a chopper, but the lights blinded me and I never got a good look at what model.”

Everyone seemed to know the man who had brought Andrea to the hospital. He leaned his broad shoulders against the wall closest to the door. He’d scribbled notes and asked questions while the doctors looked her over. And almost every other sentence had been spent correcting someone congratulating him for his new position as sheriff.

Pardon,
acting
sheriff.

A sprained wrist, a minor concussion and dirty clothes, that was the extent of her accident injuries. Her favorite jeans were ruined. Not to mention Sharon’s car.

The nurse said she could get her a hospital gown, but the good-looking deputy hadn’t offered to leave the room while she changed. Ruined and filthy clothes would just have to do. She’d feel too open and exposed in front of
Acting
Sheriff Pete Morrison.

It was hardly fair to have such an attractive lawman interrogating her. It made her mind wander to forbidden topics, so it was much safer to remain completely covered.

“How tall are you?” he asked, flipping another page in his notebook.

“Five-nine. How could that be important?” As tall as she was, she’d have to tiptoe to kiss him. What was wrong with her thinking? Had she hit her head a little too hard? Of course she had. Hello. Concussion!

“Just being thorough.”

She watched him sort of hide a grin, draw his brows together in concentration and drop his gaze to her chest. So he’d noticed the pink bra? No worries. Why?
Because he’s extremely cute, that’s why.

“You’re certain you didn’t hear anything? The man who ‘came from the desert,’ as you put it, he didn’t say anything?” he asked.

“I don’t think so. By the way, how is that guy doing? Is he still in surgery? I keep asking, but no one seems to know anything about him. This is the only hospital, right?”

The nurse looked confused when Andrea had asked earlier. This time she turned to the sheriff, who shook his head, then shrugged. Everyone coming into the room had looked to the young sheriff for permission to speak and been denied.

“Can you tell us who your friend is?” he asked, flashing bright blue eyes her direction.

“Check your notes, Sheriff Morrison. I’m certain I told you he wasn’t my friend. That was sometime between having my temperature taken and my wrist x-rayed.”

“Yes, ma’am, you did say that.” The sheriff looked at his notes and flipped to the previous page. “No need to call me Sheriff. Pete will do.”

“Guess there’s nothing wrong with her memory, Pete,” the nurse said as she continued to wrap Andrea’s left hand, pausing several times to smile at the hunky man.

Andrea had regained consciousness in the emergency room with a horrible smell wafting under her nose. It wasn’t her first time for smelling salts. She’d gotten rammed a couple of times as a shortstop on the softball field in college. She could just imagine what her mother would say when she told her parents about this sprain. Peggy Allen would be glad her daughter was uninjured and it was simply a miracle how her middle daughter had managed to avoid a car accident until the ripe old age of twenty-six.

Not a miracle to her father, who had taught her how to drive like a naval aviator late for a launch at NASA. That was a phone call she dreaded. At least it could wait until morning. No sense worrying her parents tonight.

“How’s that, Miss Allen?” the nurse asked, securing the last bit of elastic bandage around her wrist. Miraculously—to use her mother’s word—the slight ache was the only pain she experienced. Other than a headache from the concussion.

“Great. Thanks. Can I go now?”

“I just need to get the doctor’s signature and I can get your discharge papers.” The nurse put her supplies away, smiled prettily again at the annoying officer. “See you, Pete.”

“What’s your hurry?” the good-looking man asked as she left.

At first she thought he was flirting with the nurse. He dipped his dimpled chin, raised his eyebrows, expectantly waiting...

“Oh, you mean me? I’m not overly fond of hospitals.” Oh, Lordy, he really had a dimpled chin. She was a sucker for that little cleft under rugged, nice lips.
Whoa.

How could his straight brows rise even higher? It was as if getting asked a question made him feel guilty for not answering, or he assumed she’d seen a lot of hospitals. Either way, she immediately regretted giving the officer any insight into her character. “The answer to your question, Sheriff, is no. I haven’t escaped from a loony bin. I told you, I’m a PhD candidate working at the McDonald Observatory.”

“I didn’t say a word.”

“Your face says enough without your lips moving.” She covered her mouth with her good hand to make herself shut up. The annoying man just laughed and grinned even bigger. “What are you waiting on, anyway? I told you I can phone and get a ride home. The student I was covering for is already in Alpine. Somewhere.”

He pulled a cell from his pocket. “Use mine.”

She held her hand out, wincing at the soreness already setting into her muscles. It didn’t matter, she had no idea what Sharon’s number was without recovering her cell from the Viewing Area.

“I don’t know her number.”

She hated to think what a cab ride to the north side of Fort Davis would cost. If they even had cabs in Alpine, Texas, that traveled the fifty miles or so outside the city. She’d probably have to bribe the driver by paying him double.

“We tried to locate the owner of the car, but the listing is in Austin.”

“I did mention she’s a student.”

He stood straighter, slipping the cell back in his chest pocket. “To answer your question, I’m still here because I need your official statement and I thought you might need a ride back to wherever you’re staying in Fort Davis.”

“Oh. Thanks. That’s very considerate of you. I’m at the observatory, actually. I guess you do things differently here.”

“Spent a lot of time with the law back home?”

She just stared at him. The man was actually being extremely nice. And seemed to be charming. Part of his expressive nature, she surmised.

“We’d never get along.” She clamped her hand over her mouth again.

“I don’t know about that. I like a woman who speaks her mind. Kinda refreshing.”

“They gave me a pain pill. It must have gone straight to my mouth.”

He nodded and covered a grin by rubbing long fingers over his lips. “I was here before the pain pill. You weren’t exactly holding back then, either.”

For some reason she wanted to push her hands through his slightly mussed hair and see the sandy waviness up close.
Wow.
What had the doctors given her to make her think like this? She had to remain professional.

“Do you think I did something wrong, Sheriff?”

“Miss Allen—”

“Please, my name’s Andrea.” She checked out her torn black jeans and ragged undershirt still stained with blood, not feeling like a Miss anything.

“Andrea. We’ve done some checking.”

“Don’t tell me, there weren’t any planes or helicopters flying in that area. So I actually saw a UFO.” She was trying to be cutesy or sarcastic or just funny. A giggle even escaped, but the expression on the officer’s face didn’t indicate that he was laughing with her. In fact, he looked dead serious. “I’m joking, you know.”

“You did mention that aliens were chasing you.”

“I was referring to illegal immigrants. Or maybe I was just delirious from being knocked out cold. I never once seriously thought I was being chased by an extraterrestrial, something foreign to this modern age of flying machines. I study the stars. I don’t live in them.” Exhausted, she wanted to lie back on the examining table and sleep. “I’m here working on my last dissertation.”

The room tilted. Or maybe she did. It was hard to tell. She was conscious of falling, knew it was about to happen before it did. The heaviness of her arms prevented her from stopping herself. She didn’t hit the floor.

Instead, a firm grip kept her in place, then lowered her to the pillow.

He had the best hands. Strong, short practical nails. Firm. And she shouldn’t forget how quick. He’d taken a step and caught her as she swayed.

“Maybe we should talk later?”

“I’m sorry, Sheriff.” She rubbed her head and winced at the little bump. “I’m...sort...of...woozy.”

“Not a problem. I’m not going anywhere. And it’s Pete.”

“I’m Andrea.” She could really get into liking that mouth of his. “You have a super-cute smile. Did I—” A yawn escaped and she almost couldn’t remember what she was saying. “Oh, yeah. Did I tell you I like your smile?”

“I think you did, Miss Allen. I think you need to get some shut-eye.”

She turned into his hand, still holding her shoulder. She caught a clean, musky scent before letting her heavy eyelids close and stay that way. “Can’t think of a better place to do it.”

*

T
HE
SHERIFF
WHO’D
taken Andrea’s statement stood outside the door, which was open just a crack. The person he spoke to was in scrubs. Maybe the nurse who’d checked her out earlier, maybe someone new. Shoot, it could be the doctor there to discharge her. She didn’t know. She grabbed the side of the bed and began pushing herself upright, jerking to a stop as a hiss of pain whistled between her teeth.

“Wow, that really hurts.” Her wrist was bandaged. Funny, she could remember everything except that her wrist was sprained.

“I’m headed back to the scene,” Pete said. “I’m waiting on the local PD who are going to stay with Miss Allen until we have a few more facts.”

“What if we need the room?”

“Mrs. Yardly, it might be a Friday night in downtown Alpine, but when was the last time the ER filled up?”

The casual stance and charm disappeared quickly as a balding man approached, flipping open a flat wallet. The kind she’d seen many times before.

The Suit Man seemed to have no personality. He wasn’t attempting to make friends. His straight, thin lips never curved into an approachable welcome. “Steven Manny, Department of Homeland Security. I’m here for Andrea Allen.”

“I was told local police would be here to escort her to the observatory,” the sheriff answered, shifting his right hand near the top of his gun.

“I have a few questions and will make certain she gets returned to her residence. You’re relieved.” A light knuckle tap on the door and Suit Man walked inside. “Miss Allen, are you ready?”

She nodded but locked eyes with Pete, silently imploring the sheriff not to leave her alone. Before she verbalized the words, he stepped into the room behind the new guy and closed the door.

“She passed out a few minutes ago and they’re not ready to discharge her.”

“We understand your concern, but we’re moving. Now. Miss Allen.” He gestured for her to head to the door.

As anxious as she was to escape the hospital before landing in Pete’s arms, she was scared to leave without him. The guy demanding she put on her shoes wasn’t the average government-issued suit.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“That’s classified.”

“I won’t tell anyone.” Pete seemed taller, firmer. He waved his hand for her to stay put. “Think you can give me another look at your badge?”

When Pete took another step, ready to do battle, the Suit shoved his forearm across the sheriff’s windpipe. Andrea jumped to her feet to help but received a backhand with the Suit’s free arm, knocking her across the small emergency room bed.

Pete was no slouch. He was younger, three or four inches taller and in really good shape. His strength kicked in and he shoved Suit Man straight into the path of her hospital-socked feet. Without shoes she couldn’t do much damage, but she did put a heel in Suit Man’s gut, hurtling him into the supply cabinet.

Pete was there, swung his left fist and connected with Suit Man’s jaw, sending him flying backward into the door. Her rescuer swung again, connected a second time. She recognized the panic in Suit Man’s eyes. He knew he’d failed.