The Bodyguard's Return Part 3

He smiled, one that lifted only a corner of his mouth with s.e.xy laziness. "I like to know a little bit about the people I deal with."

"Fine. I'm twenty-four years old. I love animals and candy bars, I hate superficiality and people who don't have a sense of humor."

She leaned forward, meeting his gaze directly. "I met Charlie on the first day I arrived in town. I'd just left my car at Mechanic's Mansion and was looking for a hotel or motel to stay in while the car was being fixed. There were a couple of teenagers on the corner and I asked them about accommodations, and they told me there was a nice bed-and-breakfast on the edge of town."

His eyes began to glitter with humor, obviously seeing where her story was leading. "Anyway," she continued, "one of the boys offered to drive me there. He took me to the entrance to Charlie's place and left me there."

"I'll bet you were horrified," he said.

She laughed. "When I broke through the trees and saw Charlie's place, I suspected I'd been had, but I wasn't one hundred percent sure so I marched up to Charlie's door and told him I'd heard he ran the best bed and breakfast in town."

She smiled at the memory of Charlie's face and a swift sharp grief pierced through her, stealing her smile and forcing the sting of tears to her eyes. She raised a hand to swipe them away.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." His voice was gentle and she saw real regret in his eyes.

She nodded. "I'm just going to miss him so much. Other than your sister and Winnie, Charlie was my only friend in town. We used to spend hours playing chess." She released a small laugh. "I never got a chance to beat him."

"I could never beat him either." For a long moment their gazes remained locked. It was a moment of connection, two people mourning for somebody they had both loved. This time he broke the eye contact and gestured to the papers in front of her. "Okay, show me what you've got."

She cleared her throat, stuffing her emotions for Charlie back deep inside. "I noticed when I was reading back issues of the paper that there seemed to be an unusual number of fatal accidents in the area."

"It's a ranching and farming community, there are always accidents."

"True, but Cotter Creek seemed to have more than its share, so two weeks ago I did some statistical a.n.a.lysis, comparing like-size ranching and farming communities. What I discovered was that the incidence of accidental deaths was three hundred times higher in Cotter Creek than anywhere else I compared it with."

Joshua raised a dark eyebrow and took the sheet of paper that held her data. She watched him as he studied it. She'd met most of his brothers, each more handsome than the next, but Joshua seemed to have gotten the West good-looking gene in spades.

Savannah had been raised among the beautiful people of Scottsdale and if they weren't beautiful by nature, then plastic surgery solved the problem. She'd been the anomaly, a busty redhead with a snub nose covered in freckles, who had no interest in bee-stung lips or liposuction.

By nature she didn't particularly trust handsome men. She knew she was the kind of girl handsome men took home only when all the pretty blondes and brunettes had left the party.

She'd had one relationship with a man who'd been so attractive he'd taken her breath away, but it had turned out to be a cliche. He'd left her for a gorgeous woman who had taken his breath away.

But she needed to trust Joshua West. She needed him in her corner.

Her mind flashed with an image of him standing in the bathroom doorway, his chest splendidly naked and tautly muscled. A wave of warmth fluttered through her at the memory. Her last relationship had been almost a year ago, long enough that she'd almost forgotten what it felt like to have a warm naked chest pressed against her own. Almost...but not quite.

"Okay." He set the paper back on the desk and looked at her, no trace of humor in his gaze. "You've got my attention."

"Trust me, that's just the beginning," she said. She handed him the next paper she'd printed off. "This is a list of all the deaths that have occurred in Cotter Creek in the past two years." She focused on her subject and tried to forget the vision of his naked chest that had popped unbidden into her head.

"If you take each one separately, they don't seem so ominous...a tractor accident, a fall from a hayloft, a gas heater malfunction. You know Gray Sampson's death had initially been ruled accidental. Sheriff Ramsey a.s.sumed he'd been thrown from his horse and had hit his head on a rock."

She talked faster and faster, needing to get everything out. "It was only when Gray's daughter and your brother Zack began to investigate that they realized it wasn't an accident, but instead was murder."

Joshua held up a hand to stop her. "Take a breath before you pa.s.s out."

She felt a blush sweep up her neck. "Sorry, I've just been waiting so long for somebody to really listen to me. For the last week and a half I've been telling anyone and everyone that something isn't right here, but n.o.body is interested in hearing me out."

"Right now all you've convinced me of is that in the past year and a half the people of Cotter Creek were either more careless or more unlucky than others."

"I'm not finished yet," she replied. "By the time I am, you'll see that something terrible is happening in this town, and unless somebody does something about it, more people are going to die."

Joshua had yet to make up his mind about Savannah. He wasn't sure if she was a drama queen looking for excitement or was really onto something.

She'd surprised him with her statistical a.n.a.lysis and the sharp intelligence that gleamed from her amber-colored eyes.

The one thing he did know was that something about Savannah Clarion made him a little bit jumpy, made his thoughts race in directions they shouldn't be going.

As she'd talked to him, he'd found himself wondering if her red curls were soft and silky or wiry and coa.r.s.e. He'd wondered if her full mouth would be soft and yielding beneath his or fierce and demanding?

Those kinds of thoughts irritated him. Hadn't he learned his lesson in New York? He focused his attention on the next piece of paper she shoved over in front of him.

"I made a list of all the people who have died. As you can see, all of them are men," she said.

He read the list of names, then looked back at her. "Look, this is all very interesting, but I don't see any big conspiracy here."

She frowned, her lower lip jutting out slightly in what appeared to be a small pout. "I'm not finished with all the investigating I intend to do," she said. "Help me, Joshua. Please help me find out exactly what happened to all these men. With two of us working together it will take half the time to get some answers."

He leaned back in his chair and swiped a hand through his hair. "I'm not sure what the questions are that need to be asked."

"We need to look at each individual incident and see if there are any anomalies, anything that doesn't fit with it being an accident. Like I said before, Gray Sampson's death would have been ruled an accident. It wasn't until your brother picked up the rock where Gray had supposedly fallen off his horse and hit his head and saw blood on both sides that they realized the rock had been used to bludgeon him to death."

She paused to draw a deep breath and he tried not to notice the rise and fall of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s beneath the light lavender sweater she wore.

"As far as I'm concerned, Charlie buying ice cream an hour before he supposedly committed suicide is a huge red flag," she continued. "Joshua, you were his friend. You should know Charlie didn't have a suicidal bone in his body. Don't you want to know the truth? Isn't Charlie worth a little of your time?"

Joshua sighed. He had to admit that the fact that Charlie bought groceries then went home and blew his brains out, didn't make sense. Charlie's wife Rebecca had been gone a long time and Charlie seemed to have made peace with the fact that he would live out the rest of his years alone.

Surely if a man was going to commit suicide to be with his departed wife, he wouldn't wait eight long years. Charlie's suicide just didn't make sense, although any other scenario didn't make sense either.

What else do you have to do with your time, a little voice whispered inside his head? He didn't want to work the family business and he wasn't interested in continuing as a stockbroker, but had no idea what he really wanted to do. He had nothing but time on his hands at the moment.

"All right," he relented after a moment's hesitation. "I'll do some checking into these deaths. I'll get the accident reports and look them over."

"Thank you." She smiled and he felt a jolt of heat sweep through him. She had one h.e.l.l of a smile. She grabbed a sheet of paper and scribbled something then handed it to him. "That's my phone number at Winnie's and my cell phone number."

He took them reluctantly, having no intention of calling her except to tell her he'd done as she'd requested. Something about her unsettled him and the less interaction she had with him the better he'd feel. "It should just take me a day or two." He stood, eager to be away from her with her s.e.xy scent and heart-stopping smile.

She handed him the papers she'd printed off and he folded them and stuck them in his back pocket. "Why did you decide to come back to Cotter Creek?" she asked, also rising. "Meredith told me you'd been doing quite well in New York."

I ran back home like a dog with my tail tucked between my legs. I screwed up with a relationship that turned more than ugly. The thoughts flew through his head, bringing with him the sense of failure that had ridden his shoulders since he'd made the decision to return home.

"I missed my family. When you're used to being surrounded by people who care about you, a place like New York City can be pretty lonely."

She eyed him wryly. "I doubt if a man like you had too many lonely nights."

"There's a difference between being alone and being lonely." He gestured toward the door, uncomfortable with the personal turn of the conversation.

"Must be nice to have a loving family," she said as she gathered her papers, then joined him at the front door.

"You aren't close with your family?" he asked. She stood close enough to him that he could again smell her scent, a heady fragrance that put all his nerves on alert.

"It's just me and my parents," she replied. "I don't think my mother ever recovered from the shock of not birthing a perfect blond, beautiful miniature of herself, and my father was mostly absent while I was growing up. He had to work long hours to keep my mother in baubles and bling."

She turned out the light, locked the door and they stepped out of the building. Night had completely fallen, but the illumination from a full moon cascaded down, painting her features in a soft, becoming light.

"I can't thank you enough for meeting me here tonight and listening to me."

"Don't thank me yet," he warned. "You haven't convinced me that there's anything ominous going on."

She nodded, her curls dancing with the gesture. "How are Jessie and Judd?"

Joshua thought of the two dogs he'd brought home from Charlie's place. "Initially they were confused and seemed depressed, but they're beginning to settle in just fine. Smokey wasn't thrilled that I'd brought them home."

She laughed, a low throaty sound. "Is that man ever happy about anything?"

He grinned. "Smokey's bark is definitely louder than his bite. After my mother's death I'm not sure my father could have coped with six small children without Smokey's help."

"How did that happen? I mean, where did he come from?"

"Smokey worked as a foreman on the ranch until a terrible fall from a horse crushed his leg and left him with permanent damage. He'd just about healed from his wounds when my mother was murdered. Smokey stepped into the house as if he were born to the job."

"I'd love to interview him for my column. Actually, I'd love to interview you, you know, something about the return of the prodigal son."

"No way, I'm not interested in being interviewed. And good luck with Smokey," he added drily. At that moment a loud bang resounded and almost simultaneously the picture window just to the right of them exploded.

Without thought, acting only on instinct, Joshua dove toward Savannah and tackled her to the ground.

Chapter 4.

Savannah hit the pavement hard, the back of her head connecting with the concrete with a dull whack that momentarily created whirling stars in her brain. Joshua's body covered hers as shards of gla.s.s rained down around them.

For a moment she was frozen, unable to think. The back of her head throbbed from the blow. She opened her eyes and winced. "What happened?" she asked as the initial shock began to wear off.

"Shh." He shushed her sharply. She could swear she felt his heart pounding against her chest, but then wasn't sure if it was his or her own beating so frantically.

In the moonlight she could see his features, taut and dangerous-looking as he gazed at the darkness across the street.

What was he looking for? What had just happened? A dog barked in the distance, the only sound in the otherwise silent night. "What's going on? Do you see anything?" she whispered.

"Where are your keys to the office?" His voice was like hers, just a whisper.

She dug her hand into her pocket and withdrew the keys. He took them from her. For the first time since they'd fallen to the pavement, he looked down at her. "I'm going to open the office door and when I do, I want you to crawl inside. Whatever you do, don't stand up."

His eyes gleamed more silver than green in the moonlight. Dangerous. He looked so dangerous it frightened her. "What happened, Joshua?" she asked again, her fear evident in her voice. "What's going on?"

"Somebody just took a shot at us." His eyes narrowed as he once again looked across the street. "And I don't know if the shooter is still there waiting for us to make a move or not."

A shot? Somebody had shot at them? Fear swelled inside her. Her head throbbed with nauseating intensity. "I told you something was rotten in this town." Her voice rose in volume. Surely this was proof. "I must be onto something and now somebody is trying to shut me up."

"How about you shut up right now until we get inside and can call the sheriff."

She would have been offended by his words if she hadn't been so busy trying to process the fact that apparently somebody had just tried to kill them.

As he started to get off her, she had the crazy need to wrap her arms around his neck and keep him in place so close to her.

Don't go, she wanted to say. But, she didn't. She held her breath as he slowly eased up into a crouch and quickly made his way to the office door.

She tensed, waiting for another gun report, praying another bullet didn't come careening out of the night toward him. She released a sigh of relief as he reached the door, unlocked it and shoved it open.

"Keep low," he said.

Keep low? She'd crawl on her belly like a worm if it kept her alive. And that's exactly what she did. As she moved, she was aware of the grit of the sidewalk beneath her, the shards of gla.s.s that littered the way.

Tension made her feel like throwing up. Somebody had shot at her. Somebody had pointed a gun and pulled the trigger. Her head pounded with the horrifying knowledge. Apparently somebody wanted her dead.

She made it to the doorway and slid inside. Joshua sat on the floor next to Raymond Buchannan's desk, the phone to his ear. As she crawled up next to him he hung up. "The sheriff is on his way. Are you okay?"

"My head hurts and my clothes are ruined, but other than being positively terrified, I think I'm fine." But, she wasn't fine. A trembling shuddered through her as she thought of the window exploding and the bullet that had caused it.

He nodded, then rising to a crouch once again he moved away from the desk and to the edge of the broken window where he peered outside. "I don't think our shooter is out there now."

"How do you know that?" Even though she wasn't at all sure she liked Joshua West that much, what she wanted to do more than anything at the moment was curl up in his arms. There was no doubt in her mind that the bullet had been meant for her.

He turned from the window and glanced back at her, his eyes glittering darkly. "If the shooter was still out there, there's no way we would have been able to make it back inside to call the sheriff. He would have fired again to try to prevent us getting help."

"What more proof do you need that something is going on? Somebody just tried to kill me and it can only be because I'm digging into things somebody doesn't want uncovered."

"Don't jump to conclusions," he replied tersely. "And when the sheriff gets here let me do the talking. If you come off like a half-hysterical female, he won't listen to either one of us."

"I've never been a hysterical female in my life," she replied with more than a touch of irritation. Now that some of the fear was pa.s.sing she found herself aggravated by his words. "Part of the problem in this town is that the men don't listen to the women."

Both Meredith and Winnie had extolled Joshua's charm, but so far Savannah had seen little evidence that the man possessed any at all.

As the sound of a siren filled the night, Joshua rose to his feet, apparently convinced that whoever had shot at them was gone.

He flipped on the light and gazed around the room. Savannah remained seated on the floor. She wasn't going to stand up until Sheriff Ramsey walked into the building.

"Whoever made that shot didn't intend to kill with it," Joshua said.