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  Riley squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry. I know her illness breaks your heart. It breaks mine, too. For you, for everyone.”

  “She’s getting worse,” he said.

  Riley placed her hand on his cheek. “I know. I’m only just getting to know her, but even I noticed in the last month she’s stopped drawing in her book.”

  “Did you know Gram’s the one who taught me to fly a crop duster? Pops sold the plane, but damn, I loved the freedom of flying that old girl.” He met Riley’s gaze. “I wish you’d known her then.” He paused for a moment. “You handle Gram well. I know it can be uncomfortable. Not everyone can deal with someone who has dementia.”

  “I love your family. All of them.”

  “It will only get worse and tougher to cope with her illness.” His shoulders tensed. “I can’t guarantee lots of good times ahead.”

  “I don’t expect perfection, Thayne. I never have.” She refilled her coffee mug. She sipped and closed her eyes. “We have to move forward in the investigation as if Gram can’t help. You know that.”

  “Play the voice mail again,” Thayne said, his voice huskier than he’d have liked. “Maybe there’s something we missed.”

  Riley tapped the phone to play the message.

  “Umm,” Kim’s hesitant voice said through the speaker. “This message is for Riley Lambert. I got your name from . . . a good friend. I need to talk to you. You may be the only one who can help me.”

  “She’s nervous. She paused at the end of each sentence. I halfway expected her to hang up before she finished,” Thayne said.

  “She needed my help, and I didn’t get back to her soon enough.” She shoved her fingers through her hair.

  “You couldn’t have known what would happen.” Thayne frowned at her. “This isn’t your fault.”

  “Every instinct is screaming that she and her husband should never have died. That I should’ve been more aware, taken a call from Singing River as seriously as I take calls from DC.”

  “We can’t change the past. You know that better than anyone.” Thayne took both her hands in his and stroked her palm. “But we can go forward from here. We can find out who killed the Jordans. You have more experience than I do evaluating murder suspects, but every course I’ve taken over the last several months says to look at home first.”

  He could see Riley grabbing on to the facts. His fiancée had a misplaced sense of accountability. Thayne understood. He used to feel that way, but his grandmother’s illness had taught him that some things couldn’t be fixed. Some things never worked out. Riley had to internalize her limitations. She could do only so much.

  “National statistics indicate around eighty percent of murderers know their victim. Spouses, jilted lovers, coworkers, neighbors. A stranger being the murderer is much less common.” Riley ticked off the facts.

  “The Jordans hardly knew anyone in town, at least not very well. Ironcloud lives out there and would’ve called me if he’d found any reports of strange activity.”

  “They kept to themselves,” Riley mused, the frown line between her eyes deepening. “That must have been hard for their daughter. She’s at that age where kids rebel against their parents.”

  Thayne studied Riley’s disturbed expression. “What are you thinking?”

  Riley let out a long sigh. “I’m not suggesting anything yet, but Chloe is the sole survivor, and the closest relative to the victims. We have to consider whether she set the fire.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Twelve-year-old Chloe a murderer? Thayne had pulled her out of the panic room. She’d been so vulnerable. He didn’t want to believe it, but he’d seen more than his share of depravity during his tours. He’d witnessed children brainwashed and willing to strap a bomb to their chest without considering who might be hurt or killed.

  Mercy on a mission had resulted more than once in unacceptable death and destruction. Man could be the most uncivilized of animals.

  The Blackwood living room went silent, save for the thrumming call of the sage grouse that inhabited the land around the ranch house.

  Riley’s gaze captured his, her jaw hard and her stance tense. She was waiting for his response. “Go ahead and say it. I know you want to. I’m overreacting. Overreaching in my assumptions.”

  He couldn’t lie. He wanted to deny her observations, yet he couldn’t.

  “I don’t want you to be right on this one,” he said finally, “but I know you might be.” He stood and made his way to the sliding glass door, searching the tall grass for the grouse as a distraction. His teeth ground together to fight back the frustration. “Why do you always think I’m going to disagree with you? How am I supposed to convince you to trust me?” he said, his voice soft. He loved her, damn it. He’d done everything in his power to show her that his love encompassed everything about her, including her abilities to uncover what criminals tried to hide. Was it too much to ask for her to have a little faith in him?

  “I do—”

  He faced her. “You don’t. I can see it in your eyes. You believe I’ll fight you on your conclusions, that I won’t believe you.”

  Her shoulders tensed, and she lifted her chin. “I get that reaction all the time at work. I saw the look you gave me. You don’t want to consider I’m right.”

  “This isn’t about not believing you.” Thayne shoved his hand through his hair. “I respect what you do, Riley. I’ve witnessed you do the impossible, but that doesn’t mean I don’t wish the young girl we’ve found is innocent. I don’t want a murderer loose in Singing River putting the town, my family, and you in danger.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I spent over a decade expecting every person I encountered who wasn’t on my team to shoot me down or slit my throat. Do you know how difficult it is for me to trust people? But with you, it wasn’t hard at all. I don’t just love you—I trust you. The two go hand in hand. Maybe this isn’t about me not trusting you. Maybe it’s about you not trusting me.”

  Before she could respond, the door to the Blackwood house flew open. The echo of heavy footsteps pounded toward the kitchen.

  Thayne’s father entered the room and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve spent the last hour arguing with Dan. Again. He still refuses to visit the clinic, but I did have an early dinner with him and Kate last night. He refused to talk about the bruises in front of her, and she seemed like the caring—and sober—woman I’ve always known. I don’t know what happened between them. We have to keep an eye on him, though.”

  Carson stalked past his son toward the long hallway leading to the bedroom. Being under the eye of the former sheriff—who was also his dad—meant no matter what Thayne did, he’d be measured.

  Thayne rubbed his temple. “Great, just great.”

  Riley placed her hand on his arm. “Thayne—”

  “Don’t, Riley.” He didn’t want to push her away, but he couldn’t trust himself not to say something he’d regret. All he wanted was to go home, grab a beer, and not think for the next twelve hours. “How about we don’t talk any more tonight. I’ll drive you to your car, and we can figure this out tomorrow. Maybe by then Pendergrass will come up with some forensic evidence from the fire that we can use.”

  Thayne didn’t wait for an answer but walked toward the door. His heart hurt. He’d imagined when Riley had finally admitted she loved him that everything would work out fine. He’d been wrong.

  Falling in love hadn’t been easy. Staying in love was turning out to be a lot tougher than he’d expected.

  The ringtone from his phone pierced the uncomfortable silence. He tapped the screen. “Sheriff Blackwood.”

  “This is dispatch. We’ve got a fight at Clive’s Dance Hall and Saloon.” Alicia sounded shaken. “It’s those oil workers again. Clive said they’re tearing the place up.”

  “On my way,” Thayne said. “Have Deputy Ironcloud meet me there if he can.”

  He ended the call and snatched his keys before heading out the door. So much for a quiet evening
.

  “I’m coming with you.” Riley had already zipped up her coat. “You’ll need someone to watch your six.”

  She wasn’t wrong. Plus, she was a damn good shot and a hell of a fighter. Just another thing he loved about her.

  “Let’s go.”

  They jumped into his official vehicle, and he sped down the road. The saloon was about five miles outside the city limits, a leftover from the Prohibition days. Unfortunately, the Blackwood Ranch was a solid fifteen minutes in the opposite direction.

  He flipped on the siren and picked up the phone and tapped his father’s number.

  “What happened?” Carson said.

  “Bar fight. I’ll be back later.” Thayne let him know where Pops and Gram were. “Dad, I’m sorry about today.”

  His father sighed. “It’s my fault. That damn virus forced me to retire too soon, and I don’t like it. You shouldn’t have had to leave your career in the SEALs for me.”

  “I separated for a lot of reasons, Dad.”

  “You did it a lot sooner than you planned. Just like me.”

  Thayne couldn’t deny the words. He shot Riley a quick glance. If his father hadn’t been ill, would he and Riley have ever taken a chance on their relationship? He would’ve liked to think so, but right now he wasn’t sure. Maybe they’d still be talking on the phone every week. Truth was, he missed their Friday-night phone dates.

  The past didn’t matter now. Only the present. And the future. “How about we work something out? Maybe make you a consultant?”

  “You don’t have the budget,” Carson said with a huff. “I ought to know.”

  “I figured you’d work for free.”

  Riley turned to him and lifted an eyebrow.

  “You buy me lunch every day and I’ll think about it.”

  “Deal. Dan Peterson is your first case. He helped us find Chloe Jordan today. I owe him. Convince him to get that bruise checked out at Cheyenne’s clinic, and see if you can’t figure out what’s bugging him.”

  “I’m telling you it’s all right between Dan and Kate, but if that’s what it takes, I’ll do it.”

  Thayne ended the call and set down the phone.

  “Well played.” Riley opened her bag and checked her Glock. “Everyone needs to feel needed.”

  “I should’ve thought of it the day after he retired,” Thayne muttered with a frown.

  “Probably.”

  He chuckled. “You don’t give an inch, do you?”

  “Neither do you.” Riley twisted in her seat. “If you haven’t noticed, being in a relationship is new territory for me.”

  “I get that. I really do.” Thayne turned down the highway. “Do you sometimes feel like you’ve gone down the rabbit hole into a place you never thought you’d be?”

  “Oh yeah. Be patient with me, Thayne. I’ll figure it out.”

  Thayne smiled at her. “How about we figure it out together?”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  He pulled into the saloon parking lot. Along with the slew of pickups he recognized, several oil company vehicles lined the rustic building. “Used to be I’d know everyone in the place. Those oil workers bring in a lot of money, but they’ve changed the town. Pinedale’s got it worse, of course. We get the spillover.”

  Riley slid the gun into her shoulder holster and slipped on her jacket.

  A crash sounded from inside Clive’s.

  “Damn it.” Thayne grabbed a shotgun from the back seat, rushed inside, and skidded to a halt. The country band had hunkered down in the corner. A few folks stood at the bar, but it was a free-for-all.

  Thayne let out an ear-piercing whistle that splintered the shouts.

  Everyone looked up, except one idiot, who’d slammed a wooden chair across Clive’s back.

  Riley’s ears rang at the high-pitched whistle, and the entire bar gasped. Thayne definitely knew how to make an entrance. His jaw had tightened, and Riley recognized the cold fury on his face. She wouldn’t want to be one of the brawlers.

  “That’s it,” he snapped. “Fun’s over. Everyone stand up and keep still. If you move, I’ll pepper you with salt,” he said, patting his gun, his voice firm and inscrutable. “I don’t miss, and it’ll hurt like hell.”

  They took him at his word, because not a soul tried to make a run for it. Thayne glanced at Riley and nodded away from the crowd. She positioned herself near the bar, where she had a good view.

  Thayne strode down the middle of the dance floor, the heels of his boots crunching on the peanut shells. He turned to his left. “Move toward the wall and place your hands where I can see them.”

  The sea of bodies followed his orders until the center of the room was empty. A few women sniffed, but they followed instructions.

  Thayne hurried over to the crumpled heap in the middle of the floor. He grabbed Clive’s arm. “You okay?”

  With help, the older man rose to his feet and groaned. “I’ve been better.”

  “Who can I send home?” Thayne asked.

  “The band, the women. Those oil workers started the whole thing.” Clive pointed out the troublemakers.

  In short order and with a stern warning, Thayne emptied the saloon until he faced four of the newcomers and a couple of ranch hands from Brett Riverton’s place. His brother-in-law wouldn’t be happy.

  “Keep an eye on them,” Thayne ordered Riley, “while I find transportation. The jail’s gonna be full tonight.”

  He placed the cell phone to his ear and spoke softly while Riley stared down the group, their cut faces, swollen jaws, and torn clothes clear enough evidence of what had happened.

  A rustling sound came from behind the bar. Apparently, someone was trying to dodge a night in jail. Riley didn’t like the feeling of her back being at risk of an attack.

  “Don’t move,” she warned the men. “The sheriff’s nicer than I am. I don’t have salt in my Glock. I use real bullets.”

  Not shifting her focus from the rough-looking group, she backed toward the bar and peered behind it. Carol Wallace crouched low, her hand gripping a bottle of tequila. Her bloodshot eyes looked too familiar.

  All the tension melted away. “Oh, Carol.”

  Riley couldn’t help but feel sorry for the woman. She hadn’t caught a break in decades. A bad relationship. A volatile addiction to alcohol and a daughter who had gone missing only to be found years later and sent to jail for murder.

  The men shifted, a couple eyeing the door.

  Riley shifted her jacket back to reveal her holster. “Don’t even think about running.”

  “What the hell is going on here?” A tall man burst in the room. “Sheriff, what have you done to my men?”

  “Nothing, Mr. Decker. Your employees decided they’d do a little reorganizing of Clive’s place, and he’s pressing charges.”

  The man frowned at the men, who immediately looked away. “I see.” He smiled at Thayne, one of those smarmy smiles when a man believes he’s got the upper hand. He didn’t know Thayne very well.

  “Now, Sheriff. Maybe we can come to some sort of agreement.” Decker opened up his wallet and pulled out a stack of bills. “I’m sure this will take care of the damages, and then we can call it even.”

  Thayne crossed his arms. “I don’t take bribes.”

  Clive tapped Thayne’s shoulder and leaned forward. Riley couldn’t make out what he was whispering in Thayne’s ear.

  Thayne frowned but gave Clive a quick nod. “Seems like Clive’s willing to do you a favor for cash. Your men spend one night in jail to sleep it off, you pay Clive damages, and we’ll call it lessons learned. No insurance involved.”

  Decker’s grin widened. “Now you’re talking sensible. It’s a deal.”

  He stuck out his hand, but Thayne ignored the gesture.

  Riley hid a smile. Thayne had his own set of rules, rules he didn’t compromise.

  “I’m not finished. I don’t want to see any of your men in Clive’s place again. You understand me, Decker?
I won’t be so forgiving next time.”

  A familiar law enforcement siren sounded toward the building. The men grew restless, and one of them shifted back and forth. “I’m not spending the night in jail,” he whispered, though not very quietly. He bolted toward the exit.

  What a drunken idiot. She sidestepped him and, with a quick move, twisted his arm. His momentum landed him on his back. He whimpered, complaining she’d busted his arm, and when he tried to get up, she planted her foot on his chest and quirked a smile at Thayne. “I thought Wyoming men were tough.”

  Thayne grinned at her. During moments like this, she could almost read his mind.

  Decker let out an exasperated sigh and kneaded the back of his neck. “Earnhardt, you’re an idiot. You just won a week without pay. Now stop your whining, get up, and do your time, or I’ll find someone to replace you.”

  Riley studied the boss. He’d surprised her. It was refreshing to see someone hold people accountable for their actions.

  Thayne folded his arms across his chest. “You’re not offering a little more green to sweeten the pot?”

  Decker shook his head. “I don’t make the same mistake twice, Sheriff. I’ve got a quota, and if these guys end up in jail for more than a night, I could lose my job, but there’s only so far I’ll go. Earnhardt crosses too many lines for my taste. He could use a little extra rehabilitation from where I’m sitting.”

  “At least he’ll dry out,” Thayne said.

  Earnhardt groaned and stumbled to his feet just as Deputy Ironcloud walked into the room.

  “You brought the van?” Thayne asked.

  Ironcloud nodded, and within minutes the three of them had fastened zip ties around the men’s wrists.

  Thayne paused. “Decker, you want to ride with your men?”

  “Hell no. But I do appreciate your understanding.” He stuck out his hand once more. This time Thayne took it. “I’ll be by in the morning—hopefully to pick up a crew who are a little more sober and a whole lot wiser.”