Buch lesen: «The Deputy's Redemption»

DELORES FOSSEN, a USA TODAY bestselling author, has sold over fifty novels with millions of copies of her books in print worldwide. She’s received the Booksellers’ Best Award and the RT Reviewers’ Choice Award, and was a finalist for a prestigious RITA^® Award. You can contact the author through her webpage at www.dfossen.net.

MILLS & BOON

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Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

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

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Deputy Colt McKinnon caught the blur of motion from the corner of his eye.

He hit the brakes, not hard, because there was likely some ice on the road, and he pulled his truck to a stop on the gravel shoulder.

There.

He saw it again.

Someone wearing light-colored clothes was darting in and out of the trees. Since it was below freezing and nearly ten at night, it wasn’t a good time for someone to be jogging.

Colt took a flashlight from the glove compartment and got out, sliding his hand over the gun in his belt holster, and he tried to pick through the darkness to see what was going on. Thankfully, there was a full moon, and he got another glimpse of the person.

A woman.

She was running and not just an ordinary run, either. She was in a full sprint as if her life depended on it.

Colt hurried down the embankment toward her to see if anything or anybody was chasing her. There were coyotes in the woods, but he’d never heard of a pack going after a human. However, before he could see much of anything else, the woman ducked behind a tree.

“I have a gun!” she shouted.

Ah, hell.

He instantly recognized the voice. Elise Nichols. A voice he darn sure didn’t want to hear at all, much less her yelling about having a gun.

Her house was a good five miles from here, definitely not close by enough for her to be on foot. So what in the Sam Hill was she doing running in the woods in the middle of the night?

“It’s me—Colt,” he said, just in case she thought he was a stranger.

“I know exactly who you are.” Her voice was loud but very shaky. “And I have a gun.”

“So do I,” he snarled, and Colt drew it to prove his point.

Colt hadn’t exactly expected a warm, friendly greeting from Elise, but he hadn’t thought she was to the point of threatening to do him bodily harm.

“What the heck are you running from?” he asked.

She didn’t jump to answer. The only sounds were the February wind rattling through the bare tree branches and his heartbeat pumping like pistons in his ears.

“I’m running from you,” she finally answered.

Colt jerked back his shoulders. That sure wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting. Nor did it make a lick of sense.

“I’m a deputy sheriff of Sweetwater Springs,” he reminded Elise just in case she was drunk or had gone off the deep end and couldn’t remember what was common knowledge around these parts.

And he reminded her also because her comment riled him.

“People generally don’t feel the need to run from me,” he added with a syrupy sweetness that she would know wasn’t the least bit genuine.

“They’d run if you were trying to kill them.”

He tried not to let his mouth drop open, but it was close. “And you think that’s what I’m trying to do to you?”

“I know you are. You ran me off the road about fifteen minutes ago.”

He glanced around, didn’t see another vehicle. But there was a road not too far away, and it would have been the one Elise would likely take to get to and from her place located just outside town. It was possible someone had sideswiped her and maybe she’d hit her head during the collision. That was the only explanation he could think of for a fish story like that one.

“Come out so I can see you,” Colt told her, “and I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

She didn’t answer.

Didn’t move, either.

Fed up with Elise herself, her story, the butt-freezing night and this entire crazy situation, Colt huffed. “Get out here!” he ordered.

“Right. So you can kill me,” she accused. “Then I can’t testify at your mother’s trial.”

Good grief. Colt figured that subject would come up sooner or later. But he hadn’t expected it to come up like this, with Elise accusing him of trying to kill her. His mother, Jewell, was the one about to stand trial for murdering her lover twenty-three years ago.

And Elise would be the key witness for the defense.

That alone was plenty bad enough because Colt figured his mom had indeed killed the guy. Anything that Elise would say in Jewell’s defense could be a lie at best, and at worst it could tear his family to pieces.

Because Elise was expected to testify that not Jewell but rather Colt’s father, Roy, had committed the murder.

No way would Colt or his brothers let that happen.

His father wasn’t going to pay for Jewell’s sins.

But there was also no way Colt would murder a witness to stop that testimony from happening. The badge he wore wasn’t for decoration. He believed in the law. Believed that his mother, and Elise, would get what was coming to them.

Without his help.

“Come on out here,” he repeated. “You probably got sideswiped by a drunk or something.”

“A drunk driving a truck identical to yours,” she countered.

That sent a bristle up his spine, and that bristly feeling went up a significant notch when Elise finally stepped out. He didn’t see a gun, but from her stance, she looked as if she were challenging him to a gunfight in an Old West showdown.

“Call the county sheriff or the Texas Rangers,” she insisted. “I know they won’t try to kill me.”

Colt huffed again and turned the flashlight on her. He prayed she didn’t do something stupid and pull the trigger of the weapon that she claimed she was holding. It was a risk, but he figured Elise was only a liar and not a killer like his mother.

He moved the light over her face and then her body. She was wearing a pale blue coat and a stocking cap, but wisps of her light brown hair were flying in the wind and snapping against her face like little bullwhips.

And yeah, she had a gun.

Pointed right at him.

That didn’t help his racing heartbeat. Nor did the white-knuckle grip she had on the weapon. There were a lot of nerves showing in that grip.

“Put down the gun,” Colt insisted.

“Call the county sheriff,” she insisted right back.

Neither moved. Colt certainly didn’t turn to make that call, but somehow he had to convince Elise to surrender her weapon. And he didn’t want to have to wait the forty-five minutes or so that it would take the county sheriff to get out here.

“It’s not like when we were kids, huh?” Elise said. The corner of her mouth lifted, but it wasn’t a smile. “We used to play cops and robbers with toy guns. You were always the cop. I was the bad guy. Remember?”

In too perfect detail. Once, way too many years ago, Elise had been his best friend. The first girl that he’d kissed. Okay, she’d been his first love.

But he darn sure didn’t feel that way about her now.

Hadn’t felt that way in a long time, either. He wanted to ring her neck for trying to drag his dad into the middle of this murder trial mess.

Colt drew in a long, weary breath. “Look, can we just have a truce? Besides, you really do need to see a doctor. If you were run off the road, you could have bumped your head.”

She touched her fingertips to her temple, just beneath the edge of the stocking cap, and Colt was stunned to see the dark liquid.

Blood.

That did it. He cursed and walked toward her. Colt lowered his gun to his side, just so she’d feel less threatened, but it was clear she was injured and needed help. Even if she didn’t want that help from him.

Elise didn’t lower her gun, however, and she backed up with each step he took. Colt kept watch to make sure her finger didn’t move on the trigger. It didn’t. And when he got close enough to her, he dropped the flashlight and snatched the gun from her hand.

He expected her to try to get it back. Or curse him for taking it, but she turned and ran.

Hell.

Not this.

He really didn’t want to be chasing an injured woman through the woods at night, but Elise was the job now. She’d become that when she’d accused him of attempted murder and pointed the gun at him.

Colt shoved her gun in the back waist of his jeans, grabbed the flashlight and took off after her. For a woman with a bloody head and dazed mind, she ran pretty fast, and it took him several moments to catch up with her. He snagged her by the shoulder, spun her around and pinned her against a tree.

It didn’t put them in the best position. They were now body to body and breathing hard. But at least she wouldn’t be running anywhere.

Colt reholstered his gun so he could use the flashlight to get a look at her head. Yep, there was an angry-looking gash at least two inches long. Not a lot of blood, but she would have taken a hard lick to get that kind of injury.

“Did you hit your head when you went off the road?” he demanded.

She opened her mouth. Closed it. “I’m not sure.” Her eyes were wide. Startled. But Colt couldn’t tell if it was because she was still afraid of him or because of her injuries.

“The air bag deployed,” she said a moment later. “The windshield broke.”

So, something could have come through the glass and smacked her. “What happened then?”

Her mouth started to tremble, but she clamped her teeth over it. She also met him eye to eye, nudged him several inches away from her and hiked up her chin. No doubt trying to look a lot stronger than she felt.

Yeah, that was Elise.

“After I crashed, I heard someone get out of the truck,” Elise finally answered. “The man was armed. Dressed like you.”

Her gaze drifted from his Stetson to his buckskin coat. And lower. To his jeans and boots.

His uniform for this time of year.

“Exactly like you,” she added.

“Plenty of people around here dress like me.” Well, except for the badge. “Plenty of people drive trucks, too. In the dark most trucks look the same.”

There was no indication whatsoever that she believed anything he was saying. Elise just kept staring at him as if trying to piece things together. But Colt figured that was better worked out at the hospital after a doctor had examined her.

Of course, he’d have to file a report. Of course. And he’d have to say that a witness in an upcoming murder trial had accused him of doing her bodily harm. He wasn’t looking forward to having to explain himself, especially when he’d done nothing wrong. Still, that was part of the job, too.

“Come on.” This time Colt hooked his arm around Elise’s waist and got her moving. He was thankful when she didn’t resist. Or collapse. Though she suddenly looked ready to do just that.

“I’ll drop you off at the hospital,” he explained, “and then come back and have a look at your car. Where exactly did you go off the road?”

“Just a few yards from Miller’s Creek. I crashed into the guardrail.”

He knew the exact spot and winced. That creek was deep and icy this time of year. If her car had gone over, then she might have gotten a lot more than just a bloody gash on her head. She could have drowned or died from exposure, especially since there likely wouldn’t have been anyone to come along and rescue her.

He leaned in to smell her breath. No scent of booze. But she did scowl and shoved her elbow against him to get him out of her face.

“I’m not drunk,” she grumbled. “Or crazy. I know what happened, and I know what I saw.”

Yes, and sometimes what a person saw wasn’t the truth. But Colt kept that to himself. No sense getting in an argument about this particular incident.

Or the trial.

Though he was positive Elise hadn’t seen what she thought she’d seen all those years ago, either.

“So, you crashed into the guardrail,” he repeated while he continued to lead her to his truck. “What happened then?”

She took a deep breath. Paused. “I managed to bat down the air bag, and I got out on the passenger’s side. I just started running.”

Colt was about to remind her that she could have run for no reason. But he didn’t get a chance to say anything.

The slash of lights stopped him.

Since the road was only twenty yards or so away, it wasn’t unusual for a vehicle to come this way. But Elise obviously didn’t feel the same.

“Oh, God.” She turned and pulled him behind one of the trees. Elise also reached down and turned off his flashlight.

Colt kept his attention on the truck. It was indeed the same model and color as his. And it wasn’t going at a normal speed. It was inching closer as if the driver was looking for something.

Probably Elise.

And not for the killer-reasons that she believed but maybe the driver was trying to find her to make sure she was okay.

Still, Colt stayed put. Watching. Waiting. Wondering if he, too, had lost his bloomin’ mind to hide behind a tree instead of just trying to have a chat with whoever was behind that steering wheel.

Next to him, Elise’s breath was gusting now, and she had her hand clamped on his left arm like a vise. Every part of her was shaking.

The truck pulled just ahead of Colt’s. Stopped. And the automatic window eased down. It was too dark for him to see inside, but he could just make out the silhouette of a driver. A man, from the looks of it.

The driver turned off his headlights.

That didn’t help the prickly feeling down Colt’s spine.

Nor did the other thing he saw.

He stepped from his truck, taking slow cautious steps while he looked at the ground.

And the man was carrying a gun.

Chapter Two

Oh, God. The man was back, and he would no doubt try to kill her again.

Elise didn’t have any idea who he was, but at least she now knew that it wasn’t Colt who was trying to murder her.

Not at the moment, anyway.

She’d seen the hatred in his eyes. Felt it, too, but thankfully that hadn’t put him in a killing rage.

“Don’t go out there,” she warned him in a whisper when she felt Colt move.

Colt stopped but drew his gun. And he kept watch. Just as she did.

Elise’s heart was in her throat now, every part of her geared up for fight or flight. She was hoping it was a fight that she could win, but it was hard to think straight with her head pounding like a bad toothache.

The man walked from the front of Colt’s truck and down the shoulder of the road. Toward them. But he wasn’t looking exactly in their direction. His gaze was firing all around him.

So, maybe he hadn’t seen them, after all.

Part of her wanted to run out there and confront him, and the other part of her just wanted to see what he planned to do. She figured he wanted to finish what he had started on the Miller’s Creek Bridge.

“Is that the guy who ran you off the road?” Colt asked, his voice barely making a sound.

“I’m pretty sure it is.”

Elise had only gotten a glimpse of him. Or rather a glimpse of his clothes, specifically the midnight-black Stetson that looked identical to the one the Colt had worn since he was a teenager.

Maybe a coincidence.

But with everything else going on, she wasn’t so sure. She had only been back in Sweetwater Springs for a month. Had barely unpacked her things at the house that’d once belonged to her grandparents. But since Elise had arrived, she’d known she wasn’t exactly welcome in town.

“Had you seen him before tonight?” Colt continued, sounding very much like the lawman that he was.

“Earlier today, I saw someone watching me from the parking lot at the grocery store. I thought it was you.”

He made a sound in his throat to indicate it hadn’t been. “I need to bring him in for questioning. This could be just some kind of misunderstanding. I heard something about your previous tenant not being happy about having to give up the place when you moved back.”

No, he hadn’t been. In fact, the guy had trashed the house and left a rude message for her. “I know the tenant, and he’s not the guy.”

Colt stayed quiet a moment, watching the man walk closer to them. “Stay put,” he told her.

And that was the only warning she got before Colt stepped out from cover. “I’m Deputy Colt McKinnon,” he called out. “Who are you?”

It was hard to see much of anything with just the watery moonlight, but the man didn’t lift his gun in their direction, and he stopped, staring across the narrow clearing at Colt.

“Toby Gambil,” he said, practically in a growl.

She repeated the name under her breath, trying to remember if she’d ever heard it. But she hadn’t. And she didn’t recognize that voice, either.

Elise wished she had her laptop handy so she could do a quick check to see what she could pull up on him. It was something she did almost daily. Her job as a corporate security analyst gave her access to all sorts of dirty little secrets.

And she had a bad feeling this guy had some.

“Any reason you’re out here this time of night?” Colt pressed.

“Yeah. Some bimbo ran me off the road. I suspect she was drunk, and I came looking for her.”

Elise frantically shook her head, but if Colt realized what she was doing, he gave no indication of it.

“You know this woman you claim ran you off the road?” Colt asked.

“Never saw her before in my life. I was just out here in Sweetwater Springs looking for an old army buddy. Got lost. Then, when I tried to get across the bridge not far from here, she smacked right into me with her car.” He tipped his head to the front of his truck. “I want to find her because I’ll need to make an insurance claim.”

The man made it sound so innocent. As if it was all her fault. And it wasn’t.

“You ran me off the road,” Elise shouted out to him. Colt glanced back at her, scowled, but that didn’t deter her. “You acted like you were trying to kill me.”

The man took his time answering, and if he had any outward reaction to her accusation, he sure didn’t show it. “Well, little lady, it seems we have a difference in opinion as to what happened.”

His condescending nickname irritated her almost as much as his smug attitude.

“Just give me your name, and I’ll be on my way,” the man added. “I’ll let the insurance company sort it all out.”

“You already know my name,” she snapped. “Because you were watching me at the grocery store earlier today. It’s Elise Nichols.”

Again, he didn’t jump to respond. “Seems you’re mistaken about that, too. It’s my first night in town. Never been here before in my life. Maybe you’re not thinking straight after the little wreck you caused.”

Again, he was cocky. And that tone chilled her even more than the night air. It must have done the same to Colt, because he stepped in front of her.

“Let’s drive back to the sheriff’s office on Main Street,” Colt ordered. And there was no mistaking the fact that it was an order given by a man with a badge. “I’ll follow you. I can get your statement and call for a medic to come and check out Elise.”

The moments crawled by, and Elise figured the guy would flat-out refuse. But he didn’t. Gambil finally nodded, then shrugged and, as if he didn’t have a care in the world, he strolled back to his truck.

“Just follow the signs to town,” Colt instructed Gambil. “It’ll take you straight to Main Street.”

Colt got her moving again, staying just slightly ahead of her so that he was between her and Gambil. Once the man was inside his truck, Colt practically stuffed her inside his and hit the master switch to lock her door.

“Any chance what he’s claiming is true?” Colt asked, taking out his phone. He didn’t reholster his gun, and he didn’t take his eyes off the other vehicle that was parked just a few yards ahead of them.

“No chance whatsoever,” Elise insisted. “He ran into me, and when he got out, he was coming right at me with a gun.”

“But he didn’t shoot? And he didn’t say anything to you?”

“No.”

That’s where her explanation ground to a sudden halt. Because he’d certainly had time to shoot her. Or at least verbally threaten her. She’d had to get out from beneath the air bag, exit on the passenger’s side and then start running.

He could have put a bullet in her at any time.

So maybe this had all just been an accident. Except it hadn’t felt like one.

And still didn’t.

Colt started the engine and turned on the heater full blast. Until the warm air started to spill over her, Elise hadn’t realized she was shivering. He also punched a button on his phone.

“Reed,” he said a moment later. Reed as in Deputy Reed Caldwell from the Sweetwater Springs Sheriff’s Office. “I need you to run a license plate.” And Colt rattled off the number of Gambil’s truck. Waited.

Looked at her.

Of course, no look from Colt was ever just a mere look.

They shared too much history for that, and those bedroom blue-gray eyes always had a way of cutting right through her. Elise tried not to let that happen now. In fact, she tried not to think of anything from their past—including the sizzling-hot attraction that’d once been between them.

No.

Best not to think of that.

Even though her body always reminded her of it whenever she was within breathing distance of him. Thankfully, over the past decade or so there had been plenty of distance between them, but she couldn’t rely on that any longer. Not with them both in the same small town.

“Toby Gambil,” Colt repeated. “Yeah, that’s right. Anything suspicious on him, like maybe an arrest warrant?”

She couldn’t hear what Reed said, but judging from the way Colt’s mouth relaxed, the answer was no. Nothing suspicious. Well, nothing except for his behavior after he’d crashed into her with his truck.

“I’m on Ezell Road right now. I’ll be bringing both Gambil and Elise Nichols in to take their statements about a car accident,” Colt said to Reed. “Run a quick check on Gambil for me. And have a medic come to the station.” He paused. “No, but Elise might need a few stitches.”

She certainly hadn’t forgotten about the cut on her head. It was still throbbing. But a few stitches were the least of her concerns.

Colt ended the call, put his truck into gear and flashed his headlights to let Gambil know they were about to leave. Elise held her breath, to see what the man would do, but Gambil eased out onto the road, and Colt followed right behind him.

It seemed, well, normal.

“You think I’m crazy,” she mumbled. Heck, she was beginning to think that, too.

But the words had barely had time to leave her mouth when she heard the sound that she didn’t want to hear. Tires screeching on the asphalt.

Ahead of them, Gambil’s truck sped away.

“Hell.” Colt tossed his phone into her lap and slammed on the accelerator, too. “Call Reed. Tell him we might have a problem.”

Elise didn’t have time to feel even an ounce of justification that she’d been right about this situation. Ahead of them, Gambil fishtailed, his back tires skirting across the wintery road, but he quickly corrected the truck and went even faster.

Colt was right behind him.

“Let Reed know that I’m in pursuit of Gambil’s vehicle,” Colt said, his attention nailed to the road and the truck.

Even though her hands were shaking, Elise managed to pick through the numbers and find Reed’s. The deputy answered on the first ring, and she began to relay Colt’s message.

“Tell Colt to back off,” Reed said before she’d even finished talking. “I believe Toby Gambil is an alias. I don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

Elise knew. They were dealing with a man who’d tried to kill her. A man who was now trying to flee the scene. A man who’d likely given a fake name to a deputy sheriff who was questioning him.

There weren’t many good reasons for a person to do that. She relayed what Reed had said to Colt.

“He could be dangerous,” Reed added. “I’m on my way out there now, and I’ll see about setting up a roadblock.”

The moment Elise pressed the end call button, Gambil slammed on his brakes. Colt cursed again, hit his brakes, too, but had to swerve into the oncoming lane to stop himself from plowing right into the back of Gambil’s truck.

“Don’t you dare say I told you so,” Colt grumbled.

The thought hadn’t crossed her mind. Right now, she was only worried about what Gambil might do next. After all, the man was armed, and Colt’s and his trucks were now practically dead level with each other. Gambil could fire right into the cab and kill them both.

That’s probably why Colt threw his truck into Reverse to drop back behind Gambil. But they didn’t hold that position for long. Gambil hit the accelerator again, shooting forward like a bullet.

“Go after him,” Elise insisted.

Yes, she was scared. Terrified, actually. But if he got away, they might never know who he really was and why he’d come after her like that.

Colt seemed to have a split-second debate with himself about what to do, but she must have convinced him, because he took off after Gambil.

“Watch for Reed,” he told her.

She would. And she’d also try to watch for other cars. Elise prayed that everyone in Sweetwater Springs had stayed in tonight because with the way Gambil was driving, he could run into someone who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

There was a flash of red ahead of them. Gambil’s brake lights. And he turned onto another road. But not just any road. The one that led to Miller’s Creek Bridge where he’d first rammed into her.

“Why’s he doing this?” she mumbled. “Why would he go back there?”

Colt only shook his head and kept following the man. However, they had only gone about a quarter of a mile when she heard the sound. As if the truck had backfired.

Almost immediately, Gambil started to swerve. And it got worse. His truck pitched to the right, heading straight for the ditch.

“Hold on,” Colt said just as he put on his brakes. He had to careen around Gambil, but he somehow managed to avoid another collision.

Gambil wasn’t so lucky.

His truck left the road, going airborne when it vaulted over the raised shoulder, and the front end slammed into a cluster of small trees.

Elise had braced herself for something bad to happen, but she certainly hadn’t expected that.

Colt and she sat there. Breaths sawing. Her heartbeat going like crazy. But Gambil didn’t get out of the truck.

“Call Reed again,” Colt told her. “Let him know where we are.” And with that, he shifted his gun and opened his door.

“You’re not going out there.” However, she was talking to the wind because Colt was indeed going out there.

“If you move, I’ll arrest you,” Colt growled at her. He also shot her a warning scowl to go along with that and started toward Gambil.

Only then did Elise remember that Colt still had her gun, and she didn’t like the idea of him not having some kind of backup.

Not that she would be of much help.

At best she was a lousy shot, a disgrace for someone raised on a Texas ranch, but if Gambil came out with guns blazing, she might have been able to scare him by firing over his head or something.

Now, she didn’t even have that option.

With her stomach churning and her heart in her throat, she watched as Colt approached the truck. He took slow, cautious steps, his attention pinned to the driver’s side.

His gun, too.

He had it pointed right at Gambil.

Gambil’s headlights were still on, cutting through the silvery fog that was drifting from the nearby creek. That, along with the moon, gave her plenty of light to see Colt’s expression when he threw open Gambil’s door. He froze for a moment when he looked inside.