“Did I do what you expected?”

“You did what I hoped.” Penny glanced at Kadin, not having to explain that he’d melted into the kiss right along with her.

“What did you mean by what you said?”

That he didn’t have to worry? That she wasn’t the settling-down type? “Exactly what it sounded like.”

“I wasn’t hitting on you,” he said.

Was he worried he’d somehow encouraged her?

“No, silly, I hit on you. And it worked.” She smiled.

“Penny… I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

So professional. She bet he hung on to that like a badge, his ready defense whenever a woman got too close.

“I don’t have the wrong idea. You kissed me back.” Oh, God, was she really doing this? Flirting with fire? This wasn’t ordinary flirting. This was war. She stopped and made him face her. “Look, whatever happens, happens. There are no rules when you’re with me.””

* * *

Be sure to check out the next books in this series.

Cold Case Detectives: Powerful investigations, unexpected passion.

A Wanted Man

Jennifer Morey

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Two-time RITA® Award nominee and Golden Quill Award winner JENNIFER MOREY writes single-title contemporary romance and page-turning romantic suspense. She has a geology degree and has managed export programs in compliance with the International Traffic in Arms Regulations (ITAR) for the aerospace industry. She lives at the feet of the Rocky Mountains in Denver, Colorado, and loves to hear from readers through her website, www.jennifermorey.com, or Facebook.

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For Mom,

who loved a good murder mystery.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

Penny Darden saw the old, rickety barn through the arch of tree branches and cold nostalgia gripped her. She stopped walking. Tall wildflowers swayed down the center of the curving one-lane dirt road. Beautiful. Picturesque. But full of a secret past.

Growing up on a Midwestern farm, Penny hadn’t escaped fast enough to city life. Metropolitan bike paths and noisy, multilane highways were her thing now. The barn, with its lonely mystery of fading red paint and old, splintering fences, tapped into the girl who’d loved to explore wild, rolling hills and abandoned buildings. She’d long ago left that life—and the girl—behind.

Resuming her walk, she emerged from the trees and spotted a Colonial-style house that stood just as neglected as the barn, door and windows boarded up, just like the farmhouse of her childhood. After her mother sold the place, it had gone to disrepair. She hadn’t understood how lonely her childhood had been until her senior year in high school. That realization had driven her away from Midwestern life.

Jax hadn’t told her there were historic buildings on his property. Maybe half the source of her unwanted curiosity stemmed from that. Her boyfriend had said the only difference between his second home in this remote area of the Wasatch Mountains and his upscale apartment in Salt Lake City was the view. How wrong he’d been.

Reaching the double doors of the weathered barn, she lifted the heavy, awkward latch securing one of the doors and pushed.

Dust particles drifted through the newly disturbed air, sparkling in sunlight. The smell of old hay took her back in time. Old everything. Old wood. Old leather. Old hides. She used to love playing in hay, getting dirty all day and fighting her mother when told to take a shower.

A white pickup truck parked at the far end stopped her short. Partially hidden by stacked hay, it seemed so out of place. She walked to the clean, new vehicle and saw a dent in the driver’s-side door. Peering through the window, she noticed nothing odd except newness and cleanliness. Immaculate cleanliness. She tried the door handle. Locked.

What was a nice truck doing in an old barn like this? Had the previous owner left it? That didn’t seem likely. Why leave a vehicle that was worth something? Maybe the engine blew up. Walking to the front, she saw no plate. Nothing on the back, either. Someone had just dumped it here.

While that struck her as unusual, Penny supposed there must be an explanation. As she turned away, a tack room drew her back to her childhood again. She and her best friend had ridden horses almost every weekend. She fingered an old bridle and then brushed off the dirt that transferred to her skin. Some tools and a few other pieces of tack, all worn with age, kept her in the past until she caught sight of the truck again.

Who were the previous owners? Why had they sold? Had the homestead gone to shambles after the sale or had something happened to force them to leave? She didn’t know how long Jax had owned the place.

Penny walked outside, seeing just a portion of the truck before latching the door. She looked toward the boarded-up house and let another wave of lonely nostalgia sweep her before hiking back up the hill.

Her mother had sold their farm when Penny started college and she moved to an old house in town. Cheboygan. Thinking of her mom only intensified the loneliness that pressed into her.

When had she last seen her mother? Christmas? They hadn’t talked in a while. Penny had gotten so busy with her job, she’d even ignored her mother’s calls. She missed her, of course she missed her. She loved the difference between her life here and her mother’s back in that sleepy northern Michigan town.

At the top of the hill, she followed the dirt road along a white fence, feeling better now that she was out in the open with swaying wildflowers keeping her company. Still, the ties of her past tugged. Birds chirped and a mosquito buzzed in front of her face. She swatted that away, her trip to childhood vanishing. Time to go back to the city.

Reaching the end of the dirt road, she turned onto Jax’s paved driveway. His house came into view and she saw him standing on the porch, holding a cup of coffee. He looked much different in jeans and a flannel shirt than the pricey suits she usually saw him in at work. His close-cropped dark hair fit the businessman more than the mountain man. In fact, he didn’t strike her as a mountain man at all. His log home was modern, not rugged. His polish and sophistication and social appetite had attracted her when she’d first met him.

She smiled as she neared. “What a beautiful place.”

He didn’t return her smile. In fact, his reaction seemed off.

“Where have you been?” he asked with forced amenability.

She stepped up onto the porch, wary of his stiff demeanor, the affront in his keen brown eyes. Did he feel she’d taken liberties by exploring without him inviting her? How ridiculous. Why would he mind?

“I walk every morning,” she said.

“Why’d you go that way?” he asked, pointing in irritation. “There’s a path through the woods out back for hiking.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t noticed. “I saw the dirt road that skirts the edge of your property.” She turned to indicate the direction of the road. “You didn’t give me a tour, so... I hope you don’t mind.”

He smiled in a way that was more calculated than genuine. “My bad.”

Did that mean he did mind? Uncomfortable, she went inside. Walking through the mudroom, she went into the living room, catching sight of a digital photo frame cycling through thousands of pictures he had of him and his son. One passed of them in the mountains at a cabin, different than this one, which suggested they’d gone somewhere on a trip. It gave her something to look at other than him.

Jax followed her into the kitchen. “What did you find on your walk?”

Why was he so tense? And what did he think she’d find? That truck? She began to feel a need to get away from here, and then chided herself for overreacting.

Taking out a bottle of water, she let the refrigerator door close. “An old barn.”

He moved toward her, stopping a couple of feet from her. “Did you go inside? That building is pretty old. It isn’t safe.”

“No,” she lied, twisting the cap off the plastic bottle and taking a drink. “I saw the house boarded up and decided it’d be better to have company to go exploring.” She felt him assess her.

“I had it boarded up when I bought the property,” he said, seeming to relax a little. “The house needs too many repairs.”

“Is that why you built this one? How long ago was that?” she asked.

“A little over a year.”

The truck didn’t look as though it had been in the barn that long. Had Jax parked it there?

“I was going to make you breakfast in bed,” she said, trying to keep things light. “How about we have it out on your back patio instead?”

After several seconds, he murmured, “Sure. Next time you feel like exploring, take me with you, okay?” His dark eyes warned rather than showed concern. “It’s dangerous out there alone.”

Dangerous in what way? “I’m not a kid,” she said with a fake smile.

“I’m talking about the wildlife. And an abandoned house invites other predators.”

What did he mean by other predators? Him? Was he delivering a subtle threat? Maybe he didn’t trust that she hadn’t at least peeked into the barn. She began to feel as though she should make an excuse and leave. She’d never seen this side of him and, frankly, didn’t like it.

Not a woman to give in to fear, however, she met his calculating gaze without looking away. He was the first to break the tense moment. Grinning like the Jax she’d first met in a meeting at work, he pecked a kiss on her mouth.

“Breakfast in bed would have been nice,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

He seemed like himself again, but his reaction to her exploration lingered. She watched him go to the table and sit before his computer. When he lifted the top, she went about preparing a simple breakfast.

The television went to a news program just as the bacon was ready and the eggs were in a pan. Jax must have turned the TV on when he woke, something he did every morning to catch the weather segment. Right now he typed away on his laptop, working and oblivious to what was being said.

Not Penny.

“Police are asking for anyone to come forward with any information in Sara Wolfe’s murder investigation. The eleven-year-old girl disappeared last month on her way home from school. Her body was found last week along the banks of a remote area of Cottonwood Creek,” the female anchorwoman said sadly.

While the woman went on to recap all that the police knew of the kidnapping, Penny went cold and still as she listened to the reporter say that a witness claimed to have seen a white pickup truck around the time school had been let out and the girl would have been walking home. The driver had stopped along the side of the road to talk to a young girl who fit Sara’s description. The witness hadn’t seen the girl’s abduction, but had noticed a dent on the driver’s-side door.

White truck.

Dent on the side.

Was it possible?

She jumped as Jax appeared next to her.

Just as she smelled something burning, he said, “The eggs.”

She faced the stove and pushed the smoking eggs off the burner. They were ruined.

“Something wrong?” Jax asked.

Maybe. Is that truck in the barn yours?

She glanced over at him. “That girl. The missing girl in the news?” She watched him perk up—in a suspicious way. “What happened to her is disturbing.”

“You’ve been following that story?”

She hoped he couldn’t see her pulse throbbing through the artery in her neck. Already she had to steady her breathing. He frightened her. No, her intuition frightened her. She could stand up to fear when it didn’t involve murder.

“Yes. Haven’t you?”

“No, not really.”

Penny furrowed her brow in confusion. Jax watched the news every morning. Hadn’t the story of a young girl’s disappearance and murder touched him? What kind of person wouldn’t be affected by such a tragedy?

“What do you say we go into town for breakfast?” he suggested.

“All right.” And then she’d head home. He really did scare her right now. His aloofness. His insensitivity to the Sara Wolfe murder. His odd demeanor.

He slipped his arms loosely around her waist. “Then we can come back and do some more exploring.”

Would he take her to the barn and the boarded up house? She highly doubted that, given his suspicious behavior.

Hoping to pull off an act, she patted his chest. “Actually this morning I remembered something I need to do for another project that’s due Monday. I need to get home and work on it.”

Back came his distrust. “You can do that tomorrow.”

She shook her head. “I need tonight and tomorrow.”

“Then you can work here. I’ll leave you alone.” He grinned. “Until tonight, that is. Quinten is going back home soon. You and I can have a romantic dinner together this evening.”

They hadn’t been dating all that long. Just a couple of weeks. She’d had reservations about going to his mountain house. Only his announcement that his son would join them had made her agree, that and his promise that she’d have her own room. Finding out Quinten would leave this morning sealed her decision to go home.

“Haven’t I been a perfect gentleman?” he asked, seeing her hesitation.

“Yes.” He had. But that no longer mattered.

“Then stay. I invited you here to meet my son and spend some time getting to know each other outside work.”

That might have appealed to her prior to making the connection between the truck in the barn and the missing girl. Now she just needed to get away.

“Last night was lovely. Your home is lovely. But my boss has been breathing down my neck lately. I have to get this job done on time.” She thought she sounded sincere.

“What’s he going to do? Fire you?” He smiled crookedly, falling for her pretense. “You’re his best ad executive. My brother will vouch for that.”

As CEO of Ballard’s Sporting Goods, Jax’s brother, Dane, did have significant influence. Jax, too, as president. Penny had met her boyfriend when she pitched her idea for their ad campaign. Handsome and driven, he’d attracted her from the start. She, apparently, had caught his eye for the same reason. They had a lot in common. He’d been the one to tell her Ballard’s would hire Avenue One to do their advertising, a huge boost to her career.

Moving back, she eased out of his arms. “Ever since I delivered that Super Bowl ad, Dane’s expectations have been grandiose.”

“My brother counts on you, for good reason.” He brushed his finger down her nose.

Disliking the affectionate touch, she stepped back.

“Sorry, I just love your nose with those big, sexy green eyes of yours.” He chuckled. “I didn’t mean to treat you like a kid.”

A sick feeling plunged in her stomach. Why had he used the word kid?

Tucking her shoulder-length reddish-brown hair behind her ear, she said, “I’m going to go get ready.” Penny turned to head for the stairs.

“I’ll let you leave on one condition.”

Let her leave? Putting her hand on the railing, she looked back and couldn’t tell if he was joking.

“I get to come over Tuesday night and cook you dinner. Mondays are always a train wreck for me.”

She nodded even though she didn’t feel like it. “Deal.”

That seemed to placate him, to put to rest any concern that whatever Penny had discovered hadn’t spooked her away.

Going up the stairs, she ran into Quinten on the first landing, Jax’s six-foot tall, eighteen-year-old son. Quinten’s mother, only a teenager herself when he was born, had left him with Jax when she was fifteen. Jax had devoted his life to the boy and it showed. Quinten had grown into a well-mannered young man with aspirations to go far in college. She’d loved their conversation at dinner.

“Morning, Penny,” Quinten said with a sleepy smile livening his hazel eyes. He looked a lot like his father, except younger, of course, and with wilder hair.

She smiled back at him. “Morning.”

“My dad down here giving you a hard time?”

She laughed. “Not any more than I give him.”

He passed her on the way down. “He likes you.”

Not responding to that with anything more than an amicable look, she climbed the rest of the way up the stairs. She felt a bit of a kinship to the boy, growing up in a single-parent household like him. When she’d asked if he wanted to find his mother, he said no. She’d seen the love Jax had for him and it reminded her of how her mother loved her.

Would a man who’d raised a son like Quinten be capable of harming young girls? It didn’t seem likely. There had to be some explanation.

* * *

Breakfast passed without incident, with Jax being his old self and not that weird, suspicious man who’d confronted her after her walk. But the time had passed painfully slowly and she couldn’t be happier to be—finally—home. Dumping her purse on the table in the wide, wood-floored entry, she sighed, feeling tension leave her shoulders. Her airy apartment with views from every room welcomed her. She took in the sunny city scene through the big windows along the far wall of her living room, metal and glass sparkling.

After removing her shoes, she passed stainless-steel appliances and gray schist granite countertops of her kitchen and padded down the hall to her office. Bright green, white and gold accents made this her favorite room. She was her most creative here. But creativity wasn’t on the agenda for today. Truth was, she had no other work project going on as she’d led Jax to believe. Sitting down at her white desk, she started up the computer and began her research.

Reading about the eleven-year-old girl disturbed her. An adorable, blue-eyed, blond-haired angel, Sara Wolfe had a big smile, and innocence radiated off her in the photos Penny found. Active in sports, she played the piano and had joined theater. She came from average parents who lived in a clean suburban home in the Sugar House area, a normal little girl who had a lot going for her until she’d been robbed of her bright, promising future.

Penny had never aspired to be a mother, but she didn’t have to wonder what they must have gone through—were still going through. The police had only one lead, the one they’d received from a witness who’d seen the white pickup truck. The killer had so far gotten away with his horrible crime.

Tipping her head back, Penny closed her eyes as she contemplated what to do. Tell the police. Yes, she wasn’t trying to talk herself out of going to the cops. That had to be done. She had to do the right thing. But could she find a diplomatic way of going about this? Could she find a quiet way of finding out if the truck belonged to Jax and whether he’d used it to abduct an eleven-year-old girl? He was her boyfriend, after all. She liked him—except for this morning after her walk. Before she accused him of such a horrendous crime, she had to be more certain. What if he hadn’t done it?

Lowering her head, she stared at the last article she’d read online. The parents had contacted a private detective to help them find their daughter’s killer. The man had said he’d consider their request. Why had they asked this particular man?

Kadin Tandy.

She did a search on his name and found an article.

Will Renowned Victim Rights Activist Join Sara Wolfe’s Murder Investigation?

Intrigue made her click on the link and peruse the article. Sara’s parents had reached out to a man who’d gained noteworthiness after single-handedly solving his own daughter’s kidnapping and murder case. After the sick pedophile had been thrown into prison, Kadin quit his impressive job with New York City’s Cold Case Squad within the Fugitive Enforcement Division to start up his own private detective agency. As Penny read, she became certain the man was more of a vigilante than a law enforcement officer.

She found a photo of him half-sitting on the tailgate of a pickup truck parked at the threshold of a dark alley. In jeans and a short-sleeved dark blue T-shirt with a logo on the upper left side, he posed with one leg planted on the ground. A cowboy hat shaded his eyes, but the camera had captured their stunning and unflinching gray intensity. Unruly black hair stuck out under the rim of the hat. A boldly displayed shoulder harness held two guns, one on each side.

She sat transfixed by the picture, by the man. Powerful. Highly intelligent. Dangerous good looks. Those impressions and more drew her in.

Penny read on to learn that his wife had died of a drug overdose not long after their daughter’s body was discovered. She’d apparently been unable to survive the loss of their little girl. A few months later, after Kadin had tracked down the killer, he’d opened Dark Alley Investigations in Rock Springs, Wyoming. His daughter had been kidnapped and killed in New York. Was the choice to move to Rock Springs because of that? To try and escape his unbearable pain? Kadin had lost his wife and child. His family. That kind of tragedy would forever change a man. Did anyone ever recover from something so awful? Kadin had focused his energy on private investigations of violent crimes. Each case must be a battle to avenge his daughter.

She looked at the photo again, a sentinel in a dark alley. The imagery evoked a blatant declaration to go where most would never dare. And do whatever it took to bring perpetrators of violent crimes to justice. He needed no advertising. The media had done that for him.

He hadn’t yet agreed to help with the Wolfe case, stating only that he’d look at the file. Kadin was probably a busy man with the reputation he had. Or would Sara Wolfe’s case be his first since his little girl was killed? Penny could well imagine how difficult an investigation like that would be on a father who’d lost his daughter to a pedophile.

Still, she couldn’t believe he’d turn his back on the Sara Wolfe case, not with his past. Maybe Penny could sway him. She could go to him before going to the police. He could help her find out more about the truck. But just a description of what she saw wouldn’t be enough. She needed more. Proof.

* * *

Penny waited until later that night to drive back to Park City. The winding road leading to Jax’s house was a lot eerier than the first time she’d been here. When she reached his long, dirt driveway, she turned off her headlights and drove straight onto the one-lane, rutted road with flowering weeds growing down the center. Making her way under moonlight, she reached a clearing and spotted the house and barn.

Stopping in front of the barn, she retrieved a small flashlight she always kept in her car and got out. Closing the door, she put on a pair of leather gloves and looked around. Moonlight cast shadows where the meadow met the thick line of trees. Anyone could lurk within the trunks. If Jax had seen her drive by, would he follow her here? She wasn’t even sure he was still at the cabin. Most likely, he’d stayed in Salt Lake City for the workweek. She was being paranoid, and perhaps for good reason.

Her boots crunched over the dry gravel and she heard a stream running about a hundred yards down the hill. The white paint on the house was peeling, the trim warping and falling off. The boards over the door and windows gave it a haunting look. A big cottonwood tree shaded half of it from moonlight.

At the barn doors, she lifted the wood bar and pushed one side open. It creaked and gravity took it swinging against the side of the barn with a bang. Something scurried inside the barn and a bird squawked as though startled from sleep. She heard it fly away but didn’t see it. Checking the road, seeing no headlights or hearing anything, Penny went inside the barn. It was pitch-black in there. She flipped on the flashlight.

The truck was still there.

Jax must have believed her when she’d said she hadn’t gone inside. She berated herself for jumping to conclusions. He might not be guilty, after all.

Searching the barn, she spotted the tack and went there to find something to break a window out of the truck. She found a rusting metal rake and carried it over to the passenger’s-side window. Swinging hard, she bashed in the glass, spraying the seat. She reached in and unlocked the door manually, and then opened the glove box. It was completely empty. Weird. She looked under seats and in the middle console. Nothing. It was as though someone had thoroughly cleaned it before stowing it here.

Getting out of the truck, she began taking pictures with her smartphone. She took several shots of the dent and made sure she got the serial number in the dash and then tucked her phone back into her front pocket. She hurried from the barn, looking around before she closed the door and hooked the latch. Turning, she searched the treeline and road. A flash of light caught her eye. Someone walked through the trees with a flashlight. She could make out his shadowy form coming to a stop at the edge of the clearing.

Walking briskly, she saw the flashlight go dark. Had Jax walked through the woods? Impossible. He hadn’t returned. Or had he...? Maybe he’d anticipated she’d come here, or at least been suspicious. Or was it Jax at all?

Back in her car, she spun her car around and raced down the narrow dirt road. As she came to Jax’s driveway, she saw no movement around the log house and only a few lights were on.

She made it to the highway and almost felt in the clear when she noticed a car behind her. Had whoever had the flashlight followed her? She sped up, passing a few cars and weaving back into the right lane. The car behind her did the same thing.

Penny slowed down. The car slowed down as well and allowed more distance to separate them.

All the way to Salt Lake City, Penny kept track of the other car, a dark Jeep Wrangler she didn’t recognize. Rather than drive home and lead a potential killer to her residence, Penny headed to the Salt Lake City Police Department. When she parked in front, she watched the Jeep zip by, darkness and tinted windows preventing her from seeing the driver.

Chapter 2

The short, bubbly applicant had an exhausting, fast-talking, high-pitched voice. Kadin Tandy looked past her curly hair and heavily made up face, her voice drifting off into white noise as he looked through the window of his Rock Springs, Wyoming, office. He could see part of the street and some of the oldest buildings in town, red-and-tan brick trimmed in varying colors, rooflines square and some with signs that lit up at night. Heat waves rippled on the pavement and Rosa Romero unlocked the door of her Mexican restaurant, The Spicy Habanero. Her green chili was the best he’d ever had.

Having his office here made him feel at home—as at home as he could, anyway. He’d rented the upstairs apartment so that he could spend more time working. Dark Alley Investigations had been open a couple of months now and he’d accumulated enough cases to warrant some help. And then he’d received that call from Detective Austin Cohen, the lead in the Sara Wolfe case. He’d attempted to read the file before the applicant arrived but hadn’t gotten past the first paragraph. The little girl might as well be his own.

Would he have this kind of trouble with every child case? He felt like a useless coward for reacting the way he did. He could help those parents. Why didn’t he? Why couldn’t he? Why did he even have to think about it?

Because he’d seen the file detectives had put together on his daughter’s case.

Because he’d tortured himself with those images until he captured her killer.

Because the pain had not lessened in three years.

He still ached with loss, still yearned for the impossible, to see and hold his little girl again, to go back to the time before her abduction and be ready to miraculously save her. Daddy to the rescue.

Except it hadn’t happened that way.

“Mr. Tandy?”

Kadin jerked his gaze from the window to the applicant.

“Is there anything else you’d like to ask me?”

The woman had to know he’d wandered off somewhere far away from this interview. “No. Thank you for coming by.” He stood, needing to get rid of her, to be alone so that he could get thoughts of Annabelle out of his head. “I’ll call you if I need to talk to you again.”

The woman looked disappointed. People knew when they were being rejected. “Oh. Okay.” She stood up. “Thank you.”

He walked the woman to the door and as he watched her go to her car, he spotted Lott Trumbauer getting out of his blue Jaguar. A trust-fund baby who was a fishing guide, Lott spent a lot of time on the banks of the Green River. That was how they’d met. Kadin had gone fishing and had run into Lott with a family, teaching them how to fish. They’d struck up a friendship. That was fifteen years ago.

“Great,” he muttered. Just what he needed. More badgering. Lott had been talking to Kadin’s mom about the shocking news of his resignation and move back to Rock Springs.

He went to his corner office next to the conference room where he’d just conducted the interview. He had a view of a side street from here. That was where he stood until he heard Lott enter. Then he turned as his friend’s booted feet creaked over the old wood floor and he stopped at the office door with a smile.

“Nice,” Lott said. A tall, charming jet-setter with bright blue eyes and dark brown hair cut short, he wasn’t married but always had a girlfriend. They never lasted more than a few months. Kadin had attracted women like that before he married his one and only love. Maybe he still did now that he was single again and just didn’t notice. Lack of interest did that. He had too much to do, anyway.

“What brings you to town?” Kadin asked.

His pal stepped into the office, checking out the barren walls. “How’s business?”

The diversion tactic told him enough. Lott had come to talk unpleasant things. “I’ve got three cases.”

“All cold?”

“Cold enough.”

Lott stopped at his desk. “I saw a girl leave here in tears. Are you interviewing again?”

“She was crying?”

“You have a way of doing that. I can’t figure out if all your murder investigations have desensitized you, or if you’ve just installed a switch to shut off your emotions.” He gestured with his hand toward the bare walls. “Are you ever going to decorate this place?”

Kadin grimaced. He cared about how he made people feel, and truly hadn’t meant to hurt the girl. It was an interview, for God’s sake, not the budding of a new romance. As for decorating, he’d only furnished one conference room and his office. “I haven’t had time to do more.”

“You could make time.”

“Why are you here, Lott? Talking to my parents again?”

His friend grinned but not with genuine humor. He was caught. “Your mother is worried about you. She called again.” Kadin blinked and turned toward the view. A man walked by in the afternoon, late-summer heat, a dry heat in this western town.

“I’ll call her.”

“She asked me to check in on you. I don’t think they understand why you moved back here.”

His parents had wanted him to stay out East. He’d grown up in Massachusetts.

“I lived here for ten years.”

Lott nodded. “That’s what I told her. She thinks you’re obsessing over their deaths.”

“And that by moving here I don’t put it behind me?” Kadin looked back at his friend, who cocked his head in a yeah-I-know gesture. “There are some things I don’t want to forget. And that’s everything I had when we lived here. Them. Before...”

“I get it, Kadin. You should call your mom and tell her. Then maybe she’ll stop using me as a messenger.”

Lott was like a second son to his parents. They had been around a lot more than Lott’s had. In some ways, Kadin thought his pal had learned how to live from them, and his healthy attitude about money was one indicator. He didn’t take it for granted and he valued being productive.

“Sorry you had to come all this way,” Kadin said.

Lott stared at him, somber. “It’s okay to be different after what happened to you, Kadin. All the people close to you want is for you to heal. Start a new life. Not forget them, just...move on.”

Kadin just nodded, waiting for him to stop.

After a bit, Lott grinned. “I didn’t just come to give you another lecture. I’m going down to the Green River to do some fishing.”

Lott had frequently come to visit him and his wife and daughter on that excuse. He hadn’t just come to see them, he’d come to fish. But Kadin wasn’t fooled. His mother wasn’t the one who’d put him up to this visit. He’d been talking to his parents ever since Arielle had overdosed, checking in without Kadin knowing.

“Okay.”

“So.” Lott perched on the corner of his desk. “Business is good, huh? How is it that you already got some cases?”

Kadin moved to stand before him. “They called.”

“You’ve gotten a lot of media coverage.”

Kadin recognized the congratulations. His daughter’s disappearance and murder had attracted a lot of attention. When news broke that he was venturing off on his own to fight similar crimes, the media had swarmed him. But that only masked what was really going on.

“I’m fine, Lott.”

“Are you?”

He really hated talking about this. A thousand knife stabs might as well pierce his chest. Then that heavy weight came next, along with an overwhelming sense of helplessness. “Yes.” Just thinking his wife’s name brought that terrible day back. Finding her already dead. After enduring so much tragedy already. He’d nearly gone insane. The only thing that saved him was moving to Rock Springs, Wyoming, a quiet, wildly beautiful place that asked nothing of him other than to breathe.

“I mean it, Kadin. You have to move on, not close yourself off to the world and immerse yourself in cold case murders.”

“I am moving on.” As much as he could. The only way he knew how.

“Shut off from everyone who cares about you. I don’t mean to sound like a sap, but I miss my friend. He disappeared the day his daughter did.”

Kadin didn’t know how to say he’d never be the same man he once was. He just knew. And that man hadn’t gone until the moment he learned Annabelle’s body had been found.

Body...

Her twelve-year-old body. Not Annabelle. Her body. Such powerful, unfathomable grief had racked him, for days, for months, a slicing machete going to work on his insides. Trapped in his lost and desolate mind with no way out, he hadn’t noticed how far Arielle had slipped into oblivion. Then the day had come when he’d found her. All of that emotion had imploded on him. He’d felt it bleed out of him until only empty darkness remained. Everything had become mechanical after that. Until he’d stumbled across some photographs of Annabelle when they’d lived in Wyoming.

“I was a cop before my daughter went missing,” Kadin said. “I’m doing what I’m meant to do.” His talent was being put to good use. And if he could use it to help others who were going through the same thing he had experienced, then that had to be good. That was his only joy. Every time he caught a murderer, he avenged his wife and daughter.

“You’re alone here,” Lott reminded him.

“No, I’m not. I know practically everyone in town. Besides, I’m hardly ever home. Not every cold case is in Sweetwater County.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to bury yourself in these investigations, Kadin. When is it going to be enough?”

Lott, like everyone else, didn’t understand. Home and family had different meanings to him now. Warm and full of optimistic love before the tragedy, starkly realistic after. That was why he’d opened this agency. This agency was for the people who knew life’s darkest reality. People like him.

“Look,” Lott said in his silence. “I know you hate talking about this. I’m worried about you. Your parents worry about you. I stop in every once in a while to check on you. I’ve done my duty. Now, since I’m staying through the weekend, how about we camp and fish this Friday and Saturday?”

“You’re staying that long?” Lott didn’t usually stay longer than a day or two.

“Yeah, I met a girl the last time I was here. You might be seeing me more often.”

Figured, a woman had drawn him here. Women drew him everywhere he went.

“Are you free this weekend?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Lott angled his head, a quiet demand for more information.

“I might take on another case.” He didn’t feel like explaining the Sara Wolfe case.

The front door jingled. He’d left the old bells there so that he’d know when someone arrived. Whoever had entered couldn’t have chosen better timing.

Kadin started toward his office door to go see who’d arrived.

“Don’t forget you have other things in your life besides hunting down killers,” Lott said as Kadin passed. And then as he followed, “Camping. This weekend. No talk about the past, I promise.”

“Another reason I moved here. To get away from old friends.” Lott would know he was kidding. Sort of.

“You couldn’t go far enough to get away from me.” Lott stopped beside Kadin in the lobby, where a woman stood looking around.

Lott whispered a whistle only Kadin could hear.

Few women caught Kadin’s eye anymore, but this one sure did. He had to agree with Lott. On the tall side, pushing five-nine, she had a thick head of wavy auburn hair that would look great spread out on bed sheets, and wide, long-lashed sea-green eyes that would add to the moment.

“Hi. Which one of you is Kadin Tandy?” she asked.

She wore skinny, distressed jeans, with knee-high, spiky-heeled boots and a fancy top with flashy accessories. She wasn’t afraid to be tall and stand out in a crowd. And she must have a creative streak.

“That would be him.” Lott strode to the door. When he was behind the woman, he waved as though the heat were getting to him and mouthed, She’s hot!

“I’ll see you Friday,” Kadin said gruffly.

Lott left, walking backward and pointing both fingers at the woman’s butt and nodding with a mouthed oh yeah.

The woman glanced back and Lott shut his mouth and turned, heading for his Jaguar.

“Friend of yours?” the woman asked.

“One of the best.” Minus the frat house sexual innuendos and constant meddling. “How can I help you?”

She surveyed his business space—the front entry and the vacant reception desk, the open conference room doors, his office and finally the walls. “Haven’t been here long, huh?”

“You’re the second person who said they didn’t like my decorating.”

She laughed good-naturedly. “What decorating?”

“I just moved in.” Two months ago, but who was counting?

She walked farther into the office space. “This is a beautiful building. I wasn’t expecting that.”

What was she expecting? He’d never met her before. “I’m sorry. You know my name but I don’t have the pleasure of knowing yours.”

“Oh.” She laughed again, another big smile. “Penny Darden.” She walked over to him.

“Penny.” He shook the hand she extended. “I assume there’s a reason you came to see me?”

There it was, the grim circumstances that had led her here, dimming her beautiful eyes and sweeping away her cheery smile. A victim’s family behaved that way. Or maybe this woman was a friend. Didn’t matter. Murder never made people happy.

“Sara Wolfe’s parents came to see you,” she said at last, daring to look into his eyes.

He managed to cover up the jarring surprise that gave him. “They didn’t come to see me. The lead detective in her case called me.”

“Oh...of course. I’m sorry.” She seemed nervous. What made her nervous? Him as a man or the Sara Wolfe case?

“Are you media?” he asked.

“No.” She clasped her hands in front of her, a vulnerable action for such a dynamic woman. He felt her energy, could see her basic strength. He saw a lot about people he first met. Those first impressions carried weight.

“I drove here from Salt Lake City after I read about you.”

She’d read about him? So her nervousness came from fascination, not the Wolfe case.

“First of all, I’m really sorry about what happened,” she said softly. “About Annabelle. And your wife. It must not be easy. Losing them like that.”

More dreaded talk. For the second time today, he felt sick to his stomach. He started to get angry. He couldn’t stand sympathy. People offered it when they had no idea what kidnapping did to those who had to live through the torture.

“Just tell me why you’re here,” he bit out.

At the hard clip to his tone, she checked herself. “Right. Sure.” She glanced down and then unclasped her hands and rubbed them on her jeans, shaking off awkwardness. “I actually came to talk to you about Sara Wolfe.”

“Are you related?”

She shook her head. “I heard about her murder on the news.”

“All right...”

She searched his eyes, hesitating but needing something. Without saying anything, she wandered across the small lobby, past a desk to the wall where nothing hung.

“Why don’t we start with who you are?” She’d told him her name but nothing else. “What do you do?”

She faced him. “I’m vice president of Client Services at Avenue One. We’re a big advertising agency, getting bigger each year.”

“How do you know Sara Wolfe?” he asked.

“I—I don’t, I just...read about her murder, and you, after...” She searched his eyes again.

“After what?” he said to help her out.

“One of our biggest clients is Ballard’s Sporting Goods. Have you heard of them?”

“Big sporting goods chain. Yeah.”

“Well, I’ve sort of been seeing the company’s president,” she said. “I met him when we landed the account and started working with him on their ad campaign. Jax Ballard. His older brother founded the company and they run it together.”

“What do they have to do with the Sara Wolfe case?”

Her gaze turned hard and determined, the businesswoman in her coming out. “This is where I have to be very delicate, Mr. Tandy.”

He didn’t have to guess why. “You think Jax Ballard may have something to do with Sara Wolfe’s murder?” No longer sensitive about the case, he felt his detective instincts kicking in. This woman could have a significant lead.

“I need to be sure before...”

“Just tell me what you know.” A little girl had been killed. He’d offer no sympathy to her if she had information that could lead him to the killer.

“I accompanied him to his cabin last Friday night. I walk every day, so I left for one early Saturday morning, before he woke. I followed a dirt road on his property and came upon an abandoned house and barn. I went into the barn and saw a truck parked inside. A white truck with a dent on the driver’s side.”

All Kadin could do was stare at her after she stopped talking, her revelation—and what it could mean—tearing through him, bringing him back to those days and hours when he and the other investigators were closing in on the man who’d abducted and killed his precious little girl.

“I—I’m not saying it’s the same truck. I—I just need to be sure before I go to the police.”

“Did he know you found the truck?” he asked.

“I told him I saw the barn and that’s it.”

Kadin lifted his brow. “He believes you didn’t see it?”

“I’m not sure.”

She’d seen the truck parked—no, hidden—in an abandoned barn and had heard about Sara Wolfe. Then she had taken action. While he didn’t approve of her not going to the police, he did commend her for coming to him.

“I went back.” She began to rummage in her purse.

“Back to the barn?” Kadin stepped toward her as she pulled out a cell phone.

He waited while she navigated.

“I took these pictures.”

He looked at them all and inwardly cheered when he saw the one with the VIN. As he lifted his head, his gaze collided with hers. “What made you decide to risk going back to get these?”

“Evidence,” she said, as though he ought to know.

“You put yourself in danger.”

“I was a little worried Jax might catch me, but what if he moved the truck? When I left the barn, I saw a man in the trees. He was carrying a flashlight. He could have been anyone.”

“A man wandering the woods at night? Alone?”

“I thought it was strange, too. And then he followed me. At least I think he followed me.”

“He followed you? For how long?”

“Until I parked in front of the police station.”

So the suspect might think she went inside and told the police about the truck. That might compel the criminal to do something.

“Good thinking, getting these pictures,” Kadin said. “I’ll get the wheels moving to get a search warrant. We need to look for DNA or fiber evidence. And from the sound of it, we need to move fast.”

“A search warrant?”

“There’s no other way.” Her boyfriend would know someone had told the police about the truck, and that someone was Penny.

She sighed. “How long will the search warrant take?”

“Hard to say. The location is remote and outside Park City. I’ll have to coordinate with the county sheriff.”

“Days?”

“Hopefully not more than two. Tomorrow or the next day. Will you have to work with Jax?”

“Yes, possibly.”

She had a couple of days to prepare. “Just act like nothing happened.”

“It’s more than that. If I’m wrong about this, I could lose my job.”

That seemed rather drastic to him. “How so? You’re doing what has to be done by reporting what you saw.”

“My boss will probably fire me.” She folded her arms, her purse swinging at her side as she bent one slender knee, a picture of vexation. “He’s been acting strange lately, putting a lot of unnecessary pressure on me ever since I landed a few big accounts.”

“He’s threatened by you?” Kadin took in her stance and felt the nervous energy bouncing off her. “There are laws he has to follow.”

“He’ll find some legal way of doing it.”

“Would you let him get away with that?”

She huffed out a laugh and lowered her arms. “No.”

He liked strong women like her. She had a heart but didn’t waste much time on sympathy. He found people—women—like her easier to be with than those who expressed their feelings too much.

“Are you going to take the case?” she asked.

Solving murders of adults differed greatly from violent crimes against children. Kadin felt the encroachment of dark memories and didn’t answer. Would he? How could he not? An innocent young girl had been killed. How could he stand back and let others work the case without helping?

Her clever green eyes took in his face, reading him well enough. “A man who doesn’t easily commit.” Then, as though on their own, her gaze lowered into a quick and flirty once-over. “We have that in common.”

She offered a diversion and he took it. “You don’t commit?” Biting down on her lush lower lip, she shrugged. Clearly neither of them was talking about Sara Wolfe’s murder investigation. And his gut was telling him she liked to play too much to be the type of woman to commit easily. The man to win her heart would need to hit all the marks on her demanding score sheet.

“So...do I need to go to the police directly?” she asked, breaking the awkward silence.

“Jax Ballard will know he’s a person of interest no matter who gets the warrant,” he replied.

“I’ll handle Jax Ballard.”

He gave her a slight bow. “I have no doubt you will.”

She smiled, the flirt in her popping out again. He found that rather irresistible, her lightness of heart, her lack of hesitation to engage with a man. Him.

“Do you have a card so I can call you?” he asked.

Those eyes blinked and that smiled continued to dazzle, until she realized he wasn’t trying to hit on her. He only needed a way to contact her. After the search warrant was issued and a crime scene unit was sent to search the truck.

“Oh.” Flustered, she dug into her purse.

Flirting with men must be almost a second nature to her. Easy. Natural. He remembered when he’d been the same way. Now there was no light left in him for that. He had no desire at all to pursue anyone. Although he had to admit, Penny was the first woman he’d encountered since his wife passed who stirred the hint of interest. Not enough to make him act.

She handed him a card, eyeing him guardedly.

He took it. “I’ll be in touch.”

She nodded, very businesslike. “Thank you.”

“Have a nice day.”

She looked at him as though checking to make sure he was serious, smile gone, a soundless oh on her lips.

He’d tried to sound casual and professional. Maybe he’d tried too hard. Have a nice day? Jeez.

“You as well, Mr. Tandy. I’ll be waiting to hear from you.” With that, she turned to go, sauntering out the door without looking back. A woman like her didn’t need to. She carried confidence like a politician, except with her, it came naturally.

Kadin went to the window, drawn by the trail only a fascinating woman could leave in her wake. Her long, slender legs glided in the high-heeled boots, butt firm and fit, thick red locks bouncing. He watched her get into her white BMW Z4 convertible on the street in front of his office. His building was on a corner, and the only parking lot was in the back and shared with other businesses. As she drove away, another car pulled away from the curb across the intersecting street, a black Jeep Wrangler with darkly tinted windows that followed her departure.

* * *

The next morning, Penny got out of her car and walked through the parking garage beneath Avenue One. Her shoes clicked against the concrete on her way to the elevator. She rode to her floor and stepped out. People bustled around, talked on phones and typed away on their keyboards. Her boss was in a meeting inside a glass-front conference room. He saw her and scowled. She’d taken yesterday off and was late getting here this morning.

Heading for her office, she went inside and closed the door. All the way back to Salt Lake City and long into the night, she hadn’t been able to shake thoughts of Kadin. The man in person didn’t disappoint. He looked exactly like the photo she’d seen, minus the cowboy hat, his eyes brighter without the shade. Magnetizing. What had he meant when he said they didn’t easily commit? After she’d had time to mull it over, she didn’t think he meant going to the police. He’d meant personally. What had she done to make him say that?

That photo of him must have really messed with her head. So mysterious. Sexy, but in a dark, brooding way. She’d never been drawn to a man like that before. Her norm gravitated toward the executive type. The man who owned rugged but didn’t walk rugged. Kadin walked rugged. He knocked her off her game. He’d flustered her. Those eyes. Nothing could have prepared her for the impact of them in person. A light, glowing gray, the intelligence in them had captivated her. Their lightness sparkled with life, but what beamed out to the world told a much more ominous story. Dark intelligence. The things those eyes had seen must be incredible.

On top of that distraction, she had to wait to hear when the search warrant went through, and then she’d have to brace herself for Jax’s wrath, especially if she was wrong in her suspicions.

Looking around her office, down on her desk and then at her computer where several emails waited to be read, she lost hope of all productivity. Penny buried her face in her hands. It was going to be impossible to concentrate on work today.

A knock on her office door brought her head up. Her boss stood there.

She waved him in.

Mark Pershing walked into the office, shutting the door behind him. “Where have you been?”

“I had something personal come up.”

He had his panicked look on right now, beady brown eyes wider than normal and side parted hair falling out of line from raking his fingers through it. Average in height, he wore a pale yellow dress shirt that washed out his face and was buttoned too tight over his slightly round belly. His anxiety seemed over-the-top. What was going on with him?

“This is a bad time to be taking time off, Penny. I need you here.”

“The Ballard campaign is under control.” She took in his overall disheveled appearance. “What’s the matter?”

“I had your direct reports coming to me with questions all day yesterday. They fell behind schedule.”

In one day? “Mark, nothing is wrong with our schedule. Are you all right?” Penny stood up and stepped around the desk to stand before him. “What’s going on? Why are you so tense?”

He smoothed his hair in support of the side part. The hair fell where it was before. “I’m getting a lot of pressure from the board.”

Why? The board couldn’t have any complaints about her campaign with Ballard’s. They were ecstatic over the account, and she stayed on top of every issue.

“Are we losing money somewhere else?” she asked.

He looked at her strangely for several seconds, his panic going behind a mask. “I need you here, Penny.”

“I am here. Trust me, I want this as much as you do.”

“I’m sorry.” He shoved his fingers through his hair again. “What happened with you? Can you talk about it?”

“No...not yet. It’s nothing dire.” She caught what she’d just said. Well, not for her, anyway. “I just need to get through it.” Maybe. That depended on when Kadin lined up the search and Jax confronted her.

When Mark continued to subject her to his thin-lipped doubt, she said, “We’re in production for the first ad. They won’t need me until next week. I’ve been meeting with Jax on the camping equipment ad. Stop worrying.”

“But I do. Especially when you vanish so abruptly without an explanation. This is a big account, Penny. We’re all counting on you.” And then he added, “I’m counting on you.”

Hearing the desperation in his tone, and certain he knew something she didn’t, she tried to placate him. “I know.” She put her hand in his upper arm. “Just trust me, all right?” If Avenue One was in trouble, then she’d do everything she could to save the company.

Reluctantly, his lips curved into a small smile and he nodded. Then he put his hand over hers on his arm, curling his fingers to hold hers. The touch made her withdraw her hand. He hadn’t gotten over her rejection. Would he ever? And now he tried to hang the Ballard account over her head. For what reason? To cover a mistake he’d made? She wished he’d talk to her.

Up until now, she wouldn’t have labeled her boss as weak, but he sure seemed that way now. She wouldn’t be fooled. Mark was a smart businessman. A little egotistical, but smart. Decisive at times. Few, if anyone other than her, had seen him like this.

She began to realize that her job might be in more jeopardy than sending cops after Avenue One’s number two client.

“Is there something you need to tell me?” she asked quietly.

Mark’s usual impenetrable self returned. “No. Get to work.” With that he left her office, closing the door behind him.

Her cell rang. Seeing the caller ID, she debated whether to answer. It was Jax.

She reluctantly picked up.

“Where are you?” he asked.

In a flash she remembered they had made plans to meet for a working breakfast today. “Oh, darn.” She hadn’t eaten yet. “I forgot all about it. I’ve been so busy.”

“Your assistant said you were out all day yesterday.”

“Something came up on another account. I’m sorry. It’s that project I told you about.” She really disliked lying, especially since she sounded good at it. “Where are you?”

“I’m on my way up,” he said.

Here? He was coming to her office? Apprehension drained her face of color, and prickles chased through her arms. Lying about her job differed from pretending to still be interested in Jax.

“You were going to show me the mockups for the new ad,” he reminded her.

“Yes.” She gathered her aplomb. “Why don’t you meet me in the conference room? The one off the lobby.” There would be a lot of people passing the windowed wall.

“I’m just now getting off the elevator.”

“Okay.”

Penny took her laptop and went to the conference room. She was hooking her computer up to the overhead projector when Jax entered, a visitor badge hanging around his neck, silk suit flowing down his lean body.

She plastered a smile to her face.

“Hi,” he said with a guarded grin.

Had he seen through her fake congeniality? Since they were at work, he didn’t walk over to kiss her. Instead, he put his briefcase on the floor and simply took a seat.

She remained standing and began her presentation. “We were thinking about taking a Parent Trap theme for one of the commercials. Something with an air mattress floating on a lake.” She clicked through a few slides with examples of lines and props.

“Maybe something a little more modern,” Jax said.

“Already thought of that. We envisioned starting out in the past time and then flashed forward to modern time.” She showed him an animated clip of what they’d turn into a real commercial.

When it ended, he nodded slowly. “I like it. But I’m not sure how many people will be familiar with a movie like that.”

“We can explore other options.”

“Let’s do that.”

Penny moved to his side and sat down, turning her laptop so he could see it. For the next hour and a half they researched other movies and came up with a few that might produce a few scenes they could mimic in the commercial. It was easy to fall into the work. Penny loved what she did. She’d always been a creative person, and Avenue One gave her busy, intellectual stimulation.

“This is good,” Jax said when they finished for the day. “Good progress.”

“Mark will be relieved you feel that way.” Maybe he’d get off her back.

He angled his head. “Oh? He has concerns?”

Penny curbed her tongue. She wouldn’t air corporate speculation. “He’s always concerned. He wants you and your brother to be happy with these ads.” And so did she, at least until he was arrested for kidnapping. If he’d be arrested...

“I have no doubt that we will.” He smiled the way he always did, warm and affectionate.

She was glad to hear him say that.

He stood, checking his phone. “I’ve got meetings the rest of the day. Are we still on for tonight?” he finally asked.

She felt her stomach churn with fear, but she nodded with a congenial, “Of course. How about eight?”

“Eight it is. See you then.” Jax looked down at her mouth as though wanting to kiss her. Thankfully they were in the office. Tonight would be another challenge.

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