TEXAS-STYLE PROTECTION

Sheriff Pete Morrison knew the secret in his past could destroy his father. Yet instead of resigning his job and exposing the lie, he found himself protecting Andrea Allen—a beautiful astronomer who witnessed a gun-smuggling operation and a college student’s abduction. Determined to be independent, a relationship with her conflicted protector isn’t in the cards. No matter how safe she feels in Pete’s strong arms. But when things take a turn for the worse and Andrea exchanges herself for the abducted student, only Pete can save her from the horrible fate that awaits her.

“You’re serious?” Pete challenged. “Someone’s trying to kill you and you want me to leave you here, defenseless?”

“And I appreciate you saving me. Twice. But I can’t tell you anything else, so isn’t it more important to catch that creep and find clues at the accident?”

“The scene and Suit Man aren’t my priority. You are.”

His blue eyes searched hers. If she’d known what he needed to hear, she would have said it. But she was a little frightened or worried or maybe just confused from the blow to her ear.

What was she thinking? These men had rammed her car off the road with the intention to kill her. And in all probability they had killed the man she’d been trying to help.

“I’ll concede that you don’t know me, but I’m not defenseless.” The soreness in her jaw screamed otherwise. “I can take care of myself.”

“Not tonight.” He stepped back, one hand pushing through a thick head of short, light brown hair. “I’m escorting you home until someone decides what to do with you.”

The Sheriff

Angi Morgan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ANGI MORGAN writes Mills & Boon® Intrigue novels “where honor and danger collide with love.” She combines actual Texas settings with characters who are in realistic and dangerous situations. Angi and her husband live in north Texas, with only the four-legged “kids” left in the house to interrupt her writing. They recently began volunteering for a local Labrador retriever foster program. Visit her website, www.angimorgan.com, or hang out with her on Facebook.

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CAST OF CHARACTERS

Pete Morrison—Acting Sheriff of Presidio County, Texas. Adopted by a deputy who became sheriff, he was raised at the department and has been in law enforcement since high school.

Andrea Allen—Working on her PhD in Star Studies. A daughter who would like to succeed without the help of either of her very successful parents. If she finishes her paper, she can secure a job at one of the top observatories in the world.

Joe Morrison—Retired as sheriff after suffering a heart attack. He adopted Pete twenty-five years ago. Everyone in Marfa knows and loves him. But everyone has secrets.

Honey & Peach—Sisters who dispatch for the Presidio County Sheriff’s Department.

Commander Tony Allen—Andrea’s father, a former astronaut working for Homeland Security’s Customs and Border Protection Office.

Cord McCrea—Texas Ranger and ranch owner, head of the newly formed West Texas task force tracking drug and gun runners.

Sharon—An undergrad working at the McDonald Observatory.

Patrice—A woman who delivers messages for the drug/gun runners.

Mr. Rook—A sadistic man of perfection who plays chess like he’s playing with people’s lives.

Thanks so much, Jan, you’ve been a rock star this year. Jill and Allison, your understanding and support is unsurpassed.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Cast of Characters

Dedication

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

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

“This is not happening. Aliens are landing and I can’t find the camera.”

Lights moved in an erratic pattern low in the sky. Not aliens, but it was fun to think so. Someone on the ground? No. The lights were moving too swiftly. It had to be a chopper. It could not be a phenomenon. And especially not a UFO.

Andrea Allen was very familiar with everything that flew. She had to be when she was the only child of an astronaut and a pretty good pilot herself. It was definitely not a plane. It didn’t look like a chopper, but it had to be. The lights weren’t in the correct place. It hovered and disappeared.

Pulling the cords from her ears, she heard the faint drumbeat of “Bohemian Rhapsody” rocking in the background, but no mechanical sounds echoing in the distance. She rubbed her eyes and found the hovering object with the telescope. Whatever it was, it just wasn’t producing enough light to distinguish an outline above the desert with a mountain ridge in the background.

Normally, she was bored out of her mind with the study on the Marfa Lights. Even though several tourists had posted seeing activity recently, no one with credentials had verified anything. Tourists posted all the time. Didn’t they know it was just an occurrence similar to the aurora borealis? Everyone had heard of the northern lights, right?

The UT students studying the local phenomenon from the McDonald Observatory got excited, clamoring for a turn to watch the uneventful sky. Three nights later with no activity, everyone assumed the sighting had been taillights from the highway and then they all wanted the weekend off for a party.

Bored. Tonight had been no exception.

Nothing happened in this West Texas desert except lots of star time. Which she loved. She loved it a lot. Much more than she missed friends and family. Staring at a clear night sky was something even her astronaut dad didn’t understand.

Since it hadn’t been her night to stare through a telescope at the far distant universe, her coworker Sharon had begged Andrea to take her place on the university study. Sharon wanted the night off because she had a hot date with her boyfriend, Logan. Granted, the young student had been here three nights in a row, since it was part of her class assignment. Andrea didn’t mind. She needed to switch sleeping to days anyway.

Another sparkle of red twinkled. Just a bit closer than the last spot.

With her spare hand she dug around in the disorganized bag her coworker had dropped in her front seat before leaving the observatory. “Where’s that silly camera?”

She lost sight of the floating light through the scope and bounced her gaze to the horizon. Nothing. Had it disappeared?

If the darn thing came back, she needed the camera to record it. Dumping the satchel upside down, she searched through the assortment of items that resembled a loose picnic basket. Snacks, bottles of water, gum wrappers, a notepad, a small tripod, a spoon to go along with the empty yogurt containers, three different bags of candy—the butterscotch made her pause and unwrap a piece to stick in her mouth. No video camera.

She scooped everything back into Sharon’s UFO-watching sack.

Where’s the camera? It was just here. She closed her eyes to visualize getting in the car. Sharon had run outside with the bag in her hand as the car backed out of the parking space. The window had been down. “Passenger side. It must have fallen under the seat.”

“My gosh.” The adrenaline rush grew each time she saw the light a bit closer. A burst of red. A burst of blue. A plane would have red or green running lights on its wings and a white strobe light would be a consistent flash. A chopper, same thing. There were ways to identify what was in the air. Flight patterns.

Amazed, she just stared.

“Camera!” She ran to the car, pausing when she caught sight of the red flash again. She still couldn’t distinguish an outline of what was flying haphazardly and low to the ground. It couldn’t be a UFO. There were no such things.

Did she really believe that? No life in the universe other than on Earth? No time to debate, she needed pictures. Lots of pictures and evidence.

No one was around for miles to break into Sharon’s tiny compact car, so it wasn’t locked. The keys were still even in the ignition. Andrea yanked open the door, immediately feeling under the seat. “Gotcha!”

The strap was caught on something. The sky behind her was empty as she switched to the backseat, dropping to her knees again to get low enough to search.

If she could obtain evidence of the Marfa Lights, she could publish in addition to her PhD, make a name for herself as an astronomer. Finally be worthy of her Allen heritage. It all hinged on concrete evidence. Could it happen? She recognized the sudden nausea and shakiness as fear. Fear of jumping to conclusions and being discredited. She’d verify the facts.

“What am I thinking? I have my own study to finish. I’m not chasing another subject. This is university work. I. Can’t. Switch. Again.” Her teeth ground against each other in frustration—not only with the silly camera strap, but also with the lack of focus her parents had accused her of. “What is this stuck on?”

The flashlight was back on the viewing platform with the UFO bag, and the dome light had been out for months. She couldn’t really see anything under the seat, even bent at another awkward angle. But she finally came up with the handheld video camera, pressing Record and immediately scanning the sky for her mystery lights.

Andrea maneuvered from the tiny car, resting the camera on the door frame. “I don’t know if it’s appropriate to talk while recording, but I think it’s better to describe what I’m seeing. Mainly because I don’t know what I’m seeing. Five minutes ago there were flashing lights. Nothing about it suggests standard aircraft. And yet nothing suggests the Marfa phenomenon.”

The corner of her eye caught a blur, something running from the darkness in her direction. She swung the camera toward it.

“I can’t tell what that is. For the record, I’m Andrea Allen and alone out here. There’s nothing close at hand to defend myself from wild animals or— Good grief, what is that?”

She kept recording, squinted. Still couldn’t make it out. “The lights have disappeared. I don’t know what’s weaving toward me, but I think I’m going to get back in the car and roll up the windows.”

Proud of herself for continuing the recording, she felt with one hand until finding the window handle. It was the first time she was grateful she’d paid extra for electric windows. But she wasn’t in her car, she was in Sharon’s old sedan. Backseat ready, she pushed the lock and shut it, then moved to the front door.

During the transfer, she lost where the movement was, spotting it again when she found the handle. Closer. More in focus. A man. Staggering.

She dropped the camera on the seat, using both hands to tug at the window stuck on the old car. “Not now. Uh. Give me a break.”

“Help.”

“Help? Not likely.” She ran to the driver’s side. If she couldn’t get locked inside her car, she didn’t have to stay there.

Marfa was nine miles away. This was a police matter.

“Please. Help. Night of aliens.”

She heard him loud and clear as he tripped and stumbled into her. Shirtless, his skin horribly dirty. His lips parched and cracked. With his short-cropped military cut, she could see the gaping wound on the side of his head. There were cuts and bruises all over his arms. Some fresh, some old.

Where was the nearest hospital? Alpine. She couldn’t leave him.

He fell into her arms, knocking her into the car frame. She kept him moving, guiding his fall onto the backseat. She pushed at his legs, tried folding them so the door would close.

“Come on, man. Help me...out...here.” He was unresponsive and most likely unconscious. She ran to the other door, forgetting it was locked, wasting precious time reaching through the window. She yanked and pulled until he budged enough to bend his knees on top of his body and shut both doors. It had to be uncomfortable, but the man wasn’t complaining.

“Hospital!”

She left everything on the viewing platform, including her cell phone, only having a moment of disappointment about not documenting evidence. This guy was clearly not from a UFO. It looked as if he’d been in the desert for days.

There was no question the man’s life was much more important than any research. She pointed the car east toward Alpine. Marfa was closer and had a doctor but no hospital. The dashboard lights showed smudges of the man’s blood on her hands and forearms. She felt the stickiness of a heavy damp saturation just above her hip.

“Are you bleeding to death?” she screamed at the unconscious stranger and threw on the brakes. “Were you attacked by coyotes or something?”

Twisting to look at him closer, she searched the middle compartment for anything, even napkins. There was nothing here to stem the loss of blood. She pulled her long-sleeve shirt over her head and shifted to reach his body, searching with her hands until she found a wound. Her fingers found a distinct puncture. She’d never seen one in real life, but there was no mistaking the bullet hole.

Dear Lord. “What happened to you?”

She pressed the shirt into his side, moving his arm into a position to hold it in place. He moaned.

“Thank God you’re alive, but who knows how long that will last.”

The lights were closer, then gone again.

Using all the training her father had taught her about control, she forced her thoughts to slow and hold herself together. She readjusted in the seat and buckled the seat belt in place before putting the car in Drive.

One at a time, she swiped her hands across her jeans to remove the man’s damp blood before pulling out of the parking lot. She dipped her head to her shoulder, trying to push a loose piece of hair, stuck across her cheek, off her sweaty face.

What in the world was she getting involved in? A secret chopper? Maybe a new stealth plane? “Are you military or something? I sure hope you’re not a fugitive or a drug runner. But whoever you are, you’re dying and I have to get you to a hospital.”

Nothing was around for miles. No homes, no businesses, no help. Help? She should call for help. Where was her stupid phone?

Oh, no. It was in the chair where she’d dumped Sharon’s bag. She needed to call, tell someone she had an injured man and get directions to the hospital in Alpine. She turned in the small lot, prepared to jump from the car and dial on the way back. A one-or two-minute delay was better than getting lost. Maybe they could send an ambulance to meet her.

Bright spotlights blinded her in all her mirrors. She couldn’t see and tilted the rearview up. Forget the phone. She punched the gas and could smell the smoking rubber of the slightly balding tires.

“It’s following us!” Whatever it was, it was practically on top of the trunk.

The road was straight so she couldn’t stop or it would crash into her. There was no way to outrun it in an old four-cylinder economy.

“Now what?”

Colored lights flashed. The inside of the car looked like a blinking neon sign. She could barely see the two-lane highway, and then whatever followed rammed the little car. Andrea’s neck jerked back. Her body smashed against the seat belt. Her wrists slammed into the steering wheel. Her father would be proud she didn’t scream—as much as she wanted to let out a string of obscenities at whoever was flying that thing.

Another hit. The thing had to be a chopper. The man in her backseat had to be in serious trouble and now so was she.

The car skidded sideways onto the shoulder and beyond. She maintained her grip, steering through the grass on the side of the highway. The chopper blocked her path back to the road. They bounced a few seconds before she aimed at the wire between fence posts and gunned the little engine again.

She had no idea what was out here. She could be headed straight to a small boulder or a ravine. The unknown was definitely frightening, but not as much as the chopper on her tail.

As suddenly as the thing appeared behind her, it was gone. No lights. No sounds. She wanted to slow down, but it wasn’t safe. Too late she wished she had when a slab of broken foundation forced the car sideways.

It rolled.

She screamed.

Chapter Two

Driving this empty length of pavement could put him to sleep if he wasn’t careful. Pete Morrison stretched his neck from side to side, turned the squad car’s radio up a bit louder and rolled down the window for fresh air. A quick trip out to the Lights Viewing Area and back to the office for some shut-eye.

Probably just a plane and a waste of taxpayer gas.

“I saw some strange stuff out there,” a trucker had told Dispatch. “I don’t believe in UFOs or nothing like that, but if it is, I want the credit for seeing it first. Okay?”

“Sure thing” had been the standard reply to every driver who thought he’d seen a UFO. And each report had to be checked out. It was Marfa, after all.

Griggs would get an earful in the morning about honesty and the law. This was the third time in two weeks Pete had covered the son of a gun’s night shift at the last minute because of illness. Everyone knew the deputy had gone to Alpine to party. If he wanted to change shifts, he just needed to ask. There were twelve other deputies on the payroll, and yet Pete was covering. Again.

Partying hadn’t been something he’d personally wanted to do for the past couple of months. But since Griggs had transferred from Jefferson Davis County, he’d been covering his shifts a lot. Covering wasn’t the problem. He got extra pay and could normally sleep on the back cot. Nothing ever happened in Marfa beyond speeding citations and public intoxication.

Tonight was one of the exceptions. He’d make a quick pass by the official Marfa Lights Viewing Area, drive back and get some shut-eye.

“Dispatch, I’ve got an all clear. Not seeing anything unusual. But I might as well make a run to the county line.”

“Okey dokey, Pete. This is Peach. See you in a while.”

He laughed at Peach’s official acknowledgment. No sense trying to get her to change. Everyone called her Peach. She insisted on it. Her sister, Honey, got the day shift since she was older. He supposed nicknames were better than Winafretta and Wilhilmina. They’d been in Dispatch for as long as his dad had been a deputy or sheriff of Presidio County. Or longer. His dad swore no one could remember hiring either of them. They’d just shown up one day.

When his dad officially retired, the new sheriff could request replacements for them, but he’d like to see anyone tell Peach she was too old to handle things at night around the office. A shot of regret lodged like a clump of desert dirt in his throat. He’d have to withdraw his name from the election so someone else would step forward. Galen Rooney had only been on the force for a couple of years and just didn’t have the experience needed to run things.

No matter who the county elected, they’d most likely keep him on as a deputy. If not... Unfortunately, he hadn’t thought past quitting the race. The idea of withdrawing gnawed at his gut like a bad case of food poisoning. He’d never quit anything. His dad—he couldn’t ever think of the man who’d raised him as anything else—wouldn’t be happy.

“Crap. What the hell was that?”

He successfully dodged a long object in the middle of the road. He swiftly U-turned the squad car, flipped his lights on and drove a couple of seconds. Parking across the road, he turned the floodlight until it shone on a black bumper resting on the yellow line.

Joe Morrison had raised him riding shotgun in a squad car. The mental checklist of what he did exiting his vehicle was as natural as walking. Even if Peach wasn’t a stickler for the rules, he still needed to let her know exactly what he was doing.

“Dispatch, I swung back west to pick up some road debris. Guess a bumper dropped from a car and the driver didn’t stop to take care of it. Almost sent me off the road.”

“Wow, Sheriff Pete. It’s a good thing we got that call to take you out that way tonight, then,” Peach replied through the speaker. “What if an eighteen-wheeler had hit that thing? Oh, gosh, and what if it had been transporting fuel or hazardous waste? It might have spilled and leached into the water supply. We could have had deformed livestock or mutant wolves running around for years without anyone knowing.”

“You reading another end-of-the-world novel, Peach?”

“How did you know?” she asked.

“Lucky guess.” He laughed into the microphone. Peach and Honey’s theories of espionage and Armageddon changed daily with each book they read.

“Well, I’m at a good spot in the story, so I’ll let you clear the garbage. Shout out when you’re heading back,” she said.

“You got it. And, Peach, will you stop with the sheriff title? You know I’m the acting sheriff until the election.”

“I feel the same way about my dispatch title.”

“Point taken.”

Picking up the plastic bumper from a small car, he noticed some skid marks on the asphalt. He flipped his flashlight on and followed their path to the gravel and farther into the flattened knee-high grass. A vehicle had obviously gone off the road. He tossed the bumper to the side and started walking.

About twenty yards away, the fence wasn’t only down, but a section had been demolished and disappeared. There was nothing in range of the flashlight beam, so he shut off the light and let his eyes adjust to the well-lit night.

He finally spotted the car, the underbelly reflecting the starlight about four hundred yards into the field. He ran the short distance to the vehicle. The driver might need a hospital. A serious injury, he’d need to transport himself.

“Dispatch.” Back in his car, he pointed the spotlight directly in front of the hood and followed the path through the fence. “Peach?” He raised his voice to get her attention.

“I’m here, just finishing the chapter. You heading back?”

“Looks like a vehicle went off the road about half a mile east of the Viewing Area. I spotted it. Driving there now. Check if there are any cattle around that could get loose, and notify the owner.”

“Time to wake the sheriff.”

“Don’t wake Dad. He’s officially retired.”

“You know that’s not going to stop him. Neither could a heart attack.”

“Give me five minutes to check out the vehicle, Peach.” And do something on his own without his dad shouting instructions in his ear. “I need to find the driver and see if we need assistance.”

“He’s gonna be mad,” she sang into the radio. “You know how he hates to be the last told.”

“My call.”

“But you know how he is,” she whined.

“Remember that he’s retired. Five minutes.”

“Yes, sirree-dee, Acting Sheriff Morrison.”

Yeah, but for how long? He watched the land closest to him, searching for ditches or large rocks. Closer to the vehicle, it was apparent it had hit the foundation of an old building. Whoever had been driving the car had been traveling at a high speed, hit the broken concrete and flipped the vehicle.

He approached with caution, flashlight in hand, gun at his fingertips. “County Sheriff. Anyone need help?”

No answer. Nothing but the cool wind.

He switched the flashlight, looked inside the car. One body. Nonresponsive.

“Sir?” He felt the man’s neck for a pulse. “Damn.”

Dead.

The body was mangled pretty badly. “You should have buckled up, stranger. How’d you end up in the backseat?” He’d seen weirder things happen in car accidents than the driver being thrown around.

Back at his car, he pulled his radio through the open window. “Peach, send for an ambulance. We have a fatality.”

“Poor soul.”

“Yeah.” He tossed the microphone onto the seat.

“Unit says they’re about an hour out, Pete,” he heard through the speaker. “There was an accident in Alpine and since it’s only a pickup they aren’t in a hurry.”

“Not a problem.”

No shut-eye anytime soon. He was stuck waiting here an hour unless Peach called him for a Marfa emergency. Fat chance. He’d get the pics they’d need for their records and maybe catch a nap after. He grabbed the camera from the Tahoe.

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

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

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

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

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

“Ma’am? Can you hear me?”

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

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

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

“Bored already?” Peach asked.

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

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

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

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

The Marfa Lights sure did attract a lot of kooks.

Chapter Three

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

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

Pardon, acting sheriff.

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

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

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

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

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

“Just being thorough.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great. Thanks. Can I go now?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t say a word.”

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

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

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

“I don’t know her number.”

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

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

“I did mention she’s a student.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Miss Allen—”

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

“Andrea. We’ve done some checking.”

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

“You did mention that aliens were chasing you.”

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

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

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

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

“Maybe we should talk later?”

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

“What if we need the room?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“That’s classified.”

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

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

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

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

Suit Man had something in one hand and the other hand on the door handle.

“Watch out!” she yelled.

Pete ducked, but she couldn’t get out of the path. The metal hit her square in the ear, and she tumbled to the linoleum.

There was some yelling, really close to her ear, but the world was spinning sufficiently enough that it didn’t register. She saw the blur of black dress shoes running from the room. It was all she could do to focus on not passing out. Then the strong arms she admired lifted her to the table.

“Everything okay in here, Pete?” the voice she’d heard earlier from the hall asked through the intercom.

“Yardly, I need a doctor, and where’s security?”

“It’s just a bump. My ears are ringing. That’s all.” She’d seen double for a few seconds, but that had already passed. “What are you waiting for?”

A nurse and then a doctor entered. Pete slipped out, but she could hear his raised voice in the hall. She saw his phone to his ear. Watched him pace in front of the rectangle of a window and then speak with the doctor before coming back in the room.

“Why aren’t you chasing Suit Man?” she asked between the blood pressure cuff and insisting she was fine.

“You’re stuck with me while I ensure your safety. That’s your best option.” He didn’t seem at all satisfied being saddled with the position of her protector.

“I can wait for the police. There are plenty of people here. So go.”

“You’re serious?” He followed the nurse to the door, looked down the hall and slammed it shut. “Someone’s trying to kill you and you want me to leave you here, defenseless?”

“And I appreciate your saving me. Twice. But I can’t tell you anything else, so isn’t it more important to catch that creep and find clues at the accident?”

“The scene and Suit Man aren’t my priority. You are.”

She watched his Adam’s apple bob nicely as he swallowed hard. His blue eyes searched hers. If she’d known what he needed to hear, she would have said it. But she was a little frightened or worried or maybe just confused from the blow to her ear.

What was she thinking? These men had rammed her car off the road trying to kill her. Okay, technically, it was Sharon’s car. And in all probability, they had killed the man she’d been trying to help. She’d been knocked silly-unconscious by a complete stranger with really good counterfeit DHS credentials who also wasn’t afraid to show his face and try to kill her with security cameras everywhere.

“I’ll concede that you don’t know me, but I’m not defenseless.” The soreness in her jaw screamed otherwise. “He caught me off guard. That’s all. I can take care of myself.”

“Not tonight.” He stepped back, one hand going to his hip and the other pushing through a thick head of short, light brown hair. “I’m escorting you home until someone decides what to do with you. The local authorities will find Suit Man.”

“Are you sure about that?”

She’d lost her chance. He’d made his decision. And it was probably best. The only personal possessions she still had were her earphones. They’d hooked around her neck and somehow not fallen off. If she’d been alone when the Suit attacked, she would have been dead before she could press the nurse call button.

Or maybe worse. She might have actually been woozy enough to leave with him. Then what?

The sheriff opened the door. “Yardly!” The nurse he’d been speaking to came running. “We’re not waiting to give an incident report. We’re leaving. Do what you have to do to get us out of here. Now.”

“Well then...it isn’t just another boring Friday night, after all.”

Chapter Four

Pete kept Andrea Allen in sight through the sliver of an opening in the door. There weren’t any windows in the exam room, and he needed to keep an eye on her. Victim or perpetrator. He didn’t know if that was an unsuccessful rescue attempt or an averted abduction.

Whichever, something didn’t sit right and he wanted to know what she was doing. She was the prime suspect or witness in a man’s death.

“I’ve got things under control, Dad. I don’t need backup at the hospital. I’ll be gone before anyone can get here. We’re just waiting on a prescription. There’s nothing you can do. I know you’re already at the office. Just stay there and handle that end of things. When exactly did Peach call you?”

“Now, son, it’s no reflection on your abilities that she called. We’ve been working together for a couple of decades.”

When were any of his instructions going to be followed?

He’d been at the hospital almost three hours waiting on Andrea to be treated and discharged before Suit Man—it was as good a description as any—had shown up. And to get the okay for her to leave was taking a lot longer than he’d anticipated. The murderers seemed to be a lot more organized than the hospital staff, who couldn’t get them out the door.

“Who am I kidding? Peach called the real sheriff as soon as I reported the dead body. Right?” A guy who went missing by the time the ambulance showed up twenty minutes later.

“You are the sheriff now and never mind how long I’ve been here,” his father said, sounding wide-awake and probably on his third cup of coffee. He’d dodged answering like he usually did. “The picture you sent popped a red flag. I’m waiting on a call from the DEA and DHS.”

“You think this guy was working undercover?” His charge was lying on an ER bed, ice bag on her ear.

“Could be, Pete. They’re waking up some top-dog bureaucrat to get instructions. I don’t want the call to drop on my way out to the Viewing Area. But I want to take a look at that car before it disappears, too.”

“So you believe our Sleeping Beauty’s story about the flashing lights?” His dad would take over the crime scene while Pete babysat the witness. This night just kept getting better and better.

“Well, something’s not right. Dead bodies don’t just walk away. The paramedics are sure there was no sign of animal involvement?” his dad asked.

“They actually accused me of yanking their chain when they returned to the hospital.” A quick look into the room confirmed Andrea was still asleep, secure and safe.

“Then whoever was in the chopper chasing our witness didn’t want the body found.”

“Did Peach get anyone at the observatory to verify her ID?”

“Yeah, the director confirmed everything. She’s lucky you got there as soon as you did or she’d be dead twice over now. Don’t let her out of your sight until we get this thing figured out.”

“I hadn’t planned to. I know my job, Dad.” He wasn’t normally a pacer, but he couldn’t lean against the wall much longer. He looked at the nurses’ station, where there was still no sign of activity.

“You’ll make a fine replacement. I’m looking forward to sleeping in,” his dad said.

“That’ll never happen. You’ll just be at the café for breakfast earlier.” He left the replacement statement hanging. He couldn’t get into a conversation they’d been avoiding for almost six weeks while in the middle of what was becoming a major mess. “Listen, you know you’re supposed to take it easy. I’ll stop by the crash site on my way back.”

“I’m not an invalid.”

“You should be after a quadruple bypass.”

Andrea yanked the door open.

“He’s dead?” She was obviously panicked, more upset than she’d been earlier after the Suit had backhanded her jaw. “The man who stumbled out of the desert is dead? Did he die in the crash? Did I kill him?”

“Gotta run, Dad. Get a deputy there to pick you up. You shouldn’t be driving.” He slid the cell into his pocket and faced her. “I’m sorry you had to hear like that. How he died wasn’t clear when I viewed the body, so I don’t have the answer to your question.”

“I need another shirt. Now.”

He witnessed her realization she still wore the man’s blood. Her chest began rising and falling more rapidly, and she was about to completely lose it. Good or bad? He didn’t know. They didn’t get too many cases like this bizarre situation in Jeff Davis County.

One second he was sticking his head out the door calling for clean scrubs and the next he saw Andrea tug the back of her shirt over her head.

“What are you doing?”

She threw the shirt across the room. “I think that’s self-explanatory. What? You’ve never seen a woman in a bra before?”

“Here.” He shifted the pillow from the bed to block the view of her breasts.

“I’m not claiming harassment, if you’re worried—”

“This is a small town and people will talk no matter what you claim.”

“Someone’s trying to kill me. I have no idea why. And you’re worried about seeing me in my bra.” She stared at him, hugging the pillow to her stomach.

She wanted a logical explanation. There wasn’t one. “They’re covering their bases.”

“But I don’t know anything,” she whispered.

“They don’t know that.”

The door swung open, and Ginny held a pair of pink scrubs. She handed them to him without a word and turned to leave.

“Wait.” He stopped the nurse after the disapproving look she shot his way. “I’ll leave and you help Miss Allen get cleaned up and changed. Bag all her clothes, will ya?”

“Sure, Pete.” Ginny smiled, raising an eyebrow to match the questions in her voice.

He stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind him, leaning against the wall and refusing to beat his head against the drywall. He was attracted to Andrea Allen in a major way and needed to set it aside until this mess was cleared up.

It didn’t matter that her belly had been faintly stained with blood. He’d barely been able to think like a sheriff while admiring her other...assets. His red-hot American boy shouted at him to take notice.

The woman he’d been watching closely was completely in shape, sleek muscles in spite of being a scholar. That is, they still needed to verify her identity. They hadn’t found any ID at the scene. Nothing on the viewing platform the way she claimed. And if he hadn’t seen the dead man himself, they’d be questioning her story about that, too.

Maybe that’s what she’d intended? Get him distracted so she could slip out of the hospital. Andrea Allen might just be a legitimate name she acquired so she could pretend to be someone from the university.

She was either the most carefree, speak-her-mind woman he’d ever met or the best con artist he’d ever witnessed. Being a looker helped. Spirited. Easily embarrassed on one hand and then contradicting it by stripping her shirt off without blinking an eye. Dark brown hair, skin that hadn’t seen sun in a while and at least five necklaces, varying in length, drawing his stare to a pair of perfectly shaped breasts.

Ginny closed the door behind her. “She sure is upset that mystery guy is dead. You better watch her, Pete. No tellin’ what you’ve stumbled across now. Guess that’s the breaks when you’re the sheriff.” She dragged a finger across his nameplate. “Give me a call the next time you’re in Alpine.”

That ship had sailed a long time ago. “Thanks. Got an estimate on that prescription?”

“I’ll go check for you.”

He knocked on the door. Andrea sat on the bed, tapping the nails of her right hand on those of her left.

“So they think I’m crazy or lying. What do you think?” She had a pretty pout.

He shrugged and leaned on the wall again. “Maybe the man isn’t dead after all. Maybe he came to and wandered into the desert. Search party will find him or evidence. They’re usually good at that.”

He cleared his throat, shifted his stance and forced his thoughts back to this case. A real case. A case that would prove he could be sheriff on his own merit. Not just because his dad had to step down after his heart attack. A case that would cinch an election.

He could hear questions being asked in the hall and no answers given to Ginny. But as much as the nurse kept her mouth shut here, he knew from firsthand experience she’d be sharing that he hadn’t left the room. It would be all over the county as soon as she got on her social media devices.

So be it. Her gossiping was one of the reasons they’d stopped dating. Among other things.

If the woman he’d found had been caught in the wrong place, she needed protection. She could be a witness to a mysterious crime. Or part of it. He didn’t know, but he would be discovering the truth soon.

Whatever was going on, until he figured it out, Andrea Allen was stuck with him.

* * *

BEING LOOPY IN the same room with a handsome man in uniform was humiliating enough. Then Andrea had taken her shirt off. Oh, my gosh. And he was handsome. She melted a bit when he put his hat on while leaving the hospital. A cowboy? Really? She was a rock ’n’ roll girl all the way. Classic rock and definitely not country. This guy wore boots. Real boots. Still, she wanted to find out what kissing him was like.

She absolutely adored cleft chins. Especially this one. Then there were his eyes—kind and serious, or embarrassed and sweet.

“In case you’re curious, we’re heading down Highway 90 to Marfa instead of directly back 118 to Fort Davis. Just in case Suit Man is waiting with friends. There are plenty of cops on 90 tonight.”

“Thanks.”

She refused to further embarrass herself by making small talk. Her mouth had a habit of saying exactly what she was thinking, and the more time she thought about a subject, the more she’d end up blurting out trivia about herself.

“You warm enough?” he asked.

An innocent question. Small talk. She nodded, refusing to verbalize anything. It would open a floodgate of words that would inspire an entire conversation. And what if she ended up really liking him? How could he think of her as anything but a lunatic after what had happened?

“Sorry, is that an affirmative?”

“Yes.” Keep your cool. Maybe pretend to fall asleep and he won’t ask anything. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the cool glass of the window, trying to see the stars and constellations.

“It’s okay to talk, you know. Why don’t you tell me about why you’re in West Texas.”

Was he just making conversation? Being polite? Or pumping her for information? Did it really matter? “I don’t think I should say anything. You’re treating me like a suspect.”

“Do you feel like a suspect? I thought I was treating you like someone who needed a lift home. I do that. It’s part of my job.”

“I don’t know why I’m being so paranoid.”

“Maybe it has something to do with a dying man falling into your arms in the middle of nowhere or being chased by unknown assailants?” He scratched between his eyebrows for a brief second. He’d done that several times as he’d dipped his chin. “Or maybe it was the guy posing as Homeland Security who attacked you.”

“Yeah.” She laughed for a second, surprising herself. “That might have something to do with it.”

“Pretty good badge, too. Had me fooled, even down to his shoes. Most of ’em forget the shoes.”

She covered her eyes, sliding her hand over her mouth. Small talk, remember the small talk consequences. She did not want to reveal who her father was or who he worked for. His job title was a red flag, warning off guys too frightened to stand near him. Or others would fall into hero worship when the former astronaut showed up. Either of her father’s personas would make her feel like the background, and she’d lose interest in a potential relationship.

“You can rest if you want. Use the blanket I took from the trunk for a pillow. I promise it’s clean.”

Rolling the dark cotton into a cylinder, her brain jump-started as the road veered directly west again. They were getting close to the Viewing Area. She could see warning lights down the road, still miles away, but bright for a clear night on a flat piece of earth. Not anything like what she’d experienced earlier.

“I probably should just keep my mouth shut, but I don’t want to forget this.” She pointed at the hills to the south. “The lights I saw first appeared back that direction. There was something strange about them.”

“People see lights out here all the time.”

“Don’t dismiss me like a tourist.”

“Pardon me, ma’am. I forgot for a minute you were an astrologer.”

“Astronomer, but you already knew that. Trying to insult me?” From him, it didn’t come across as an insult. “Can we stop to get my things, Pete? I think I’m clearheaded enough to have a discussion with your colleagues about what happened. And I’ll never get to sleep if I don’t have my music.”

He tugged at the front of his shirt, shifting behind the wheel. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

So when Pete didn’t want her to know something or he was holding back, he kept a straight face and couldn’t smile. Interesting. He was definitely holding back. She’d seen a lot of guys in uniform in her lifetime and they all stood a little straighter, forcing the confidence to come through as the truth.

“I don’t really want to see Sharon’s car or have that memory with me forever. But isn’t it better than wondering about it for the rest of my life? Which is worse?”

“I can’t answer that, Miss Allen.” He pulled to the shoulder of the road and put the car in Park. “What I can tell you is that nothing was there except the car.”

“You aren’t taking me back to the observatory. Are you?”

“No, ma’am.”

“So you think I murdered that man and wrecked my friend’s car and made up a story about weird chopper lights to cover everything up? He was shot. Did you find a gun? And really, I came into the desert without anything? No cell, no purse, no shovel, no identification whatsoever to get rid of a dead man?” She’d started talking and couldn’t stop. “Granted, if I were getting rid of a dead man, I probably wouldn’t carry my ID. But alone? Get real. And if you knew me at all, no snacks and no water? Well, that just isn’t going to happen.”

“Wow.” He draped his arm over the steering wheel, turning more of his body toward her and smiling once again. “That’s impressive.”

“I have a vivid imagination and think really fast. My dad rubbed off on me. I don’t understand how you can assume that I’m guilty without any proof. There isn’t any proof. Right? I mean, I’m not being framed, am I? Lots of people knew where I’d be tonight.”

“Just hold on a minute.” He straightened the arm closer to her, reaching out to pat her shoulder. “If you can take a breath and slow down to my speed, I can explain what’s going on. To a certain degree.”

She faced forward and shoved her fingers under her legs. Watching his sincerity was clouding her ability to analyze the situation correctly. She’d allowed him to distract her far too long and should have called her parents immediately. She knew that number by heart. “Okay, I’m breathing.”

“You’ve been in protective custody since I got a phone call from the paramedics that there wasn’t a body in the vehicle. No one’s arresting you.”

“But you saw him? I’m not...” She’d been about to say crazy.

He nodded. “I have pictures of a man at the scene matching the description you gave me earlier. Neither of us imagined it.”

“Thank goodness.” The sigh of relief was more than just verbal, it was liberating, and she physically felt lighter. For a moment, she’d doubted if she was experiencing an actual memory. Part of her imagination could have been distorted from the concussion.

Was that a possibility? She had definitely passed out after the accident. Could she have warped what really happened? Should she throw that scenario into the mix? No. She wasn’t paranoid, just overthinking as usual. It was better to wait on the investigation and not doubt herself.

“Look, Miss Allen. Until we know what’s going on, everyone believes it’s better for me to stick close.”

“I can’t do my work just anywhere. Even under protective custody at the observatory would be difficult. Don’t I have to consent or something? And who’s everyone?”

For once, the man with all the answers seemed at a loss for words. It couldn’t be plainer he was choosing his words carefully.

“I’m not trying to scare you, but being new around here you may not know that we’ve had a lot of drugs and guns crossing the border recently. Strange activity involving a helicopter and a disappearing body seems more than a little suspicious. It’s better to be safe.”

“And better to keep me close while you verify that I don’t have anything to do with it.”

“Hmm, there is that.”

He grinned again, and she realized that there wasn’t anything calculating about it. He seemed to be a good-looking, concerned officer who took his job very seriously to help her feel safe and at ease. Correction, he was absolutely terrific-looking and naturally charming. And off-limits?

Pete Morrison should be off-limits. She was completing her study and then getting a job halfway around the world. No reason to get involved. It wasn’t logical. She didn’t have time for a relationship.

Satisfied he was there to help and she needed to curb her attraction, she slapped her thighs, ready to cooperate. “I have a passport to verify who I am. It’s at the observatory housing where I’m staying until I get my telescope time. I’m only here for three weeks.”

He put the truck in motion. “So it was just coincidence that you were at the Viewing Area looking for the lights? Tourist or PhD work?”

“Filling in for a student. It’s an ongoing study by UT. That’s why I was driving her car. I hope her insurance covers accident by strange helicopter. She’s going to kill me.”

“No comment. I don’t let people borrow my truck.” He put the patrol car in Drive. “Not even my dad.”

The circular building where tourists stopped to watch for the Marfa Lights phenomenon passed by amid several parked vehicles, including another squad car identical to the one she was inside. The radio squawked, and Pete lifted the hand microphone to his lips. It certainly was easy to think of the man by his first name.

“Yeah, Dad?”

“And what if it hadn’t been me?” answered a gruff voice through the static.

“It’s always you.” Pete laughed after he’d released the talk button and couldn’t be heard. “Remember that I have a ride-along.”

“I ain’t that old, buster Pete. Not much new here, but DHS wants you to meet them at the station with the witness.”

“Headed there now. Out.”

He stowed the microphone, and she waited for an explanation, but waiting wasn’t really her thing. She was more of a straight-to-the-point, fixer type of person and yet she really didn’t want to explain right now.

“Real DHS?” she asked, gulping at the potential conversation she’d be forced to have soon.

“The Department of Homeland Security. Looks like our missing body rang some official bells.”

“Dang it.” Are they here for a missing body or because of my involvement? It didn’t take much to come to the conclusion it was about her. “Did they mention why they want to talk to me?”

“They probably need your statement. This is a good thing. They’ll move the investigation forward a lot faster. You should be glad. We’ll be out of your hair that much sooner.”

Her instinct and her luck shouted differently.

“Not likely. Why is this happening now? Oh, I know you mentioned the guns and drugs and border thing. But I’m so close to finishing this dissertation. Shoot.”

They entered Marfa and turned north toward the county jail. Pete let his department dispatch know they were on their way in.

“Did they say who would be coming here?” she asked.

“You know someone at Homeland Security?”

Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to explain herself. She’d give her interview, they’d say everything was a huge mistake, no one’s actually trying to kill you and she could return to finish her short time in the Davis Mountains. “I’d rather not get into it.”

“Andrea, you’re the one who brought it up.”

“And I’m the one who’s not going to talk about it.” Not unless I really, really have to.

Chapter Five

Close to nine in the morning, an official government vehicle pulled in front of the Presidio County Sheriff’s Department. One uniformed man got out. Navy, lots of rank. He openly assessed the street, then spent several minutes checking his phone.

Pete watched everything, but his main focus was Andrea. Her posture changed. She looked defeated. After she’d said she didn’t want to discuss the DHS, she didn’t discuss anything. Gone was the chatty, confident woman who spoke her mind. Now she was withdrawn, closed off, silent, and stood with her hands wrapped around her waist.

The officer acknowledged Pete, but his eyes had connected with Andrea and he wasn’t looking anywhere else.

“Commander,” Andrea said on a long, exasperated sigh and led the way to his dad’s office. She clearly didn’t want the DHS representative to be the man who’d walked into the sheriff’s office.

“Andrea,” the DHS expert acknowledged with a similar annoyed exhale. He shut the door behind him, leaving only silhouettes against the opaque window—letting Pete know they were on opposite sides of the small room.

Interesting. His witness recognized military rank and the DHS officer seemed to know her. She’d been tight-lipped since they arrived at the station. Either pretending to be asleep on his cot in the back or flat out refusing to answer any questions.

“Do you want something to eat, Pete?” Honey asked.

The shift change had occurred at eight o’clock sharp, just like every normal day. Peach and Honey insisted on working seven days a week, knowing his dad would let them off anytime they wanted. They liked staying busy, but they liked staying out of each other’s hair more. They’d each confided in him—and probably everyone else in town—that it was the only reason they continued to live in the same house.

“No, thanks, Honey. I thought I’d take Miss Allen to the café when she’s done.”

“Are you sure she’s not going to be whisked away by aliens or a secret government agency?” The older woman laughed, making fun of several theories Peach had shared before leaving. “The sheriff is hung up at the scene for at least another hour, Pete. He wanted me to let you know.”

He could guess why his father hadn’t spoken to him directly. Most likely to keep his cool at the lack of cooperation. “He still fighting for information?”

“I can only assume so,” Honey said, picking up her pen. “You know those government types. They never let us in on the fun.”

“You adding this to your novel?” he asked, and was ignored since she was already engrossed in writing her sentence.

Peach came up with the stories and Honey was the aspiring writer who wrote them down. They’d kept the local women busy debating the realism of their tales for several years. It was obvious even to strangers that they were best friends who happened to be sisters.

A yawn escaped him. It was the first double shift he’d completed without a wink of shut-eye in a long while. But he couldn’t head back to the ranch until DHS instructed them on what was to happen with Andrea. His dad would be at the scene awhile. That left him with nothing to do but catch up on paperwork and wait for their guests to finish. He’d be lucky if he could go home afterward.

“Since things are covered at the moment, I’m going to grab a quick shower in the back and wake up. Alert me if they,” he said, hooking his thumb toward his dad’s closed office door, “finish up.”

“I have a feeling they’re going to be there awhile,” Honey said. “Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that he’s here to interview a witness and didn’t even introduce himself?”

“I suppose you have a point. I’m not certain what protocol is for something like this. We normally don’t share murder jurisdiction with anyone.”

“You certain there’s not going to be another murder soon?”

Voices were definitely rising on the other side of the window, but the old building had walls thick enough that he couldn’t distinguish the words. Should he step inside and allow them to cool off? If he was closer, maybe he could understand what the argument was about.

“Do you think you should join them and referee?” Honey asked.

Pete took definite steps toward the arguing and stopped. It only took those three steps to realize he’d been waiting on encouragement from Honey so he could barge in and rescue Andrea again.

Son of a gun.

He was more interested in this fascinating woman than the murder and the disappearing body. He pivoted and headed into the back.

“Ten minutes. That’s all I need for a shower.”

“I could eavesdrop?”

“Get back to your writing, Honey.”

“Yes, sir.”

The door slamming had nothing to do with his actions. They’d been meaning to fix the mechanism that slowed the heavy door from crashing shut. He hadn’t thought about it until the loud crash echoed in the concrete hallway. He threw his stuff into the locker and jumped under an icy spray, not giving the water time to warm.

Holding cells and the jail were on a different floor. He needed to put some effort into this case. His thoughts were centered more on Andrea’s relationship with Homeland Security than getting his notes together for the investigation or why someone would steal the body of a dead man.

He’d offered to try to identify the missing man but had been specifically instructed not to even print pictures from the camera. Normally, he hated being shut out and treated like a wet-behind-the-ears rookie. Today, it had hardly crossed his mind. But it had, and soon after, he’d copied the pictures to a memory stick and stuck it in his pocket.

On the flip side, he couldn’t stop thinking about Andrea Allen. He had no reason to book her and no criminal record he could find. DHS had just asked her to be held until they arrived.

Who was she? Where was she going after the observatory? What was her life like? Where had she been? How had she gotten that jagged old scar under her chin and the small one just above her collarbone?

Three weeks wasn’t a long time to get the answers. Might be even less time. She’d mentioned three weeks total but had never mentioned how long she’d been here.

Pete toweled off and stuck his legs in his pants as quickly as a surprised rattler about to strike. He wasn’t about to miss the opportunity to speak with the officer when he left. He considered shaving, but it would take too much time.

Looking in the mirror one last time, he shoved his hair straight back and caught movement behind him. His weapon was still secure in his locker, so he spun, ready for—

“Andrea? How’d you get back here? I didn’t hear the door.”

“Some of us know how to close one without slamming it. They probably heard you come through it on Proxima Centauri.”

“Prox what?” He leaned against the sink, crossing his arms and just enjoying how she could look so dang sexy even in teddy bear scrubs. The meek, insecure side of the woman he’d been admiring was gone. Spunky, speak-your-mind PhD candidate was approaching him one sure step at a time.

“It’s the nearest star to earth, with the exception of our sun, of course. But it’s not my favorite.”

“The sun? I’m sort of fond of it.”

“As I can see by your tan. No, Proxima Centauri. It’s such a stuffy name.”

She halted within arm’s distance. A dangerous distance. Close enough to see his attraction reflected in her soft blue eyes. The desire to put a hand on each of her hips and draw her to him was tremendous. He had to clear his throat to think of something other than the pink lacy bra he’d seen earlier.

“I should go speak with the DHS officer.” He took a step to move past her and ended with a slender hand on his chest.

“The Commander’s gone to the scene. He said to stay put until he returned. Looks like you’re stuck with me, Sheriff Morrison.”

“Acting sheriff. Why don’t you call me Pete.” Was he insulted? Or too dang excited he didn’t need to dart off to talk shop? Excited.

“I need to show you something.”

“I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

She threw back her head, laughing. He barely heard it as he admired the bend of her neck. “Silly. Do you have any gel?”

“Huh?” Silly wasn’t the word filtering through his mind.

“Styling gel.”

“I used it already.”

“Not enough to do anything.” She reached around him, brushing his arm as she squeezed goo into her hands.

Stunned into silence? Choking on his words? Cat got his tongue? He didn’t know which, and if she asked, he couldn’t hear her. He was focused on her hands rubbing together and then her arms lifting to reach his head.

“Get shorter.” She tapped the inside of his bare feet wider apart, leaving enough room between them to breathe without touching.

“So, what is your favorite star?” he asked, closing his eyes and enjoying her fingers lightly massaging his scalp as she liberally put gel on every strand. He couldn’t look.

“Wolf 359. Isn’t that an awesome name for a star?” She took the tube a second time. “Just a bit more. Your hair’s really thick and wavy.”

He was dang lucky he’d put his pants on quickly. If he hadn’t...

“See?”

All he could see was the roundness of each breast under the thin layer of hospital garb.

“All you have to do is squeeze some on your hands and rub it around like this. Then it should stay looking deliberately messed up all day.” She wiped her hands on his towel and admired her handiwork. “That will look much better later when it’s dry.”

She twisted one last piece of hair and placed her hands on his shoulders. It seemed like the most natural gesture in his memory for his fingers to move and span either side of her waist. Drawing her closer to him was just as easy.

They were forehead to forehead. Her slow, warm exhale smelled sweet like the cola she’d insisted on before the officer had arrived. She’d called it her wake-up drink of choice. He, on the other hand, loved coffee and lots of it.

Concentrate on the job. What job? All he had to do was hang around here, keep her in sight till she was someone else’s problem. Maybe even escort her home.

“I’m not a rule breaker, Andrea.”

“Then why are your hands still around me?”

Kissing her was destined as soon as she’d told him they’d never get along. “What’s about to happen probably shouldn’t. But you won’t find me apologizing for it later.”

“You better not, Pete. Bad first kissers don’t get a second chance.”

He liked her. A lot. Too much. Too fast.

He leaned his lips to touch hers for the first time. Soft and wet, they parted just enough to encourage him. His hands spread up her back, noticing the firm muscles.

There wasn’t anything between them now except a thin layer of cotton. He stopped himself from getting the shirt out of his way. This was their first kiss but sure didn’t feel like it.

Their lips slid together, teasing, seeming to know their way without conscious effort. A perfect fit? Practiced. Confident.

He wanted his hands to wander but forced them to stay put. Andrea’s arms encircled his neck, shifting her body next to his. Her tennis shoes snuggled next to his size-thirteen feet. That one layer kept him both sane and drove him crazy at the same time.

He wanted it off. Wanted her bare skin under his flesh. Wanted to forget exactly where they were and remember everything much too late.

The attraction turned to mutual pure hunger and he liked her even more.

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