Stories of family and romance beneath the Big Sky!

“I can handle trouble, David.”

He grinned again, then moved out the door and pulled it almost shut behind him.

She couldn’t help smiling. Her skin felt alive and tingly even though the only touch she and David had shared had been slight and over too quickly. But there was something about the lazy way the man looked at her that made her feel that he had touched her time and time again. There was something about the quiet, deep tone in his voice when he said her name.

“The man is definitely right,” she whispered to no one in particular. “It’s a good thing you know how to handle trouble. He may be a top-notch agent, but David Hannon is going to be a major source of very deep trouble.”

Just Pretending

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Myrna Mackenzie

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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MYRNA MACKENZIE

grew up not having a clue what she wanted to be (she hadn’t been born a princess—the one job she thought she might like, because of the steady flow of pretty dresses and crowns), but she knew that she loved stories and happy endings, so falling into life as a romance writer was pretty much inevitable. An award-winning author who has written more than thirty-five novels, Myrna was born in a small town in Dunklin County, Missouri, grew up just outside Chicago and now divides her time between two lakes in Chicago and Wisconsin, both very different and both very beautiful. She adores the internet (which still seems magical after all these years), loves coffee, hiking, “attempting” gardening (without much success), cooking and knitting. Readers (and other potential gardeners, cooks, knitters, writers, etc.) can visit Myrna online at www.myrnamackenzie.com.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Four teen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter One

The town of White horn, Montana, didn’t look as though it had just been kicked in the teeth, David Hannon thought as he pushed through the outer doors of the police station. The July sky was blue, the sun was out, the mountains in the background were spectacular, and the town appeared to be every man’s vision of the perfect place to settle down. But, of course, if everything in his hometown had been perfect lately, he wouldn’t be here. At least not on a search for the truth.

David moved beyond the sunlight and into the station. He removed his dark sunglasses, smiled down at the middle-aged woman sitting behind the desk and told her who he was and who he wanted to see. She scribbled his message down on a scrap of paper and excused herself.

“Hey, Hannon, it’s been forever. Good to see you,” a booming voice called, snagging his attention as David walked further into the room and grinned at the deputy sheriff heading his way. “But if you wanted to catch any of those weddings your family’s been staging lately, you’re too late. Of course, the way your clan has been falling, there might be something Cupid’s slipped into the water supply. Better watch out. You could be next. Just another smooth bachelor fallen facedown in the wedding cake.”

David shook his head, still grinning as he reached out to shake his old friend’s hand. There had been a couple of unexpected weddings in his family in the past few months. But that wasn’t why he had returned.

“Reed, it’s great to see you, too. And you’re right. I only wish I could have made it here in time for both Frannie’s and Cleo’s weddings, but I couldn’t get away at the time.” It was the truth. It had nearly killed him that he hadn’t been able to get here in time to see the sister and cousin he was crazy about each take their turn walking down the aisle.

“So, you missed the weddings and now you’re here for…”

“To see my home and family, kiss the brides, congratulate the grooms on their good fortune, say hi to all my old buddies,” he said. “Do a little nosing around while I’m here.”

“Thought so,” the man said. “Can’t blame you. I’d be doing the same, if it were me, considering all the things that have been going on.”

Another deputy showed up and slapped David on the back. “David, it’s good to see that pretty face of yours. You don’t come around nearly enough. Means less women fainting at your feet, more dates for me, but still we’ve all missed you, bud. I couldn’t help but hear what you said. That nosing around you’re talking about have anything to do with those bodies that were found at the future resort/casino site out on Kincaid land?”

David tilted his head, reluctant to say too much until he knew which way the clouds were rolling in. “I thought I’d see if I could help out.”

“In an official capacity? FBI send you to assist?”

More like they hadn’t stopped him. His superior had known where David was going when he requested a leave of absence and he also knew what was going on here in White horn, but David was overdue for some time off. Still, it was a mark of Phil’s confidence in his professionalism that the man had okayed the leave without question. “Don’t get in too deep, Hannon, or I’ll have to call you back,” was his only comment. David didn’t plan to give Phil any reason to do that, but he fully intended to get at the truth of what had happened here in his hometown.

“Yeah, are you here as Special Agent Hannon or simply as David Hannon, one of White-horn’s favorite wandering sons?” another man asked with a chuckle.

“We’ll see,” David answered with a shrug and a grin. “Who’s the chief investigating officer on this one?” A lot would depend on how open-minded and cooperative the officer was.

The men exchanged a few sidelong glances. “That would be Detective Neal. Over there,” one man said.

David turned and looked toward the back of the room where his old friend had pointed and met with a sea-green-eyed stare and a pair of raised delicate blond brows. She was tall, slender, very crisp, her white blouse a sharp contrast to her black pantsuit. Her outfit and her demeanor said she was no-nonsense, just as her position required her to be. Nothing unusual about that. David had worked with plenty of female special agents, trusted his back to more than a few. Some of them had been colleagues, some friends, some more. None of them had ever made him think of hot nights and tangled sheets and drinking champagne from a woman’s lips. Until this second, that is. This lady detective was definitely a very special case, and she was frowning at him right now. She made one last comment to the person she’d been conversing with and started walking his way.

“Detective Neal?” David asked the man standing next to him.

“Very definitely, Hannon. Have a care. Gretchen’s relatively new to the area, but she’s one of the best. Worked the streets of Miami for a while. She’s knowledgeable, she’s fair and caring, but she’s tough. You may be able to charm most women with a single crook of your finger, but Gretchen takes her work very seriously and if you don’t do the same, she bites.”

The man’s words were teasing, but David could hear the respect in his friend’s voice.

“I wouldn’t imagine the sheriff would give his biggest case to someone who didn’t know how to do the job. Rafe’s too smart for that,” he agreed.

“She know who and what you are?” the man asked.

“Could be. Or maybe not. Catch you later,” David said quietly as he strode toward Detective Neal.

He didn’t know what the lady knew about him other than that he’d sent a note asking to see her, and those killer green eyes told him nothing. She moved across the room with purpose and efficiency, studying him as she advanced.

“Mr. Hannon?” she asked, looking down at the note the officer at the desk had taken to her. She stepped up beside David and he noted that in spite of his six-footone-inch frame, she didn’t have to look up very far to stare into his eyes. “You must be related to Frannie, then?”

“My sister,” he agreed.

“Frannie was one of the first people I met when I arrived here,” the lady said with a carefully polite smile. “She made a stranger feel welcome. But you didn’t come here to talk about your family. You’re here on police business, I’m told. You know something of one of my cases? You have information you’d like to provide to the authorities, perhaps, Mr. Hannon?”

Her voice was the cool smoky kind that could make a man think about bed when he should be thinking about business. Her thick, honeyed hair moved as she spoke, brushing her jawline. David had an undeniable itch to reach out and sample the silky texture of the tempting shimmery stuff. Like a curious child, he mused. Or a man in the mood to get his face slapped. He tilted his lips up in a bemused grin.

“I’m here on a matter of public concern, Detective Neal,” he said, schooling his thoughts to the matter at hand. “You’re handling the Raven Hunter murder and the death of Peter Cook. I understand that both bodies were found on the site of the future resort/casino being built in the area and that Peter Cook was one of the employees on the site. I’m here to look into those cases.”

She raised one brow. “What reason would you have for doing that, Mr. Hannon?” she asked, that boudoir voice quiet but firm.

“David,” he said simply. “Special agent. FBI,” he added, removing his credentials from the pocket of his sports jacket and flashing them. “I have reason to believe I could be of service here.”

“I see.”

He doubted that very much, but he could see something. Those beautiful green eyes had narrowed. He’d at least gotten her complete attention.

“I haven’t heard anything from the Bureau indicating that you were on your way, Mr. Hannon,” she said, ignoring his suggestion that she call him by his first name. “You’re telling me you’ve been assigned to my case for some reason?”

“I don’t recall putting it that way.”

“Just what way would you put it, then? If you’re not here officially, why would you offer your services?”

“This is my home. I have an interest.”

“And Jeremiah Kincaid, the chief suspect in the Raven Hunter murder, was your uncle.”

David nodded his agreement. “We weren’t close.”

The lady took a deep breath. “There was animosity between you?”

The slight look of hope in her eyes had David smiling. “Nice try, Detective, but no, I wouldn’t say that. I didn’t really know Jeremiah well. He didn’t take much interest in his sisters’ off spring. The man had…other interests.” The wary look that crossed the lady’s face told David that she knew exactly what he meant and that she was wondering if the family traits were passed down through the male bloodlines. His uncle had been an infamous womanizer.

As for David, he’d been blessed with more than his share of female companionship, and he hadn’t failed to notice that while Gretchen Neal did her best to shelve her femininity during working hours, she couldn’t hide that rose-and-cream complexion of hers. But just because he’d noticed the lady’s skin, that didn’t mean he was anything like his disreputable uncle.

David held out his hands in a gesture of surrender, but he arched one brow in obvious challenge.

“Look, Detective, I’ll be honest. I’m interested in this case because this is my hometown. It’s no secret that the people on the Laughing Horse Reservation have wanted to build this casino and resort for a while and that it will bring them much needed revenue. It’s also no secret that this deal has been made possible only because the people from the rez and a few private investors have joined forces to cross reservation lines and build some badly needed bridges between the town and the reservation. Like everyone else here, I want that to succeed. Finding bodies on the affected land has put a halt to that construction and those bridges for now, so, yes, I have an interest in that sense. But I’m also interested because all these ‘discoveries,’ these bodies, seem to have upset my aunt Celeste tremendously. Jeremiah was her brother, Raven was the father of her niece, Summer, and this brings back memories of her sister Blanche’s death, as well. She’s naturally upset, so much so that she isn’t sleeping. She isn’t eating right, I’m told. If I can help in any way, assist with the case and help move things more quickly, I’d want to do that.”

“There’s no reason for you to get involved. This is a homicide. Not an FBI matter. Raven Hunter’s remains weren’t found on the reservation, and the White horn force is an excellent one. We’re capable of handling this alone.” Gretchen Neal’s tone and her demeanor projected absolute calm. She was good, but not good enough to hide that trace element of annoyance in her eyes. She was in charge here and she didn’t like the implication that she needed outside help to do her job.

“I’m not implying that you’re not capable, Detective,” David said, keeping his voice cool and soothing. “That doesn’t mean that this department, just like any other law enforcement agency, couldn’t use a little assistance when it’s offered gratis. You can’t tell me that this special arrangement doesn’t follow standard procedure, because White horn has never really been known for doing that. You’ve got Rafe, a county sheriff, in charge of officers in the town and deputy sheriffs out into the rest of the county. Those jobs have always over lapped, and territories have been crossed when it was necessary to keep the citizens of the area safe. It’s a maverick setup that makes White horn special—and effective. Why not take it a step farther and get a little help from another agency, as well?”

The smallest of smiles lifted her lips and David had the feeling that he’d been given an unexpected gift. Her smile transformed her face, making her eyes light up. He had an urge to take a step closer. He squelched it, sure that this lady who was fighting so hard to keep him out of her investigation definitely wouldn’t want him in her personal space.

“You like to argue, don’t you, Mr. Hannon?” she asked with a touch of laughter in her voice. “Well, you’re right, I can’t debate the procedural issue, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to take on volunteer officers. We’ve had plenty of work trying to keep the site uncontaminated. People seem to want to flock to a murder scene for some reason. I’m sorry, but in my book, you’d be another warm body wandering over the site.”

She stood her ground, her green gaze apologetic but immovable. David had to give Gretchen Neal credit. She wasn’t going to let just anyone waltz in here and start calling the shots. He could see why Rafe Rawlings had put her in charge.

He raised one brow. “You make a good point there, Detective Neal, but I can assure you that won’t be a problem. In my line of work, dead bodies show up more often than I care to remember.” As always, David did his best not to think back on those scenes. Moving on was the only way to get past the memories and deal with the job effectively. He didn’t like sloppy work any more than Gretchen Neal did.

“Ms. Neal,” he continued. “I assure you I’ll keep my warm body out of the way as much as possible. I’m here to help, not to hinder.” His voice swooped low on those last words, almost the way a man would speak to a lover, and the lady blinked. She raised her chin higher, the slightest touch of rose in her cheeks just about the only hint that she was anything other than calm. He understood her consternation. He’d been a loner for most of his life and he knew all about that need to hold everything close, that unwillingness to give up even one thread of control to anyone.

For one second, one very brief second when she looked up at him, David could have sworn that the look in Gretchen Neal’s eyes spoke of vulnerability. Immediately the shades came down on her soul.

“I’m sure you mean well, but I—that is, I really don’t know you, Mr. Hannon, so I can’t very well take your word on that, can I? Would you take me on without question if the circumstances were reversed?”

A low chuckle sounded behind her and David was glad for the interruption. She made a good point, an excellent point, but he wasn’t sure just how he would have answered. Gretchen Neal was an eyeful and an armful—and a good cop, according to her co-workers and his own gut instinct. David had the feeling she’d be a hard lady to turn away from.

“Easy, Gretch,” Rafe Rawlings, sheriff and owner of the low chuckle said. “I know this guy. He’s clean. How’ve you been, David?”

“Busy,” David said with a smile as he shook hands with the sheriff. “But probably not as busy as you appear to have been lately.”

Rafe shrugged. “I hear you’re going to give us a hand. In an unofficial capacity, that is. Just heard from Phil Baker.”

“In an unofficial way,” David agreed.

“Rafe, have you considered the problems? This case is personal for Mr. Hannon,” Gretchen said.

Rafe held up one hand. “You know almost everyone in town, Gretchen, and so do I. All our cases are personal.”

“They’re not family.”

“David’s a pro. One of the best and brightest. He’ll handle it.”

She opened her mouth, then shut it again, but her eyes were worried when she hazarded a glance at David. Clearly she wouldn’t take her argument to the next step, blatantly questioning his professionalism, but she still didn’t like the situation.

“It’s a good move, Gretchen,” Rafe said quietly. “David’s lived here all his life. I know him. He cares what happens here. He’ll make a good partner. You lead. He’ll assist. Tomorrow will be soon enough to start. You’re a pro, too, Gretch. Get over your objections by the morning. That’s an order.”

She sighed and nodded slightly. “You’re the sheriff, Sheriff.”

Rafe smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he said goodbye and strolled away.

“Partners?” she whispered, her consternation evident.

David wanted to smile at the break in her voice, but he restrained himself. This lady didn’t want him around at all, and he’d already won the battle. No point in aggravating the good detective.

“Get to know me, Neal, before you decide I’m the enemy. I’m interested in the truth,” he said quietly. “And I intend to follow this through to the end no matter what that truth may turn out to be.”

He also intended to discover another truth if he could, David thought as he bid her good-day. What was it about Gretchen Neal’s soft green eyes that made him want to step in close and risk her bite? Just once before this case was closed, he hoped he’d get the chance to find out.

She’d argued too hard, Gretchen thought when David Hannon walked away, and she knew the reason. It wasn’t because of his personal connection to the case, although she’d been right to question it and Rafe had been right to set her straight. It wasn’t even because of the implication that she could use help from an outside agency, although her pride made her like to think that she could close this case alone. It did have something to do with the fact that this man was clearly going to be difficult to work with. He was going to want to lead. She could tell that already. Even more than that, though, her resistance was because of her reaction the first moment she’d turned and seen David Hannon. There was something about that dark sweep of hair, those intense emerald eyes, that made a person feel as if he knew what sensual dreams flitted through her thoughts when she lay sleeping and open and vulnerable. He had a strong jaw and a mouth that was a slash of sinful temptation. He looked like a man who drank a lot of champagne out of a lot of women’s slippers—and liked it.

Her breath had caught in her throat in a completely unprofessional way. It wasn’t that she was unused to men giving her those speculative looks. She spent a lot of time with men. Most of her time, in fact, and she liked men. She liked dating, but she kept work and play very separate. She never got involved with other law enforcement officers. She never got involved with anyone too deeply and what’s more, she didn’t like feeling and doing things that just weren’t smart. Having a physical reaction to David Hannon was plain stupid and unacceptable. Especially if she was going to work with him in close quarters.

And she was, it seemed, because when she arrived at the station the next morning David was there before her. When she walked up to her desk and found him lounging in her chair, studying a file, his tall, dark good looks hit her like an express train at full throttle. The man was smooth, James Bond smooth, with that wicked half smile and those deep knowing eyes that had, no doubt, convinced a good number of women that virginity was a very bad thing to hang on to. She’d just bet he knew how to use that face, that body and that convincing, seductive way of talking to get whatever he wanted, just as he had yesterday. Good thing she was a pro, Gretchen thought. She’d gotten past the wallop her first glance of David Hannon had given her and now she was back in charge. Of herself and this case. And she would remain that way.

“Ready to take me on?” he asked sweetly.

She smiled back at him just as sweetly. “I’m always ready and able to handle anything.”

He raised one brow and grinned knowingly. Gretchen felt her heart trip over a speed bump too quickly, but she ignored the feeling.

“Let’s get started, Mr. Hannon.”

“David.”

“David,” she reluctantly agreed.

He waited, a patient smile on his lips.

“All right, okay, yes, I’m Gretchen,” she finally said, reaching for the folder. “Shall we go…David?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” He stood, looking down at her, and for one swift second she wished he were a little less tall, a little less broad-shouldered and polished. Maybe then she could think of him as just another cop of sorts. Must be the way he wore those sports jackets so elegantly or the fact that his white shirt looked good against his tanned skin.

“I’ll fill you in as we drive,” she managed to say, leading him out the door of the station to her plain white unmarked car. For one second, he headed for the driver’s side, then paused, a sheepish smile on his face as she stopped dead in her tracks. “Sorry, Gretchen.”

“You’re used to being in charge.” Her words were resigned.

He shrugged, an admission of the truth. “I’m sure I’ll get used to being second in command in time.”

The last thing David Hannon was, was anyone’s assistant. He was a man who knew how to lead and who liked to lead, and he was being gracious now by not pointing that out.

Gretchen sighed. “We’ll both get used to it, David. Orders are orders.”

As they cruised down the short streets of White-horn and out into the rolling, rugged country beyond, David studied Gretchen’s profile. She was soft, fresh, a green-eyed beauty clad in another pristine pantsuit of stark navy. The dark suit and white blouse offset the golden glow of her hair, which feathered over her collar. Gretchen Neal might be a hard-edged detective, but she was packaged in the softness of a very womanly body. A delicious contrast.

She intrigued, and he was used to women intriguing. He’d grown up in White horn, surrounded by his father and a number of females. His aunt, his mother, his sister and all those female cousins. Asthma had made him sickly, a victim of his condition, as a boy, and he’d grown used to a life surrounded by attentive, caring women. A life without close friends his age, it was true. He hadn’t been able to do most of the things other kids had done. Still, he’d learned a lot about women in those years and he’d learned still more as he’d grown up and grown healthy. Women fascinated him and he’d enjoyed sampling more than his share. Gretchen was different, though. He could see that right from the start. Her shell was hard, as it had to be, but the core of her…well, that part of her fascinated him immensely. He very definitely wondered what exactly lay under that keep-your-distance armor of hers.

“You grew up in Miami?” he asked, his voice low and coaxing.

Her hands tightened on the wheel. “I grew up everywhere for a while. An army brat, but yes, we landed in Miami when I was ten.”

“How’d you end up here?”

She turned for just a second to look at him and she shrugged, a small smile on her face.

“Trying to soften me up, David?”

He smiled as she turned back to the road. “Maybe. Mostly I’m just interested in knowing who you are. It’s important for partners to know something of each other, don’t you think? I’m responsible for your life from here on out. You’re responsible for mine.”

She glanced his way again, a dawning respect in the look she gave him. “You’re right. It’s very important to know whose hands you’re placing your life in. I know I came on a bit strong yesterday, but I felt it was necessary, David.”

“I never doubted your methods, your motives or your abilities, lady,” he said seriously, truthfully. “Rafe chose you.”

“And you. I’m sure you are good at what you do.”

He tilted his head at her somewhat hesitant compliment. “How’d you end up in White horn, Gretchen? This is a long way from the mean streets of Miami.”

She smiled broadly for the first time, tilting her head up with pleasure, her smile sliding into her eyes to light them up like pale green flames, and David felt a zip of heated sensation shoot straight through his body. “My grand mother lived in Elk Springs. I used to come visit her, and it was an instant love affair between Montana and me. I moved to Elk Springs for a while four years ago, but White horn was a natural when Dakota Winston retired from the force. I love the size of the town, the location, the people, the mountain scenery surrounded by ranches… It’s home for me now, the best I’ve ever known.”

“No family here?”

Her low laugh filled the vehicle, an entrancing sound. David figured the lady might con a few criminals into surrendering just by seducing them with that laugh. “I have family everywhere,” she confided. “Three brothers and four sisters. I don’t remember a time in my life until now when I actually had a room to myself. Right now they’re all scattered, but we keep in touch. We’re as close as a phone or a modem or an airport can make us.”

He eased back more fully into his seat, relaxing as he stretched his long legs out, pleased that she’d let down her barriers just for a moment.

“So now you know me,” she said.

He had a feeling she’d just shown him the sheerest part of her surface, and that she didn’t intend to show him much more. Gretchen Neal was cautious.

“And what about you?” she asked. “You’re one of the Kincaids. Your family runs the Big Sky Bed & Breakfast. Your father is an architect. Your sister is a banker. One cousin runs a day care center. Your entire family is practically royalty in this town.”

“We’re just people, Gretchen.”

The lady actually rolled her eyes. “You believe that, don’t you?”

“It’s true.”

“David, after you left the station yesterday, every woman in the place was looking in the mirror, trying to see if she’d looked her best when you were there. This is not normal behavior around the station, in case you didn’t know that. You’re— Well, I’m sure you know what you look like and when you add that to the allure of being a Kincaid, that makes you a temptation to most of the women around here. Especially to those looking for husbands.”

She sounded and looked somewhat flustered. David raised one brow. “Just most of the women? Gretchen, you wound me. Deeply.”

Her chuckle tempted him to lean closer. “Sorry, I’m just…immune. Some of us are wedded and bedded to our jobs. Marriage isn’t an option for me.”

That got his attention. “So you’re dead set against marriage. Interesting. Is it because of your job?”

She took one hand from the wheel and held it out, palm up. “Not really. And don’t get me wrong. I like men just fine and I’m not anti-marriage. It’s a perfect choice for some people, but it’s not for me. I’ve already had my family, and while I adore every member of the Neal clan and I’d go out on the skinniest limb for any one of my brothers or sisters, I’m just not prepared to go that route again. I raised babies when I was still very young, I changed diapers, took temperatures, dried eyes and monitored curfew to help my mother out. Now I’m done with that. I like living alone and being free to make my own choices. And I intend to go on doing just that. I’m a lifer now, a loner. So don’t get panicky, Hannon. The women in the station may bat their eyes at you and run to get you coffee if you purr at them, but you’re safe from me.”

He chuckled. “You may find this hard to believe, but in spite of being a Kincaid, I don’t expect anyone, under any circumstances, to fetch coffee for me. And as for being safe from you, well…” He held out both hands. “Somehow I just wasn’t all that worried that you were going to crawl across the gearshift and onto my lap.”

David was surprised and entranced by the slight blush on her cheeks. She was tough, but not that tough. She didn’t want to get married, and it sounded as if she had good reasons. He had some good reasons of his own, the chief one being that he’d been a loner way too much of his life to be real good at maintaining a relationship for very long, not to mention all the bad relationships he’d watched his friends get embroiled in. But marriage, a wife, kids, had a certain dream like fantasy appeal to him. He wished he had the ability to make a go of it. Unfortunately, he didn’t. Besides, right now, there were more important things to consider.

“You think we’ve dropped enough barriers to enable you to trust me with a few of the details of the case now?” he asked.

Gretchen felt the low hum of David’s voice go through her like a touch that could seduce every secret out of her. But of course, they were working together on this case. It was time to give her assistant some assistance.

“You know that a resort casino is in the plans, and that part of it is going to be built on Kincaid land?”

He nodded. “The land belongs to distant relatives. It’s destined to be inherited by Gabriel Reilly Baxter, Garrett Kincaid’s youngest grandson.”

“Yes, the Kincaid portion, about fifteen acres, will house a hotel and spa, and the other half of the development being built on thirty acres of the Laughing Horse Reservation will consist of the casino as well as some honeymoon cottages up in the mountains. It’s a joint venture, one that makes sense, I suppose. The Cheyenne provide land that can be used for a casino and the private investors chip in the funding. Lyle Brooks has rounded up some silent investors to finance the project, and Lyle’s in charge of much of the operation. You’re friends with him?”

David frowned. “Why do you say that?”

She shook her head, strands of her hair catching on her lips. She carelessly freed it and gave him a look. “Lyle’s another distant relative, isn’t he? Another Kincaid, a grandson of Garrett Kincaid’s, and a member of the country club set I’m sure you belong to.” She wanted to apologize for what had to sound like an accusation, but she had to place all her cards on the table.

“You could have mentioned those things to Rafe yesterday.”

“Rafe knows what I know. It’s obviously not a problem for him.”

“And for you?”

She studied him, a small frown between her eyes. “It’s just something that needed mentioning.”

“No need to apologize,” he said, even though she hadn’t done that. “You’re right. It needed mentioning. I suppose that’s why Rafe put you in charge. You don’t avoid the tough questions even though it would be easier to do so.”

“No, I don’t, but I do try to be fair.” It was the best she could do. He needed to know that she would still be cautious, but that she would trust him as far as she could, given the circumstances.

“I’m beginning to see that, and I agree that you need to know more of my background. The fact is that Lyle and I don’t share martinis at the country club. We come from two different sides of the family and until very recently, long after I moved away, Lyle’s side lived completely in western Montana. I don’t really know the man.”

Gretchen gave him a nod. He supposed that meant that she trusted him a little bit anyway. Or maybe it merely meant that she didn’t see any point in arguing about what she couldn’t change.

He stared at her, trying to decipher that almost unreadable expression she worked so hard at maintaining.

“All right,” he said. “So Lyle is heavily involved in the resort/casino deal and then a skeleton shows up when they begin to dig the hotel site. I’ve heard that much and also that there was a bullet lodged in the rib bone. The bones belong to Raven Hunter, a Native American who went missing from the reservation thirty years ago.”

“A man who had made Jeremiah Kincaid angry by falling in love with Jeremiah’s sister, Blanche,” she added.

“You didn’t add the obvious—that Blanche was my aunt and she died in child birth. The baby she gave birth to is my cousin, Summer. It’s an old story, one the Kincaids don’t talk about too much. And now there’s a body and an old murder to solve. Anything I should know that wasn’t in the file?” David asked.

She shook her head. “We’ve already inter viewed those people in the area who might have had a link to Raven in any way. Old friends, your mother, your aunt, people on the rez who came in contact with him. It’s all there in black and white, what little there is. Right now the case is more or less on hold while we wait for Jackson Hawk, the tribal attorney, to locate Storm Hunter, Raven’s brother. We need to find out if Storm knows any more than we do about what happened all those years ago. But Storm’s been gone from the area almost as long as Raven has.”

David blew out a deep breath. “With the passage of time and the two principals both deceased, this case will be a challenge. And Peter Cook?”

“A construction worker,” she explained. “It appears that he slipped and fell into the hole he’d dug. Until we know more, excavation has ceased completely.”

“Any new leads coming in?”

She had to smile at that one. “Every day. Ghosts. Aliens. People who claim they were out walking their dog in the middle of nowhere and they heard a rustle in the bushes.”

His smile indicated a knowledge of what she was talking about. He’d been doing this for a long time, too. “Any likely leads, I guess I should have said.”

“Not yet.”

But at that moment, the radio crackled and the dispatcher came on. An armed robbery in progress. Just outside of town on a road they’d passed minutes ago.

Gretchen spun the car around and headed for the scene.

A hundred yards from their destination, she slowed and David got out of the car. As she came around the side, he pinioned her with a look. “I’ll go in through the back door,” he said, his voice barely stirring the air. “Stay outside the front in case someone tries to make a run out that door.” He moved silently back into the trees and toward the house.

Gretchen blinked. Obviously there was a problem here with chain of command. But David was already moving and she would not risk his life by stopping to stamp her foot and assert her authority.

At least not this moment.

She pulled out her weapon and approached the house.

Chapter Two

It was broad daylight but the shades on the little cottage had been pulled, blocking out most of the sunshine. David slid up to the kitchen window and peered in, but the curtains covering the windows were too thick to see inside.

“Don’t touch those. Go away from here. Leave me and my things alone,” he heard an elderly woman plead.

The sound of shoes shuffling on a bare floor drifted out, followed by a loud cracking sound and a grunt.

The woman squealed and David shoved against the thin wood of the door, which fell open beneath his weight. His gun was drawn as he bulleted through the entrance. He hoped that Gretchen was armed and ready as he got his first glimpse of the big, beefy man whirling toward the front door where she would be waiting.

“Freeze. Police,” David ordered.

The man spun around, hands high, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“Don’t shoot,” the man called as Gretchen came through the front door, holding him in the sights of her 9 mm.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” the elderly woman said. “I didn’t know what to do when I heard someone in the house.”

“Mr. Adkins?” Gretchen asked, slowly lowering her gun to her side.

The man hung his head. David looked at Gretchen. She motioned for him to put his gun away.

“He was stealing cookies I made for the church bake sale,” the woman declared. “I had to slap his hands to make him drop them.”

David looked down at the red prints on the man’s wrists.

“I wasn’t stealing anything,” the old man said.

“You’re in my house, aren’t you?” the woman demanded. “And you’re armed. You’ve got a big rock in your pocket. I saw you studying it like you were going to throw it at me.”

Her words jarred something in David’s memory. “Mr. Adkins? Earnest Adkins?”

When the man didn’t answer, David looked to Gretchen, who nodded.

David let out a sigh. He gazed at the man he’d once known rather well. Time had made changes.

“That rock in your pocket,” David said, moving in closer. “I don’t suppose you had a particularly good reason for carrying it around, did you?”

The man looked up, his eyes not quite recovered from the fear of having two guns trained on him. He nodded slightly. “Of course I did. A man carries rocks for a reason. Good reason, too. Just look at this. Isn’t it a beaut?” he asked, pulling the rock from his pocket.

David gazed down at what really was a fine specimen of milky dolomite. “Mr. Adkins used to teach science at the high school. He studies geology,” David explained.

“He was still stealing my cookies,” the lady mumbled.

“He came into your house?” Gretchen asked gently.

“Yes,” both man and woman said at once.

“The door was open and a cat came in,” Mr. Adkins said. “This lady had left the cookies on the ledge and that big cat was all set to help himself. I was simply moving them,” he said indignantly.

“I don’t see any cat,” the woman whined. David didn’t, either, but the slight itch behind his eyes told him that there was one nearby.

Gretchen must have sensed the cat’s presence, too, because a small smile lifted her lips and she looked around as if she expected to find whatever she was searching for.

“Oscar,” Gretchen suddenly called. A grumbly purr rolled out from behind the kitchen door. Gretchen pulled it back and the biggest, blackest cat David had ever seen strolled out, nose in the air.

“Your buddy?” David asked Gretchen, who was smiling at the cat.

“He gets around the neighborhood. Sometimes he gets into places he shouldn’t be.”

“The man still had a rock in his hand,” the elderly woman stated.

“Always do,” Earnest Adkins said. “Ask him,” he said, motioning to David. “You’re David Hannon, aren’t you? I recognize you now that you’ve put the gun away.”

“I was a member of the science club. I’ve still got a few rocks Mr. Adkins passed on to me when I was there. He’s an expert in local rocks and minerals,” David told the two ladies. “Not that it’s any excuse for trespassing,” he said firmly, frowning at Earnest. “Since you don’t know Earnest, would it be safe to guess that you’re new to the area?” he asked the woman.

The lady let out a sigh and nodded. “Just a couple of months. My husband died last year and I came here to start out fresh, to get away from the city. You—you were just saving my cookies from that cat?” she asked Mr. Adkins.

“Maybe I should have knocked first,” he admitted, “but Oscar was moving pretty fast.”

A slight blush rose on the woman’s still-pretty face. “I suppose I should thank you, then,” she said. “And apologize to the two of you,” she told Gretchen and David. “I’m used to living in the city and that’s made me too cautious, I guess.”

David shook his head. “You were right to call when you felt threatened. It’s always smart to be cautious, especially when there’s an uninvited stranger in your house,” he said, looking pointedly at Mr. Adkins, who mumbled another apology and gripped his rock more tightly.

“But this is embarrassing, now that I know the truth,” the lady said. “What can I do to repay you two for taking the trouble to come over here?”

David knew the woman wouldn’t be happy if he told her that he needed nothing, so he took the easy way out. “I’m sure I should just issue the standard ‘No thanks necessary, ma’am,’ but…what kind of cookies did you say those were?”

The ploy worked. The lady laughed. “Double chocolate chip, and yes, please have some. You, too,” she said to Gretchen and Mr. Adkins. “It’s the least I can do. It won’t hurt me to bake another batch.”

David hazarded a glance at Gretchen then. One brow was raised in a rather superior, knowing smile as if he’d just done something brilliant. And later, when they said their goodbyes and left the cottage headed for the car, she placed her hand on his arm.

“Thank you for being so gracious to her.”

David pulled up short, staring down at the woman—the detective, he corrected himself—standing before him. He could feel the warmth of Gretchen’s slender fingers through the layers of cotton shirt and sports jacket. It was a tantalizing feeling, knowing that only a few bits of cloth lay between his skin and hers. An in appropriate feeling, he reminded himself. They were partners. They needed to work together like a machine, not twine together like man and woman.

“She was uncomfortable. There was no need for that. If something real and dangerous should ever occur, I wouldn’t want her to hesitate about calling the authorities,” he said simply. “And let’s face it, while I’m rather partial to Earnest, he can’t be entering people’s houses even to save their cookies from stray cats.”

Gretchen nodded and they walked on, but once David had climbed back into the car, she didn’t start the engine. Instead she turned to him.

“I appreciate the way you wrapped up this call,” she said, “but I think we have a definite problem here, Hannon.”

He turned and stared into a pair of stubborn green eyes. Her chin was up, her lovely lips were firm, her arms were crossed.

For five whole seconds they simply studied each other. Then he held up both hands. “You’re upset that I invaded your territory. You want to lead.”

“It’s my job,” she said simply. “I intend to do it and do it well.”

He stared at her for a few seconds more.

“I’m sure you’re used to calling your own shots,” she said pointedly, “but—”

“I am,” he agreed. “And I can’t promise not to step on your toes from time to time, but I’ll make an attempt not to overstep my boundaries too often. I’ll do my best to try and curb my basic instincts from now on.”

Gretchen took a long and audible breath, but she merely nodded.

“I’m sure we’ll get the hang of this in time. It takes practice for partners to learn to work as one body.”

He stared at her hard, the vision her words called forth lodging in his mind immediately. A woman, a man above her, thrusting into the softness of her body, making himself a part of her very being. The thought nearly made him groan, and he fought it. He labored to keep his breathing even as he watched the woman seated not two feet away from him.

As he studied her, her eyes suddenly widened slightly as if she’d read his thoughts. Her breathing picked up a tad, but she didn’t drop her gaze from his. She sat as if frozen.

David struggled, pushing the temptation of the image of himself braced above Gretchen to the farthest corner of his mind. “I can’t quite believe you said that,” he finally managed to say, his voice quiet and reasonably controlled, an amused but still somewhat ragged smile on his lips.

“What?” The word was released on a breath. Gretchen sat up straighter, higher.

He smiled in earnest now. She knew darn well what he meant. “Gretchen, has it occurred to you that this is not going to be easy?”

She sighed slightly, rubbing at the frown that formed between her delicate brows. “I think that pretty much says it, yes,” she agreed.

“Why do you think that is?”

“I suppose it’s because I’ve been a rather reluctant participant in this partnership and also because you don’t like taking orders from a woman.”

He shook his head slowly. “I’ve worked with many women in many contexts. Taking my directives from a woman isn’t a problem. Having a relationship with a woman isn’t a problem. Generally speaking, I keep my private and public life separate.”

“We’re not going to have a relationship.”

“Exactly.”

She took a deep breath, waiting for him to finish.

“However,” he continued carefully, “I think it’s only fair to warn you that wrong and stupid and completely out of place as it may be, the fact that you are a fine detective hasn’t quite made me forget that you’re a desirable woman, as well.”

She didn’t move. She almost didn’t appear to be breathing. But he saw her swallow, then blow out a long, slow puff of air.

“Why are you telling me this?” Her voice was low. Sexy. Suspicious.

He shook his head slowly. “I’m telling you because we are going to be working as partners. I’ll trust you to protect my back. I want you to be secure in the knowledge that I intend to protect your life at all costs, but don’t expect me not to react as a man to a woman if you’re going to make provocative comments.”

She stared at him for long seconds. Then she nodded slowly. “Fair enough. I’ll try to think before I speak.”

“And I’ll try not to initiate any…unwarranted bodily contact.”

“Yes,” she said on a cracked whisper. “Touching wouldn’t be smart. It would make working together very difficult. Impossible.”

“I know that, and that’s my point. Finding the thin line we need to walk in the middle of the road is going to be difficult, Gretchen. My fault. My apology.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t be working together at all.”

“Maybe. Except this is your case, and I fully intend to be on it.”

“Rafe might feel differently if he knew we were going to have problems.”

“What are you going to tell him? That I’m having trouble keeping my lips away from those of his top detective?”

He wasn’t even leaning close, but he could feel her presence as if she had wrapped herself around him. Her soap-clean scent enticed him. He forced himself to keep his hands at his sides.

“No. I wouldn’t tell him that. What’s between you and me is…between you and me, Hannon,” she said, releasing another long breath. “We’ll deal with it together. We’ll work through it.”

He raised his lips in the slightest of smiles. “I know women who would have been hyperventilating in a similar situation. You’re an admirable lady, Gretchen.”

“I’m a good detective, too, David.”

“Never let anyone say any different. I liked the way you manhandled Earnest into repairing a few things around Mrs. Barton’s house. A good solution for both of them.”

She smiled. “You’re not trying to flatter me, are you, David?”

He lifted one brow. “Detective Neal, you wound me. I was completely sincere.”

“Thank you very much, then,” she said, starting the car. “So, Agent Hannon, do you think it’s possible that you’re ready to take an order from me now that we’ve established a few truths between us?”

He held out his hands in defeat. She was being a good sport. He had laid his cards on the table in such a way that she might well have been flustered or angry. He had told her the truth, he’d gotten in her face and she was dealing with it, but she still hadn’t given up one millimeter of her authority. He could see why Rafe had put her in charge.

“Just say the word, Gretchen.”

“That’s a lovely sound, David. Since you’re being so cooperative, let’s go get lunch at the Hip Hop Café. And no cookies for you, partner. You’ve had enough for one day.”

David smiled at Gretchen’s attempts to move the conversation onto a lighter plane.

“You’re a hard woman, Gretchen Neal. A real tough lady.”

“I am,” she said more soberly. “And don’t you forget it.”

He wouldn’t. For her sake and the sake of this case, he would do his best to forget that Gretchen was a woman and simply think of her as the partner who was going to help him crack the Raven Hunter case. He hoped something enlightening would happen very soon.

“Gretchen, are you sure the dress is going to fit by the time the wedding takes place? Maybe you should just come in for one more fitting just to be certain. The wedding’s still a few weeks away.”

Gretchen heard the rising panic in her friend Pamela’s voice and did her best to try and put herself in her friend’s shoes. No dice. Gretchen had been a bridesmaid more times than she had fingers and toes, but she never had been a bride and never would be, just as she’d told David yesterday. Still, she did want Pamela to be happy…

“Pam, I promise you this dress is absolutely going to fit. It fits right now and I’m the same size that I’ve been for the past ten years. Everything’s going to be okay, hon. Really.”

“Oh, Gretch, I’m sorry. It’s just…I want everything to be so perfect. You know?”

“I know, Pam.” And she did know that much. Enough of her friends and cousins and sisters had gotten married in the past few years for her to be very familiar with this need for the most beautiful, perfect day of all eternity. “And, Pamela?”

“Yes?”

“Everything is going to be just wonderful. You love Raymond, don’t you?”

“Gretchen, you know he makes my sun rise every morning.”

“And he loves you more than he loves anything else. More than baseball and basketball, which is saying quite a lot for a sports nut like Raymond.”

Her friend giggled on the other end of the line. “All right, all that’s true.”

“Then what more can you ask for, Pamela? The day is going to be perfect even if it rains elephants from the sky. You’re marrying the man of your dreams.”

A long silence hung on the line. A nice silence.

“Pam?”

“You’re right, Gretchen. It’s going to be a wonderful day. Only one thing could make it more perfect.”

Uh-oh. Gretchen had heard this line before. She knew just where her friend was headed.

“It’s not going to happen, Pam. I’ve told all of you, I just don’t want to get married.”

“Not even if you met a special guy?”

“If I meet a special man, we’ll date, we’ll share our thoughts, we’ll probably make love, but in time it’s going to end. I’m just not cut out for husbands and babies. I like my job. I like my life. That’s just not going to change. Nothing’s going to change.”

She was right about that. But it still meant that every time someone asked her to stand up in a wedding or to attend a wedding or even mentioned the words wedding or marriage or husband or children, all her friends and loved ones were going to wish she were different. They were going to try their best to get her to settle down and make them feel that at last she’d fit herself into the world the way they wanted her to fit.

But Pam wasn’t talking. Perhaps she was getting the message. Finally.

“You’re thirty-two, Gretchen. You want to be alone all your life?”

Gretchen couldn’t help chuck ling at that. “Pam, hon, I have seven brothers and sisters, more cousins than is probably legal, and friends all over the country. Almost all of them are generous and loving. Like you, Pamela. They share their lives, their homes, and their children, and I absolutely love that. How could I be lonely? And why do I need to raise my own family when I can just share in everyone else’s whenever I feel the need?”

“Gretchen—”

“Pam, stop. Right now. I’m so happy for you and Raymond. I’m glad you’re getting married and living the life you want. Be happy for me, too. I have everything I could ever need or want.”

More silence.

“Okay, Gretchen, I am happy for you. I’m truly happy if you really do have everything you want.”

Gretchen felt herself relax a bit. She and her friend talked a few minutes longer, but when they finally hung up, a frown formed on Gretchen’s face.

“I do have everything I want,” she whispered. “But just once, just one time, I wish I could show up at a wedding with a man on my arm.” She wouldn’t, of course. Asking a man to travel any distance with her to a wedding implied a closeness that she just didn’t want to encourage. She had enough trouble with men who thought dating a female detective meant a lot of things it would never mean. But wouldn’t it be great to show up with a date? Maybe then all her friends and family would believe that she was truly happy living a life with no ties outside of work. All she needed was a little help from the right kind of man.

Unfortunately the right kind of man didn’t exist in White horn. The only way she was going to find a date for this wedding would be if one fell from the sky and disappeared just as quickly the day after the wedding.

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