In the newest Coltons of Texas romance, a woman framed for a heinous crime falls for the man who must bring her safely home

Wrongfully accused of masterminding her adoptive father’s disappearance, Piper Colton needs answers. So she leaves the family ranch behind to embark on a dangerous mission...but she’s not alone for long. Her brother enlists the help of Cord Maxwell—a local bounty hunter—to ensure his sister’s safe return. But Cord has an agenda of his own, and it’s not just to avoid falling for the Colton beauty! He promises to help her in exchange if she’ll help him track down his runaway niece—and stay with him. It’s an offer she cannot resist and a powerful attraction she cannot deny...

“Are you flirting?”

Though Piper colored, she didn’t look away. “Maybe. Maybe not. I’m trying to find out where we stand with each other. I also noticed you didn’t answer the question.”

Cord laughed; he couldn’t help it. “I’d have to be dead not to find you attractive,” he told her. “But don’t worry, I won’t let it get in the way of the job I have to do. Or finding Renee. Both are too important to me.”

Color still high, she finally smiled back. “Fair enough. Now how about we call it a night and regroup in the morning?”

Though it was still early, he nodded. “Okay. Good night.”

She sighed. “I’m probably going to regret this, but...”

Before he could ask what she meant, she crossed the space between them, grabbed him and pulled him down for a kiss. Her mouth moved across his, nothing tentative about it. A wave of lust swamped him. Damn if it wasn’t the most erotic kiss he’d ever shared.

Standing stock-still, he let her nibble and explore, until he couldn’t take it any longer.

* * *

We hope you enjoy this dramatic series—

The Coltons of Texas: Finding love and buried family secrets in the Lone Star State...

Runaway Colton

Karen Whiddon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KAREN WHIDDON started weaving fanciful tales for her younger brothers at the age of eleven. Amid the gorgeous Catskill Mountains, then the majestic Rocky Mountains, she fueled her imagination with the natural beauty surrounding her. Karen now lives in north Texas, writes full-time and volunteers for a boxer dog rescue. She shares her life with her hero of a husband and four to five dogs, depending on if she is fostering.

You can email Karen at KWhiddon1@aol.com. Fans can also check out her website, www.karenwhiddon.com.

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As always, to my beloved husband, Lonnie.

You are the inspiration for every love story I write.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

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

Chapter 17

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

“I was framed.” Back ramrod straight, clenching her hands into fists so her adoptive brother and sister wouldn’t see how badly they shook, Piper Colton kept her voice perfectly level. “You have to realize that.”

“Framed.” Marceline Colton snorted, making her elegant, gem-encrusted earrings swing. “Right. Piper, you were arrested. The police wouldn’t have arrested you unless they had sufficient evidence. I think finding Eldridge’s bloody shirt in your closet might have been the final clue.”

“I saved up to buy that shirt for him one Christmas when I was sixteen. You know that.”

“Now it’s evidence,” Marceline continued, her voice as icy as her pale blue, flawlessly made-up eyes. “Apparently enough evidence for them.” She sneered, her bright red lipstick a bright slash of color in her alabaster face. “Where’s your trademark optimism now?”

“It’s all circumstantial. They don’t even have a body.” Piper spoke with confidence, despite the fact that her own family’s suspicion hurt her heart.

“I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before they find the body,” Marceline declared. Even at home, every strand of her golden-blond hair appeared perfect. When Piper had been younger, she’d been envious of Marceline’s movie star appearance. Now, understanding the amount of work that went into maintaining that look, it only made Piper feel tired. Plus, Marceline might be gorgeous on the outside, but her inner self was an entirely different matter.

“That’s true,” Fowler Colton agreed, his cold blue eyes intense. As usual, he wore one of his custom suits and perfectly pressed black Stetsons. “Come on, Piper. You can tell us. Did you kill Eldridge?”

Though Piper wanted to double over at the amount of pain his question caused, by sheer strength of will she managed to remain expressionless. Her natural optimism hadn’t fled—it had just gone into temporary hiding. “How can you ask me such a thing? Why on earth would I murder my own father?”

“Adoptive father,” Marceline reminded her. “You’re not a real Colton, after all.”

As if she could forget. Not possible, with Marceline finding a way to remind her of that fact at least once a day. Piper figured this was Marceline’s way of dealing with her own insecurity, since Marceline hadn’t been born a Colton, either. However, since her mother, Whitney, was actually married to Eldridge Colton, Marceline clearly figured that put her one step above Piper, who’d been orphaned when Whitney and Eldridge adopted her.

“Think of what you’re doing to poor Whitney,” Fowler said, the disapproval in his voice matching the disgusted expression on his face. “She took you in, adopted you, cared for you, and you repay her by killing her husband. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Piper.”

Piper opened her mouth and then closed it. She had the strangest urge to laugh, but reined it in lest they label her insane, as well. “You know me, Fowler. How could you think I’d kill anyone, let alone Eldridge? I won’t even squash a spider.”

Marceline snorted. “Well, obviously this time you must have figured you had more to gain.”

Looking from one to the other, Piper shook her head. “No matter how many times I tell you I didn’t do it, you’ll never believe my innocence, will you?”

“Nope,” Marceline responded promptly. She and Fowler exchanged identical smug smiles, making Piper wonder if they’d high-five each other next. She’d long ago given up on trying to figure out why the two of them disliked her so much. At least she still had T.C., Reid and Alanna, her other siblings. She’d bet they’d believe her.

“You know I’ve been mourning Eldridge,” Piper began, hoping to try again. “I love—loved—him. Why would anyone believe I’d harm him?”

“Maybe you know something we don’t.” Marceline smirked. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with him. Did you convince him to change his will and leave you a lot of money?”

The idea was so ludicrous Piper gasped. “Are you kidding me?”

“Not hardly.” Marceline watched her like a hawk watching a mouse. “You’ve always envied those of us who are better off than you.”

“I give up.” Piper threw up her hands. “Clearly, there’s nothing I can say that will make you believe I’m not a killer.”

“Convince us,” Fowler said. “Give us the reason that shirt was in your closet.”

That was easy. “It was planted.”

“By whom?”

“I don’t know,” Piper cried. “I need your help to find out who would do such a thing and why.”

“I don’t believe you.” Marceline curled her brightly painted lips in disgust.

“Neither do I.” Fowler and Marceline exchanged knowing glances before he turned back to Piper. “And if your own family thinks you’re guilty,” Fowler continued, “how are you ever going to convince a jury that you’re not?”

Piper stared, praying her eyes didn’t reveal the hurt. She felt as though she’d been punched in the stomach. Leave it to Fowler. Nothing like going for the gusto. Except as he usually managed to do, Fowler had hit upon the crux of the problem.

Because he was right. If she didn’t take matters into her own hands, she’d be going to jail for a crime she hadn’t committed. It would be up to her to find the real killer and quickly, before her hearing.

“Cat got your tongue?” The vitriol in Marceline’s voice made Piper wonder for the hundredth time what she’d ever done to make her older adoptive sister despise her.

Like Marceline, Fowler waited, his gaze hooded and secretive. As long as she’d known him, the eldest Colton had constantly worked every angle, pulling invisible strings behind the scenes to help him obtain his goal, whatever that might be.

Still, they were family and their accusations felt like a knife straight through her heart.

Looking at the two people who should have been on her side, even if blood didn’t form any ties, Piper finally understood she was wasting her time. She could explain and rationalize until she turned blue, but Marceline and Fowler had already made up their minds. They believed her arrest had been warranted. They actually thought her capable of murder—not just murder—but the slaying of someone she loved.

This knowledge hurt more than she would have believed possible. While Marceline had never been kind to her, to consider her a murderess?

In that instant, Piper realized what she would have to do. For a person who always, without exception, did the right thing, running would be a bitter pill to swallow. But better than going to prison for a crime she hadn’t committed.

Even worse, she hadn’t gotten a chance to fully mourn Eldridge yet. Of course, until she actually saw his body, she refused to believe he was dead.

Too bad the police didn’t think the same way.

Pushing away the sheer terror turning her blood to ice, she managed to incline her head, hopefully gracefully, as she moved toward the stairs. “I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me.”

Though both siblings continued to glare at her, neither responded. She didn’t dare breathe until she’d gotten out of their sight.

All her life she’d known if she wanted to get something done, she’d have to do it herself. This temporary snag would be no exception. Since no one else seemed inclined to locate the real killer, she’d simply have to do it herself. Even if she had to break the law to find the truth.

Once she reached her room, she hurried inside and locked the door. Then, she dug her old backpack from her closet and began to fill it with her clothes. She took three pairs of jeans, five long-sleeved shirts and two short-sleeved, underwear, bras and socks. She’d recently purchased a new pair of sneakers and hadn’t worn them yet, so they went on top, along with black flip-flops.

Removing her slip-on flats, she put on socks and her favorite pair of boots. Texas weather this time of year could be mercurial. Heat waves and cold snaps made it difficult to predict what she’d need, so she took a little of everything.

Tying a lightweight jacket around her waist, she gathered up her favorite cosmetics and dropped that bag into her oversize purse.

Now, she’d need to slip out of the house and get to the bank. Though she hated to empty her savings account, especially since she’d gotten so close to having enough to open her own business, she didn’t see that she had a choice.

Not if she wanted to stay free long enough to find out who really had kidnapped or killed Eldridge Colton.

* * *

If the day got any worse, Cord Maxwell figured he’d have to close up the office and go home. Not only had he failed to turn up a single lead on his missing niece, Renee, but after he paid the electric bill, he wouldn’t have too much leftover for food.

“Maybe you’ll have to start sharing your dog food with me,” he told Truman, the mangy mutt he’d rescued from the Kaufman County shelter a year ago. In pure Truman form, the skinny dog didn’t even bother to open his eyes.

Earlier today, when Cord had taken Truman for his midmorning walk, some snooty woman in designer clothes had sniffed and called Truman ugly. It had taken every bit of restraint Cord possessed not to tell her off. Instead, he’d managed a mild “Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder, now isn’t it?” Then, unable to resist a scornful sweeping glance that hopefully told her he found her lacking, he led Truman away. Cord couldn’t understand how anyone couldn’t see the beauty in Truman’s caramel-colored eyes and jaunty plumed tail.

At least he had a forty-pound bag of Truman’s favorite lamb-and-rice dog food. Cord would go hungry if he had to, but his dog would always be fed.

Money again. Everything circled back around to that. He’d been in tight spots before and made it through by using credit cards to fill in the gaps. If he had to, he’d do that again.

Except for the one debt that required cash. Today he had to go visit Lorraine Berens, the once-wealthy widow his father had scammed out of money. He’d gone to her upon learning what his father had done and sworn to make it right. But this time, instead of making his usual payment of restitution, he’d have to explain his sad financial situation and promise to make it up to her as soon as he could.

Without any real work looming on the horizon, he wasn’t actually sure when that would be. He’d been so consumed with his search for Renee that he’d turned down too many jobs without thinking of the consequences.

Sinking down into his worn leather desk chair, he stared at the too-silent phone and willed it to ring. If only Renee would call and let him know she was all right. At least maybe then he could stop his gut from constantly churning.

Renee had been a surly sixteen-year-old when she’d come to live with him after the death of both her parents in a drunk driving accident. Her mother, Denice, had always been a hard partier, which had gotten worse when she’d married Joshua Barnes, who played bass guitar in a band. She’d quit when she’d gotten pregnant, but by the time Renee turned two, Denice had gone right back to her old ways. Cord rarely heard from her. She’d been driving drunk when she’d caused the accident that had killed her and Joshua and left a rebellious teenager an orphan.

Cord had tried—he really had—but he’d had no idea how to be a father to a sixteen-year-old who thought she was too cool for him and his life in a boring small town. His attempts at setting boundaries and rules had come too little too late and were laughed at and scorned.

For two years, every time they’d argued, Renee had told him she couldn’t wait until she turned eighteen. She’d given him plenty of warning, he’d give her that. But still, he’d been surprised as hell when he’d come home from work to find her meager belongings had vanished, along with her.

In that instant, he’d seen her future. He’d tried to help his older sister, but failed. He couldn’t let her daughter down. He had to find Renee and save her from herself.

Looking around the small, wood-paneled office from where he operated his business, he knew he’d risk everything he had to accomplish that.

He could almost see Sam shaking his head. Sam Ater had started S.A. Enterprises, Private Investigation and Fugitive Recovery. Years ago, when Cord had been assigned to him on a high school internship, Sam had taught the teenager everything there was to know. Cord would forever be grateful for Sam, who’d seen something in an insecure, poor teenager back in the day. Sam had taken Cord in and taught him the business. Unlike many of his classmates, Cord hadn’t the funds or the desire to go to college. The military held no appeal, either, but thanks to Sam, none of that mattered. Once Cord graduated, Sam had offered him a job.

Cord had a place to go after high school. Sam had not only given him a job, but a lifelong career.

Cord had gotten licensed and found his true vocation. He’d enjoyed going to work every single day. The business Sam had built, a respected fugitive recovery agency as well as private investigation firm, was an operation that not only operated within the law, but had an 89 percent success rate, something that placed them in the top tier of their industry.

The two men had formed a team. Cord had considered Sam a friend as well as his boss.

Sam had passed away a couple years ago from lung cancer, shortly before Renee had arrived. It had been a quick death, two weeks after he’d been diagnosed.

Somehow Cord kept the business running and had been there, helping his friend as much as he was able. The day Sam died, Cord had closed S.A. Enterprises and gone fishing, since he’d promised Sam he would. Well, more beer drinking than fishing, though he’d kept a pole in the water. He’d mourned Sam out at the lake, saluted him and the moon with a beer can, and returned to work the next day sober, sad and hungover.

Sam left everything to Cord. Cord had been honored, realizing he’d had mighty big boots to fill.

Thinking of his old friend brought back the sense of loss. He had to wonder, what would Sam think if he could see him now?

While Sam would never have suspected Cord would let the finances get this bad, Cord knew the old man would have understood Cord’s need to find the runaway teen. Both men knew firsthand the kind of evil that walked in the world.

Still, if he didn’t want to lose the business Sam had spent years building, Cord needed to figure out a way to keep it running while he searched for his niece.

Sighing, he leafed through his notebook and reviewed all the places Renee wasn’t. He always kept meticulous notes.

The names and phone numbers of the jobs he’d turned away were in a manila folder on the corner of his desk. He couldn’t say how many times he’d eyed the damn thing and thought about opening it. Maybe one or two of them might still need his services. Though he’d bet they’d all hired somebody else. The problem was, he needed a fairly quick and simple job that wouldn’t interfere with his search for Renee.

He grabbed a can of diet cola from the mini-fridge and popped the top. Taking a long swig, he knew he’d better get out of the office and take another shot at locating Renee. He’d broaden his horizons this time. Since he’d already checked all over town, he’d head toward Dallas. Since Dallas was a big city, the sheer size and number of suburbs would complicate things. He figured he’d search suburb by suburb first, hoping Renee had found a waitressing job in one of the smaller communities.

The front door opened, hinges squeaking. Though Sam had always kept them oiled with WD-40, Cord had stopped after Sam died. He actually liked the sound. He figured it let him know when someone entered or left the office.

A well-dressed man stepped inside. His business suit looked custom-made and expensive, just like the ostrich skin cowboy boots he wore on his feet.

“Cord Maxwell?” the man asked, glancing around the sparsely furnished room. “I’m—”

“I know who you are.” Cord got to his feet, taking one more swing of his Coke before placing it on his desk. “Fowler Colton, CEO of Colton Incorporated and Eldridge Colton’s oldest son.”

Fowler nodded, no doubt accustomed to being recognized. He took another step closer, his carefully blank expression revealing both nothing and too much. “I’d like to hire your services.”

Surprised, especially since someone with Fowler’s money could hire a top-notch firm from a bigger city like Dallas or Fort Worth, Cord waited to hear the rest. It’d probably be the kind of job no one else would want to do.

Fowler cleared his throat. “Before I tell you what—who—I need you to find, I’ll require your promise to keep this confidential.”

“That goes without saying.” Crossing his arms, Cord realized the other man didn’t remember him at all, despite the years he spent on the ranch when his father had been a ranch hand. Of course not, since even when he’d been younger, Fowler had always given the impression that he paid no attention to those he considered beneath him. And poor children of ranch hands, such as Cord, definitely fell into that category.

“I need you to find Piper.” For the first time since he’d shown up, raw emotion flashed across Fowler’s aristocratic features. Guilt, Cord realized, as his gut twisted. What the hell did Fowler have to feel guilty about?

And then Fowler’s words hit him. Find Piper?

“I heard she was arrested in connection with Eldridge’s murder.” Cord kept his tone casual, even though the instant he’d heard the news he’d known something was horribly wrong. The Piper he’d known as a kid wouldn’t even hurt a fly. No way he believed she could have actually killed another human being, especially not her adoptive father. He couldn’t think she would have changed so drastically, even though it had been years since he’d seen her.

“Yes. She had to spend the night in the county jail. Some of our siblings got together and posted bail and brought her home.”

So far so good. Even though he’d said “some of our siblings,” which meant Fowler himself hadn’t been involved. Though he wondered why, Cord couldn’t really say he was surprised. Fowler had never been big on family loyalty. Hell, as far as Cord could tell, the other man didn’t have a single loyal bone in his body.

“Marceline and I were pretty rough on her,” Fowler continued, his thin lips twisting. “We sort of barraged her.”

“About what?”

Now Fowler wouldn’t meet Cord’s gaze. “We told her we were convinced she’s guilty.”

Now this was getting interesting. “Are you?”

“Convinced she’s guilty?” Fowler lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug. “I don’t know. I mean, she could be. But then again, Eldridge didn’t have a lot of friends.”

Like father, like son.

“I feel horrible,” Fowler continued, though the lack of inflection in his tone made Cord question whether he meant it. “Marceline can be brutal when she fixates on something. She showed no mercy. Piper appeared pretty upset. She usually looks on the bright side of everything, but not this time. I think we’re the reason she ran.”

Ran? “What?” Cord couldn’t contain his shock. “Are you telling me Piper jumped bail?” Which meant her siblings would be out serious money if she didn’t show up in court.

Fowler nodded, grimacing. “Yes. No one’s seen hide nor hair of her since she got home from jail.”

“Since she got out of jail.” While Cord hated parroting back what the other man said, he simply could not take all this in. He never would have believed Piper Colton, rich, all-American girl next door, would in a million years do something like this.

Except she had. At least, according to Fowler.

“Okay.” Wary now, Cord dragged his hand through his hair. “Why are you here, Fowler? If you’re asking me to find Piper—”

“I am. You are a fugitive recovery agent, aren’t you? I’ve done my research. Not only are you highly respected in the criminal court community, but your success rate is 89 percent. And I’m willing to pay well.”

Of course he was. Since it just so happened that Cord really needed the money. “Our standard fees are—”

Again Fowler cut him off. “That doesn’t matter. I’m willing to give you double what you usually charge.”

“How much was her bail?”

Fowler recoiled, peering at Cord down the length of his impressive nose. “I fail to see how that concerns you.”

“Seriously?” Somehow, Cord kept from snorting. “If you did your research as you claim, you’d know my fee is 10 percent of the bail.”

“Her bail was set at fifty thousand.”

“Which means you’ll pay me five thousand. Up front.”

“No.” Fowler shook his head. “Like I said, I’m willing to double that.”

Though Cord knew he should keep his mouth shut, he didn’t. Fowler wasn’t the type to throw away money. “Why?”

“This is a delicate matter. Piper may be a fugitive and I don’t really know if she’s guilty or innocent, but she’s a Colton. No matter what. This matter must be kept quiet.” Fowler cleared his throat and lifted his chin.

Suddenly, even though he had past-due bills to pay, Cord didn’t want to get involved. When he’d been a kid on the ranch, Piper had always been kind to him, even though he’d grown up shabby. “Look,” he told the other man. “My niece is missing. She ran away a few weeks ago, right after she turned eighteen. I’m sorry, but my first priority is finding her. I don’t have time to hunt down Piper.”

“I’ll offer you triple.”

Fifteen thousand dollars. Nothing to sneeze at, but since most of the fugitives Cord searched for had bails set at one hundred thousand, he regularly made ten grand a case. This still wasn’t enough to divert Cord’s attention from locating Renee. He wasn’t sure any amount would be enough.

After all, it was his fault she’d taken off. He’d done a piss-poor job of looking after her when she’d come to live with him. “I’m sorry, but I can’t,” Cord began.

“Fine.” The snap in Fowler’s cultured voice warred with the grudging respect in his eyes. “You drive a hard bargain. Thirty thousand dollars. Cash. Up front.”

Damn. No one paid up front. Usually, the fee was paid only once the fugitive had been apprehended.

Though Cord wasn’t sure if Fowler was playing games, he knew he had no choice. Plus, while he was searching for Piper, he could continue the hunt to find his niece, which had turned out to be more difficult than he’d anticipated. Renee had no money and nowhere to go, yet he couldn’t seem to locate even a hint of her whereabouts. “I accept,” he said, before the other man could change his mind. “I’ll locate Piper. What do you want me to do with her once I find her?”

“Bring her home immediately, of course. Everyone is really worried about her. We’re all willing to help in whatever way we can. Let her know I’m willing to pay all her legal fees.”

While Fowler’s tone sounded earnest, something just felt off.

None of his business. “I don’t want the entire amount before I do anything. You can pay 10 percent up front,” Cord said.

Though Fowler’s derisive expression said he thought Cord was an idiot, he nodded. “Agreed.”

After the two men shook hands, Fowler pulled a thick wad of money out of his suit pocket. While Cord was processing this, Fowler peeled off thirty one-hundred dollar bills and handed them over.

Though he knew to do so would be goading the other man, Cord couldn’t help himself. Slowly, methodically, he began counting the bills out loud. “And three thousand,” he finished, pinning Fowler with his gaze. “The balance is payable immediately once I locate her.”

“How long will this take?” Fowler didn’t bother to keep the impatience out of his voice. “Thanksgiving is in a couple of weeks. I’d like to have the entire family at the table.”

“When’s the court date?” Cord countered. “She’ll be back well in advance of when she’s supposed to appear in court.”

At the question, the uptight businessman actually appeared uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and tugging at the collar of his starched white shirt. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “But I will find out and get back to you.”

“Sounds good.” Ready for Fowler to leave, Cord headed for the door. He turned the knob and pulled it open. “Thanks for coming. Once you get me that court date, I’ll give you weekly updates on the search.”

Fowler frowned. He didn’t move. “Weekly? I’d prefer daily.”

“Not possible. I can’t spare that kind of time. It would take away from the actual searching. I’ll call you once a week, more if I have news.”

“Fine.” Fowler stalked to the door. “And remember, keep this quiet. No one needs to know about this, no one but the two of us.”

Chapter 2

It took a lot of effort—head up, shoulders back, carefree smile—but Piper Colton figured she looked pretty damn confident, the way a Colton should. Not at all like she felt inside, all shaky and nervous, her heart pounding as loud as a runaway colt’s hooves. Usually, she’d learned if she pretended self-assurance, she felt that way, too. What had once been a coping mechanism had become a way of life.

So what if she was often accused of wearing rose-colored glasses? She figured seeing the good in the world was much better than constantly looking for gloom and doom.

Except now. Getting arrested—finding out when they placed the handcuffs on her wrists that this wasn’t some kind of prank her brother T.C. had cooked up for her—had given her resilience a severe beating. So much so that she scarcely recognized herself. And now she found herself back to pretending to be the person she’d believed she’d become.

And soon she’d be a criminal for real. Ack. If she had a choice, she’d rather be doing almost anything than this—emptying her savings account so she could stay untraceable while on the run. On the lam. Usually, a turn of phrase could make her chuckle. Not today.

Approaching the bank counter, she summed up a smile for Colin Jameson, who’d recently graduated from high school and landed a job as a teller. He blushed when she smiled at him, but handled the transaction without a lot of questions, which was exactly what she wanted. If she’d gotten Mrs. Bell, the older teller would have peppered Piper with questions.

Accepting the white envelope containing her hard earned cash, Piper tucked it in her purse and turned to go.

To her relief and surprise she made it to her car without anyone stopping her. Once inside, she locked the door and took deep breaths, trying to stop shaking. She didn’t know why she felt so guilty. It wasn’t like she was robbing the bank or something.

Starting the car, she carefully backed out of the parking space, waving at Mr. Gumpert as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Carefully keeping to the speed limit, she drove toward Dallas, even though she had no intention of staying there. At least not yet.

Only once she left the town limits behind did her heart rate slow. Though she knew she needed to make a strategy, truthfully she hadn’t thought much beyond getting every penny of her cash. Now with that accomplished, she needed to deal with making some sort of practical plan. Starting with where to go.

Hiding in plain sight would be great, but not so much in a smallish town where her entire family was well-known. Since she wanted to try and find out who’d really killed Eldridge, she had to stay close. Not Dallas, since the hustle and bustle and huge size of the place made her nervous—once a country girl, always a country girl—but maybe one of the closer suburbs, near enough that running into the city wouldn’t be a big deal, but far enough that she could go unnoticed.

Since Eldridge had operated mostly from downtown Dallas, she knew she’d have to start her investigation there.

Especially since the sheriff’s office hadn’t done much of a job investigating. Once they’d made up their minds Piper was the killer, they’d stopped looking for anyone else.

She still couldn’t figure out what she’d done that had made her a suspect. In fact, when the two deputies had shown up to arrest her, at first she’d believed someone was playing a joke on her. The cold bite of the steel handcuffs had made her realize otherwise.

Still, trying to wrap her mind around her circumstances made her feel ill. Someone, somewhere, truly believed her capable of murdering the only man who’d been a father to her.

As far as she knew, her court date hadn’t been set yet. She had until then to come up with the real killer or she’d need to have a better alibi than the truth if she wanted to stay out of prison for a crime she hadn’t committed. Though truthfully, the idea of fleeing to Mexico was tempting, there was no way she was leaving T.C., Reid and Alanna on the hook for the $50,000 bail they’d posted for her. They’d lose all of that if she didn’t show up in court. No matter what, she knew she couldn’t do that to them. They’d believed in her and helped her when she needed it the most. She’d never forget that. Somehow, someday, she’d pay them back.

Pulling into a fast-food restaurant on the outskirts of town, she parked. Before she did anything else, she needed to have time to gather her thoughts. Though she’d been saving for close to a year to start her own business, she hated to blow through her savings if she didn’t have to. She refused to let go of the hope she might still open her Piper’s Funky Furniture store one day. Her hobby of fixing up and painting old junked-out furniture bright colors had taken off. Friends, and then friends of those friends, had purchased pieces from her online store. Enough of them to make her realize she needed to have a brick-and-mortar shop of her own. She’d actually saved enough to get started and had begun making plans to find a spot to rent after the holidays. She’d even accumulated some inventory—a couple of chests of drawers and a lovely china cabinet that she’d painted turquoise.

Now all of that would be put on hold. Hopefully, not permanently.

First things first. As a member of the Colton family, she was often recognized. She’d need a disguise, like a new haircut and color, maybe a pair of oversize eyeglasses.

And then she’d need a place to stay. Her best bet would be to find a cabin for rent, one of those summer places where prices would be slashed since it was off-season. She thought she’d head toward Lake Whitney, after checking on her phone and learning of just such a place.

Item number one. Alter her appearance. And no going about it halfway. She’d seen a trendy little salon outside of Terrell. Fingering her long, silky locks, she grinned. She’d always wondered what it would be like to have super short hair. Looked like she was about to find out.

Once she’d been seated in the stylist’s chair, Piper gave the young woman instructions to give her an edgy cut that would be easy to maintain. She also requested hot-pink tips, though she asked to keep her pale blond hair color.

An hour later, staring at herself in the salon mirror, Piper laughed out loud. She could barely recognize herself. “I should have done this years ago,” she remarked.

“I agree.” The quiet stylist brought a mirror around to show Piper the back. “The cut brings out your cheekbones and makes your eyes appear huge!”

“And I love the pink tips.” Odd how such a simple thing as a haircut could make Piper feel like herself again. She paid in cash, tipping exactly 20 percent, though she wished she could give more. For now, she had to be frugal with her money. This was all she had until she found out the truth about what had happened to Eldridge and exonerated herself.

All she had to do was find the true murderer. Since she had few illusions that finding Eldridge’s real killer would be easy, maybe she should hire a private investigator. Could she afford that? Or could she afford not to?

She thought back to a guy she’d once known. Cord Maxwell. He’d lived on the ranch as a kid since his father had been a ranch hand. Though she’d lost track of him over the years, she’d heard he’d gone to work with Sam Ater as a PI.

Walking out of the salon a good seven inches of hair lighter, she shook her head, loving the way air felt on her naked neck. She’d never worn her hair this short, nor had layers. She had to say, the tousled look and different colors made her feel like a totally different person. Since that’s exactly how she needed to look, she considered it money well spent. All she needed now was a pair of oversize eyeglasses and hopefully no one would look twice. She drove to Walmart, walked inside and purchased a pair of frames with clear, nonprescription lenses. Slipping them on, she caught sight of herself in her car window and grinned. Perfect.

Now she’d taken care of a disguise, which hopefully would buy her time to search for information about where Eldridge had been and who he’d seen the day he’d supposedly been killed. The one thing she didn’t understand was how the police could assume he’d been murdered when they didn’t even have a body. Since they couldn’t seem to find one, she believed quite strongly that Eldridge wasn’t dead.

The bloody shirt needed explaining. Who hated her enough to try and frame her for murder?

Rubbing her hands together, trademark optimism back in place, she needed to decide what to do next.

She had a small problem. Okay, maybe a big one. Despite watching lots of detective and true crime shows on TV, she actually had no idea how to start searching for Eldridge. If the police couldn’t find him, how could she?

Of course, she didn’t think the sheriff and his deputies had searched much once they’d decided to arrest her.

Her brief consideration of hiring Cord Maxwell came back around. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea. She needed a professional. Someone who did this sort of thing all the time. Someone with contacts, who could be discreet, and would accept a payment in cash.

She thought he might be just that person. The only problem—his office was on Third Street, back in town.

Glancing at her watch, she knew she had enough time to drive back toward town and stop at his office. But then she reconsidered. Not only did she run the risk of being recognized, even with her disguise, but what if Cord had heard she’d left town? This could be misconstrued as skipping out on her bail. He was a bounty hunter, after all.

Instead, she decided to call him. Once he’d verbally accepted her offer to work for her, he couldn’t bring her in, could he? She thought it would be a conflict of interest. Or something.

Using her phone, she did a quick internet search for S.A. Enterprises and located their web page. Once she had the phone number, she put it in her phone. Her finger hovered above the green phone icon. Was she sure she wanted to do this?

Though a trickle of fear clogged her throat, she knew she had to make the call. Truth be told, she had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

* * *

When his office phone rang, Cord almost didn’t answer it. He’d spent the last hour mapping out a search area. Since Piper Colton wasn’t used to being on the lam, he figured she’d be easy to find. Of course, he’d believed the same thing about Renee.

Something, call it instinct or maybe just desperation, had him reaching for the phone. After he answered and heard the husky feminine voice on the line, he could hardly believe he could be this lucky.

Piper Colton. And she wanted to hire him.

“Wait, slow down,” he said, barely able to make sense out of the torrent of words. “Maybe you should come in so we can talk.”

She went silent then. For a few seconds at least, long enough for him to worry he might have blown it. “Or we can meet somewhere,” he added, aware she might not feel comfortable venturing back into town.

“There’s a flea market tomorrow in Terrell,” she finally said, sounding remarkably upbeat considering her situation. “Meet me in front of the entrance at nine. It’s usually pretty crowded, so I’ll wear a yellow T-shirt.”

Quickly, he agreed. Evidently, Piper Colton still liked to hunt down junked out furniture and make it pretty. He’d actually planned to begin searching at the Terrell Trade Days.

She ended the call before he could question her further. No matter. He could hardly believe this case would be so easy. Not even two days had passed since Fowler had hired him.

Grinning, he wished Sam were still here to high-five. Well-paying, quick and easy cases happened very seldom.

The next morning, Cord donned his usual jeans, work boots and T-shirt. Though he wore his pistol in the concealed holster, he knew he most likely wouldn’t have to use it. One thing he’d learned over the years was that bringing in a fugitive was nothing like what was portrayed in movies and books. Nine times out of ten, the best way to apprehend someone was to talk to them. Explain the cost of their actions. And to listen when they attempted to justify what they’d done.

By the time he and Piper finished shooting the breeze, he anticipated she’d be eager to return home to face the music.

Years had passed since he’d seen Piper, and he remembered her as a skinny waif of a kid, all legs and elbows, with her long blond hair worn in twin braids. Oddly enough, in all this time he hadn’t run into her in town. He supposed he might have seen her from a distance, but couldn’t say for certain. He’d never been one to pay that much attention to the Colton family’s coming and goings. Those folks operated on a different plane than the rest of town.

Despite the overcast morning, the unseasonably warm temperature enabled him not only to go without a jacket, but to wear short sleeves. Texas weather, always unpredictable. Eighty degrees one day, a hard freeze the next. As far as Cord was concerned, he preferred heat over cold.

Driving out to the flea market, he realized Piper hadn’t been exaggerating when she talked of the crowds. A mile from the flea market and he sat in a traffic jam that rivaled Dallas’s early morning rush hour.

Finally, he spotted a parking lot with openings. Handing over his ten dollar fee, he parked his truck. Now to find Piper Colton and talk her into returning home.

Long lines formed at the entrance. Realizing people were waiting to purchase tickets to get in, he muttered a curse. Whoever heard of paying admission to an oversize garage sale, which was all a flea market was as far as he was concerned.

Bypassing the lines earned him several frowns and glares. He ignored this, scanning the crowd for a woman in a yellow shirt.

Of course, there were several. The first, he discounted immediately as she had to be at least eighty. The next could be the right age, but she had three kids in tow.

And then he saw her. Piper Colton. Slender and beautiful and much sexier than he’d expected. She stood tall and confident, occasionally glancing up from her phone before returning her attention back to it. Though still athletic, she had curves in all the right places. She’d cut her blond hair short and tipped the spiky ends with hot pink, giving her an edgy look that he found erotic as hell. The stylish cut went well with her heart-shaped face, showing off her high cheekbones and making her green eyes appear huge, despite the large black eyeglasses she wore.

The pale yellow of her T-shirt made him smile. He’d pictured lemon yellow, not this watered down version that suited her coloring so well.

Striding toward her, he kept that smile on his face. She looked up, met his gaze, and he felt his entire world shift on its axis.

What the hell? Pushing away the momentary sense of disorientation, he held out his hand. “Cord Maxwell,” he said quietly.

“Pleased to meet you.” Though she slid her fingers into his and shook his hand, he noticed she didn’t offer her name. The fleeting firmness of her cool grip on his fingers pleased him. There was nothing tentative in this woman, which was good. She’d need all of her strength to face the days ahead.

“I need your assistance,” she began. “As I’m sure you’ve probably heard, my adoptive father has disappeared. Since you’re a private investigator, I want to hire you to help me find out who kidnapped him and where he is.”

Though he tried, he couldn’t quite contain his shock.

“What’d you think I wanted?” she asked, her dry tone warring with her serious expression.

He gave her the truth. “I thought you might ask me to help you find information to beat the murder charge.”

A subtle flash in her eyes before she looked down. Anger? Resignation? Maybe both. “You know about that.”

“Yes.” Debating if now would be the right time, he exhaled and went with it. “Your brother Fowler paid me a visit.”

A combination of distaste and pain reflexed back at him in her expressive eyes. “What did Fowler want?”

“He hired me to find you.”

She froze. “Do you think you might have mentioned that when I first contacted you?”

“I thought maybe we could talk first.”

Barely had he gotten the words out when she spun to take off. He grabbed her arm. “Wait...”

“Let me go or I’ll scream.” She spoke through clenched teeth.

“Please. Hear me out.”

“Release. My. Arm.” She spat. “You’re hurting me.”

That last did it. Even though he doubted his tight grip was painful, he let her go.

Of course she took off. A fast walk, then a jog. He hurried along right behind her. No one in the crowd waiting in line to enter the flea market paid them any attention—if they did, Cord figured they’d assume a lovers’ spat.

Piper’s jog became an all-out sprint. As he did the same, he couldn’t help but feel proud of her. She had no way to know he ran every morning. Or that he’d completed many marathons, too many to count.

Instead of catching her, he kept pace with her, keeping a few feet away. When she reached a white BMW, evidently her vehicle, she stopped and fumbled in her small shoulder bag for a key.

He made his move, stepping between her and the driver’s side door. “Ten minutes,” he said. “Just give me ten minutes of your time. I just want to talk.”

Gaze raking over him, she shoved her glasses back up on her nose and considered. “I don’t see what good that will do. If you’re working for Fowler, you can’t help me. Conflict of interest and all that.”

“Maybe I can do both,” he said. This got her attention.

“Fine. Ten minutes.” Unlocking her car, she gestured at him to get in. “Start talking.”

As he folded himself into the passenger seat, he realized she smelled like peaches. Which made him think of summer, his favorite time of the year. Biting into a plump, ripe peach with the juice running down his chin. And she, completely unaware of her appeal, eyed him with skepticism plain in every tense line of her body.

“I believe you,” he told her. “I remember when we were kids on the ranch. You wouldn’t even kill a bug.”

She nodded, but didn’t speak.

Neither did he. He could wait her out. Sam had drilled into him how patience solved more cases than anything else.

“But?” she finally prompted.

He hid his rueful smile. “When’s your court date?”

“I have no idea. My sister said she was told I’d get notice in the mail. She is going to hire an attorney to represent me.”

“Fowler said to tell you he’ll pay all your legal fees.” Might as well put that out there.

Her lovely eyes narrowed. “Why would he want to do that? He and Marceline made it clear they think I’m guilty.”

“I think Fowler feels bad. He paid me a lot of money to find you and bring you back home.”

Her pointed look told him what she thought about that. “And that’s your cue to get out of my car.”

“My ten minutes aren’t up yet,” he protested, keeping his tone light. “How about this. I’ll work with you to find out what really happened to Eldridge if you agree to go back with me before your hearing.”

“You want to make a deal?” The suspicion dripping from her voice made him smile.

“Yes.”

“How do you know you can trust me?”

“I knew you way back when,” he reminded her, even as he tried to reconcile the tomboy she’d once been with the confident and sexy woman sitting next to him. “I figure you couldn’t have changed too much.”

Head tilted, she considered him. “You know, despite your kind memories of me, I’m not at all like you apparently think I am. I’m not a saint.”

Her words brought a rush of selfish gladness, which he wisely kept to himself. It would be a sin to be a saint with a body like hers. “I never said you were.”

“Despite that, to be honest I wasn’t planning on skipping out on court. I wouldn’t do that to T.C., Reid and Alanna.”

“That’s what I thought.” He considered her right back, suppressing the tingle of desire he felt. “My suggestion is a win for both of us. I’ll help you investigate what really happened to Eldridge, and you can help me—” He stopped, unable to believe how close he’d come to telling her about Renee.

Of course she picked up on that. “Help you what?”

Should he? Why not. Like her, he had nothing to lose by telling her. “Since my sister died two years ago, I’ve been trying to raise my niece, Renee,” he said, keeping all emotion out of his voice. “She ran away a few weeks ago. I’ve been looking for her ever since.”

Piper swallowed. One corner of her sensual mouth quirked in the beginnings of a smile. “Without success?”

“Exactly.”

He could see her thoughts written plainly on her face. “I normally have a very high success rate. But just because I’m licensed as a private investigator and fugitive recovery specialist doesn’t mean I never run into trouble.”

“Good to know.” The ghost of a smile vanished before it ever actually came into being. He found himself wishing he could have seen it.

“Why not?” she finally said, apparently coming to a quick decision. Her lack of prevaricating was another trait he admired. “Sure, I’m in. I’ll help you find your niece and you help me learn the truth about what happened to Eldridge.”

He noticed again she didn’t say murder, which made him realize she truly didn’t believe her adoptive father was dead. The flicker of interest he had at the thought was the first he’d experienced in any case since Renee had disappeared. Worry and guilt had basically consumed him, blotting out the potential for anything else.

“Sounds good,” he managed, realizing he’d gone a bit too long lost in his thoughts. He held out his hand. “Partners?”

Without hesitation she shook. Once again, he felt that sizzle along his nerve endings and the touch of her fingers in his. Weird. But he could deal with it.

“Where are you staying?” he asked, now that they’d sealed the bargain.

“The Budget Inn off I-20.”

“Let’s go gather your stuff. You’re staying with me from now on.”

Arms crossed, she shook her head. “If you think that authoritative command is going to make me fall right in line with your plans, you’re dead wrong,” she drawled. “In fact, whenever someone tries to order me around, I want to do the exact opposite.”

A laugh escaped him; he couldn’t help it. “I like you,” he said, surprised.

“I’m reserving judgment until I know you better.” There it was again, the smile sneaking onto a corner of her mouth.

He found himself holding his breath waiting for it. When she looked down instead, he pushed away his disappointment. “Fair enough,” he said. “We’re a lot alike. I think we’ll get along just fine.”

“Maybe.” She didn’t sound too concerned. “Now I’m going to go back to the flea market and check it out. After that, I’ll think about considering your kind offer of shelter.”

Chapter 3

As she browsed the flea market, pretending an extreme interest in just about every booth, from homemade baked goods to used tires, Piper ignored her keen awareness of the large man silently shadowing her. Due to his size and the masculinity he radiated, he drew a lot of stares from other women.

Though she couldn’t blame them, she wasn’t sure what to think of Cord Maxwell. As he’d pointed out, they’d known each other as children, but she also knew a lot could happen to a person in the years between childhood and adulthood.

Despite that, she’d kept distant track of him, the way most everyone did in a small town. She knew he’d inherited Sam Ater’s business when Sam died and had heard Cord had a good reputation as a steady, honest man. She’d planned to hire him, after all. Until she’d realized he not only knew she’d been arrested for murder, but that Fowler had beat her to him.

Did that mean she could trust him? As she examined a beautiful, amber-colored jar of local honey, she considered. Cord had told her the truth up front—that he was working for Fowler—despite the possibility that doing so might make her run. That had to count for something, right?

She’d always been a big believer in trusting her instincts. And her gut feeling told her she could trust him.

Decision made, she turned to tell him, only to catch him regarding her with such intensity that his eyes had darkened. Unbidden, she felt an answering shiver of awareness before squashing it right back into nothing.

“We have a deal,” she told him, about to offer him a handshake but thinking better of it at the last moment.

“I’m not nuts about staying in the same place as you,” she admitted, swallowing hard as she brazened it out. “It’s too intimate.”

He stared at her for a second before a slow grin spread across his rugged face. “Intimate? Only if you make it so. You’ll have your own room and bathroom. The only common areas will be the kitchen and living room. More like a roommate scenario. There’s nothing remotely intimate about that.”

His expression and voice said one thing, but the heat in his eyes said another. Her face warmed and she knew her skin had turned the color of a ripe tomato. She considered herself a strong, self-sufficient woman. Surely she could resist this tug of sexual attraction she felt whenever she so much as looked at him.

“You’re probably right.” Squaring her shoulders, she didn’t let a single trace of regret sound in her voice. “All right. Let me pick up my gear and I’ll follow you there in my car.”

Though he nodded, he stared at her like he thought if he granted her access to her vehicle, she’d jump in and speed away. Irritated, she glared back at him. “My word’s as good as yours, you know.”

“That obvious, huh?”

“Yes. I guess you might have to deal with a lot of lowlifes in your profession, but I’m not one of them.”

This clearly surprised him. One brow raised, he studied her. “I wasn’t thinking you were a lowlife. I can see you’re not. But you are a survivor. And I can tell you’ll do whatever you have to in order to continue to survive.”

Surprised and secretly pleased, she nodded. “Good read. We truly are two of a kind, because I can tell you’re the same way. And from what little you’ve told me, I think your niece is a survivor, as well. I’m sure we’ll find her soon.”

The mention of his niece caused his expression to darken. “Maybe what I need is a feminine perspective. Once we get to my place, I’ll tell you everything about her. Then maybe you’ll have some thoughts about where she might have gone.”

Though she doubted he was aware of it, he sounded so lost, so worried, that her heart went out to him. She truly hoped she actually could help him bring his niece home.

She drove back to her motel with him right behind her. For the first time since she’d left the ranch, she didn’t stress so much over the possibility of anyone following her. At least now that she’d teamed up with Cord, she’d have one other person on her side. Sometimes that alone could make a huge difference.

He waited in his truck while she went into her room and gathered up her meager belongings. She checked out, paying cash, and strode back outside. Once in her car, she gestured to Cord to lead the way, and off they went. At least he didn’t live in town proper or anywhere near the Colton Valley Ranch. Though he didn’t have a place on the outside of town like her family, his home on the southern fringes near the county line ensured she wouldn’t run into any of the Coltons or their friends.

As they turned into a long, winding drive, the sight of his house sitting beneath tall trees caused something to shift inside her. “Perfect,” she exclaimed out loud, even though no one could hear her. His home on the outside, all perfectly fit logs hewn from rugged timber, suited him perfectly. If the situation had been different—no, she wouldn’t let herself go there.

She’d keep things friendly, but professional. After all, this was a business partnership, sort of.

“What are you going to tell Fowler?” she asked the instant she got out of the car.

To give him credit, he simply shrugged. “Nothing, yet. I’m not going to lie, but he doesn’t need to know I’ve found you until closer to the court date. Since notice will be mailed to your home, we’re either going to have to rely on Fowler to tell me, or you’ll need to contact one of your siblings. Is that all right with you?”

Once again she appreciated his honesty. “Sounds good.” Keeping her tone light, she followed him into his house.

Inside, she stopped and stared. The same log walls, with matching polished pine floors, gave the interior a rustic, welcoming feel. His oversize leather furniture, along with the still life painting of wildlife, gave the room a masculine feel. The only thing lacking was a woman’s touch.

He laughed, making her realize she’d spoken out loud. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Sometimes my thoughts travel from my mind to my mouth before I can think.”

“It’s okay.” At least he continued to smile, so she knew she hadn’t offended him. “I actually remember that about you.”

“Seriously?” She frowned, trying to decide if her bad habit had been around even in childhood. Guessing it probably had, she let it go.

“Yep.” He squeezed her shoulder, his expression friendly. “It’s one of the things I always liked about you. No subterfuge.”

Apparently he remembered more about her than she did him. Mostly she remembered feeling sorry for him, a young kid like her, left so often to his own devices by a father who stayed drunk more than sober.

“Thanks.” Taking one more look around, she eyed him. “Where am I staying?”

“This way.” A short, L-shaped hallway branched out from the living room. They passed one doorway, which at a quick glance appeared to be an office-combination-workout room, and stopped at the second. “My guest bedroom, now yours. Feel free to add any womanly touches you feel it needs for as long as you’re here.”

Gazing up at his smiling face, something shifted inside her. “I will,” she said, her tone brisk. “I’m going to unpack first. I don’t like things wrinkled.”

“Of course. When you’re done, meet me in the kitchen. We have a lot to discuss, not just about Renee, but about Eldridge, too.”

She nodded, heart still up in her throat, and quietly closed the door. Then stood there like a fool and listened to the sound of his footsteps as he went down the hall.

Sighing, she went over to her backpack, unzipped it and emptied it onto the bed. Hanging up her meager collection of clothes—kudos to Cord for providing hangers in the closet—she checked out the hall bathroom before heading out to the kitchen. It would do. It all would do for the short time she intended to stay here.

Cord stood as she approached, drawing her gaze to his broad shoulders, muscular chest and arms. With his shaggy head of dark hair, he looked primitive and dangerous and, if she was honest, sexy as hell.

It dawned on her that maybe she’d made a mistake agreeing to stay with him. Then, as he met her gaze and flashed that half smile, she took a deep breath and told herself to quit being an idiot.

“Would you like something to drink?” he asked. “I have coffee, tea, bottled water and Coke.”

“Water, please.” Taking a seat, she gazed up at him, refusing to be overwhelmed by his blatant sex appeal.

Handing her bottled water, he straddled the chair across from her. “Let’s start at the beginning. What evidence do the police have on you that made them arrest you?”

“A bloodstained shirt was found in my closet.”

“Eldridge’s?”

She nodded. “I gave him that shirt for Christmas several years ago. He rarely wore it.”

“What else?” Watching her closely, he took a long drink of his water. She almost lost her train of thought, watching the movement of his throat as he swallowed.

“That’s it, as far as I know.”

“A shirt alone isn’t enough. Do they have some sort of confession?”

A humorless laugh escaped her. “No. But not for lack of trying. Two officers badgered me for hours. At one point I considered agreeing to what they wanted me to say, just to get them to stop. But I knew that’s what they wanted. And, since I didn’t kill Eldridge, there was no way I was about to claim I did. They need to get off their lazy rear ends and find the real killer.”

His grin floored her, making her chest ache. She couldn’t figure out how this man could distract her so easily, at a time when distraction was the last thing she needed.

“I agree.” He sounded almost cheerful. “And there has to be more, or the DA won’t let them charge you. I’ve got a friend who works in the sheriff’s department. Let me do some digging.”

Relieved, she nodded. “Okay. My brother Reid used to be a detective and he promised to check around, too.” She took a deep breath. “Now that we’ve discussed my situation, why don’t you tell me about your niece?”

“Renee?” A shadow darkened his features as he spoke the name. “Do you remember my older sister, Denice?”

“Vaguely. She wasn’t around a lot. Wasn’t she tall, and really pretty? I think she liked to party.”

“She did. And with a father like ours, I couldn’t blame her. At least, not at first. But once she got pregnant, she cleaned up her act. I really thought she’d be a great mother...” His voice trailed off.

As the silence stretched out, she exhaled and prompted. “But? There’s always a but.”

He shrugged, clearly pretending to be unaffected, though the pain in his eyes told another story. “She wasn’t. She and Renee’s father married. Joshua was an addict and in a band. She started traveling with him. I’m sure you can guess the rest.”

She nodded. “What happened to them?”

“Denice was driving drunk. Her husband and Renee were in the car. She drove onto I-635 going the wrong way. The head-on collision killed Denice and him instantly. Renee was asleep in the backseat. She was lucky. She had numerous broken bones and had to be hospitalized for a couple of weeks while they tried to get the swelling around her brain to go down. When she finally healed enough to be released, I brought her home with me. She was sixteen.”

Her heart wrenched. “Poor girl. That had to be hard.”

Gazing off into the distance, he nodded. “It was. The worst part was the screaming. She kept reliving the moment when she woke up in the wrecked car. Luckily, she had her seat belt on, but she was hanging upside down. Her mother was dead in the front seat and her father...”

Dragging a hand across his mouth, he swallowed. “Needless to say, I’ve been sending her to therapy. I really thought it was beginning to help.” His grimace told her what he thought about that.

“Enough about the past,” he finally said. “I need to find her. I couldn’t save my sister, but I refuse to give up on her daughter.”

Despite barely knowing him, Piper battled the strongest urge to go to him and wrap her arms around him. For comfort, nothing more. Or so she told herself, trying to ignore the way her mouth went dry at the thought of touching him.

Instead, she forced herself to focus on his statement. “Tell me about her. What does she like to do for fun? Does she have any hobbies?”

His blank look told her he truly didn’t know.

Briefly, she closed her eyes. “How involved in her life were you, exactly?”

He swore. Under his breath, but still loud enough for her to hear. “I tried.” His grim voice contained both bewilderment and guilt. “She pushed me away at every turn. Renee couldn’t come to grips with the thought of living with me, an uncle she barely knew. She constantly tried to re-create her parents’ lifestyle. I guess she believed she could find comfort in the familiar.”

Unable to find the right words, Piper said nothing. She actually had to curl her fingers into her palms, nails digging into her skin, to keep from reaching out to him.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” Pushing to his feet, he shook himself, like a dog shaking off water. “I don’t mean to sound so pitiful.”

“You don’t. I get what you’re telling me. It was a lot more difficult than you expected, trying to raise a teenager.”

“Yes.” Sounding relieved, he sat back down. “I probably was overprotective. I didn’t want her to make the same mistakes her mother made.”

“I bet the more you pushed, the worse she pulled in the other direction. Poor kid just wanted love and acceptance. She didn’t understand you were loving her the only way you knew how.”

“Exactly.”

She thought for a second. “Okay, let’s start with the basics. Did she graduate high school?”

“Yes.”

“Good. What were her plans for after graduation? College? Junior college?”

He snorted, then looked ashamed. “She had no plans that I know of. I figured she liked to party. At least she had a job.”

“Aha.” Finally something concrete. “Where did she work?”

“Several places. All waitressing jobs. She liked waitressing. And she did well, until she got fired.”

“Why? What’d she do to make them let her go?”

“Actually, I’m not sure. I figured partying, but for all I know she could have stolen something.”

Shocked, Piper struggled with the idea that Cord hadn’t bothered to find out. “Getting fired is a direct hit on anyone’s self-confidence. You never asked her why?”

“Hey.” He spread his hands in a defensive gesture. “Every time I tried to talk to her about anything, whether it was about the weather or something more personal, like school or her job, she’d shut down and refuse to answer.”

“What about after graduation?”

“The only time I ever heard her mention any sort of aspiration was that she wanted to tend bar. She said she was tired of waitressing. I told her she wasn’t old enough to be a bartender. She looked at me and told me there were ways around her age.”

With a sigh, she tried to keep her tone light. “Her last job—did she quit or get fired?”

He took another swig of water before answering. “I guess you could say both. She stopped showing up for work and they fired her.”

“I assume since you appear to have covered all the bases that you’ve already talked to her friends.”

To her surprise, he grimaced. “I tried. But she never brought anyone to the house and her coworkers couldn’t think of any friends—male or female—either.”

Her heart squeezed. “Poor kid. She was trying to cope all on her own.”

“Maybe.” He didn’t sound convinced. “But the more realistic possibility is that she does have friends. Friends that are the type to stay hidden. The kind she knew I wouldn’t approve of. Drug dealers and addicts. People like the ones she must have grown up around, since her parents no doubt brought them home.”

“I don’t know.” Piper shook her head. “Have you ever considered the possibility that she might want the opposite lifestyle? She’s new here. Maybe she’s shy. It’s really hard on teenagers moving to a new place and school.”

“She’s been here two years. Even the biggest wallflower in the world would have made a friend or two after all that time. Remember, she liked to party. No one does that alone.”

Since she hadn’t actually met his niece, Piper figured he’d be more equipped to know. “Okay. Did you talk to her school? The teachers, her guidance counselor, anyone like that?”

“Yes.” Cord’s expression might have been carved from stone. “Most of them barely remembered her. Except the art teacher. That woman couldn’t stop talking about how talented Renee is.”

“Art?” Now they were getting somewhere. Most likely, Renee had used her art to help her cope with her loneliness, the same way Piper did with her refinishing old furniture. “What kind of art? Does she paint or sculpt or...?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. But the art teacher seemed surprised to hear she’d run away. She said before graduation, she and Renee had been looking at art schools so Renee could apply.”

“Did she? Apply to any schools?” Though Piper had often been accused of wearing rose-colored glasses, she felt a strange sort of kinship with this girl, despite never meeting her.

“Again, I don’t know.” A slight edge had crept into his voice, as if he realized this was the sort of information he should have been privy to.

She didn’t know him well enough to take him to task for his lack of knowledge about someone he’d shared his home with for twenty-four months.

* * *

Cord knew what Piper thought. Truth be told, he couldn’t actually blame her. He’d done a crappy job of trying to raise Renee for the past two years. Part of that was due to his complete and utter unpreparedness and lack of experience.

The other part, the one he had trouble admitting even to himself, was from the instant he’d met the troubled sixteen-year-old, she’d reminded him of his sister, Denice. If Renee went down the same path as Denice had, Cord knew it would kill him.

He’d tried. By all that was holy, he’d tried. Every mistake he’d made—and there’d been plenty—he’d tried to rectify.

While he knew Piper wasn’t judging him, hearing his own answers to her innocuous questions had made him inwardly cringe.

“Let’s focus on you now,” he said, aware changing the subject wouldn’t make his errors go away. “You say you were framed?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have many enemies?”

Startled, she considered. “I never thought about that before. It’s possible. I do tend to be outspoken about what I feel is right. Not everyone agrees with me.”

“Let’s narrow that down. Anyone get angry with you recently?”

“Fowler and Marceline, but that’s nothing unusual, I can barely breathe without annoying one or the other, Marceline especially. She likes to harp on the fact that I’m not a real Colton.” She spoke matter-of-factly, simply because that’s the way it had always been for as long as she could remember.

“I remember,” he said, his expression inscrutable. “She did that even when we were all kids. What I never could figure out is why. It’s not like she was born a Colton, either.”

Secretly pleased, Piper looked down at her hands to hide her smile. “Yeah, the logic she used never failed to amaze me.”

“Anyone else?” he pressed. “Figuring out who tried to frame you would be a step in making sure you’re acquitted.”

“I’ll think about it and make you a list.” Though she’d only been half-serious, he nodded.

“You do that. Knowing who to investigate will put us that much closer to finding out who’s trying to frame you.”

The simple statement, made in such a matter-of-fact tone, floored her. Probably because after Fowler and Marceline’s accusations, the idea that this man, whom she barely knew, actually believed her, made her feel weepy and joyful all at once.

“Thank you,” she told him. “I’ll get busy on that right away.”

“Here.” Handing her a pad of paper and a pen, he smiled. The masculine sensuality of that smile made her heart skip. “While you do that, I’ve got some chores to complete.”

“It shouldn’t take too long. I don’t think I have too many enemies.”

He laughed. “Once you get to thinking about it, it might surprise you.”

And he left. Leaving her staring at a blank piece of paper trying to figure out who might hate her enough to frame her.

* * *

Piper Colton had no idea of the power of her own beauty, Cord thought as he trudged out to the barn. He’d known other beautiful women before and without exception, every move, every smile or glance, had been carefully and artfully calculated to show their attributes off to the best advantage. Piper, on the other hand, appeared genuine. Sweet and kind. And sexy as hell.

He considered himself lucky he had chores to keep his mind off where it didn’t belong.

The wind had shifted to the north, bringing a chill. He brought the horses into the barn first, making sure they were snug in their stalls. Then he rounded up his goats and put them all in one stall. After they’d all been fed, he refilled the watering troughs and left them bunkered down.

Before heading in, he grabbed a bundle of firewood to take inside with him.

Piper sat where he’d left her, legs tucked up under her, pad and pen in hand.

“No luck so far,” she announced, then eyed him. “What do you have there?”

“A cold front is coming in. They’re predicting the first freeze of the season,” he said, dropping his load on the brick hearth. He went outside for one more. She watched him as he placed his load in the small stack.

“Are we going to have a fire?”

He had to grin at the hint of excitement in her voice. “Sure, why not? The forecast says it’ll drop down to around 25 degrees. Definitely fire-in-the-fireplace weather.”

She grinned back. “Can you light it now?”

Momentarily captivated by the way her smile lit up her heart-shaped face, it took him a second to formulate a single-word answer. “Sure.”

Once he had a nice blaze going, he straightened. The orange glow from the fire bathed the entire room—and Piper—in a warm, mellow light.

He was suddenly aware of exactly how cozy—or to borrow her word from before, intimate—a simple thing as a fire on a cold winter’s night could be.

Only if he let it.

“Now, the only thing that could make this more perfect would be a cup of hot cocoa,” she sighed. When she wrinkled her nose at him, he knew he was in trouble.

“I bet I have some instant cocoa somewhere,” he managed. “Let me go see.” And he beat a hasty retreat from the room.

Once in the brightly lit (and non-cozy) kitchen, he gulped in air. What the hell? It wasn’t like he’d never had a woman over his house before. He’d had more than a few girlfriends here since he’d bought the place. Just none of them had ever affected him the way Piper did.

Which was not only weird, but worrisome. Very, very dangerous to his equilibrium. What was left of it. The last two years had been a roller coaster of ups and downs. He’d just gotten his act together when Sam died. After that he’d faced Denice’s death and becoming the legal guardian of a rebellious sixteen-year-old.

It seemed he’d barely adjusted, his life finally evening out when Renee took off. The last thing he needed would be to form any kind of attachment to Piper Colton, whether emotional or sexual.

While he placed the teakettle on the stove top to heat the water and emptied the little packets of cocoa into mugs, he reminded himself that she was his bounty. Or a client. Actually, both. Either way, she was off-limits.

The kettle whistled and he poured the water into the cocoa powder, stirring. He didn’t have any whipped cream on hand since the only time he bothered to buy that was for pies. Plain old cocoa would have to do.

He carried the mugs back into the living room and placed one down on the table in front of her. “Cheers,” he said, raising his in a mock salute.

Her smile caused something to twist in his gut. “Cheers,” she replied. “Thank you for making the cocoa.”

“You’re welcome.” Placing his mug on the hearth, he pretended to fiddle with the logs and the fire so he wouldn’t start grinning like an idiot.

“I’ve been working on a plan,” she said, offhandedly scratching a pleased Truman behind his ears.

Surprised, he glanced back at her over his shoulder. She lifted a spiral notebook to show him. “Just some ideas at this point.”

“Ideas of who might have actually killed Eldridge or where he might be?”

“No.” She shook her head. “About places we might look for Renee.”

“Seriously?” To keep himself occupied, he grabbed his mug and chugged some of his cocoa. The instant he did, he realized his mistake. Too hot. Somehow he managed to swallow, inwardly cursing the burn on his tongue.

Piper didn’t appear to notice. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I figured you’d want to work on your stuff first.” He shrugged, and then took another, more careful, sip.

“I thought we could do both.” Patting the coach cushion next to her, she opened her notebook. “Come sit. Let’s go over these notes.”

As he debated the dubious wisdom of sitting so close to her, the doorbell rang. Truman immediately leaped to his feet and charged the door, barking.

“Truman, come,” Cord ordered. Once Truman had reluctantly complied, Cord gave him the hand signal for sit and then stay. Piper watched, her expression amazed.

Now that the barking had quieted, Cord checked the peephole. “Fowler,” he said out loud.

Piper gasped, jumping from the couch so quickly she nearly spilled her cocoa. She fled, heading toward her room. Cord waited until he heard her door close before he opened the front door.

Chapter 4

“What are you doing here?” Cord demanded, blocking the entrance so Fowler would have no choice but to remain on the front stoop.

Fowler peered at him, swaying slightly. He wore his usual suit, though his tie had been loosened. “I thought I’d check to see if you’d made any progress.”

Was that a slight slurring of his words? Not that it was any of his business, but as far as Cord knew, Fowler didn’t drink.

“This is my home.” Cord kept his tone firm. “It’s after nine p.m. If you want to discuss business, you’ll need to stop by my office during business hours. I’d suggest you call first and make an appointment since I’m often out on the road.”

None of his words appeared to register. “I know.” Fowler gave him a lopsided grin. “But we were passing right by here and I decided to stop in and check with you.”

We?

“Have you been drinking?” Peering around the other man, Cord tried to find Fowler’s car. There it was, blocking his driveway. He couldn’t tell if there was someone else inside or not.

“I have. But I’m not driving. Tiffany is. And she doesn’t drink.”

The difference from the uptight, overbearing businessman to this inebriated, regular guy made Cord wonder if he’d misjudged the other man. Either way, he knew he couldn’t let Fowler inside the house.

“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” Cord began closing the door. To his annoyance, Fowler stuck one foot, clad in expensive Italian leather, in the way.

“I’d suggest you move that foot,” Cord warned him. “It might hurt if I stomp on it or slam the door with it still inside. You might even sustain a broken bone or two.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” There. That pompous tone was 100 percent the Fowler everyone loved to hate.

“Try me.” Cord checked his watch. “I’m going to count to three and then the door is going to close. One.”

“You work for me,” Fowler declared, his expression a strange combination of pinched and sloppy. “I demand you give me a status update.”

“Demand? Wrong choice of words. I’m not on the payroll 24/7. Two.”

“Damn you.”

“Three.”

Fowler jerked his foot back so hard he stumbled. Cord slammed the door, secured the dead bolt and took a deep breath. He peered through the blinds, wanting to make sure the other man actually left.

Only once he’d witnessed Fowler climbing into the passenger side of the car did he go and fetch Piper, Truman tagging along behind him.

Tapping lightly on her bedroom door, he turned the knob and peered inside. “He’s gone.” She looked up at him, her eyes wide. She sat perched on the edge of the bed as if about to take flight, her face pale. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing. I sent him away.” As he took a step into the room, he realized she was trembling. Damn. “Are you all right?” This was so unlike the brash, confident Piper he’d begun to know, it worried him.

“Yes. I’m fine.”

One more step closer. “You don’t look fine.”

At that, she jumped to her feet. “All right, I’m not. As soon as I realized Fowler was here, I figured you’d give me up.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you work for him.” The way she spoke made him realize she’d clenched her teeth.

“True. But I already told you I wasn’t about to turn you over just yet, remember? Legally, since you haven’t missed your court date yet, I don’t have to. I don’t go back on my word. I told Fowler you’d be back before your court date. You agreed to this. We’re good.”

She shook her head, hands clenched into fists at her ides. “Tell me the truth. Is Fowler out there waiting for me?”

Though he knew he should keep his distance, he took yet one final step, stopping a few feet from her. “Let’s get one thing straight between us, Piper Colton. I’m a man of my word. I don’t lie. If I tell you he’s gone, he’s gone.”

At his words she made an angry puff of sound before she spun and stalked to the other side of the room, away from him. Truman the traitor followed her, tail wagging. She reached down and petted the dog, scratching just above his collar. “You’ve just contradicted yourself. If you don’t lie, how’d you get Fowler to leave?”

Though damned if he didn’t feel he were hunting her, he followed. “He didn’t ask if I’d found you or if you were here. He demanded a status report, which I refused to give him. Nothing but the truth. That’s the one thing you can always count on from me.”

“Braggart.”

Not sure he’d heard correctly, he stared. “What?”

“I called you a braggart.” She tilted her head as she eyed him, and he wondered if she truly was daring him to defend himself. Damn, she was beautiful, with that heart-shaped face, her emerald eyed fringed with thick black lashes and her spiky blond hair tinged with hot pink. Sexy, too.

Whatever her intention, her words coaxed a reluctant smile from him. “It’s the truth,” he insisted, merely because he wanted to see what she’d do next. “I never lie.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

She circled him, keeping several feet between them.

Truman sat, watching her curiously. “That must make life difficult for you sometimes.”

Thoroughly entertained, he acknowledged her comment with a nod.

“Do you like me?” No coquettishness in either her voice or her expression, just simple curiosity.

“Yes. Actually, I’m beginning to,” he amended, still smiling. “Why do you want to know?”

She shrugged. “Just testing to see if you really won’t lie. Are you attracted to me?”

A jolt went through him. “Are you flirting?”

Though she colored, she didn’t look away. “Maybe. Maybe not. I’m trying to find out where we stand with each other. I also noticed you didn’t answer the question.”

He laughed; he couldn’t help it. “I’d have to be dead not to find you attractive,” he told her. “But don’t worry, I won’t let it get in the way of the job I have to do. Or finding Renee. Both are too important to me.”

Color still high, she finally smiled back. “Fair enough. Now how about we call it a night and regroup in the morning.”

Though it was still early, he nodded. “Okay. Good night.”

She sighed. “I’m probably going to regret this, but...”

Before he could ask what she meant, she crossed the space between them, grabbed him and pulled him down for a kiss. Her mouth moved across his, nothing tentative about it. A wave of lust swamped him. Damn if it wasn’t the most erotic kiss he’d ever shared.

Standing stock-still, he let her nibble and explore, until he couldn’t take it any longer. Finally, he seized control, needing to claim her. He tasted her, skimmed his fingers over her soft, soft skin, outlining her lush curves. He couldn’t get enough, craving more, breathing her in until the force of his arousal told him he needed to break it off right now or they’d be in trouble.

He’d be in trouble, he amended silently. Despite the fact that he physically shook with desire, he stepped back, trying to slow his heartbeat and the way he inhaled short gasps of air. Drowning, that’s what this had been like. Drowning in her.

“Good night,” he rasped, and turned to go. The way he left felt more like a retreat than anything else, but so be it. “Truman, come.”

His loyal dog, man’s best friend, didn’t budge. So Cord left him there with Piper.

Once he made it all the way across the house, he headed toward his room, desperately trying to think of something—anything—other than how badly he wanted to be inside of her.

A cold shower later—which helped, at least for a few minutes—and he finally slipped beneath his sheets. He’d lived long enough to understand what had just occurred between him and Piper was a huge mistake. He needed to do his best to forget it had ever happened. If she brought it up again, he’d say the same thing to her.

And if she initiated another kiss?

Just the thought had him burning again. Even though he’d made a conscious decision to try and forget, he couldn’t help but relive the moment.

He’d held her. Close. Felt every curve and hollow of her body pressed tightly against his. He’d tasted her—or rather—she’d tasted him. Her self-confidence and boldness intrigued and aroused him, which only made her even more dangerous.

* * *

The next morning Piper woke and stretched, taking a moment to contemplate before jumping out of bed. She must have been exhausted, since she’d apparently fallen deeply asleep the instant her head hit the pillow. She remembered nothing after that, not even a single dream.

All her life, she’d been a morning person, to most of the family’s dismay. When she woke, she liked to face the day head-on, full of energy and optimism.

Today would be no exception, even if she’d gotten a little carried away last night.

But who could blame her? Being around gorgeous, sexy-as-hell Cord would tempt a saint. And Piper definitely wasn’t a saint. She, like any other red-blooded female, could appreciate a perfect specimen of a man. Cord, with his thick mane of dark hair, chiseled features and muscular body, definitely qualified. Every time she looked at him her mouth went dry and her body tingled.

Just thinking about him made her want to kiss him again. And more, if she was honest with herself, which she always tried to be.

The way she saw it, with the two of them in such enforced, close proximity, sex would be inevitable. Maybe she’d simply tell him that, so they could get past the tiptoeing around each other and get right to it. Honestly, she’d been celibate long enough. She didn’t know how much longer she could wait.

If he asked her, she’d tell him the truth. She wanted him. She felt certain enough of that fact to be honest and upfront about it. Though she couldn’t say she never lied. She didn’t truly believe Cord when he said he didn’t.

A soft whine came from beside her. From a large lump under the blanket. A second later, Truman poked his big head out. “What are you doing there?” she asked, scratching him in his favorite place just below the ears. He sighed and closed his eyes.

“You can sleep in, boy,” she told the dog. “I’ve got to get up. Things to do and all that.”

She pushed back the covers and headed toward the bathroom. Thirty minutes later, showered, makeup done and hair dry, she tugged on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, chose sneakers over boots, and headed toward the kitchen.

Coffee. She smelled coffee, thank heavens. Some people claimed not to drink it, but she’d rather do without breakfast than her coffee.

Turning the corner, following the delicious scent, she ran smack-dab into Cord.

“Whoa,” he said, steadying her with hands on her arms. Large, capable-looking hands, she thought, remembering the feel of them on her body with a delicious shiver.

Cord released her, stepping back, almost as if she’d voiced the thought out loud.

Unsure if she should be hurt or amused or both, she decided to ignore it, at least for now. “Coffee,” she intoned, stepping around him as she made a beeline for the coffeepot.

“Mugs are in the cabinet right above it,” Cord said. “Powdered creamer, sugar and artificial sweetener, too.”

After snagging a mug, a heavy white one with a local breakfast restaurant logo on it, she filled it. Then, raising it to her nose, she inhaled deeply before taking a sip. “Mmm. I like mine black.”

When she raised her gaze from contemplation of the delicious morning nectar, she saw him studying her, his expression unreadable. “What?” she asked. “Don’t tell me none of your previous guests drank black coffee.”

“None of the female ones, that’s for sure,” he said. “Are you always this...bouncy so early in the morning?”

“Yes.” Unrepentant, she grinned and then took another sip of coffee. “It’s my blessing, or curse, depending how you look at it. As to early...” She glanced around the kitchen for a clock, finally seeing a digital display on the microwave. “Since when is six thirty early? Getting up at four a.m. in the summer to work cattle is early.”

“I forgot you live on a ranch.”

Still grinning, she nodded. “I do. And Eldridge always made all of us help when we were young.” Though her smile wavered as she remembered the man she thought of as her father, she forced herself to continue on. “Most of us still help out around the ranch, along with pursuing our other interests.” Which, in her case, meant repurposing old furniture and curb-side treasures.

She took a deep breath. “Do you want me to make breakfast? I cook a mean omelet.”

“You cook?”

Realizing he still stood in the spot where they’d collided, near the doorway as if he wanted to be able to bolt from the room, she smiled. “I do. And I’m pretty darn good at it, too. Our ranch cook taught me.”

“Hmm.”

“An enigmatic response if I ever heard one.” She gestured toward one of the empty kitchen chairs. “Why don’t you sit down? I promise I don’t bite.”

Of course, the statement sounded a lot more provocative than she’d intended, definitely because the instant she’d uttered it, she pictured where and how she’d love to bite him.

Closing her eyes, she briefly allowed herself to linger over the fantasy. Then, she shook her head, took a big gulp of coffee and eyed him, letting a half smile play on her lips.

He still stood in the same spot as if rooted in place. “Look, Piper...” Shifting his weight from foot to foot, he dragged a hand through his hair. To her amazement, this ruffled look made him even sexier.

“We need to set up some boundaries,” he continued. “I don’t sleep with my clients.”

“I’m not your client,” she promptly replied, still smiling. “Technically, Fowler is.”

He sighed. “True. But I’m helping you try and find out what really happened to Eldridge and you’re going to assist me in locating my niece. You really need to take this seriously. It’s important.”

“You’re right.” Sobering, she nodded. “Sorry. I do take this seriously. It’s just you’re so darn good-looking, it’s distracting.”

After a second of startled silence, he burst out laughing. “Thanks, I guess. You’re not bad yourself. Now, that said, can we focus on business?”

“Of course.” Debating, even as she tried not to be offended that she apparently didn’t have the same effect on him as he did on her, she shot him a quick, narrow look. “After breakfast. If you have any eggs, I’m making an omelet. If you’d like one, you’d better speak up. Otherwise, I’ll just make one for myself.”

Just then, Truman came padding into the kitchen.

“There you are,” Cord said, setting down a large dog bowl full of kibble. “You’re late for breakfast.”

“He slept with me,” Piper volunteered. “He’s really an awesome dog.”

Cord nodded. “Yes, he is.”

She ended up cooking two omelets. He made toast and poured them each a glass of orange juice. He took a seat across from her and they both ate quickly and in silence, though she had to curb the impulse to speak.

Once they’d finished, he grabbed the plates, rinsed them off and put them in the dishwasher, an act that made her smile. She enjoyed watching him move around the small kitchen. Even if they managed to act completely businesslike around each other, she figured that would never change.

“More coffee?” he asked. When she nodded, he poured them both a cup.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” Eager to get going, she pushed to her feet. Since he hadn’t taken a seat, she figured that meant he was ready to get started.

He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got a personal errand to run first thing. After I get back, I figured we could discuss Renee. I can show you some pictures—she’s a big fan of selfies on her Facebook and Instagram pages. Maybe if you get a feel for what she’s like, her personality and looks, you might have some new insights into where she might be hiding.”

“How about we talk in the car?” she countered. “Once you tell me her info, I can pull up her social media accounts on my phone.”

“I thought you could stay here until I get back.”

“What?” She cocked her head. “You weren’t going to take me with you? Why not?”

Though he tried hard to appear annoyed, she could see the way he tried to keep from smiling. “It’s a personal errand,” he reiterated. “Which means it’s something I have to do alone.”

Suddenly, with a gut-wrenching realization, she understood. “Damn.” She only swore in certain situations. This definitely felt like one. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend? I wouldn’t have come on to you if I’d known.”

Hurriedly, he bowed his head. At first, she thought it was to hide his anger, but as soon as she saw his shoulders shaking she realized he was laughing.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, her voice cross. “I’m not one to poach on another woman’s man.”

He apparently found her last sentence hilarious, because he busted out laughing. Arms crossed, she eyed him while he attempted to rein in his amusement.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he finally said. “And, Piper, you jump to conclusions quicker than anyone I’ve ever met. You take off at a tangent before I even get a chance to explain.”

She nodded. “I’ve heard that before. I’ve been told I might be a bit...overly enthusiastic.”

“That’s an understatement.” He spoke gently. “I’m going to pay a visit to an elderly widow who used to know my father.”

Of course her mind whirled at that. She could think of several different scenarios now, especially since she’d known his father. There were drunks and there were abusive drunks. Cord’s father fell into the latter category.

She ventured a guess, choosing the imaginary scenario least likely to offend him. “Collecting rent?”

“No.” Draining the last of his coffee, he set the mug down with a thump. “It’s actually none of your business.”

“Of course you realize your evasiveness only makes me want to know the truth, right?” She grinned. “Sorry, but I’m nosy like that. And if you didn’t want me to be all up in your business, you shouldn’t have insisted I stay with you.”

He nodded, conceding her point. “Fine.” Checking his watch once more, he faced her. “You can come with me. I’ll explain in the car. But on one condition. No matter what you think or believe or how you feel about the situation, I’d appreciate if you’d keep your opinion to yourself. Can you do that?”

She had no idea. In fact, she rather doubted it. “Of course,” she replied, intrigued. One thing she had begun to learn about Cord was that he certainly wasn’t boring. Or dumb. She’d met other male bodybuilder types before who were equally great to look at until they opened their mouths. Not him. He was the most fascinating man she’d ever met.

“When do we leave?” she asked, since he’d glanced at his watch a third time.

“Whenever you’re ready. It’s about a forty-five-minute drive each way, without traffic.”

“Okay.” Placing her mug next to his, she smiled her brightest smile. “Give me a minute to freshen up. I’ll be right back.”

He nodded, his expression either downright unenthused or simply resigned.

“We’ll also discuss your niece while we’re driving.” Glancing back over her shoulder, she raised her brows. “I promise I won’t waste your time.”

Back in her room, she checked her appearance in the mirror, then used her phone to see the outside temperature. November in Texas, even this late in the month, could run the gamut from freezing to downright balmy. Since today’s high had been forecast in the low fifties, she grabbed a light jacket, just in case.

When she reemerged just a few minutes later, Cord waited in the living room, jiggling his car keys in his hand. The sunlight streaming in the eastern window turned his dark hair to gold. “Ready?”

Temporarily struck dumb, she pushed away the aching need to touch him and nodded.

She waited until they’d backed out of his driveway and turned off his street before speaking, even though she wanted to bounce up and down in her seat like an impatient child. “Okay, so where exactly are we going?”

Unsmiling, he shot her a glance. “Did you ever know Ms. Berens? Most people called her the Widow Berens. Her first name is Lorraine.”

The name didn’t ring a bell. Piper finally shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Her husband used to own the pharmacy on Main Street, though he passed away, probably before you were born. She sold it and banked the money, intending to use it to live on for the rest of her life. I believe she supplements her income by making and selling custom quilts.”

Piper nodded. “I’ve seen some of her quilts. They’re beautiful.”

“Yes they are. Well, back when my daddy was alive, he ran a scam on her. This was before internet dating scams, but he did something similar to her. She was lonely, he was a good-looking man, and he convinced her that he loved her.”

“Oh, no.” Piper feared she knew what he’d say next.

“He bilked her out of her entire savings.” His grim voice told her what he thought of that. “Ever since I learned about it, I’ve been trying to make restitution by paying her back a little at a time.”

Moved, she nodded, looking away so he wouldn’t see the rawness of her emotions in her eyes or face. She’d always felt things deeply, a trait she’d learned at an early age to keep hidden to avoid ridicule. “That’s kind of you,” she managed, glad her voice sounded even. “Not many people would feel responsible for their father’s sins.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He shrugged. “All I know is that it’s the right thing to do. She was gullible and trusted the wrong man. My father didn’t spend one second regretting what he did to her, not even on the day he died.”

Hearing the trace of bitterness in his voice, she nodded. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Like what?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Anything to help her. Cooking, cleaning, laundry?”

“I guess you can ask her. As far as I can tell, she’s still able to take pretty good care of herself.”

By the time he turned off the paved farm-to-market road onto a rutted, dirt one, Piper felt more like herself than she had since she’d been arrested. She’d always said helping others was the best medicine. The very act took all the focus off one’s troubles. Marceline had scoffed, as had Fowler, and Piper’s adoptive mother, Whitney. Her adoptive brother Reid had always smiled with pride. He’d often whispered to Piper how proud he was of her.

Piper wondered what Reid thought about her now.

“Here we are,” Cord said, turning into a long, gravel drive. A black metal gate that needed paint guarded the entrance, though it sat open, the part that closed hung crookedly from one hinge.

Despite this, the place felt homey rather than decrepit. She felt a sense of peace here.

The white farmhouse sat back from the road, under the shade of five huge live oak trees. “It’s nice. The wood siding appears to have been freshly painted, unlike that gate.”

He grimaced. “Yeah, I should’ve fixed that last time I was out here. No time to do it today, so it’ll have to wait.”

“Does Ms. Berens have children to help her?”

“No. At least not as far as I know. She’s never mentioned any kids and I certainly haven’t seen any in all the years I’ve known her.”

Once he killed the engine, he turned to look at her. “Do you want to wait out here?”

“Oh, heck no.” She grinned to take the sting off her words. “I want to meet her. I’m guessing she loves to have company.”

To her surprise, he grinned back at her. “That she does. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

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