The Sheriff of Silverhill

Blinking, Dana tried to focus her gaze on a pair of cowboy boots. Safety. Security. Rafe.

“S-someone attacked me.” She rubbed her eyes and grabbed the handle of the car door to struggle to her feet.

Rafe cursed and hooked his arms beneath hers, pulling her up and into his embrace. She sank against his broad chest, inhaling his clean, masculine scent, which seemed to revive her senses.

“Where’d he go?”

She raised her arm and with a shaky finger, pointed toward the underbrush. Rafe withdrew his weapon and gripped her shoulder. “You’re going back inside.”

“Dana? What’s going on?” An oblong of light appeared where Auntie Mary opened her front door.

“Go.” Rafe gave her a shove from behind and stalked toward the bushes.

“No!” Dana lunged toward him, grabbing his forearm. “Don’t go in there, Rafe.”

He cupped her face with one hand. “Don’t worry. Get inside the house.”

Dana stumbled toward Auntie Mary, who encircled her waist with one sinewy arm and drew her onto the porch. A beam of light from Rafe’s flashlight pierced the darkness as he crashed through the underbrush.

Dana held her breath, watching the foliage engulf him. Would Rafe’s gun be any match for what awaited him in the darkness?

Auntie Mary patted her arm. “He’s going to be fine. What happened?”

“A man attacked me from behind while I was getting into my car.”

Auntie Mary gasped and squeezed Dana’s hand. “He’s come after you sooner than I expected.”

“He didn’t come after me, at least not with murder on his mind. He whispered a warning. He may not even be the killer. Maybe it’s some sicko playing a joke. A serial murder investigation brings all the wackos out of the closet.”

With each sensible phrase she uttered, Dana gained a foothold back to reality.

“Did you get a look at him?”

“No. He came at me from behind, grabbed my neck.”

“You didn’t twist around to see him or go for your weapon?” Auntie Mary’s dark eyes seemed to bore into her very soul, and Dana turned away to stare at the bushes where Rafe disappeared.

She didn’t want to tell Auntie Mary about the growling or the yellow eyes or her trancelike state. She shook her head to dispel the images from her youth at Auntie Mary’s knee, listening to the tales of the Ute spirits who took the forms of animals—birds, rabbits, bears and the most powerful of all…the wolf. The hand that grabbed the back of her neck and the voice that uttered the warning belonged to a man…a dangerous one. She may have imagined the rest in her terror.

“My gun was in my purse. I figured if I went for it, he’d kill me.”

Rafe crashed back through the underbrush, saving her from another assault of Auntie Mary’s questions.

He holstered his weapon and brushed bits of leaves and twigs from his shirt. He walked to the porch and balanced one foot on the first step. “Nothing. What happened out here, Dana?”

She recounted her story about dropping her keys and being grabbed from behind, leaving out the wolf bits. She didn’t need Rafe questioning her sanity. “And then he warned me to go away, that I might be next.”

“It’s the killer.” He scooped her back into his arms, and it felt so right. But she was an FBI agent here to do a job, not a love-struck teenager.

“Maybe not.” She disentangled herself from his warmth, his protective embrace. “He might be some nut who knows I’m investigating the murders.”

“Either way, you need protection. Why didn’t you use your weapon?”

Dana didn’t want to tell Rafe about her trancelike feeling. “My gun’s in my purse. I didn’t want to risk going for it.”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “What are they teaching you out there at Langley?”

Dana folded her arms across her chest. “What are you doing here, anyway? I told you I didn’t need a ride into town.”

“I had business on the reservation. I figured I’d pick you up on the way. Emmett’s already in Silverhill. It’s a good thing I came out here.”

Dana turned to Auntie Mary. “Are you going to be safe here tonight? Maybe you should stay with Alice and Gerald next door until I get home.”

“Nonsense.” Auntie Mary’s hands fluttered. “I’m neither young nor pretty. I don’t have anything to worry about. Besides, the aura of danger I see encompasses you, not me.”

“Aura of danger?” Rafe jerked his head up.

Dana shot Auntie Mary a look through narrowed eyes and snorted. “Vague superstitions. That’s all. Just vague superstitions.”

As Rafe placed his hand on her back to guide her toward the car, Dana stared into the blackness and saw…nothing.

Nothing at all.

D ANA HAD A SECRET .

Rafe clicked his seat belt into place, started the engine and glanced to his right. Damn, despite her recent scare, the woman looked good enough to lick up one side and down the other.

Her appearance at the murder scene this morning hadn’t surprised him. Emmett told him she was coming out to assist the other agent, Steve Lubeck, in the investigation of the murders of two Southern Ute women—and then the murderer struck again on the day after her arrival. Coincidence?

After the attack on Dana tonight, the protective instinct that landed him in trouble with her ten years ago surged through his veins once again. She didn’t like being coddled. Maybe that’s why she broke it off with him…he’d smothered her with too much attention. Strong women didn’t like smothering. That’s why his mom left.

Her aunt Mary obviously hadn’t told her about his return to Silverhill, but then why should she? He and Dana had a high school romance that didn’t last. Nothing earth-shattering about that.

At least that’s what he’d been trying to tell himself these past ten years.

Dana sighed and tucked her dark, stylishly cut hair behind her ear. The hairstyle, longer in the front and bobbed in the back, gave her a polished, sophisticated look, as did her silk wool pantsuit and sky-high heels.

But Rafe remembered the leggy girl with the cutoff shorts, bare feet and the long, almost black hair that hung right down to her behind. He recalled how she trailed her hair down his naked body as they made love in the caves above Silverhill, the secrecy of their desire heightening their passion.

He sucked in a breath, jerking the steering wheel of the car.

“You okay?” Dana drew her straight, dark brows over her nose.

“What really happened outside your aunt’s house?” Rafe relaxed his grip on the wheel and shifted forward in his seat. “From what I know of you and from what I’ve heard, you don’t back down from a fight so easily.”

“Easily? The guy came at me from behind and clamped his hand around the back of my neck. I didn’t know if he had a gun or a knife on him, and I didn’t want to find out the hard way.”

“Sorry.” He brushed her arm. “You’re right. You played it safe.”

Too safe. Without visible evidence of a weapon, most trained law enforcement officers would’ve tried to take the guy down. Something didn’t click. He tightened his jaw. Growing up in a household full of lies and secrets taught him to hate deception.

She snorted. “I guess it’s not how a McClintock would’ve handled it, huh?”

Rafe raised his brows. She made McClintock sound like a dirty word. When had she developed such a dislike for his family?

After their relationship during their high school years, she dumped him, even before graduation. Pam, his stepmom, told him Dana probably just dated him for his family’s money and connections and dumped him when she got that full scholarship to Georgetown, but that didn’t make sense. Dana was the smartest girl in school. There was no question she’d get a full ride somewhere. She didn’t need his family’s money or connections.

“I’m not second-guessing you, Dana. We all do what we have to do out there to survive. Just be careful. Maybe you shouldn’t stay on the reservation with your aunt Mary.”

Without turning around, Dana said, “Who appointed you my guardian? Auntie Mary worries enough.”

“I remember.”

She swung around and tilted her head. “Do you?”

“Like it was yesterday.” He continued recklessly, “The blanket I spread out in the cave. The flower petals you showered all over to mask the dank smell. Your sexy, smooth skin under my fingertips.”

“Stop right there.” Dana held up her hands and he captured one in his own.

“Why did you run, Dana? What were you afraid of?” He gripped her hand, running his thumb along her knuckles.

Dana turned her head toward the window and blew out her breath, creating a patch of condensation on the glass. “Your stepmother didn’t approve of our relationship.”

Rafe shrugged. “Yeah, Pam kind of had it in for you. Never stopped me though.”

Dana drew an X through the moisture on the glass. “Rafe, your stepmother is a bigot. She didn’t like me because I was half Ute Indian.”

“Pam’s not my favorite person, either, but nothing she ever said made a damn bit of difference to me. Is that why you left, because my stepmother was a bigot?”

She snatched her hand away and pointed out the window. “Look. Emmett and Steve are already here.”

Rafe clenched his teeth. Looked like Dana didn’t have any interest in replaying their failed romance, or was it just a high school crush?

As soon as he swung his car into the reserved parking space in front of the station and pulled to a stop, Dana pushed open the door and launched out of the car. Whatever she’d feared from him ten years ago, it still existed.

By the time Rafe got out of the car, Dana had already apprised Emmett and Steve of the evening’s activities. Rafe stood at the edge of their circle, listening as Dana finished her story. They didn’t seem to find anything amiss in the fact that she hadn’t tried to nail her attacker. The FBI always did things a little differently from local law enforcement anyway.

Emmett scratched his chin. “Did you see anything out there after the attack, Rafe?”

“A few freshly broken twigs and trampled underbrush, but the road into the reservation doesn’t pass that way. Dana’s assailant either took off on foot into the hills or he doubled back into the reservation.”

Steve swore. “Cocky SOB, isn’t he? FBI agent comes to town and the next day he’s warning her.”

“Wait a minute.” Dana wedged her hands on her hips. “What makes you all so sure this is our serial killer? We all know the nuts and wannabes come out of the woodwork during an investigation like this. Maybe this guy just wants to get close to the action.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But you need to be more aggressive in the use of your weapon, Agent Croft.” Rafe patted his own gun, holstered over his shoulder. “If you’d gone for your gun, we might be interviewing a suspect right now…or bagging a dead body.”

Rolling her eyes, Dana pushed past him. “Well, we’re not doing either, Sheriff McClintock. So why don’t we go inside this little hovel you call a sheriff’s station and get to work.”

Okay, maybe he deserved that after his own cheap shot, but she’d bruised his ego on the ride over here. Rafe shrugged his shoulders at the other men, their mouths hanging open, and followed Dana across the sidewalk to his…hovel.

Once inside, Rafe tossed his hat onto his desk and introduced the others to Brice Kellog, who was manning the station and the phones. The other sheriff’s deputy on duty had patrol. Silverhill couldn’t afford to put more than one officer on patrol at a time and Shelly, their dispatcher and receptionist, worked the day shift.

Like it or not, that’s why they needed the FBI for an investigation like this, but Rafe planned to solve the case before the fibbies called in their big guns. He didn’t want them to upstage him in his own town where he accepted full responsibility for the residents’ safety.

Rafe gestured toward a round table next to the single interview room. “We can work over there.”

Brice shot up from his chair. “Can I sit in on the meeting, Sheriff?”

“You can listen in, but I need you manning the phones and finishing that paperwork.”

A flash of anger distorted Brice’s features for a moment before he dropped his gaze. “Okay.”

Rafe knew the young sheriff’s deputy wanted in on the murder investigation, but he couldn’t afford to spare him from the other duties. “I’ll fill you in later.”

They all dragged their files out of their briefcases and bags and dropped them onto the table.

Emmett started since some local boys found the first body in his jurisdiction—on the reservation. “Lindy Spode grew up here, went to Silverhill High School and worked as a waitress at the Miner’s Café. She liked to party, and she frequented clubs in Durango. Two days before her murder, she’d been club hopping there.”

“Holly Thompson, the victim today, also hung out at clubs in Durango.” Steve hunched forward. “Did you show Lindy’s picture around in Durango?”

“One bartender remembered her, but she was with girlfriends. Came with them, left with them.”

“But this club scene could be a connection.” Dana shuffled through some papers.

“I hate to be the spoiler here, but Alicia Clifton, the second victim. was no club hopper.” Rafe tapped his finger on the desk. “She was in college, had a part-time job and helped out at the reservation school.”

“Great, two party girls and Mother Teresa.” Steve slumped back in his chair.

They continued to discuss the women’s friends, hangouts and ex-boyfriends, and made a plan to share all their information going forward. The FBI’s restraint surprised Rafe. Usually they moved in and took over, but Steve seemed willing to listen to what he and Emmett had to say about the cases. Maybe Steve was relying on Dana to lead the way, since this was Southern Ute territory, but Steve had been with the Indian Country Crimes unit for over fifteen years. He knew his way around a reservation.

If they all continued to cooperate, they’d nail this guy without further interference from the FBI.

“What about the calling card?” Dana bit her lip, her eyes darting around the table. “What’s the significance of the crude Indian headband?”

Emmett splayed his hands on the tabletop and blew out a long breath. “So far he’s been targeting Southern Ute women. Could be one of our own, could be some white guy on a mission.”

Dana hunched her shoulders. “I hope not. Do you hear any rumblings on the reservation, Emmett?”

“There’s a lot of fear, a little anger and some speculation since you came to town, Dana.”

Dana shoved back from the table, almost knocking her chair to the floor. “Is there a bathroom around here, Sheriff?”

“Around the corner.” Rafe pointed to the hallway on the other side of his desk.

As Dana turned the corner, Rafe swiveled his head back toward Emmett. “What speculation are you talking about?”

Emmett rubbed his hands on the thighs of his jeans and shot a glance toward the bathroom. “You know Dana’s gifted?”

“Sure. She was the smartest girl in school, valedictorian even.” Rafe scratched his chin. Did the entire reservation think Dana was going to catch this killer because she was valedictorian?

“I don’t mean gifted that way. The Southern Ute, like most Native American tribes, have shamans. They can see the future, cast spells and communicate with the spirit world. In our tradition, we call this having the gift and those who have it, gifted. Only women are gifted in our tribe, and it’s passed down through families. The females in Dana’s family are all gifted, but Dana chose to reject that part of her heritage.”

Rafe’s brows shot up. Maybe that’s why Dana left him. She saw a vision of their future together and it stunk. “She never told me any of that.”

“She wouldn’t. Her stepfather Lenny exploited the gift in Dana’s mother by having her go on the road to tell fortunes and cast love spells. That didn’t sit well with Dana.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it didn’t, especially after that drunk driver struck and killed her mother at one of those roadside stands.” He’d heard about the accident when he was a kid, but he didn’t know Dana then. She attended the school at the reservation until she enrolled at Silverhill High.

During their senior year in high school, he believed they’d shared everything about themselves. Apparently not. What other secrets had Dana kept from him?

“Anyway,” Emmett continued, “folks on the reservation, who know about Dana’s gift, are wondering if she’s going to use it to solve these crimes.”

“Did you know about this?” Rafe tilted his chin toward Steve, who looked as mystified as Rafe felt. Something else. Fear, like a flame, leaped in Rafe’s chest, and he crossed his arms to squelch it.

“Emmett,” he began slowly, “does everyone on the reservation know Dana’s gifted?”

“Maybe not the younger ones, but the elders all know it because they know the Redbird family has the gift.”

Rafe swore and pounded the table with his fist. “You need to keep that piece of information under wraps as much as you can. If it gets out to the general public that Dana can read minds or see into the future and our killer finds out, she’ll be in more danger than ever.”

His words hung in the air as the clip of Dana’s heels echoed down the hallway. She stopped at the table and rested her hands on the back of her chair.

“I see Emmett’s been spinning Native American ghost stories.”

Steve said, “Why didn’t you tell me you had this gift, Dana?”

She snorted, her nostrils flaring in anger. “I know you have a little Cherokee blood in you, Steve, but do you really believe all that spiritual claptrap?”

“The FBI has used psychics before, and we’ve gotten some valuable information from them. You should’ve told me.”

“Okay, stop.” Dana held up her hands. “I don’t have the gift. I’ve never been able to predict a lottery number, I can’t cast spells and I don’t see dead people.” She lifted one shoulder and said, “I guess it skipped me.”

Rafe stood up next to her and grabbed her hand. “Does everyone on the reservation believe that?”

Her eyes widened as she grasped his meaning. “I—I don’t know. The Redbirds never made a big deal out of it, except my stepfather. The older folks know, but it’s not something I ever discussed…with anyone.”

“Don’t start now. We don’t need this psycho believing you can identify him through dreams.” Rafe squeezed her hand, resisting an urge to pull her into an embrace. She’d welcome that about as much as she had welcomed that trip down memory lane.

At least she didn’t yank away from him. She briefly leaned against his arm and said, “It’s not something I bring up in everyday conversation.”

Standing up, Steve unzipped his briefcase and slid his files inside. Without looking up, he asked, “Have you ever tried to use your powers of clairvoyance, Dana?”

She disentangled her hand from Rafe’s and smacked it on the table. “I told you, I don’t have that ability.”

Steve cleared his throat. “From what I understand, it’s something you need to develop and practice. You have to make yourself susceptible.”

“Well, I’m not making myself susceptible.”

“If it could be useful for this case, if it could save some lives?” Emmett shoved to his feet and gripped the edge of the table.

The three of them created a semicircle around Dana. She pulled her shoulders back and widened her stance, but her lower lip trembled. Rafe’s protective instincts shot into overdrive.

“Forget it. Dana told you she can’t see into the future or read minds. Are you boys so afraid of a little old-fashioned detective work that you have to rely on the mystical dreams of a reluctant psychic?”

Everyone around the table let out a sigh, and Steve rapped his knuckles on the table. “You’re right, Sheriff. Dana and I are going out to Holly’s house tomorrow. Since her mother was out of town today, I had to give her the bad news over the phone.”

Emmett coughed. “And I’m following up on that lead from one of Lindy’s coworkers about the customer who kept requesting Lindy’s table at the restaurant.”

Dana shot him a grateful look from beneath lowered lashes, and Rafe squeezed her hand again.

They stepped outside the station, and Emmett put on his hat and said, “I noticed you drove in with Rafe, Dana. I’m going back out to the reservation. Can I give you a ride back to your auntie Mary’s?”

“Sure.” She glanced at Rafe. “Thanks for the ride over and…”

“My pleasure.” Rafe took her hand, running his thumb across her smooth skin. He knew she wanted to thank him for standing up for her in there and not allowing Steve and Emmett to bully her into using some powers she didn’t even think she possessed.

He watched through narrowed eyes as Dana climbed into Emmett’s patrol car. It felt natural and right to be Dana’s protector again. And if it ever got out that she could identify the killer through supernatural powers, Rafe would do everything in his power to shield her from danger.

He didn’t have the gift, but he had a gun and he’d go to hell and back to keep Dana Croft safe.

Chapter Three

“Guess who I saw last night?” Rafe shook the container of orange juice with one hand as he took a bite of toast.

His brother, Rod, grunted from behind his newspaper, and his stepmother, Pam, raised her eyebrows as she poured coffee. “Who?” Pam asked.

“Dana Croft.”

Rod answered by rustling his paper and cursing. Rafe was pretty sure the curse had nothing to do with Dana. His brother only half listened to what anyone said unless it pertained to the ranch.

Pam responded with a curse, too. She’d poured too much coffee in the cup and the steaming liquid had run over the sides and pooled in the saucer.

Rafe grabbed a dish towel and tossed it to her. “Do you remember Dana? She went off to Georgetown, went to the FBI Academy at Quantico, and now she’s working in the FBI’s Indian Country Crimes unit. She’s in town to investigate those three murders.”

Pam’s brow furrowed as she dropped the dish towel on the counter to soak up the coffee. “Dana Croft?”

“You remember Dana, Pam.” Rod folded his newspaper and shoved back from the table. “She’s the pretty Ute girl you tried so hard to pry away from Rafe during his senior year.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Pam slid the wet towel into the sink. “I never interfered with you boys.”

Rafe clenched his jaw as Rod rolled his eyes at him before exiting the pot he had just stirred.

Looked like Dana was right about Pam if Rod had noticed. His stepmother probably told Dana to back off when they were in high school, but the fact that Dana actually did back off shocked the hell out of him. He’d meant it when he told her he never knew her to run from a fight.

Unless the fight concerned something she didn’t really want.

Rotating his shoulders, he kicked his boots onto the chair Rod vacated and leaned back. Dana had flitted across his mind a few times in the past several years; why was he allowing her to take up residence now like a big, white elephant in the corner of his brain? Correction. A dark, sleek panther. A sexy cat of a woman.

He gulped his juice. Once they caught this killer and wrapped up the investigation, she’d go back to whatever kind of life she had in Denver. And that suited him just fine. As long as he could keep her safe while she worked the case.

Pam dropped a single rose into the small glass vase on Dad’s breakfast tray. Gripping the handles of the tray, she hoisted it from the counter and turned toward Rafe. “You don’t believe Rod’s nonsense about that girl, do you? With your father’s health deteriorating, Rod’s had more than he can handle at the ranch. He’s always angry about something, and has a sarcastic tongue.”

Rafe shrugged. Even at eighteen years old, Dana could stand up to Pam…if she’d wanted to. “That was a long time ago. How’s Dad this morning?”

“The flu hit him hard, and it takes him longer and longer to recover from an illness. Doc Parker thinks Ralph needs to retire to a different climate.”