“But now he’s the man who saved Kerra Bailey, TV personality. Anyhow, I felt the sheriff should be alerted to the arrival of a TV crew and the excitement that will generate. Lodal is the county seat but basically a small town.”

She’d been in the area for only a few hours, but already she’d gotten a sense of place. The town and surrounding ranch land were far removed from the metropolitan sprawl of Dallas and Fort Worth, not only geographically but in atmosphere and mind-set.

“I’m afraid our presence will create a stir,” she admitted.

“News of the interview will spread like wildfire. By noon tomorrow everybody will know. Put the sheriff’s number in your phone, so you can call him immediately if you need him.”

She laughed. “I doubt there’ll be that much of a stir.”

“I’m not joking, Kerra. Put Glenn’s number on speed dial.”

Mystified, but subdued by his no-nonsense tone, she promised she would.

He looked like he had more to say, but he glanced at the pizza box. “It’s getting cold.”

She followed him to the door. “Will you be watching Sunday night?”

“No.”

He hadn’t given it a moment’s consideration, which was unsurprising but disappointing. Feeling awkward and illogically deflated, she said, “I guess this is goodbye, Trapper.”

“Guess so.”

“Drive safely.”

“I’m stone sober. Parking meters can rest easy tonight.”

She gave a quick smile and stuck out her hand to shake with him. “For any inconvenience I’ve caused you, I apologize. I know I was an unwelcome and unexpected intrusion into your life.” Then, quoting him, she said, “Bad things happen when you least expect them.”

“So do good things.” The low pitch of his voice caused heat to blossom in her middle. Rather than shake her hand, his right one curved around the back of her neck and pulled her up until she was on tiptoe. “What I said about kissing you …”

“If you had it to do over?”

“Happens I do.”

Her mouth was stamped with all things wonderfully masculine: the agreeable prickliness of scruff, the sureness of lips that knew what they wanted and how to get it, the deft and possessive slide of tongue.

All too soon it was over. He set her away from him but kept his hand clamped around the back of her neck for a few seconds longer, his eyes searching hers.

Then Kerra was struck with a blast of cold air, and he was gone.

Chapter 6

The present

Jesus, who’d’ve believed it? Only a few hours after that interview, now she looks like she’s been run over by a tank, and The Major …”

The whispered words drifted toward Kerra through the fog of semiconsciousness, and she resented the intrusion. She preferred being wrapped in the warm cocoon of oblivion.

The voice continued with a question. “Have you seen him?”

“They wouldn’t let me in yet.”

“Just as well. He looks bad. I won’t shit you.”

“Thanks for calling me when you did, Glenn.”

“Soon as I got out there, saw the mess. God, it was awful.”

“I know it couldn’t have been easy for you.”

Kerra wanted them to stop talking. She’d been kept in what the medical staff had called a twilight state. She’d been able to respond as they’d assessed and treated her injuries: Kerra, can you lift your arm? Does this hurt? This may sting a little. Lie still so we can get a good image.

After what had seemed like hours of torture, she’d been left alone and allowed to sleep. But now wakefulness was encroaching, and she didn’t welcome it. She was reluctant to return to the bright, cruel place where horrible memories lay in wait.

But avoidance was cowardly. She pried open her eyes.

Two men stood at the foot of her bed.

The one in uniform was Sheriff Addison. The two times she’d met him this week, he’d been wearing the cowboy hat he was now holding at his side.

Beside him was Trapper, looking directly at her with eyes as piercing and incisive as laser beams.

The sheriff was saying, “After the interview, she’d stayed behind while the rest of them went to fuel up their van. According to her producer, Kerra wanted to say a private goodbye to The Major and thank him for giving her the ‘holy grail of interviews.’ That’s a quote.” After a pause, he said, “John, when you came to my house the other night, did you know she was the kid in the picture?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Wasn’t my secret to divulge.”

The sheriff sighed heavily. “I guess Kerra and The Major didn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

Trapper said darkly, “They got their surprise, all right.”

Kerra’s heart constricted. It hadn’t been a nightmare, then. The Major was dead, and she’d heard the gunshot that had killed him. She closed her eyes again and wished she could will herself back into the dusky bliss of forgetfulness.

But the disruptive recital continued.

“When the crew came back for her, they found The Major lying across the threshold of his front door. Called 911. First responders told me that when they got there, those people were huddled in their van, freaking out. Not only had they seen what nobody should ever have to see, but for all they knew the killer was lurking around, and they were scared for their friend here, who was nowhere to be found.

“Meanwhile, I was working late at the office catching up on paperwork. A deputy tapped on the door and told me there was an emergency situation out at The Major’s place. I asked him the nature of the emergency, and he said he didn’t know. But he did, because he couldn’t look me in the eye.

“As I walked through the squad room, somebody, I don’t even remember who, tried to waylay me, told me that our detectives were already on the scene and would handle things, that I didn’t need to go. They said Hank had been notified and was on his way to me.

“But I needed to act, to do something, not hold hands in a prayer circle. I gotta tell you, though, when I walked up the porch steps and saw The Major, the sight nearly brought me to my knees.” He made a strangling sound and coughed.

Silently Kerra implored him to please stop there. She didn’t want to hear this, didn’t want to know.

But once he’d composed himself, he continued. “Dealing with that was tough enough, but along with it was the missing woman. That small bathroom in the hall? The lock was busted all to hell. The window was open. Ground outside showed scuff marks. We hoped she’d managed to get away, but truth is, we were expecting to find her body, because the bastards meant business. One of my deputies—”

“Hold on,” Trapper said. “Bastards, plural?”

“We think there were at least two. The Major was shot with a nine-millimeter. But something bigger than a pistol had shattered the door lock. I’m thinking the stock of a shotgun, because it appeared that one took out the top of a tree and blasted a boulder. Probably fired from the bathroom window.”

A silence ensued before the sheriff continued. “Kerra was finally spotted by one of my deputies. You know that drop-off behind the house that goes down to the creek bed? Looked like she went sailing right over the edge and didn’t stop till she hit bottom, which is essentially a rock pile unless it’s rained real hard. She was banged up, near to freezing, but alive.” He paused for a few seconds. “She got lucky. Guess we did, too. We have a witness to whoever shot The Major.”

Needing to disabuse him of that, Kerra opened her eyes and tried to focus on him. When he realized that she was awake and aware, he took a step closer to the foot of the bed. “Ms. Bailey. Do you know where you are?”

“Hospital.”

“That’s right. You recognize me?”

“Of course.”

“And you’ve met Trapper here.”

“Yes.”

Trapper didn’t move or speak.

“How long have I been here?”

“Few hours. It’s going on four a.m. Monday.” The sheriff’s voice was gentle, but he got down to business. “Do you remember last evening? The TV interview and what happened after?”