“You don’t listen, do you?”

Cutter was speaking in that authoritative, rankling military tone again. She wasn’t under his command. “I listen just fine.” She started to march away.

Cutter grabbed her arms and tugged her around to face him. “You’re a kindergarten teacher. You know kids better than I do. Secret surveillance and invasion without detection are my areas of expertise. I’m not risking either of us getting arrested – or killed – because you’re too stubborn to listen to reason.”

“ So it’s your way or not at all?”

“In this case.”

He wasn’t going to budge. His attitude was arrogant, determined. And unequivocally protective. She wanted to lash out at him, but the truth was she’d never felt more safe and turned on in her life.

Available in August 2010 from Mills & Boon® Intrigue

Secrets in Four Corners

by Debra Webb

&

Profile Durango

by Carla Cassidy

Mountain Investigation

by Jessica Andersen

&

Priceless Newborn Prince

by Ann Voss Peterson

Set Up with the Agent

by Lori L Harris

&

Terms of Attraction

by Kylie Brant

Cowboy Commando

by Joanna Wayne

Cowboy Commando

By

Joanna Wayne

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JOANNA WAYNE was born and raised in Shreveport, Louisiana, and received her undergraduate and graduate degrees from LSU-Shreveport. She moved to New Orleans in 1984 and it was there that she attended her first writing class and joined her first professional writing organisation. Her first novel, Deep in the Bayou, was published in 1994.

Now, dozens of published books later, Joanna has made a name for herself as being on the cutting edge of romantic suspense in both series and single-title novels. She has been on the Waldenbooks bestselling list for romance and has won many industry awards. She is a popular speaker at writing organisations and local community functions and has taught creative writing at the University of New Orleans Metropolitan College.

She currently resides in a small community forty miles north of Houston, Texas, with her husband. Though she still has many family and emotional ties to Louisiana, she loves living in the Lone Star state. You may write to Joanna at PO Box 265, Montgomery, Texas 77356, USA.

I’d like to offer my gratitude to the brave military men and women who sacrifice so much to protect our freedom. And a hug and heartfelt thanks to the people who love them.

Chapter One

“Welcome home, cowboy!”

Cutter Martin stopped just inside the door and waited for his pupils to adjust from the bright sunshine to the dim lighting of the bar and grill. Even after they had, it took a few minutes for him to spot the lean male frame propped on the barstool a few yards away.

Tom Porter. He hadn’t seen the guy in years. Would have been fine with Cutter if he’d gone a few more. The mood he was in right now was not suitable for company, especially not Tom’s. He waved anyway and made his way to the nearly empty bar.

“Not quite home,” Cutter said, sliding onto the barstool next to Tom, “but close.”

“Houston’s a hell of a lot nearer to Dobbin than Afghanistan was.”

“When you put it that way.” Odd thing was Dobbin, Texas didn’t seem like home anymore, either. There had been nights of sleeping on the hard ground in insect-infested forests that made the Double M Ranch loom like heaven in the back of his mind.

Now he was back in the States and the ranch was just wide open spaces. He figured he’d gone too deep into enemy territory and the military lifestyle to go back to his ranching roots. Not that he’d ever been much of a rancher. It was bronc riding on the rodeo circuit that had driven him in his younger days.

The bartender wiped a spot of moisture from the counter in front of Cutter and slapped down a paper napkin. “What can I get you?”

“Scotch on the rocks. Make it a double.”

“I saw your picture in the Houston Chronicle last month,” Tom said. “I been meaning to look you up ever since then. That was quite a hero’s welcome you got.”

“Yeah.” Cutter nodded and looked away, hoping that would end the hero talk. He hadn’t been any more a hero than every other frogman he’d served with.

Unfortunately, the bartender must have overheard Tom’s remark. He paused as he served Cutter’s drink. “Say, you’re that Navy SEAL fellow, aren’t you? The one who personally killed twelve of the enemy after you and your buddies were ambushed.”

“So they told me. I wasn’t counting at the time.”

“Cool, man. I thought about becoming a Navy SEAL. My girlfriend didn’t like the idea of my getting shot at, though.”

Cutter studied the guy. Early twenties, hair a little too long, tattoos all over his arms like blotchy skin. Big enough, but no muscular definition. Cutter wondered if he’d last a day in BUD/S. Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training was twenty-six weeks of grueling preparation for what lay ahead for the few who saw it through.

“You must be glad to be home,” the bartender continued. “Bet it was even worth getting shot in the leg to get out of the war zone.”

As if on cue, Cutter’s left thigh started to throb and his irritation level climbed. The bartender wasn’t the first to assume he must have hated his time in the service. They were dead wrong. It was trying to adjust to life without the rugged edges that was taking the fight out of him. He didn’t seem to fit in civilian life half as well as he’d fit in with his SEAL team.

He picked up his drink and downed half of it before setting the glass back on the table. Fortunately, by that time another customer had snagged the bartender’s attention. Now he only had Tom to contend with.

Tom grabbed a handful of peanuts from the bowl near him, spilling a few down the front of his plaid cotton sport shirt as he dropped them into his mouth. “Are you planning to get the ranch up and running again now that you’re back? I hear your aunt sold most of the stock.”

Actually, she’d sold everything except her favorite horses. That was part of his adjustment problem—not that it had come as a surprise. It just hadn’t quite hit home until he saw the empty pastures.

She’d asked Cutter before she’d auctioned off the herd. He’d told her to go ahead. At the time he hadn’t been planning to leave the SEALs for years. The land was still there. Livestock could be added at any time.

Merlee loved her newfound freedom. At seventy-five, she was ready to travel and do some of the things his uncle Hank had never been interested in.

“They say you can’t go home again,” Cutter said, when he realized that Tom was still staring at him, waiting for an answer.

Tom nodded. “I know what you mean. Too quiet out in Dobbin for me. No action and nowhere to find any. I’m in waste management now, right here in Houston.”

“Sounds like a winner.” Cutter finished his drink. “Good to see you. I’ve got to run, though.”

“Too bad. I was thinking if you didn’t have plans, we might grab a bite to eat together. Catch up on old times.”

“Maybe another day.”

“Yeah, right. I’ll give you a call. You in the book?” Tom asked.

“Yeah, in the book. Look me up.”

Cutter pulled some bills from his pocket and left them on the bar, more than enough to cover the price of the drink and a tip. He didn’t look back as he pushed through the door and back into the humidity of a hot June afternoon.

He had another interview scheduled, this one at a new car dealership out on I-45. He made a quick decision to blow it off. Selling cars just wasn’t going to cut it. Not that he had a clue what would.

He missed the danger, missed knowing that every decision was crucial, missed feeling the heat of the enemy breathing down his neck even when he couldn’t see them. Most of all, he’d lost the feeling that what he was doing made a real difference.

Houston wasn’t a walking town, but Cutter couldn’t bring himself to crawl back into the new black Chevy pickup truck he’d left parked in the lot. He stopped by it just long enough to shed his tie and sports jacket and toss them into the backseat of the double-cab. Then, rolling up his sleeves, he headed down Montrose Boulevard.

Breaking a sweat felt good. He covered the blocks fast in spite of his slight limp, turning onto Westheimer and then onto a dozen more streets he never bothered to check the names of. Cars whizzed by him. A black man on a bicycle almost ran him over. A guy walking a pair of poodles walked by Cutter without glancing his way.

A young woman in a thin summer dress that hugged her perky breasts and swung from her narrow hips walked out of a coffee shop on his right. She caught his eye and smiled at him invitingly. He considered stopping to see how far her invitation went, but decided against it. She was about ten years too young for him and likely a lifetime too innocent.

He kept walking, past cafés that were no more than holes in the wall emitting odors of peppers and chilies and frying tortillas. Past upscale dining spots with white-shirted valets parking Mercedes and BMWs.

He was in an eclectic area of shops, restaurants, and aging houses infiltrated by sleek new townhomes, all practically within the shadows of the downtown skyscrapers.

It was dark when he ended up back at the bar, and the parking lot was full. He started to go in for another drink but decided to head back to the tiny claustrophobic condo where he was staying. Two rooms, unless you counted the closet-size bath. A living/kitchen area and a bedroom. Fortunately, there were lots of windows.

Merlee had bought the property a few years back when Hank had first been diagnosed with cancer and was under-going chemo. It was near the hospital and had eliminated the long commute during that already stressful time.

She’d decided to keep it after he died and now she and her friend Josie used it when they wanted a few days of city living. Culture, she called it, though the theater and symphony attendance was rivaled by shopping and baseball. Merlee was a rabid Astros fan.

She’d given Cutter the key to the condo when he’d started searching for employment. He’d have to take the job hunt more seriously tomorrow. Deal with more applications.

Skills: Hand-to-hand combat. Smelling out the enemy. Putting his life on the line.

None of them looked particularly good on a résumé.

There was a light on in the condo when he pulled in to his parking spot. He didn’t remember leaving it on, and it couldn’t be Merlee or Josie. They were off on an Alaskan cruise. He’d driven them to the airport himself.

His instincts for trouble checked in. He hesitated at the door. Interesting odors wafted out. Garlic. Onions.

The voices coming from inside were even more interesting. The male was undoubtedly George Strait singing “All My Exes Live in Texas.” The female singing along with a definite lack of enthusiasm and totally off-key was anybody’s guess. Except…

No. He was imagining things.

Cutter opened the door, unlocked now, though he was sure he’d left it locked this morning. He stepped inside. There was definitely a woman in his kitchen and singing along with his CD. He headed that way.

“Honey, I’m home.”

“Cutter.”

No mistaking the voice when it called his name. His body tightened. His stomach flipped. A second later Linney Gayle Ringle stood in the doorway. Her red hair was caught up in a knot at the nape of her neck, but more than a few tangled curls fell over her cheeks and danced about her forehead.

He gave in to the initial spicy thrill of her, letting his gaze scan her shapely body before reining in his natural instincts and reminding himself of the misery that had stemmed from their last encounter. Not to mention the fact that she was now a married woman.

She looked up at him from beneath her thick lashes, her emerald-green eyes as bewitching as ever, though the sparkle he remembered was shadowed.

“God, you look good, Cutter, much better than that newspaper photo.”

To say she looked good would be the understatement of the year. She was dynamite. Too hot too handle. Nothing new there.

“Nice to see you, too, Linney. Now, care to tell me why you broke into my condo?”

“I didn’t. Merlee gave me a key.”

“That explains it.” He let his gaze scan her body again, then wished he hadn’t. Her breasts were perky little mounds that pushed against the thin cotton T-shirt that scooped just low enough to show a hint of cleavage. The white shorts hit midthigh, showing off the perfectly tanned legs. Legs that had once wrapped around him while—

He fought the stirrings back into submission before he reached really dangerous territory. “So why are you here, or do you chase after every guy who gets his picture in the paper?”

“Just the cute ones.”

She walked over, rose to her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek. “We’re friends, Cutter. I wanted to welcome you home.”

There was a tenseness about her that made him sure that wasn’t the whole story—not by a long shot. “You can do better than that, Linney.”

“Not in present company.” Linney put her hand out and Cutter spotted the little girl who’d just stuck her head around the counter that separated the living area from the kitchen. The preschool-age child walked over and scrunched behind Linney’s shapely hip before stealing a sheepish glance at Cutter.

So Alfred and Linney had a daughter. Might even have a house full of kids. “Where’s big Al,” he asked, “or is he going to jump out next?”

“You heard about the marriage?”

“Word gets around.”

“All the way to the Middle East?”

“Just the big stuff.”

“Alfred and I are divorced.”

That he hadn’t heard. “Is this where I’m supposed to say I’m sorry?”

“Are you?”

No and yes. It was easier to resent the both of them if they were living their idyllic life in the world of the rich and modestly famous. “Divorce is tough on kids,” he said, knowing it was the most honest statement he could offer.

“Alfred and I didn’t have children.”

So there was a new man in her life. And still Linney was here, in his condo, the spitting image of the woman who’d starred in thousands of his unsolicited erotic fantasies over the last six years. But only after he was sound asleep and too out of it to remember that she’d walked out on him without so much as an adios.

“Look, Cutter, I know it’s in bad taste to just let myself in, but I wasn’t sure when you’d be home and I didn’t want to keep Julie out in the hot sun.”

“How did you know I was staying here?”

“Your aunt Merlee called last week and told me. She thought I should give you a call and welcome you to Houston.”

“I didn’t know you and Aunt Merlee were such good friends.”

“We talk at the symphony during intermission, mostly about you. Our seats are only two rows apart.”

“Nor did I know you were a fan of the symphony.”

“There are lots of things you don’t know about me.”

“Apparently. Is this story going somewhere, Linney? Because I’ve had a really long day, and I’m not up for entertaining.”

“You don’t have to get in a huff, Cutter. Just tell me where you keep your extra sheets and blankets and I’ll make Julie a bed on the sofa.”

“Whoa! This is not a hotel.”

“I know, but I need a favor. One night.” She managed a strained smile. “And I cooked dinner. There’s pasta with red sauce. No meat. You didn’t have any—or much of anything else except beer and moldy cheese.”

“I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Just for one night, Cutter. I promise. We won’t put you out.”

“I only have one bed.”

“Julie can sleep on the sofa.”

Which would leave the one bed for him and Linney. It was hard enough controlling his libido standing in the same room with her. Fat chance he’d be able to do it with her stretched out next to him between the same pair of sheets.

“You can’t stay here.” His command came out a lot harsher than he’d intended. Julie started to cry.

“Now see what you’ve done.” Exasperation and a tinge of desperation tugged at her voice and expression.

Linney dropped to the sofa, took the small child in her arms and started rocking her back and forth. “Cutter didn’t mean to frighten you, sweetheart. He’s glad you’re here. He loves little girls. Tell her, Cutter.”

“I adore them. Linney, we have to talk.”

“Right, as soon as Julie’s asleep, but that will take a little longer now that you’ve upset her.”

Cutter still had no clue what was going on, but the chances that he was going to sleep alone in this apartment tonight were growing slimmer by the second. If the vibes of anxiety Linney was emitting weren’t at frightening levels, he’d insist she go to a hotel.

But there was more going on than Linney had admitted in front of the child, and there was no way he could just toss her out if she were in some kind of real trouble. His gut instinct was that she just might be.

“Put Julie in my bed,” Cutter said. “The sheets are fresh. The cleaning woman was here today. You can sleep with her and I’ll take the couch.”

“Thanks, Cutter. I knew I could count on you.”

Their gazes met and he had that same crazy sensation he used to get when he was parachuting into a hostile environment with no clear means of escape.

“Just for tonight, Linney. Don’t even think of unpacking a suitcase or finding a spot for your toothbrush.”

“No luggage,” she admitted. “No toothbrush, either. I was kind of hoping you’d have an extra for your sleepover guests.”

“I don’t have sleepover guests.” At least he hadn’t until now.

Cutter watched Linney walk toward the bedroom with the young child clutching her hand. He followed the pungent odors to the range and lifted the lid. A deep red sauce was simmering in the pot.

He dipped a spoon into it, blew on the hot liquid, then hesitantly sampled the sauce. Not half-bad. It surprised him that the wife of a man as wealthy as Al Kingston actually cooked.

And she’d become a mom. In none of his fantasies on the cold, hard, mountain earth had he ever pictured her standing over a kitchen range or tucking a golden-haired little girl into bed. Now here she was in the flesh and the surprises just kept on coming.

He was setting the table when Linney rejoined him. She went to the refrigerator, opened the door and took out a couple of beers. “Can I offer you a drink?” she asked.

“Only if it comes with an explanation as to why you’re entertaining me in my own kitchen. And don’t revert back to the friendship scenario. That won’t cut it.”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“I figure that’s a given.” He opened the beers and pushed hers across the table to where she’d dropped into one of the padded wrought iron-and-wood dining chairs.

She toyed with her beer, finally taking a tiny sip. “You’re the only one I have to turn to.”

“What about Julie’s father?”

She shook her head.

“I don’t want to be pulled into something between you and your husband.”

“There’s no husband, Cutter. There’s just me and Julie. That’s why I need your help.”

“Why me?”

“Everyone in Dobbin has been talking about you. You’ve won medals for your bravery. You’re used to danger and not afraid of anything.”

Except spending the night in this house with Linney. “Cut to the chase. What have you got yourself and your daughter into?”

“Well, you see, that’s just the thing, Cutter. Julie’s not my daughter. I’ve kind of…Well, it’s just that…” She threw up her hands in a display of frantic frustration. “I sort of kidnapped her.”

Chapter Two

“You sort of kidnapped her? What is that supposed to mean?”

Linney tried to stay calm. “I didn’t set out to do it. The woman at the day-care center called and said Julie was crying hysterically. I went to check on her.”

“Why did the center call you instead of her parents?”

“They tried to reach her father. He didn’t answer his cell phone. Amy—her mother—had put my name on the emergency caller list so the woman who manages the center called me.”

“If you’re on the list, then how is this kidnapping?”

“I said ‘sort of’ kidnapping. You have to pay attention, Cutter.”

“It would be easier if you didn’t talk in riddles. The father must have called you by now to see where his daughter is and when you plan to bring her home.”

“He hasn’t.”

“Then this is simple. Just take Julie home.”

“It’s not quite that simple.”

His eyebrows arched again. “Because…”

“Keep your voice down. You’ll wake Julie.”

“She’s already asleep? What did you do, drug her?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s exhausted and she’s been through a terrible ordeal over the last few days.”

“A sort-of kidnapping will surely help that.”

“Sarcasm under fire is not the mark of a hero, Cutter Martin.”

“I never claimed to be a hero and we’re not under fire. Not yet, anyway.”

Linney flashed what she hoped was a persuasive look. “Would you just sit down and let me explain?”

“I like standing, and I don’t see how anything you will say can justify a kidnapping—or even a sort-of one.”

Linney studied Cutter. He looked different than he had the last time she’d seen him. Older, harder and, if possible, even more ruggedly handsome. Then, desire had fired in his dark eyes. Tonight his gaze seared into hers accusingly.

His five o’clock shadow was pronounced, his face a mix of taut planes and angles, his muscles strained and pushing against the white cotton dress shirt. The white dress shirt didn’t fit the image she’d carried of him for the last six years, not even with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows.

The rest of him fit the image perfectly. The lean, hard body. The tanned skin. The thick locks of dark hair falling across his forehead giving him a devil-may-care look and a sexiness that wouldn’t quit.

Linney took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, then pushed her back against the slats of the chair. “Julie’s mother drowned last Friday. Amy Colley. You may have read about it in the newspaper. It happened in Green’s Harbor. That’s a small town on the bay about twenty miles south of Houston.”

“Yeah, I know where Green’s Harbor is. And I read about the accident. Her husband came home from work and found her floating in their backyard swimming pool.”

“That’s what he said. It’s not what happened.”

Cutter’s eyebrows arched. “Oh?”

“He killed her.”

“By he, I assume you are talking about the husband?”

“Yes, Dane Colley. Amy’s husband.”

“And also Julie’s father?”

She nodded.

“I suppose you have proof of your accusation.”

“I don’t have hard evidence, if that’s what you mean. But I know he did it.”

“So now you’re psychic?”

“This isn’t a joke, Cutter.”

“I’m not laughing.” His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. “Didn’t I read that Dane Colley is a homicide detective?”

“Yes, and that’s the worst part of all this. He knows how to play the system and he’s got friends in all the right places. They’ll take him at his word and there won’t be a real investigation into the murder. He’ll just kill my friend Amy and get away with it—unless someone stops him.”

“Did you talk to the Green’s Harbor Police Department about your suspicions?”

“I tried. I gave the clerk a statement and he said I’d hear from one of the detectives. That was two days ago. I’ve called several times since then as well. No one’s called me back. I also called the news department of several of the local TV channels. They told me they’d need more than groundless suspicions to run a story.”

Cutter walked to the refrigerator and retrieved a couple more beers. He opened them both and set one in front of Linney. “Only two left,” he said. “I’m not sure that will get us through this explanation.”

“You asked for the facts.”

“I’m still waiting for the main one. Why is the daughter of the recently deceased mother and the homicide-detective father sleeping in my bedroom?”

Linney pushed back from the table. “Don’t you get it? I can’t get through to the police via normal channels, but if they suspect I’ve kidnapped Julie, they’ll have to contact me. And if the media gets involved, all the better.”

Cutter took a huge gulp of the cold beer before finally straddling one of the kitchen chairs. He stretched his left leg in front of him and massaged the thigh.

She knew from what Merlee had told her that he’d taken two bullets in that leg. She wondered if the stress she was causing him was making the wounds ache. She hoped not, but it couldn’t be helped.

“You’re not making a lot of sense, Linney. If there’s a beginning to this story, I suggest you start there.”

The beginning? Linney had no clue how far back the roots of the murder actually extended, but her first suspicion about Dane Colley went back to the day she’d met Amy. It had been the faculty’s first day of school last September. The fading bruise on Amy’s right cheek had caught Linney’s attention during the principal’s introduction of new staff members.

It had brought back bitter memories of the one and only time Alfred had slugged her. She’d packed her bags that night, left his overpriced, gaudily grandiose mansion in River Oaks and never returned.

The punch had done what years of unhappiness and feeling like the pseudo-princess of a bogus furniture kingdom couldn’t. It had knocked some sense into her and freed her to file for divorce.

Linney hadn’t asked Amy about her bruise that day, but she had asked her about several subsequent ones over the next few months as she and Amy developed a friendship. Amy had always made flimsy excuses—until last week.

“Are you going to talk or not?”

The impatience in Cutter’s voice pushed Linney to find a place to begin. “Amy and I both work at the Green’s Harbor Kindergarten and Early Learning Center,” she said, deciding basic background was all he really needed to know. “I’m a teacher. Amy’s a paraprofessional.”

“When did you start teaching?”

“Two years ago, right after I left Al. This was Amy’s first year and she’s come to work with bruises on her face and arms too many times to count.”

“Did she say her husband had caused them?”

“No. I think she was too embarrassed to admit it. She always came up with some ridiculous story about falling over a rake in the garden or walking into an open door.”

“Yet you seem sure he’s to blame?”

All too sure. Linney took a sip of the beer. “Amy called me last Thursday and asked me to meet her at the café on Bay Drive for coffee. It was the first time I’d heard from her since school had let out three weeks earlier for summer vacation and I was really looking forward to seeing her.”

“What happened?”

“When I arrived, she was already sitting at one of the outside tables near the water. The first thing I saw when she looked up was a violently purple bruise and a ball of swollen flesh beneath her right eye. That time when I asked her about it, she admitted that Dane had punched her.”

“Did she say why?”

“Does it matter why?”

“Call me curious.”

“He’d tried to reach her on her cell phone and couldn’t.”

“Sounds brutal.”

“It sounds criminal,” Linney said, “because it is. Amy told me she was afraid of him. She’d made up her mind to leave him, even though he’d threatened to kill her if she ever tried it.”

If Linney had suspected for a second what was going to follow, she’d have begged Amy to run away that very day. But who could foresee murder?

“And this was last Thursday before Amy Colley drowned on Friday?”

“Right. Dane must have found out she was leaving and made good on his threat.”

“That’s a big assumption, Linney.”

“Men kill their wives. I hear about cases like that all the time on those TV crime documentaries. And those are just the ones who get caught.”

“Maybe so, but thousands of women leave abusive husbands every year. Very few of those husbands resort to murder.”

“Then I guess Dane’s the exception.”

“Have you seen him since Amy’s death?”

“I saw him at Amy’s funeral, but didn’t get a chance to speak to him.”

“When was that?”

“Two days ago, on Monday afternoon.”

“The same day you went to the police.”

“Right. I attended the funeral with several of the other teachers from the school and more than one commented that Dane didn’t look like a man bereft because he’d just lost his wife. He didn’t shed a single tear. That added a lot of fuel to my suspicions.”

“You can’t accuse a man of murder based on the flow of his tears, or the lack thereof.”

“I’m not basing my accusation on any one thing. But when you put it all together, it’s obvious that the drowning was no accident.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, but I’d agree that the drowning raises a few questions. What I don’t see is how you think being arrested for kidnapping is going to improve the situation.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Almost anything is better than that, unless you’re ready to go to jail to prove your point.”

“Dane killed Amy,” Linney said. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure he doesn’t get away with it. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

“All I understand is that you are in big trouble, Linney. How long have you had Julie?”

“Since four-thirty.”

Dane checked his watch. “It’s after eight now. I can’t believe Dane hasn’t tried to get in touch with you.”

“He doesn’t have my cell-phone number, and I haven’t been back to my house.”

“He’s a cop. He could get your number.”

“Then I don’t know why he hasn’t called. Maybe he’s just glad not to have his daughter around.”

“More likely, every cop in this part of Texas is out looking for you.”

Cutter reached over and laid his hands on top of hers. The touch was casual, almost incidental, yet it affected her in a way she hadn’t expected. It was as if his strength and support made her feel more vulnerable.

She was swimming in dangerous waters, not only in the situation with Julie but in her own conflicted emotions regarding Cutter. She wasn’t the naive, gullible, nineteen-year-old coed she’d been six years ago. She didn’t need another relationship on a fast track to nowhere—no matter how hot and thrilling their brief fling had been.

“I can see where you’re coming from, Linney, but kidnapping a detective’s kid is over-the-top. Even if some high-priced lawyer keeps you from going to prison, no school board is going to hire a teacher who’s been accused of kidnapping.”

She hadn’t considered that, and she loved teaching.

Cutter stood and walked back to the counter, leaning his backside against it and staring at her as if she were some disobedient private he was about to dress down.

“I have a friend in the Houston Police Department, Linney. Goose Millburn and I were on the same SEAL team for my first two years in the service. I’d trust him with my life. In fact, I have on several occasions. I’d like to run the situation by him and get his take on this.”

“His take will be that I return Julie and we’ll be right back where we started—with Dane getting away with murder.”

Cutter pulled his cell phone from his pocket and started punching in numbers.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

“Calling Goose.”

Linney’s temper flared. “I didn’t agree to that.”

He turned away, but kept punching in numbers. Linney jumped on his back and tried to wrestle the phone from his hand. Her right foot hit the table and the two empty plates went crashing to the floor. Her fingers stayed wound around the phone.

A whimper came from the doorway. When Linney looked up, Julie was standing just inside the kitchen, clutching in her tiny hands the teddy bear she never slept without. Her eyes were wide with fear. Linney let go of the phone and slid from Cutter’s back.

“We’re not fighting, sweetheart. We’re just playing around, aren’t we, Cutter?” She kissed him on the cheek to prove her point to the bewildered and frightened tot.

Cutter’s arm closed around her and his hand splayed around her shoulder. He was merely playing along with her attempt to reassure Julie, but something warm and unexpected zinged along Linney’s nerve endings.

She jerked away. She’d had six years to get over her meaningless sexual marathon with Cutter. Whatever she felt now was just some kind of poorly timed reflex brought on by her own desperation.

Julie crept closer, her stuffed toy held tight against her chest and her gaze cast toward the floor.

“I guess we don’t have to make the call this instant,” Cutter said. “Get Julie settled again, and then we’ll eat. No use letting good pasta go to waste.”

“Thanks.” It was merely a reprieve, but that was better than a phone call to the cops. It would give her time to think and decide what she wanted to do. She figured she had about half an hour before she had to make her next move.

She didn’t have a clue what that would be.

THEY BARELY SPOKE through dinner. What else was there to say? Cutter had given his ultimatum. Call Goose or take Julie home. Arguing with him would be a waste of time, and Linney wasn’t about to beg.

She tried to force down a few bites of the food, but it stuck in her dry throat. Cutter, on the other hand, went back for seconds. Apparently, his impatience and irritation with her had little effect on his appetite.

She glanced at her watch, the extravagant diamond-studded Rolex Al had given her for their second wedding anniversary. She’d never liked it. “It’s almost time for the nine o’clock news. I’d like to see if they mention a kidnapping.”

“You finish eating. I’ll turn on the TV.” Cutter took his plate to the kitchen, rinsed it beneath the spray of the faucet and left it in the sink before flicking on the set.

Linney tensed, as the blond female anchor looked grimly into the camera to deliver the night’s teaser.

“A double homicide in Green’s Harbor has left three children orphans and set off a massive manhunt for two unidentified suspects who held a family hostage for nearly two hours this afternoon.”

No mention of a kidnapping or an Amber Alert. So Dane hadn’t reported his daughter missing. And he hadn’t tried to call her. It didn’t add up.

“And this just in…”

Linney’s attention spiked again.

“Income tax fraud charges are expected to be filed tomorrow against furniture magnate Al Kingston. Stay tuned for these and other important happenings from the Houston area.”

Linney had just stood to carry her own plate to the sink. The fork she’d balanced on the edge clattered and fell to the tiled kitchen floor, spraying her blouse with red sauce on the way down. She grabbed a paper towel and dabbed, spreading the stain.

Cutter rushed to the sink, wet a clean dish towel and came to her rescue. He pressed the cloth to the stain, a spot right over her right breast. The water seeped into the fabric outlining the nipple and revealing its puckered tip.

The air turned steamy. “Just leave it,” she murmured, backing away.

Her cell phone rang, startling her and making her jump so that she tripped over the leg of her chair. Cutter caught her and steadied her. “Are you all right?”

Not even close, but she nodded. The phone kept ringing.

“Don’t you think you should get that?”

“It’s probably someone calling about Al. I don’t want to deal with that.”

“It could be Dane.”

She went to the living area and grabbed the purse from her handbag, checking the caller ID. “Margie Clemens. She’s a teacher at the kindergarten. She probably just caught the news about Al.”

Linney sank to the sofa to catch the rest of the news. Cutter propped himself up on the arm of the overstuffed occasional chair near the window. There was no mention of the kidnapping.

“Check your cell phone,” Cutter suggested at the next commercial break. “See if you have a message from Dane that you missed earlier.”

She checked. There was none.

“This smells rotten,” Cutter said. “Surely Dane’s gone to pick up his daughter by now and heard that she left with you. Or is the day-care center open all night?”

“No, the last pickup is seven o’clock sharp. Not complying can get you replaced with another child from their waiting list. I’ve had to pick up Julie before when Amy was tied up and Dane was working. That’s why I’m on the emergency contact list.”

“Being on the list doesn’t mean Dane doesn’t have an APB out on you by now. I’ll call Goose. He’ll know where to go from here. By the way, did you have any idea your ex was involved in tax fraud?”

“Not a clue, but I’m not surprised. Al’s whole life was about acquiring and spending money. The pending charges may explain why we still don’t have a property settlement, though. He may think he’s going to need his ready assets for attorney fees.”

“You’ve been divorced two years and you still don’t have a property settlement?”

“We’ve been separated two years, divorced one. My attorney says we’re close to a property settlement, or at least we were before this came up.”

“Okay. Forget Al for now. I’ll call Goose. Stay calm this time. You know it’s the only sensible thing to do.”

And just like that, Cutter was taking over, calling the shots and ignoring the fact that he was helping a man get away with murder. And it wasn’t as if she were putting Julie in danger.

A plan started taking shape in Linney’s mind. Not perfect, but better than seeing Amy’s killer live to abuse and kill again.

This one’s for you, Amy. If you have any influence up there, try to keep me out of jail, will you?

“GUESS IT’S TIME for Julie and me to hit the road.”

Cutter looked up as Linney came back from the bedroom where she’d gone to check on Julie. She’d freshened up a bit, put on some lipstick and returned the escaping tendrils of red hair to the clasp at the nape of her neck.

“I’d like to go with you,” he said.

“No. I made a mistake in coming here, but I’m not going to compound that by involving you any more than I already have.”

“You’re in good hands with Goose.”

“So he says. He’s meeting me at the precinct. I’ll give him a statement of my suspicions about the drowning not having been an accident and he’ll go with me to take Julie home unless he’s gotten in touch with Dane by then. If so, he’ll have Dane pick her up. Either way, if there’s any confrontation between Dane and me, it will all be a case of police record.”

“Goose means it when he says he’ll follow up with the GHPD on your suspicions of murder.”

“I’m sure he does.”

“But you’re not convinced that it will do any good?”

“Green’s Harbor is out of his jurisdiction.”

Which could be why Cutter had this sinking feeling that he’d let Linney down. “I’ll carry Julie to the car for you.”

“Thanks. She’s heavier than she looks, but try not to wake her. I’d rather she remain asleep until I get her home.”

Cutter tried to be gentle, but he had no experience with kids. Julie’s head rolled and then settled against his chest. He felt an unexplained tightness. Poor kid. She’d lost her mother. Now her only parent was a man Linney was convinced was a murderer.

Holding Julie like this, he could almost understand Linney’s determination to see justice done. But having Linney go to prison for kidnapping was not the way to do it.

Linney led the way to her car, a silver BMW sports convertible that was waiting in a visitor’s slot on the third floor of the parking garage.

“Nice wheels.”

“A present from Al just before I left.”

He’d love to know more about that breakup, or maybe he wouldn’t.

Linney opened the back door and he placed Julie inside, fastening the seat belt around her. She squirmed and then let her head drop to the cushioned headrest of her booster seat without ever opening her eyes.

Cutter shut the back door and walked around to the driver’s door. It was standing open, though Linney was already behind the wheel and fitting the key into the ignition.

“Are you sure you won’t change your mind about my going with you?”

“I’m sure. I’ll be fine, Cutter. You know, you really should visit your aunt Merlee more. And get some groceries in your house.”

He leaned in to kiss her good-bye. Not smart, but he wasn’t feeling particularly smart right now. She turned so that his lips brushed her cheek as she shifted into Reverse. Not a lot left for him to do except close the door and watch her drive off.

He did, then slumped against the back bumper of the red pickup truck that was parked right behind him. She waved and smiled as she turned toward the exit, then gunned the engine and took off.

Feeling emptier than he’d felt since leaving the service, Cutter started back to the elevator of the parking garage, then decided to take the stairs to his fourth-floor condo. Before the accident, he would have run them. He’d be able to again soon, but never with the speed and agility he’d had when his body had been at its peak of performance.

The metal steps rattled on impact, the sound echoing around him as he ascended the lighted stairwell. The sound took him back. The clanking became Russian-made tanks in the distance rattling their way toward him and his team.

They’d been on a rescue mission, one that sane men would have called off when that kid had spotted them in the heavily forested terrain and took off running. One kid was all it took to alert a small army of the Taliban’s men.

They could have stopped him with a bullet. Not one of them ever would have. He was just a kid.

But they were not leaving their captured buddy in the hands of the enemy. It was against the code of the SEALs and everything they lived by.

Linney must feel a similar commitment to get justice for her friend Amy. He knew she wasn’t convinced that Goose could make that happen. Yet she hadn’t seemed that upset when she’d driven off, certainly not as irate as she’d been when he’d first insisted it was the right thing to do.

Cutter came to a screeching halt. What the hell had he been thinking? Linney wasn’t going to meet Goose. She was on the run again. It was an idiotic act that would likely land her in prison for the best part of her life.

Cutter spun around and raced back to the garage, this time to his parking spot. He burned rubber in his haste to exit. Not surprisingly, there was no sign of Linney’s car by the time he pulled onto the side street that fronted his complex. She had at least a five-minute head start and that could put her anywhere.

He turned right at the corner, toward Interstate-10, the most probable escape route if you wanted to get out of town quickly. East would take him into downtown Houston. West would take him toward San Antonio.

Neither choice bode well for spotting her. The traffic on I-10 was always crowded with eighteen-wheelers and gas-guzzling SUVs. Her low-slung sports car would be difficult to spot among them.

Not that it was a sure bet she’d taken the freeway. She could have decided to stay on back roads. There were dozens of possibilities there.

The traffic light at the corner switched from yellow to red. Cutter slowed, then spotted a car exactly like Linney’s pulling out of a service station on the opposite corner.

He waited for the traffic to clear the intersection, then sped through the red light and passed two cars on the right to put him almost directly behind Linney as she turned onto the entrance ramp to I-10, going west, not toward the precinct where she was supposed to give a statement to Goose.

She accelerated, switching lanes quickly, jumping right in between two speeding vehicles. He kept her in sight until some jerk with a suicide wish cut right in front of him on his Harley. Stamping on the brake and swerving to the right, Cutter just managed to keep from colliding with the biker and the babe clinging to him like plaster.

Kidnapping Julie was a crazy stunt. Impulsive. Irresponsible. Coming to him tonight had probably been just as crazy, but then he seriously doubted that Linney had spent six years trying to get over their five nights of fun and games and sexual fireworks.

Cutter had grown up fast in Afghanistan and Iraq, learned the difference between instinct and impulse, discovered how one misstep could cost a life. He knew to pick his battles wisely. At least he thought he had until Linney had shown up and in trouble.

Linney switched lanes again, this time two at a time. She was going to exit, a sudden decision, he guessed. The car behind her switched lanes as well. There was no siren or flashing lights, but Cutter had a strong hunch that the nondescript black sedan held an undercover cop.

Linney pulled into the exit lane. The car behind her stayed on her tail. Cutter swerved in front of a pickup truck and exited a couple of cars behind the sedan.

Linney turned right at the first traffic light. The sedan pulled into a service station. Cutter breathed a little easier. He was certain it would go better for Linney if she returned Julie before there was any police confrontation.

She took a quick left, crossing a set of railroad tracks and turning onto a road that ran beside it. The area grew instantly darker as they left the illumination of streetlights.

A tall fence dominated the side of the road nearest the tracks. There were scattered businesses on the other side. A machine shop. A brake and muffler repair center. A white brick building with a sign promising the best prices in Texas on body work. All closed.

Theirs were the only two cars on the isolated road, and he seriously doubted that Linney had a clue where she was going. He increased his speed, narrowing the space between them as she rounded a curve.

He’d pull up next to her and let her know he was onto her scheme. Maybe she was having second thoughts. With luck, she’d be nervous on this dark road and desperate enough by now that she’d stop and listen to reason.

No such luck. Linney accelerated, leaving him behind. He’d spooked her by getting so close and now she was driving dangerously fast.

Cutter caught a glimpse of movement ahead, then watched a car that resembled the same dark sedan that he’d thought was tailing Linney on the freeway. It pulled out from a deserted lot and onto the road in front of Linney.

The car was driving slow and inching toward the center of the road, straight at Linney. She slowed and headed for the shoulder to avoid a collision if he swerved too far into her lane.

Cutter’s apprehension swelled. If the driver of the approaching car kept coming at the same angle, he’d swipe the side of Linney’s car—or worse. The car kept coming, but now the barrel of what appeared to be a machine gun jutted from the window.

Son of a bitch. This was a setup. The man was going to gun her down and there was no time to stop him.

In seconds, she’d be dead.

Chapter Three

The adrenaline rush hit the way it had hundreds of times before, producing an instantaneous honing of all Cutter’s instincts and training.

Cutter lay on his horn, then veered to the left, crossing the center line and ramming the right-front fender of the shooter’s car just as the crack of gunfire thundered in the night.

His breath burned in his lungs. His move had been worse than risky. It was damn near suicidal. But better than doing nothing while Linney’s head was blown off at close range.

The shooter’s car raked the side of Linney’s, then sped away. Linney’s sports car skidded out of control. She careened off the right shoulder, kicking up dirt and dry leaves before lurching down an incline and slamming into a ditch. Miraculously, the sports car didn’t flip.

Cutter skidded to a stop on the muddy shoulder, grabbed his flashlight from the glove compartment and raced to Linney’s vehicle.

His heart was racing as he peered through the window. The airbags had inflated and were pushed against Linney’s chest so that all he could really see was her face. Blood trickled down her left cheek but there was no visible gaping wound.

“Were you hit?”

“Cutter?” Her eyes were wide, riveted to his, though even in the moonlight he could see that her flesh was ghostly white. “How did you get here?”

“Lucky move.” His breath scorched his lungs. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. Nothing hurts, but someone just took a potshot at me.”

He gasped huge gulps of air and the burning in his chest eased to the point that he could breathe without searing pain.

Julie started to wail. Cutter opened the back door and slipped into the backseat to check on her. Linney managed to extricate herself from the airbag and tumble over the back of the seat, squeezing in between him and Julie. She cradled Julie’s head in her arms.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m right here with you.”

Cutter did a quick visual scan for injuries while Linney tried to calm her. There was no sign of a bullet wound. “She appears okay,” he said.

“Thank God! Does anything hurt?” Linney cooed.

Julie wrapped her arms around Linney’s neck and clung to her as if she were afraid her protector would disappear into the darkness if she let go. “I want my mommy.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

Linney’s voice dissolved into a quake that felt like shrapnel exploding in Cutter’s gut. Linney had come to him for help and he’d practically kicked her out of the condo.

Chances that the attack was random were slim to none. She’d been ambushed. Was that why Dane hadn’t called? Had he killed his wife and then tried to kill Linney to silence her and her suspicions? If he had, he’d risked killing his own daughter as well.

But then he wasn’t expecting interference from Cutter. A sharpshooting cop would have been able to place the bullet exactly on target at that speed and distance.

Cutter crawled from the car and did a quick assessment of damage to the vehicle. It would require towing and bodywork, but there were no bullet holes. Apparently, the shooter had missed his target altogether. But if Cutter hadn’t been here…

He swore under his breath as fury raced through his veins like a roaring river. He scanned the area. The road was deserted. No sign of headlights. No sign of trouble, but that didn’t mean this was over.

Let down your guard for an instant and the enemy gained the advantage.

This enemy was already armed, while he wasn’t. And the enemy had known exactly where to find Linney, had likely followed her when she left Cutter’s condo. There was only one valid explanation for that.

With the help of his flashlight, Cutter searched every inch of the car, working quickly, and making a call to Goose as he did. He explained the latest developments.

Goose let fly a few expletives Cutter hadn’t heard since leaving the Navy.

“Were you able to get in touch with Dane?” Cutter asked.

“I left a message at the phone number the GHPD gave me. He hasn’t called me back. The clerk on duty said he’s on the scene of a major crime and has been for hours. He promised to let Dane know that his daughter’s with Linney Kingston and that she’s fine.”

“Does that mean there’s not an APB out for Linney?”

“Nope. I’m assuming the day-care center got the word to Dane that Julie was with Linney. He must be okay with it.”

“Then I guess we’re covered on that score.”

“As long as Linney cooperates in reuniting father and daughter at the earliest opportunity.”

“I’ll see that she does.”

“I suggest you all go to bed and try to get some rest for now. I know I am. But be careful.”

“Yeah.”

Cutter finished checking out the car. When he was done, he stuck his head through the open back door. “We need to get out of here. I’ll help you get Julie to my truck.”

“I can’t just leave my car here.”

“You won’t be driving it out of that ditch. It’s practically standing on the front bumper. I’ll call a tow truck.”

“I can’t go to the cops, Cutter. You saw what—” Linney stopped herself before blurting out Dane’s name. She buried her face in Julie’s soft hair, kissing her on top of the head. “You saw what he’s capable of.”

“I saw what someone’s capable of. Now let’s get moving. We can decide on an operational plan later.”

“Forget a plan,” Linney said. “I just need a ride back to my house in Green’s Harbor. I’ll handle things from there.”

Linney stayed entangled with Julie, but turned her face so that she was looking at Cutter. Her disheveled mass of red hair was loose now and bouncing about her shoulders. Arbitrary curls rested against her bloody cheek.

Her chin was jutted at a defiant angle and she had a determined strength in her stare that the more youthful Linney of six years ago would never have been able to pull off. Unfortunately, she was as damn irresistible as ever.

“I’m not leaving you,” Cutter said.

“You saved our lives. You’ve done enough.”

It sounded reasonable, but Cutter knew that the instant he’d spotted that gun pointed at Linney’s head, his choice in this was gone. He could no more walk away now than he could sprout wings and fly or whisper some kind of chant and have his old life as a Navy SEAL back.

“I don’t want to make any rash decisions about what to do next. I like a clear plan of action before I engage. But I’m not leaving you, so get in the truck before the lunatic returns and I have to save you again.”

She shifted, peering out the back window as if she thought his prediction would hex them and conjure up headlights. When she didn’t see any, she picked up Julie’s teddy bear and tossed it to him. “I’ll carry Julie if you’ll get her booster seat and grab my handbag out of the front seat. And remember, you asked for us.”

Mere moments later, they’d abandoned Linney’s car in the ditch and were heading back in the direction they’d come from. He’d hold off on telling her of his conversation with Goose until Julie was asleep or they were alone.

“Why did you choose this road to nowhere?” he asked.

“I’ve been on it before with Al. He has a warehouse a couple of miles farther down. The company outgrew the facility, but Al held onto it. Said he couldn’t get enough for it to make selling it worthwhile.”

“Tell me you weren’t planning to hide out there like some criminal on the run.”

“I don’t owe you any explanations.”

Which meant that was exactly what she’d planned to do. “Do you have a key to the warehouse?”

“No, but I could probably figure out the alarm code to keep it from going off. Al’s not the most creative guy when it comes to passwords and codes.”

“So you were going to break in to one of your ex’s properties and hide out with Julie instead of meeting with Goose.”

“Desperate situations call for desperate measures.”

Desperate measures didn’t appeal to Cutter. He liked his risks spelled out and alternate courses of action in place in case he met resistance. As a SEAL, he’d never accepted failure as an option. He definitely wouldn’t now.

When he reached an intersection, he took a road less traveled, a narrow FM road that headed north, as a plan of sorts started forming in his mind. Somehow the claustrophobic condo with one bed and no weapons didn’t seem conducive to strategy planning or keeping Linney safe.

“How do you feel about Dobbin?” he asked.

“You can’t bring your aunt into this.”

“She’s on an Alaskan cruise.”

“What about her foreman? Doesn’t he still live on the property and take care of the land and her horses?”

“Aurelio is still there, but I can’t see what difference that makes. He has his own house.” The more Cutter thought about it, the better the idea of crashing at the Double M sounded.

So it was back to Dobbin, Texas, and the ranch. And back to Linney and an almost guaranteed one-way trip to heartache.

CUTTER STOPPED at the metal gate.

“I’ll get it,” Linney offered, already opening her door to jump into action.

The weathered condition of the rectangular, hardwood Double M sign suggested that it had endured years of Texas thunderstorms and blazing summer heat. It clattered a dubious welcome as Linney jumped from the truck.

The iron scrolls in the gate seemed to be staring at Linney, as taunting as an evil grin carved into a Halloween pumpkin. Even the ranch didn’t want her here, causing trouble for Cutter.

She unlatched the gate and swung it open. The headlights of Cutter’s pickup truck pushed into the darkness, illuminating the rutted dirt road in front of her.

She knew from past visits that the road led through acres of fenced pastureland before banking what counted as a hill in this part of Texas and then veering off toward a huge pond and the sprawling ranch house.

She’d visited the ranch dozens of times before, albeit never with Cutter. As a teenager she’d come here for hayrides with laughing church youth groups or for the mini-rodeos or 4-H events that Hank and Merlee had hosted.

Good folks, people said of his aunt and uncle, the words not nearly conveying their wealth or the influence the couple had held in the small rural community.

Hank can close a deal on a smile and a handshake, and you can stake your life that he’ll keep his word.

Linney’s own dad had said that too many times to count and she knew that Hank Martin had bailed him out financially on more than one occasion.

Once the vehicle rattled across the cattle gap, she closed and latched the gate and scrambled back into the truck. “I’m surprised your uncle never blacktopped this road,” she said as they dodged a deep rut. “When there’s a heavy rain, the road must be almost impassible.”

“Uncle Hank believed a ranch should feel like a ranch and that cows didn’t need paved roads. And he always had four-wheel-drive vehicles.”

“Your uncle was one of a kind.”

“He would say he was just from good Texas stock.”

“Merlee must miss him a lot.”

“I’m sure she does, but she stays upbeat and busy with her gardening and church activities. And traveling with her friend, Josie Watts. I think they’ve cruised every place there’s a tour. This is their second time to Alaska.”

“What do you think she’d say if she knew you were bringing Julie and me here?”

“She’d tell me I’d better not let anything bad happen to either one of you.” Cutter slowed as a large deer stepped into the beam of his headlights. The buck stood motionless, head high, his impressive rack pointing skyward until they were almost upon him. Only then did the magnificent creature turn and run away.

She wondered if the deer sensed danger the way she sensed it now that someone had tried to kill her. No, not someone. Dane. It had to have been him, though she couldn’t imagine how he’d found her so quickly. More disturbing was the fact that he’d opened fire on her with Julie in the car. Now she was expected to just turn the child over to the murderous lunatic.

She checked to see if Julie was still asleep. Satisfied that the toddler was in dreamland, Linney shifted and turned to face Cutter. “Coming here was probably a major mistake.”

“You tell me.”

“I’m serious,” she said, keeping her voice low so as not to wake Julie. “Dane could show up any minute. He must have someone tailing me. How else would he have known I’d be on that road?”

“With this.” Cutter took a black gadget the size of a half dollar from his shirt pocket and tossed it into her lap. “It’s a tracer, the newest model, highly efficient.”

“Where did you find this?”

“Attached beneath the back bumper of your car.”

“Dane must have planted it there right after I made that complaint to the police department,” Linney whispered. “I’ll bet the clerk went straight to him with my suspicions.”

“He probably thinks of Dane as a reliable cop.”

“No wonder no one’s called me back. Dane probably tossed the report.”

“We’re going on a lot of assumptions here. It’s possible the good detective hasn’t seen the report, didn’t plant the tracer and wasn’t tonight’s sniper.”

“Oh, puh-leeze!” She checked again. Julie was still fast asleep. “He’s behind all of it. He’s so arrogant he thinks he can get away with anything. He would have killed me, then stopped and rescued his daughter. End of his problems.”

“Aren’t you forgetting that the day-care center attendant knows Julie left with you today?”

“But they don’t know that I didn’t drive her home.”

Cutter wrapped both hands around the wheel and stretched, grimacing a bit as he rubbed his left thigh. He was probably seriously regretting his offer of help about now. Maybe he figured that six years involved in some of the Middle East’s most dangerous counterterrorism operations was enough heroism for one guy.

She lowered the window a few inches and took a deep breath, letting her lungs fill with the fresh, country air. Smells of pine mixed with wild verbena and the sweet magnolia Merlee had planted along the drive.

Julie stirred in the backseat, and Linney raised the window quickly before the sting of wind had her fully awake. Hopefully the three-year-old would sleep through the night.

“The ranch house is just ahead,” Cutter said. “I’m sure the freezer will be fully loaded but I’m not sure about perishable provisions.”

“We’ll make do until morning,” Linney said, suddenly hit with mind-numbing fatigue. “Then we’ll need milk for Julie. She’ll need clothes, too.”

Cutter rounded the last curve and brought the truck to a jerky stop in the driveway. He yanked the gear into park and turned to face her, his muscles taut and his jaw set at the same unyielding angle as when he’d told her she had to go to the police.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but this is not a permanent arrangement.”

“But—”

“No buts. The minute we hear from Dane, Julie goes home.”

“Fine.” She jumped out of the car before she said something that would really piss Cutter off. She opened the back door to get Julie.

“I’ll carry her inside,” Cutter said, handing Linney his key ring with an oversize bronze key protruding. “You get the door.”

“You’re sure no one’s here?”

“I’m sure Merlee’s in Alaska.”

Cutter unbuckled the seat belt and lifted Julie. She squirmed, raised her head, then let it fall to his broad shoulder. His hand splayed across her back. She looked even more petite in his strong arms, Linney thought. And Cutter looked…

Linney swallowed past a disturbing lump that swelled at the back of her throat. He looked strong and protective. Yet gentle. The image was incredibly seductive and not one she needed to carry into a house where she’d be spending what was left of the night with Cutter.

This was all about getting justice for Amy. Even a hint of the passion that had burned inside her six years ago could screw up her mind and make this even harder than it already was. Far better to just stay aggravated with him.

She opened the door, stepped inside and flicked on the light. The feel of the house wrapped around her like a silken cocoon. It was Merlee to the core. Comfortable. Overflowing with warmth, from the hooked rug to the large overstuffed chairs upholstered in a muted plaid the color of autumn hay.

“We can put Julie in the guest bedroom at the end of the hall,” Cutter said. “There’s only a twin bed, but it’s next to the master suite and it will be easy to hear her if she wakes during the night. The other bedrooms are upstairs.”

“I want her near me.”

“I planned on you taking the master suite.”

“Where will you sleep?”

“I’ll bunk down somewhere if I get tired. But nearby. You’ll be safe, so try and get some sleep. And by the way, there’s no APB out on you. Dane’s working a case, probably the one we heard about on the evening news. So obviously he’s fine that Julie’s with you, at least for tonight.”

“When did you hear all that?”

“I talked to Goose while I was checking out your car. I didn’t mention it then because Julie was awake.”

So that’s why he didn’t believe that it was Dane who’d fired at her. But if not Dane, then who? Someone he’d hired? Or just another dirty cop? Danger might come from a dozen directions, but she wouldn’t back off. Amy deserved justice.

Still, Linney doubted she’d get much sleep tonight.

CUTTER STOOD on the back porch of the house staring into the darkness. No night goggles the way he’d had on nights like this in the Middle East when he’d peered into pockets of danger that lurked behind every tree.

Tonight there was just a Texas moon, its silvery light filtering through the pines and painting shadows that danced in the slight evening breeze. But inside the house where he’d grown up, mere feet away, the woman whose image had haunted him night after night for the last six years was showering and getting ready to spend the night under his roof.

He’d told himself he was over her, that the skyrockets that had lit up his life for those five days and nights of lovemaking had never been as fantastic as they seemed. It was just that they followed on the heels of the endless days of BUD/S training.

Nice theory. Too bad that seeing the machine gun pointed at her head had blown the hell out of it. He’d make certain he wasn’t stupid enough to let those uncontrollable desires take hold again.

But there wasn’t a chance he’d walk away while she was in danger. Even if she went to the police or the FBI or hired a dozen bodyguards, he wouldn’t be able to retreat from the situation until he knew she was safe.

Not that danger had ever deterred him.

Like that night in Afghanistan when he’d dropped from the helicopter with two other team members. They’d carried their full packs as they’d climbed the steep grade to the spot where Henry had last been heard from.

Sweat had dripped from Cutter’s body until he was soaking wet as they’d tramped and cut their way through the heavy underbrush where one wrong step could have sent them plunging to their death.

The difference was that Cutter had understood the danger then. The threat against Linney made no sense at all. If Dane had killed his wife and covered his tracks well, which he would surely have known how to do, then why risk killing Linney just because she’d made a useless trip to the police station?

A piercing ring broke his concentration. Not his cell phone, so it was either someone calling Merlee or Linney. He hurried through the back door and found Linney’s phone on the counter.

He checked the ID. Dane Colley. Ringing phone in hand, Cutter rushed down the hall to the master bedroom that Linney was using and knocked on the door.

“What is it?”

“You have a call from Dane.”

The door flew open, but Linney didn’t make a grab for the phone. Instead, she just stood there, wearing a white T-shirt that she must have pulled from Merlee’s closet. The shirt fell off one shoulder and barely skimmed her private area.

The sight of her like that affected Cutter like a streak of lightning, all fire and hot desire. He pushed the phone into Linney’s hands.

“Answer it.”

Finally, they might find out what was going on in Dane Colley’s mind.

Chapter Four

“Linney, it’s Dane Colley. I’m sorry to wake you.”

“You didn’t.”

“How’s Julie?”

“She’s asleep.”

“Good. I’m really sorry not to get back to you sooner, but I’ve been on a hell of a case. I didn’t even get the message from the day-care center that Julie was upset until I was on my way to pick her up at closing time. Somehow I let the battery on my cell phone run out of juice.”

“They called me when they couldn’t get you. Julie was crying hysterically. They didn’t know what to do with her.”

“That’s what they said. Amy’s drowning has been incredibly hard on her. On both of us. I hadn’t planned to go to work at all, but I was going crazy at the house. And my depression was making it even worse on Julie.”

Linney all but gagged on his fake grief and lies. She knew he’d not only killed Amy, but had tried to kill her tonight to shut her up. This was all a sick game to him.

“I really appreciate your helping out with Julie. She misses Amy so much and doesn’t understand why her mother doesn’t come home. I can’t bring myself to tell her she never will.”

Using Julie in this way made Dane a hundred times more evil. Anger erupted inside Linney, rolling in her stomach like churning rot. Struggling to control the venomous accusations she longed to hurl at him, she counted to ten. Still, civility didn’t come easily.

“I tried to call you earlier,” Dane continued, “but no one answered at your house. I wasn’t worried. I knew you’d take care of her.”

“I have.” Even when you shot at me. “She’s sleeping now, and I’d hate to wake her.”

“I’ll pick her up in the morning, then. I hope I haven’t put you out too much. I called as soon as Wesley dropped me off here at the house and I got the message to try you at this number.”

So this was how it was going to be. He had his alibi in place for the attempt on her life tonight. If she accused him of shooting at her on a deserted road in Houston proper, it would only make the rest of her claims to his guilt in the drowning seem less credible.

Linney looked up and saw Cutter’s eyes boring into hers. He stepped closer and put a supportive hand on her shoulder. She put her hand over the phone. “He’s playing nice,” she whispered. “Says he’ll pick up Julie in the morning.”

“Tell him you’ll bring Julie home in the morning. I’d like a chance to look around inside his house.”

She nodded reluctantly. This was starting to feel like she was using Julie as a pawn. Now that she’d had more time to think about it, the kidnapping idea would have done the same thing.

“Why don’t you let me drop her off? I have a few errands to run anyway.”

“Okay, but I need her here by nine. I’ve agreed to let Amy’s mother’s take Julie home with her for a few days and she’s driving in from the Woodlands to get her.”

Linney took a deep breath, but the air she inhaled seemed icy when it hit her lungs. She was dealing with a killer, making arrangements with him as if they were old friends when she knew the depths of his malice.

“I’ll have her there before nine.”

“Thanks.”

The connection went dead. Linney went weak, her head seeming to swirl with the effort required to talk calmly with Dane. She shuddered and Cutter’s strong arms went around her, pulling her against his chest. She stayed there until the vertigo passed and her legs gained enough feeling to hold her up.

“I hate him.”

“I know, but you handled the conversation well.”

“You mean because I didn’t scream ‘murderer’ into the phone?”

“That and the fact that you arranged a meeting with him so that I can assess the situation and lay out the operation.”

“Fine, as long as that’s Operation Send Dane to Jail.”

“It’s Operation Send the Guilty to Jail.”

“One and the same.” Fatigue dropped over her like weights, but her mind showed no signs of shutting down. “Can we talk outside?”

“Sure. I’ll meet you on the front porch in two minutes. I just need to make one quick stop in the kitchen first. And you might want to slip into something less comfortable.”

Damn! She was standing there practically in Cutter’s arms wearing nothing but a T-shirt that was too big and too short. She hadn’t noticed how much of her was exposed until now. Apparently, Cutter had.

Even after the fact, it bothered her enough that she felt the burn in her cheeks. In spite of everything, there was no way to forget what they’d shared. The chemistry had simply been too hot to ever cool down completely. At least for her.

All in the past. The present was more than enough to deal with now. She rummaged in Merlee’s closet for something to slip into as Cutter’s footsteps receded down the hall.

She found a flowered caftan, a couple of sizes too big and in a shade of orange that made Linney’s red hair look as if it were on fire. By contrast, her complexion paled to a washed-out tint of pink.

Gaudy, but decent, she padded to the porch in her bare feet and dropped to the wooden porch swing. The chains squeaked eerily as the night closed in around her and she felt herself sliding into the depths of gloom she’d faced when she’d first heard about Amy’s drowning.

Cutter joined her, carrying two glasses filled with tinkling ice and an amber liquid. He handed her one. She put it to her lips and the odor overwhelmed her. “I don’t drink whiskey.”

“Think of it as medicine.”

“I’m not sick.”

“You’re wound so tight you might shoot into orbit at any moment.”

She took a sip and felt the burn travel down her throat and settle in her stomach. The anger and irritation welded into a seamless blue funk. “This is all a game to Dane, an unspeakably evil game.”

“Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me everything he said?”

She nodded and took another sip of the whiskey. She still didn’t like the taste, but the burn to her throat and nostrils seemed to clear her mind for the moment.

Cutter balanced himself on the porch banister and listened patiently until she’d covered everything. “I feel better that she’s staying with Amy’s mother. I think it may do her good to get out of the house.”

“Were Amy and her mother close?”

“She didn’t talk about her mother much, but I know she drove out to the Woodlands to visit her on occasion. I don’t recall her ever saying that Dane went with her on those visits. Oh, and I know Edna took Amy and Julie to a local water park for Julie’s third birthday.”

“What about Amy’s father? Is he around?”

“No. Her parents were divorced when she was a baby. They’d lost touch with him years ago. As far as I know, he wasn’t even at Amy’s funeral.”

“That explains why he didn’t go after Dane with a baseball bat when he battered his daughter. What about siblings?”

“She was an only child. Where are you going with this?”

“If Amy was afraid of Dane or if he’d ever made threats against her, there’s a good chance she told someone—like her mother, or a sister if she had one. If a family member went to the GHPD, it might stir more action than your complaints generated.”

“If Amy’s mother has any suspicions of murder, she’s hiding them well.”

“What do you mean?”

“One of the local TV stations interviewed her and Dane the night of the drowning. She actually leaned on him at one point as if he were her pillar of strength. It turned my stomach.”

“Do you know how to get in touch with her?”

“I know her name is Edna Sears and that she lives in the Woodlands. That’s it.”

“I think we should pay her a visit.”

“Good idea. We can offer to take Julie to her house to pick up her things and then drop her off with Amy’s mother.”

“Sounds like a plan. The more immediate plan should be for you to go to bed and get some rest.”

“The Navy made you bossy.”

“I was always bossy. The Navy taught me to sound authoritative.”

“Were you ever afraid, Cutter? I mean when you were thousands of miles from home, surrounded by the enemy with gunfire shattering the night?”

“Lots of times. A little fear can heighten your senses and help keep you alive. The trick is to never let it cloud your mind or dull your will. Like a woman, it can consume you if you let it.”

He stood and took her hand, pulling her to her feet. “You don’t have to be afraid, Linney. I’ll keep you safe.”

Her hand lingered in his. She was standing in his personal space, so near she could feel his breath on her skin. Her pulse quickened and the familiar memories flooded her mind. Heat darted through her, settling in places where she shouldn’t feel anything tonight.

The impulse to stretch to her tiptoes and find his mouth with hers was all but overpowering. Just one quick taste to see if his lips still held the same salty-sweet flavor that had driven her wild in San Diego in what seemed like another lifetime.

He dropped her hand quickly, as if he’d been burned by the same sizzle that had gripped her. “Get some rest,” he said, dismissing the sensual tension as if it were nothing. “You’ll need it to deal with Dane.”

And for dealing with Cutter and a desire that didn’t have the decency to just fade away.

CUTTER WOKE AT DAYBREAK. He’d slept very little, but losing one night’s sleep would have hardly any effect on his mental or physical functioning. He’d learned to deal with sleep deprivation and exhaustion in training and in the countless operations that followed.

He stretched and kicked back the sheets he’d spread on the sofa. There were plenty of empty beds in the house, but they were upstairs, too far away from Linney and Julie in case there had been trouble.

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