“It wasn’t an accident, Ginny,” Cully said, softly

Her breath caught in her throat. She made her lips move. “What happened?”

“They were shot at close range. The house looked like a tornado had gone through it. Lamps smashed, chairs overturned, drawers pulled out from dressers…a real mess.”

She shuddered. “And you have no idea who it was?” Her twinge of awareness at his closeness took her by surprise. She hadn’t expected to still be affected by him like this.

“Not yet.” His mouth tightened in a grim line. For a long moment he kept his gaze on his hands, then slowly he raised his chin. “But I will.”

Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

We have another month of spine-tingling romantic thrillers lined up for you—starting with the much anticipated second book in Joanna Wayne’s tantalizing miniseries duo, HIDDEN PASSIONS: FULL MOON MADNESS. In Just Before Dawn, a reclusive mountain man vows to get to the bottom of a single mother’s terrifying nightmares before darkness closes in.

Award-winning author Leigh Riker makes an exciting debut in the Harlequin Intrigue line this May with Double Take. Next, pulses race out of control in Mask of a Hunter by Sylvie Kurtz—the second installment in THE SEEKERS—when a tough operative’s cover story as doting lover to a pretty librarian threatens to blow up.

Be there from the beginning of our brand-new in-line continuity, SHOTGUN SALLYS! In this exciting trilogy, three young women friends uncover a scandal in the town of Mustang Valley, Texas, that puts their lives—and the lives of the men they love—on the line. Don’t miss Out for Justice by Susan Kearney.

To wrap up a month of can’t-miss romantic suspense, Doreen Roberts debuts in the Harlequin Intrigue line with Official Duty, the next title in our COWBOY COPS thematic promotion. It’s a double-murder investigation that forces a woman out of hiding to face her perilous past…and her pent-up feelings for the sexy sheriff who still has her heart in custody. Last but certainly not least, Emergency Contact by Susan Peterson—part of our DEAD BOLT promotion—is an edgy psychological thriller about a traumatized amnesiac who may have been brainwashed to do the unthinkable….

Enjoy all our selections this month!

Sincerely,

Denise O’Sullivan

Senior Editor,

Harlequin Intrigue

Official Duty
Doreen Roberts

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Doreen Roberts lives with her husband, who is also her manager and her biggest fan, in the beautiful city of Portland, Oregon. She believes that everyone should have a little adventure now and again to add interest to their lives. She believes in taking risks and has been known to embark on an adventure or two of her own. She is happiest, however, when she is creating stories about the biggest adventure of all—falling in love and learning to live happily ever after.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Cully Black—The small-town sheriff thought he’d seen the last of Ginny Matthews. But now she’s back and in trouble, and it’s up to Cully to save her life—and maybe his own, as well.

Ginny Matthews—Ginny had never planned to return to Gold Peak. But when her former foster parents, Mabel and Jim Corbett, are brutally murdered, she’s forced to face the past once more, as well as the deadly present.

Luke Sorenson—The scruffy, shifty quarryman was also a foster child of the Corbetts. He wanted something from them…badly enough to kill?

Old Man Wetherby—The aged, surly recluse always carries a shotgun. He’s mean, he hates Jim Corbett, and he’s out for revenge.

Sally Irwin—Bright and breezy barmaid Sally was Ginny’s best friend in the old days. But this isn’t the old days anymore. Maybe Sally was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe.

David Petersen—Only Sally knows who he is and why he’s in town. She might also know what he’s up to, but if so, she’s not talking.

My thanks to Sheriff Dave Daniel, Josephine County,

Oregon, for your patience and for the valuable

information. You were a great help.

And to Bill, who is my hero in every way,

and who makes all things possible. Thank you. I love you.

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 Fourteen

Chapter One

Sheriff Cully Black jammed his fists hard into the pockets of his black windcheater. Seventy feet below where he stood on a craggy bluff of the mountain, the twin beams from his deputies’ flashlights probed the thick shadows of the night. They roamed across the wreckage of the familiar pickup, searching for signs of life.

Cully knew it was pointless. No one could have survived that crash. He tilted his chin high enough to see past the wide brim of his hat and stared bleakly at the stars scattered across the dark velvet sky. Maybe someone had borrowed the truck. Maybe it was someone else lying crushed behind the wheel.

It was a slim hope but he held on to it until Jed and Cory climbed back up the steep gully and reached the road, both of them panting from the exertion.

Cully braced himself. In the half-light of the waning moon he saw Jed’s face. The deputy had trouble meeting his gaze.

“Sorry, Cully,” he muttered. “Guess there’s nothing we can do now.”

Cully nodded, his lips clamped so tightly together he could taste blood. When he could draw breath, he asked harshly, “Both of them?”

“Yep.”

“You’re sure?”

“Dead sure,” Jed told him, with just a trace of irony.

“Okay. I’ll wait for the medic.” Cully checked his watch. “You two get back to bed. It’ll be dawn in an hour or two.”

“I’ll wait with you.” Jed tipped his hat back and scratched his head.

“Me, too,” Cory muttered.

“He’s gotta come out from Rapid City,” Cully reminded them. “That’s more than forty miles away.” As if echoing his words, the thin wail of a siren floated across the mountainside on the wings of a strong breeze.

“Reckon that’s him now,” Jed said quietly.

Still unable to accept what had happened, Cully drew an unsteady breath. “You’re sure. About down there, I mean.”

Jed’s face looked drawn in the ghostly moonlight. “Cully…”

Cully lifted his hand. “Okay. I just want to know, that’s all.”

He’d seen more than his share of death and destruction during his years in law enforcement. He was hardened by it, almost to the point of detachment. It was part of the job—a job he struggled to give his all.

The law and his horses. That was all he needed to make him happy. There was nothing better to keep his mind off the seamy side of life than taking a wild ride in the saddle under a western sky—head on into the clean, sharp winds that blew in from the mountains.

Right now he wished like hell that he was riding into that wind. Right now he didn’t want to look death in the face. No matter how tough a skin he’d grown, it couldn’t protect him now. Because down there, crushed inside what was left of the shattered pickup, lay the mangled bodies of two people who’d meant the world to him.

Normally his deputies wouldn’t have called him out to the scene of an accident. They would have handled it themselves and made their report in the morning. It had been Jed who’d recognized the pickup and figured he’d want to know about it. Half-asleep, Cully had thrown on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, grabbed his jacket and leaped into his Jeep to hightail it out to Gold Peak.

Jim and Mabel Corbett weren’t just friends and neighbors. They’d given him a home and stability when he’d needed it the most. They’d given him the chance to turn his life around and become a man.

“Cully?”

At the sound of Jed’s worried voice, Cully lifted his hat and settled it more firmly on his head. The siren wailed again, much closer. “They’re almost here,” he said shortly. “I’m going down there to wait for them.”

“I’ll come, too.”

Cully raised his hand. “No. Give me a moment alone with them.” Without waiting for an answer he plunged, half-sliding, half-leaping, down the gully.

He had to hold his breath as he directed the beam of his flashlight over the crumpled vehicle. Thank God it hadn’t caught fire. He’d prepared himself for what he might see but when he caught sight of Jim’s hand in a death grip on the wheel, his throat closed on him.

According to Jed, the call had come in more than an hour ago. A passing motorist had seen the headlights of the truck careening down the mountain road, then vanish. The witness had also reported the noise of the crash, echoing across the craggy peaks that had given the town its name.

Cully frowned. It was an odd time for Jim and Mabel to be going somewhere. The elderly couple rarely went out at night and usually went to bed after watching the local news at 10:00 p.m. For them to leave their house around two in the morning meant there had to be some kind of emergency.

He sat down on a small boulder and finally allowed himself to think beyond the stark details. Then, and only then, did he let the image of her into his mind.

Ginny.

This would break her heart.

It must have been twelve years since he’d last seen her, yet the very thought of her still jabbed at him like the sting of a scorpion.

She’d been barely nineteen back then. Tall and willowy, her dark hair flowing to her shoulders, her eyes blazing green fire, she’d faced him across the worn slats of the fence that bordered the Corbetts’ house, hurling a tirade of words designed to hurt.

They’d hurt all right, though he’d never let her see that. It had been the toughest thing he’d ever had to do in his life but he’d let her go. It had seemed the right thing to do at the time. He’d spent the past twelve years or so trying to convince himself of that.

He’d died a little when she’d left and he’d died a little more when he’d heard she’d married. It was the last time Mabel had mentioned her name and he’d been too damn proud to ask after that.

Ginny should know about this. She’d want to know. If only he knew how to get in touch with her. Even Jim and Mabel didn’t know where she was. Or so they’d said. Maybe they were just trying to save him from more heartache. In any case, it was too late now. The Corbetts were dead and he’d lost the last fragile connection to the woman he’d never been able to forget.

He sat there, head buried in his hands until the whine of the siren died above his head. He watched the medics work the best they could through the smashed windows of the truck. He wasn’t surprised by the verdict. Both victims apparently had died instantly. They’d know more when they got the bodies out, which wouldn’t be until the next day when they could get equipment down there to pry open the doors.

It wasn’t until much later when alone in his car on his way back home, something else occurred to him. A tiny detail maybe but enough to spark the instincts that had always served him so well in the past.

The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that something was very wrong with the whole picture. Something that didn’t add up. He pressed his foot hard on the accelerator, knowing that now he wouldn’t rest easy again until he’d figured out exactly what had happened in the last hours of the lives of Jim and Mabel Corbett.

THE PUNCH CAME at her hard and fast, aimed straight at her face. She ducked but wasn’t quite quick enough. The cruel fist grazed her cheek, slamming her into the wall. Clutching her bruised shoulder, she faced the man advancing on her.

His contorted face was ugly with fury. He snarled at her, each word piercing her heart like lethal slivers of cold steel. If you ever try to leave me, I’ll hunt you down. I’ll mess up that pretty face of yours so that no man will ever look at you without shuddering.

He raised his hand, holding the pointed blade of the knife just inches from her face. Light glinted along the razor-sharp edge as he brought it closer. You’re mine, Virginia, and you’ll be mine until the day we die. Longer, because if you have the guts to outlive me, I’ll come right back to haunt you. You will never be rid of me. Never.

She tried to call out for help, knowing that none was there. And then she was awake, his mocking laughter still ringing in her ears. Her lunging hand found the lamp and light flooded the room.

She sat up, hugged her knees and rocked until the perspiration on her forehead dried and her heart slowed to its normal beat. The nightmare was nothing new. She’d endured it over and over again.

But then, as the fog of sleep cleared, memory returned. Brandon was dead. Things had changed after all.

She had nothing to fear now. He could never hurt her again. She was finally free.

Or was she? Three months and still the nightmares persisted. Why couldn’t she rid herself of the memories? Why couldn’t she just forget the past, put it all behind her and get on with her life?

You will never be rid of me. Never.

Shuddering, she lay back down and pulled the covers over her bare shoulders. He was right. He may well be dead but he still haunted her dreams and tormented her mind. God help her.

Reluctant to go back to sleep, she finally crawled out of bed and wandered into the kitchen. The digital clock on the wall told her it was a little past 5:00 a.m. Coffee would be awfully good right now.

As the welcome fragrance filled the organized kitchen of her elegant town house, she made a determined effort to banish the last remnants of the nightmare. Even so, she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that had persisted ever since last night.

At first, she hadn’t been too concerned when her phone call a few nights ago had gone unanswered. She had simply assumed that Jim and Mabel were out visiting neighbors, or were enjoying a barn dance in the drafty, beat-up old barn on the Ridgewood Highway, a mile out of Gold Peak.

She filled her cup with steaming black coffee and carried it out to her living room. Sinking onto the sumptuous blue suede couch, she stretched out her legs and tried to still the tremors in her stomach.

When she’d called the next day and still the Corbetts didn’t answer, the niggling worry had begun eating at her. She’d told herself that Jim was probably working in the yard, or fussing with the chickens. Mabel could be hanging out the wash, taking advantage of a stiff breeze to save electricity. Mabel was always looking for ways to save since Jim had retired.

But then she’d realized that the answering machine had been turned off. And that wasn’t like Jim at all. He hated to miss out on anything. He made a point of stopping by the barber’s at least once a week to catch up on the local gossip. He would never intentionally turn off the answering machine.

She’d tried to convince herself that the machine was broken and Jim was having it repaired. Or maybe waiting to buy a new one at Pitkin’s general store. He might even have had to order one from a catalog, or drive into Rapid City to get one. Perhaps that’s where he and Mabel had gone on a sunny afternoon. Shopping in Rapid City.

She’d waited two long days before trying to call again. Still no answer. And now the worry had become a nagging ache.

It had been many years since she’d last seen Mabel and Jim Corbett. When she’d finally found the courage to leave Brandon nine months ago, she’d changed her name and moved to the east coast. Fearing that he’d force her whereabouts from her former foster parents, she’d kept her new address and name a secret, even from them. When she called them, she used her cell phone. Brandon was devious. He had power. He had resources. She wouldn’t be that tough to find.

After the news of his death, she’d thought about going back to Gold Peak to see Jim and Mabel. But the nightmares had been so invasive, so frightening, so realistic, she still hadn’t been able to venture from her safe cocoon—the new life she’d created, where no one knew her history, or her real name.

She wasn’t Ginny Matthews from Gold Peak, Oregon anymore. She wasn’t Virginia Pierce, captive wife of Brandon Pierce. She was Justine Madison and for anyone who’d asked, she’d invented a family in California. The past twelve years had turned her into a city girl. She didn’t belong in Gold Peak now.

Then again, maybe there had been another reason she didn’t want to go back. A compelling reason in the shape of a six-foot-one, dark-haired cowboy by the name of Cully Black.

The moment his name popped into her mind she saw him, as clear as the day she’d told him she was leaving town for good. She’d searched his face that day, hoping in vain to see some kind of regret in his eyes. The color of charcoal, they’d stared back at her, cool and indifferent, killing all hopes she’d ever raised.

He’d seemed so distant, so unapproachable, it was hard to believe they’d ever slept in each other’s arms after a reckless night of lovemaking—a night of crazy passion she’d never known before or since. No, the last person in the world she wanted to see again was Cully.

Even so, she was worried about her former foster parents. For some reason, the urge to see them, talk to them, was overwhelming. Maybe she could talk them into flying to Philadelphia. She could show them the city, take them to see Independence Hall, the Liberty Bell, The Franklin Institute. Buy them a cheese-steak. Jim would love that. And Mabel would adore Liberty Place, with its myriad shops and ethnic food outlets.

Excited at the prospect, she glanced at the pendulum clock on her mantelpiece. It was two-thirty in the morning in Oregon. She would have to call when she got home from work. Her invitation would just have to wait.

CULLY HAD WAITED all day for the coroner’s report. It came just as he’d locked the door of his office behind him and was halfway down the steps to the street.

He was looking forward to getting home. Nothing eased the stress of a hard day faster than the snuffling sounds of welcome his horses gave him when he walked into his stables. Their earthy smell, their rough hair beneath his fingers, the nudge of a cold nose against his cheek, all of it was his reward for having made it through another day.

Soon after he’d been elected sheriff, he’d bought the modest horse ranch in the hopes of escaping some of the pressure and the pain that haunted him. Having practically grown up in the small town buried at the foot of Oregon’s Eastern mountains, he’d been around horses most of his life.

Next to his dedication to upholding the law, horses were his greatest passion. There were times when dealing with the tragic side of life weighed heavily on his mind. Particularly the last two days. His horses helped lighten the load. Considerably. Mabel had been right when she’d told him he’d always be a cowboy at heart.

When his cell phone jingled he reached for it, hoping it wasn’t another call that would take him away from his supper. Lyla Whittaker, his housekeeper, usually stayed long enough to serve him up a hot meal, unless he was late getting home. Those nights he had to make do with warming something up in the microwave. He wasn’t in the mood for the microwave tonight.

He answered the phone with a curt, “Sheriff Black.”

It was the coroner and he listened intently as the mild voice told him what he’d suspected all along. “Looks like they’d been dead about an hour or so before the crash. Guess you got a crime on your hands, Cully.”

“Sure looks that way.” Cully briefly closed his eyes. Who in hell would want to hurt two of the most generous, neighborly people he’d ever known? It had to be a robbery. Not that the Corbetts had much to steal. They’d always lived a frugal life, not being ones to buy fancy cars or boats and the like. He couldn’t even remember them ever taking a vacation away from home. They’d given their lives to their foster kids, until they’d gotten too old to keep up with the work.

He thanked the coroner and shoved his phone back in his pocket. First thing in the morning he’d apply for a warrant to go over the house. Take a look around. It was as good a place as any to start.

In a hurry to get home now, he swung himself into his Jeep and started the engine. As far as he knew, the Corbetts had no family. No kids, no relatives to notify. Unless he found something in his search of their home that told him different. Maybe he’d find something that would tell him where Ginny had disappeared to. She needed to know what had happened. Too bad she’d miss the funeral in the morning. She would have wanted to be there.

He tried to ignore the faint twinge of anticipation. It wouldn’t do to go getting any ideas about her. She was married now. He didn’t even know her married name, so it wasn’t likely he’d be able to track her down. In any case, she’d let him know long ago how she felt about him. Even if he found her, he sure as hell wasn’t giving her the chance to tell him all over again.

THE FOLLOWING EVENING Ginny stood in the quiet luxury of her living room, the phone pressed anxiously against her ear. She’d promised herself that if she got no answer this time, she’d call the police and have them check out the Corbetts’ home. She would have done it last night, except that in Gold Peak the police meant the county sheriff and that meant Cully Black.

Outside her window, the sultry Philadelphia heat shimmered on the cars parked in the parking lot. Kids ran barefoot in and out of the vehicles, their shouts muffled by the thick glass. Everything seemed so normal, yet her heart pounded unevenly as she waited, praying to hear Jim’s gruff voice on the other end of the line.

Unbelievably, the line clicked open. Her gasp of relief echoed in her ears as she said breathlessly, “Jim? Where have you been? I’ve been so worried, I—”

Shock slammed into her as the deep voice answered her. A voice quite different from Jim’s harsh tones. A voice that she recognized, even after all these years. “Ma’am? This is Sheriff Cully Black. I’m afraid Jim’s not here.”

For what seemed like an eternity she struggled to get her breath. She needed to steady her voice, not to let him know he could still affect her. She waited so long he spoke again.

“Ma’am?” Then his voice changed, dropping even lower. “Ginny? Is that you?”

It had been so long since anyone had called her by that name. For just a second or two, she felt a tug of sweet nostalgia, until she remembered the last day she’d seen him. The day he’d shattered her dreams.

Instinct urged her to hang up but then Mabel’s sweet face swam into her mind and she swallowed.

Her fingers gripped the phone so hard she felt them cramp. The three thousand miles between them melted away and she felt as if he were right there in the room with her. She loosened her grip and struggled to keep her voice as casual as possible. “What are you doing there, Cully? Where’s Jim?” A rush of alarm tightened her nerves. “There’s nothing wrong with him, is there? Is Mabel there?”

“Ginny…”

She heard something else in his voice then and the chill spread rapidly throughout her body. For some idiotic reason she didn’t want to hear what he had to say and went on talking as if he hadn’t said her name in that awful tone that smacked of sympathy and sorrow. “Their answering machine doesn’t seem to be working and I was worried…”

“Ginny, listen to me.”

She pressed a hand over her mouth as she heard him say the unbelievable words. Mabel and Jim died in a car wreck on the mountain, both dead, funeral was yesterday.

“No-o-o-o-o!” The hollow cry echoed around her living room, bounced off the colorless walls and beat mercilessly back into her ears. Vaguely she heard Cully’s voice repeating her name over and over but nothing made sense. Nothing. They couldn’t be dead. It had to be a mistake.

“Ginny, please, don’t hang up.”

Cully’s urgent voice finally penetrated the loud humming in her head. Holding back a sob, she whispered, “How did it happen?”

“We don’t know.” He sounded ragged, weary, as if he hadn’t slept in days. He’d always had a huskiness in his voice—a sexy rawness that had once thrilled her to the core. But it was more pronounced now, as if every word he spoke were painful. “It was late at night. You know how that road winds down the mountain. It was dark, not much moonlight…”

She couldn’t take any more. “I have to go. I can’t…”

“Ginny, don’t hang up! Don’t!”

The urgency in his words frightened her. “I’m sorry.” She gulped, afraid she was going to bawl right there into the phone. “I know it must be hard for you, too. But right now I don’t feel much like talking.”

“Wait, I’ve been trying to find you.”

His pause seemed fraught with tension. She gripped the phone, prepared to stand her ground if he asked her to come home. There was no point now.

“Ginny, the will is being read in two days. You need to be there.”

She shook her head at him, even though he couldn’t see her. “No, I don’t see why. I’m not a relative.”

“Paul Bellman, he’s the Corbetts’ lawyer now. He needs you there.”

She swallowed. “Did he say why?”

“No, he didn’t.”

Her mind raced with questions. She couldn’t be a beneficiary. The Corbetts had been her foster parents, as they had to dozens of kids in their lifetime. As far as she knew they had nothing to leave, anyway.

“Ginny? Come home. You should be here. At least give me a number where I can reach you.”

Her instincts, honed by months of hiding in the shadows, bunched into a solid wall. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

She felt sick, still unable to believe that the only real parents she had known were gone. Yet somewhere in there, she felt guilt, as well. She had never had the chance to say goodbye. The least she could do was visit their graves and say her goodbyes there. It would give her closure, if nothing else.

Before she could change her mind again, she said sharply, “Never mind. I’ll come home. I’ll be there tomorrow.” She hung up then and gave herself up to the awful, tearing sobs of grief.

THREE THOUSAND miles away, Cully let the receiver fall gently onto its rest. He should have told her all of it. He just hadn’t been able to bring himself to hurt her even more than she was already.

This way he could give her a little time to get over the shock, before she found out that the Corbetts hadn’t died in an accident after all. Before he had to tell her that the couple she had loved as parents had been brutally murdered.

Chapter Two

It was late afternoon, the following day, when Ginny drove the white Taurus she’d rented into Gold Peak. There was only one motel in that whole miserable town and it was the last place on earth she wanted to stay. The motel had been built before she was born and the ancient, decaying building she remembered had not improved with time.

She’d thought about staying in Rapid City, which at least boasted a halfway decent hotel but that meant driving the extra forty miles back to town and she was already exhausted. A sleepless night and the scramble to get on a plane early that morning had taken its toll.

All the rooms had outside doors that faced onto the parking lot and the only way to reach the upper floor was by a weather-beaten flight of stairs. Rather than walk up those creaking steps, she asked for a room on the ground floor.

The room, as it turned out, wasn’t quite as bad as she’d feared. The bedding, though shabby, looked reasonably clean and the plumbing at least seemed to be working. The seascape hanging above the headboard looked out of place—a poor attempt to make the room less forbidding. It failed miserably.

Reminding herself that it was only for one night, she took a quick, refreshing shower and changed into shorts and a T-shirt.

Seated on the edge of the bed, she studied the phone for a long time before finally reaching for it. After stabbing out Cully’s number, she waited, heart thumping unevenly, for him to answer.

His voice sounded wary when he answered, as if he’d known it would be her calling.

She spoke quickly, afraid her raw emotion would be misinterpreted. “Cully? This is Ginny. I’m at the Sagebrush Motel. I just got into town. I need to talk to you. Is now a good time?”

A slight pause, then his voice, deeper now, drawled in her ear again. “It’s almost suppertime. How about I meet you at the Red Steer in a half hour? We can get a bite to eat and talk there.”

She’d deliberately held the memories at bay as she’d driven into town. There were things she didn’t want to remember about her life in Gold Peak. But at the mention of the Red Steer tavern, the past surged back into her mind just as sharp and as painful as if it were just a few days ago.

It was there at the Red Steer when she’d first stepped into Cully’s arms. He’d asked her to dance and, egged on by Sally Irwin, her best friend, she’d accepted the challenge in Cully’s dark eyes. The moment his arms had closed around her, she’d known that nothing would ever be the same again.

“Ginny?”

She jumped and answered quickly. “I don’t want to take up too much of your time. I just have a couple of questions, that’s all. I plan on visiting the graves, then getting to bed early. I have to drive back to the airport tomorrow.”

“You gotta eat, don’t you?”

“Well, yes, but I thought a pizza in my room…”

“The steak’s still real good at the Red Steer. You always enjoyed a good steak. Besides, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Can’t you tell me on the phone?”

“I think it’s better if we discuss it in person. Over that steak and a cold beer.”

She struggled with indecision, torn between the tantalizing prospect of a wonderful steak dinner and her deep reluctance to face Cully again. She hadn’t planned on meeting him in person. If it hadn’t been for something that had occurred to her late last night and had been bothering her all day, she wouldn’t even have called him.

Then again, she was hungry. The airline food had been skimpy and unpalatable. And maybe what she needed to ask him was better done in person after all. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

She replaced the receiver, instantly regretting the impulse. Her mind in a whirl, she rummaged in her bag for the jeans she’d planned to wear on the plane the next day. After a lengthy debate with herself, she decided not to change the T-shirt. A dash of lipstick, a flick of the comb and she was ready. As ready as she was ever going to be, she thought ruefully.

A few minutes later she drove out of the motel parking lot, followed by a grimy minivan. Its dark tinted windows made it difficult to see who drove it. She slowed to let it pass but it kept pace behind her, following her for the three miles to the tavern. Not surprising really, since there was only one road into town.

Even so, the long months she’d spent hiding in the shadows had kept her constantly on guard, to the point where the most mundane thing could seem threatening.

Driving down Main Street, she credited her shivery uneasiness to the memories that jarred her mind. The first time she’d stood, drained of emotion, in the huge living room of Mabel and Jim Corbett’s old house. The confusion of sharing her life with a dozen or so kids, all hurting inside like her, all afraid to trust.

Cully had been one of those kids. Older than her by ten years, he’d left by the time she was nine. But if it hadn’t been for Cully, she never would have survived that first year in the foster home. She blinked hard, determined not to give in to the past. She’d left it all behind a long time ago. Too long ago.

She parked in a familiar spot outside the Red Steer, noting with an absurd sense of relief that the minivan had passed on by. No matter how often she reminded herself that she no longer had anything to fear, it was tough to let go of the constant apprehension, the mistrust of anything unfamiliar.

Her heart skipped when she saw the red Jeep Cherokee parked close to the entrance. It had to belong to Cully. He’d always been partial to red. She’d hoped to get there ahead of him—give herself time to reacquaint herself with the place before she had to deal with him.

Every muscle in her body felt tight as she pushed through the swing doors that led into the dining room. The orange lamps, fastened to the walls in their wrought iron cages, were turned down low. The huge brick fireplace still dominated the room and in spite of the warmth outside, a crackling log fire spit flames up the massive chimney.

She saw him at once. He was seated with his back to a window, facing the door as if he’d been watching for her. She pulled in a deep breath and walked unsteadily across the room, wishing like hell she’d listened to her instincts and ordered that pizza.

Cully rose to his feet as she approached, his expression unreadable. He looked older, she noticed, and remembered with a shock that he was now forty-one years old. Deep creases etched the corners of his eyes. His hair, still springy and dark, showed no sign of gray, except for just above his ears at the temples.

He’d filled out from the tall, lanky cowboy she remembered. His denim shirt stretched across a broad chest and beneath the rolled-up sleeves his upper arms were solid muscle. He wore the hard, tough look of a man who spent most of his days weathering the harsh environment of the mountains. It looked good on him. Too good.

She reached the table and hesitated, wondering if she should shake hands or just sit down in the chair he’d pulled out. “It’s good to see you, Cully.” Even to her ears, her voice sounded stilted, almost hostile.

Something flickered in his eyes, then he held out his hand. “You, too.”

She watched her fingers briefly disappear in his warm, sunburned grip, then he let her go. His hand had felt strong, secure. It had been a mistake to come. She sat down, trying to figure out a way to get out of this gracefully.

“I’ve ordered the steaks,” Cully said, taking away her options. “I hope you still like ’em medium rare.”

She nodded and slid her gaze away from the appraisal in his eyes. She must look older, too. God knows she felt every one of her thirty-one years.

“You look real good, Ginny.”

She started, remembering his uncanny ability to read her mind. From the first moment he’d set eyes on her, he seemed to know what she was thinking, even before she did.

“I’m not Ginny anymore,” she said quietly. “My name is Justine now.”

His answer unsettled her even more. “It makes no difference what fancy name you’ve given yourself. You’ll always be Ginny to me.”

He’d teased her that first day, telling her it would be her job to milk the cows at the crack of dawn every morning. Then he’d patted her shoulder and promised he’d watch out for her. You don’t have to be afraid of nothing as long as I’m around, he’d said. Them cows are more afraid of you than you are of them. You just holler at ’em and watch ’em run.

Grateful for his understanding, for the first time since arriving at that rambling old farmhouse, she’d smiled. He’d seemed so tall, so powerful. She remembered looking way up into his dark gray eyes and knowing somehow that here was someone she could trust.

From then on she’d followed him around like Mary’s little lamb, until a short year later when he’d gone to help out on the Double K Ranch. The home she’d come to love had seemed empty after he’d gone.

She made herself push the memories away.

He sat twisting the mug of beer in front of him between his strong fingers, not looking at her. “I’m real sorry you had to come back to this. I know how you felt about Mabel and Jim. It must have hurt bad to hear what happened.”

She made an effort to control the wobble in her voice. “I still can’t believe it happened. Jim was such a careful driver.”

Something in his face changed and he glanced over at the bar. “Get you a beer?”

“I don’t drink beer anymore. A glass of white wine would be good, though.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a cynical smile. “Oh, right. I forgot. City gals don’t drink beer.”

It shouldn’t have hurt. She wasn’t sure why it did. On the defensive, she said crisply, “We city folk tend to be civilized.”

“Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?” He shoved his chair back, scraping the feet on the hardwood floor. “I’ll be right back.”

She watched him get up and head for the bar. She wasn’t surprised to hear he’d gone into law enforcement. He’d once told her that he’d run away from home when he was a kid and a friendly cop had found him a place in the Corbett household. He’d talked a lot about being a cop.

Mabel had told her that he’d left the ranch and gone to Rapid City for training. That was right after she’d turned her back on the town for good. It hadn’t taken him long to be assigned as deputy in McKewen County and eventually located in Gold Peak. She might have known he’d end up back here.

He came back with her wine and set it in front of her. She murmured her thanks and waited for him to sit down.

Before she could ask what she wanted to know, he said casually, “Paul’s reading the will at ten o’clock tomorrow morning at his office. I’ll pick you up at the motel and run you over there.”

She gave a decisive shake of her head. “Sorry, I’m booked to fly back on the midday flight. I have to be back at work the next day.”

He drained the last of his beer. “They can’t do without you for a couple of days?”

She almost smiled. “No, they can’t.”

“Must be a tough job if you’re so indispensable.”

“It’s a responsible one. I’m head fashion buyer for a well-known department store. I’m supposed to be ordering for the spring line and the samples will be coming in any day now.” She sent him a cynical look from under her lashes. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

If he was stung by the remark, he showed no sign of it. “Paul was pretty insistent you be there. He’s been trying to get ahold of you. No one knew where you were. Not even Mabel or Jim. I didn’t even know you were in touch with them until you called yesterday.”

She dropped her gaze and fiddled with the stem of her wineglass. “I can’t imagine why their lawyer would need me there.”

Cully shrugged. “Maybe he wants you to take care of their personal effects. What with Jim or Mabel not having any family and all, someone needs to clear out the house before it’s sold. Though I think Paul has a list of things they wanted to leave to some of the kids.”

For a long time she stared at her glass, struggling with indecision. Then she said wearily, “I suppose I could talk to him. I really hadn’t planned on staying that long.”

“So you said.”

Ignoring the irony in his voice she said sharply, “There’s something I don’t understand about the accident. You said it happened late at night?”

“Yep.” He reached for his second beer and she had the feeling he was deliberately avoiding her gaze.

“How late?”

He shrugged and answered reluctantly, “Around two in the morning.”

“And Jim was driving?”

He swallowed several mouthfuls of the golden liquid then slowly set the glass mug down in front of him. “He was behind the wheel when the truck crashed.”

She knew him well enough to know when he was keeping something from her. Her hand trembled as she lifted her glass. She let the mellow wine slide down her throat, then said carefully, “Cully, you know as well as I do that Jim never drove at night. He had night blindness. They rarely went out at night, certainly never that late and if they did, Mabel always drove.”

The silence between them stretched into minutes, while a nasal voice from the speakers, accompanied by guitars, sang about a mangled heart.

Finally Cully sighed. “I know. I had the same thought. Which is why I had the wreck investigated. I guess this is as good a time as any to tell you. I figured you wouldn’t want to be alone when you heard. It wasn’t an accident, Ginny. Jim and Mabel were already dead when the truck went off the road. I’m real sorry.”

Her breath seemed to be caught somewhere in her throat. This was worse than anything she could have imagined. For some silly reason, it was on the tip of her tongue to remind him her name wasn’t Ginny anymore. Except it didn’t seem to matter now. She’d always been Ginny in her heart, no matter how hard she’d tried to escape the past.

She made her lips move. “What happened?”

“They’d both been shot at close range. We think by Jim’s shotgun, which is missing. Could have been a burglary that went bad, though there was no sign of a break-in. Then again, it could have been a drifter looking for a handout. Knowing Jim and Mabel, they might have invited him in for a meal and things got ugly. The house looked like a tornado had gone through it. Lamps smashed, chairs overturned, drawers pulled out of dressers…a real mess.”

She shuddered. “And you have no idea who it was?”

“Not yet.” His mouth tightened in a grim line. “But I will.” For a long moment he kept his gaze on his hands then slowly, he raised his chin.

Her twinge of awareness took her by surprise. She felt as she had that first time, the little kid in awe of the big, bold cowboy. She hadn’t expected to be still affected by him like this. If she had, she would have refused his invitation. She made herself look into his eyes and saw nothing there but concern.

“Look,” he said softly, “I know all this is a shock to you and that you’ll need some time to deal with it. But I could use your help. You probably remember better than I do what the Corbetts had in their home. I need you to take a look and see if you can figure out if there’s anything missing. It might help catch the bastard who did this.”

Still dazed, she muttered, “I don’t understand how anyone could hurt Mabel and Jim.”

“I know,” Cully said grimly. “I have a bad feeling about this. A feeling somehow that this isn’t the end of it.”

His words made the back of her neck prickle. At that precise moment, a shadow appeared at the window behind him. She hadn’t been directly looking in that direction and by the time she did, whoever it was had disappeared. It was more an impression than anything but something about that fleeting silhouette disturbed her.

She shook her head, impatient with her erratic mind. Cully’s words had put her on edge, making her imagine things that weren’t there. The very idea of someone killing Jim and Mabel shocked and sickened her. No wonder she was feeling jittery. She couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to harm such generous, giving people as the Corbetts, people who just about everyone in Gold Peak had known and loved.

The steaks arrived, brought to the table by a young man with a scruffy stubble darkening his jaw and a plaited gold ring in his right ear. He stared hard at Ginny as he set down the plates.

“This is Luke Sorensen.” Cully waved his hand at the frankly curious man. “He helps out on Sally’s night off. He lived with the Corbetts for a while, right Luke? Meet another one of the Corbetts’ foster kids. Ginny Matthews.”

“My name’s not…” she began, then shrugged her tired shoulders. It didn’t matter anymore. Brandon was dead. It didn’t matter what people called her now.

She shook the reluctant hand Luke held out. “I was so sad to hear about the Corbetts’ deaths. I wish I could have been at the funeral.”

“Yeah, it was bad news,” Luke muttered. He dropped his hand and slunk back to the bar.

Ginny frowned at Cully. “You said something about Sally. You don’t mean Sally Irwin, do you?”

Cully picked up his steak knife. “Yeah, that’s our Sally. Oh, right, I forgot. You two used to be pretty good buddies.”

“Best friends.” She stared at the thick steak on her plate, wondering how on earth she was going to eat anything at all. “We lost touch over the years.”

“Yeah, city life will do that to you.”

Deciding to ignore the sarcasm in his voice, she tackled the steak, realizing all of a sudden that she was starving.

Across the table, Cully watched her out of the corner of his eye. She’d changed. It shocked him how much she’d changed. It wasn’t so much the hair, cut short and lighter than he remembered. It wasn’t even that she was older. She didn’t look that much older than the day she’d left town to move to Phoenix. The Arizona sun had given her a few faint lines here and there but she still had that fresh, clear skin. In the tight jeans and T-shirt she wore her body looked just as firm and as slender as the night he’d covered her with his naked body and taken them both to another world.

Angry about his obsession with the past, he concentrated on the present. She’d become citified. Even the jeans couldn’t hide that air of sophistication that set them worlds apart. She looked out of place, like a tourist trying to blend in somewhere she didn’t belong.

It was more than that, though. There was something else. It was in her eyes. That unforgettable blend of green and gold still reminded him of cool forests and sunlit waterfalls but there was a look in them that worried him.

He’d seen that look before, in the eyes of a bruised and battered woman he’d pulled out of busted-up trailer after arresting her raging, drunken husband. The look of the hunted. The terrified. The victim.

He swallowed a bite of steak then asked abruptly, “How come your husband didn’t come with you?”

He saw the expression he dreaded in her face—the flicker of fear, the tightening of her jaw. Then she said something he hadn’t expected.

Her words were flat, as if she were making a conscious effort to erase all emotion from her voice. “My husband’s dead. He was killed in a plane crash three months ago.”

He choked, grabbed his beer and took a huge gulp. “I’m sorry. Thank God you weren’t with him.”

She sawed at her steak, her face a cold, hard mask. “Yes,” she said deliberately. “Thank God.”

Something about the way she said it put a chill right through his bones. “That must have been real tough,” he said awkwardly.

Carefully, she lifted a small, neat square of meat to her mouth, chewed it and swallowed. “I’m sorry I missed Sally. I would have enjoyed talking to her.”

His mouth twisted. So she didn’t want to talk about it. Well, okay. It was none of his business anyway.

He shouldn’t feel so damn pleased about it. It wasn’t right to feel glad a man had died. Maybe he wouldn’t if he didn’t have a gut feeling that her marriage hadn’t exactly been made in paradise. Then again, if he were really honest with himself, the news that she was no longer married wasn’t going to upset him too much, no matter how happy or miserable she’d been.

Still feeling guilty about his lack of sympathy for the dead man, he accepted her switch in the conversation. For the next half hour or so he caught her up to date on various people she’d known when she’d lived in Gold Peak.

She was sipping at a steaming cup of coffee when she brought up the subject of the Corbetts’ deaths again. “I assume you’ve searched the house,” she said, placing her mug carefully on the table.

“Yep. Judging by the way the place was messed up, Jim put up a pretty good fight. He didn’t go down easy.” He swallowed hard. “We think Mabel was killed in the hallway. Looks like she was trying to make a run for it when he caught up with her.”

She shuddered, her face pale. “Didn’t you find anything that might help find out who killed them?”

“So far we’ve got nothing to go on. Without a motive it’s hard to know where to start.” He thought about getting another beer, then decided against it. “The worst part is knowing that maniac is still running around out there. I need to stop him before he gets his hands bloody again.”

She seemed to think about it for a long moment or two, then said quietly, “You’re right. He has to pay for what he did. I’m not sure how much help I can be but I’ll take a look at the house if you think it will help.”

It wasn’t until he relaxed his muscles that he realized just how tense he’d been. “Thanks, Ginny. I sure appreciate your cooperation.”

Her face was bleak when she nodded. “I guess I can stop by to see the Corbetts’ lawyer, then I’ll go with you to the house.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at eight-forty-five.”

“I have a car. I’ll find it.”

“I have to be there, too. I might as well pick you up.”

Her indifferent shrug stung his pride. “If you like.”

She reached for her purse and he said quickly, “I’ll take care of it.”

She gave him a tight smile. “Thanks. You were right. The steaks are still good here.”

“My pleasure, ma’am.” He pushed his chair back. “Can I give you a ride back to the Sagebrush?”

She stood with him, avoiding his gaze. “Thanks, but I have my car. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He watched her leave, cursing the ache under his ribs. He knew better than to let his emotions get the better of him. She was even more out of his reach now than she’d been twelve years ago, when he’d watched her march away from him and out of his life.

She’d taken his heart with her that day and she’d cared so little about him it had taken her exactly ten months to forget him and find someone else to fall in love with. Ten months, while he’d waited and hoped. What a damn fool he’d been.

He picked up his hat and jammed it on his head. Well, there would be polar bears roaming the desert before he let anyone make an ass out of him again. He turned his back on the table and headed for the door.

GINNY CLIMBED into her car and gunned the engine. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go back to the motel and fall into bed. She couldn’t do that just yet. She couldn’t go to sleep in this town without having visited the graves of the people who meant the world to her. She couldn’t rest easy until she’d said her goodbyes. She deeply regretted having missed the funeral. This was all she had left. This last final farewell over their graves.

Cully had told her the Corbetts were buried in the cemetery on the hill. It was a beautiful spot, shaded by cottonwood trees, with a clear view of the mountain range in the west, where the sun had already dipped below the peaks.

In the shaded light of dusk the haphazard rows of gravestones rose and fell like undulating waves of a silent ocean. Her sneakers made hardly a sound on the pathway as she hurried past bouquets of roses and lilies of the valley, their sweet fragrance blending with the pungent smell of the pines.

She found the graves, freshly dug and with a gleaming white headstone with both their names carved on it. The coarse grass felt prickly beneath her knees but she knelt for a long time, allowing the bittersweet memories to take her back to a happier, carefree time, when she was loved and protected and safe from the world.

The darkness settled around her and the rustling of night creatures whispered among the trees, disturbing her thoughts. A cool breeze wafted a lock of her hair across her forehead and sighing, she climbed wearily to her feet. “Goodbye, Jim,” she whispered. “Goodbye, Mabel. Thank you for the love you gave me and for the ten years of happiness I’ll never forget.” A sob choked her words and she struggled for a moment, striving to control her grief.

In the silence she thought she heard Jim’s voice, whispering urgently in her ear. The words weren’t clear to her but the message was.

“Cully will find out who did this to you,” she said, her voice loud in the darkness. “I promise you both that Cully will hunt him down and see that he pays. No matter what it takes. Then you’ll both be able to rest in peace.”

The whispering stopped, bringing her the first small measure of peace she’d felt since hearing Cully’s voice utter the inconceivable. With an ache in her heart she headed back to where she’d left the car.

The night had drawn in now, with only a tiny sliver of moon in the starlit sky to light the way. Below her she could see the lights of the little town, glowing like the embers of a dying fire. She shivered in the desert breeze that had suddenly grown cool.

She had neared the end of the path when without warning the shadow of a man crossed in front of her. For a startling second he was illuminated between her and the flickering lights below. Then, almost at once, he vanished.

Feeling cold and shaken, she assured herself her eyes were playing tricks with her. A deserted graveyard at night was no place to hang around on her own. No wonder she was seeing things.

She started walking…faster…and then she heard them. Distinct footsteps, echoing from behind her, keeping in time with her own.

Heart pounding in her throat she spun around, her gaze probing the shadows for a sign of movement. The footsteps had stopped, too. All she could see were the branches of the cottonwoods swaying gently in the night wind.

She started off again, running now. There they were again…the footsteps…running with her, closer than before. A man’s voice, low and guttural, laughing softly, the sound barely audible above the pounding of feet.

The terror gripped her like hands of steel, closing around her lungs, making it hard to breathe. Only a few more yards to go. Could she make it? Her legs were already trembling and weak. She had to make it, for she knew as sure as she knew her own name, that if those footsteps caught up with her, she’d end up just like Mabel and Jim, buried deep in the dark, cold ground.

Chapter Three

Reaching the car, Ginny fumbled in her purse for her keys. Her hand shook so badly she couldn’t fit the key into the lock. He had to be right behind her. He had to be….

With a sob of relief she got the door open and slid inside. It was then that she realized the footsteps were no longer echoing out of the darkness. She slammed the door and locked it, then struggled to fit the key into the ignition. The engine fired and the beams from her headlights poured a wide swath of yellow light across the road ahead of her.

As she pulled out onto the road, she glanced into the rearview mirror, fully expecting to see her pursuer standing there, watching her leave.

There was no one there. No man, no other car, no lights, no movement, nothing. Had she imagined it? But she’d heard the footsteps, the ugly, taunting laugh…hadn’t she?

The thought that the whole thing could have been nothing more than a wild flight of fancy terrified her almost as much as the reality of a stalker. For weeks now she’d been afraid that the long months of hiding had taken their toll and that she was losing her mind. It was getting to the point where she couldn’t be sure anymore what was real and what was in her imagination.

Thoroughly shaken, she drove too fast, taking the curves down the hill at a speed that rocked the car from side to side. She couldn’t outrun the cold feeling of dread that gripped her. Taking a long, deep breath, she made herself slow down. She wouldn’t be much help to Cully if she landed in hospital.

Cully. Her mouth curved in a wry smile. What would he think of her if he knew the turmoil going on inside her? If he saw her fleeing from a monster that existed only in her troubled mind?

She’d always been so strong, so sure of who she was and what she wanted. The night she told him she had to get out of Gold Peak or she’d suffocate, he hadn’t even tried to change her mind. He’d known it was useless. Once Ginny Matthews had her sights set on something, she didn’t let go.

The trouble was, she didn’t want to let go of him, either. She’d asked him to go with her. He’d told her in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t city folk.

She could still hear his voice, harsh with bitterness, as he’d paced back and forth across the dingy living room of the apartment he’d rented above Bailey’s Garage. “I lived in a city once. I know what it’s like. People don’t care a damn about each other. They’d watch their neighbor die on the street without lifting a finger to help.”

“They can’t all be like that.”

“Well, they are. Take my word for it. It’s a whole different world out there. There’s a thief hanging around every dark corner and con artists just waiting to clean you out of your life savings. Folks trample all over each other to get their hands on stuff they don’t need or want and all they care about is making more and more money. If that’s what you want to be like, well you’re welcome to it.”

“I don’t have to be like them. I’m who I am. No one’s going to change me.”

“Believe me. The city changes everybody.”

She’d been close to tears, angry at him for bursting her rosy bubble. “You’ll never understand. I need to make something of my life. I don’t want see it waste away in this boring little backwoods town.”

“This boring little backwoods town was good enough for you when you were a kid looking for a home.”

“Well, I’m not a kid anymore. I’ve grown up. And you’re jealous because you don’t have the guts to leave town. I’ll be in Phoenix, making a new life for myself, while you’re stuck here day after day mucking out Judd Taylor’s stables. And you know what, Cully Black? It’s no more than you deserve.”

Maybe, if he’d begged her to stay, convinced her that he loved her as passionately as she loved him, she might have stayed in Gold Peak. She might have borne his babies and been content to make a home for them all.

But he hadn’t said a word about love. He’d stood looking out through the dust-grimed window, his back as stiff and straight as a flagpole and his thumbs jammed into the pockets of his jeans.

She’d seen him only once more after that night. He’d stopped by the Corbetts’ house, a couple of days before she planned to catch the bus out of town. At first, dizzy with hope, she’d thought he’d come to tell her he loved her and wanted her to stay. When she found out he’d stopped by to return a couple of books he’d borrowed from Jim, she’d finally faced the truth. She was good enough to lie in his bed but she wasn’t good enough to share his life. Same old story.

She’d caught up with him as he was leaving and told him goodbye. Keeping the fence between them, she’d let all her pain out in a stream of accusations and criticism. He hadn’t even flinched. That was how little he’d cared.

The blaze of lights from an oncoming car lit up her windshield, dazzling her. Realizing that her eyes were filled with tears, she dashed them away with the back of her hand. She’d done crying over Cully Black a long time ago. If she had any sense at all, she’d get right back on that plane tomorrow at noon and turn her back on Gold Peak forever.

She pulled into the parking lot of the Sagebrush Motel and cut the engine. Trouble was, she never did have any sense where Cully was concerned. It wasn’t until she married Brandon that she realized what she’d truly lost.

Wearily she climbed out of the car and slammed the door. To hell with Cully Black. She’d talk to the lawyer in the morning and then go straight back to the airport. It had been too many years since she was in the Corbetts’ house. How was she going to remember what they had enough to know it was missing?

Her sneakers made only a slight scuffling sound on the hard ground and she caught herself listening for the sound of echoing footsteps. Angry with herself, she closed the door of her room hard behind her. This is what Brandon had done to her. Turned her into a quivering mass of nerves.

If she didn’t get it together, she’d start messing up at work and that could spell disaster. The board members of Whitman’s Department Store had no patience with incompetent personnel.

She had her hand on the bathroom door when the harsh jangle of the phone made her jump. Frowning, she moved to answer it. She hadn’t told anyone where she was staying, since she’d be there just for one night. The only person who knew she was there was Cully.

Her hand trembled as she lifted the receiver and muttered a cautious, “Hello?”

She waited for an answer that never came. The silence on the end of the line unnerved her and she repeated, louder this time, “Hello? Cully, is that you? Who is this?”

The room seemed to be closing in around her. Hastily she dropped the receiver onto its stand. It must have been a wrong number. Or one of those automatic sales calls that didn’t go through. Anything. After all, she didn’t hear any heavy breathing. It was nothing.

Even so, she found it hard to fall asleep. She kept hearing unfamiliar noises and her body tensed with every sound. After watching a meaningless movie on TV, she turned on the radio, buried her face beneath the sheet and concentrated on visions of quiet lakes and soothing waves breaking on a sandy shore.

She awoke in the middle of the night, heart thumping, a sheen of sweat prickling on her forehead. Unsure of what had disturbed her sleep, she lay awake for an hour or more, before falling once more into a fitful sleep. When she woke up again, sunlight filtered through the gap where the cheap curtains didn’t quite meet.

A quick glance at the clock radio told her she’d slept later than she’d planned. Thankful that the nightmare had stayed away, she showered and pulled on the jeans she’d worn the night before. Her sleeveless blue shirt was the last clean item she had left. She packed the rest in a plastic laundry bag and stuffed it into her garment bag, then gathered up her stuff from the bathroom.

She had just finished checking out when Cully’s Jeep pulled into the parking lot a little later. She watched through the window as he climbed out and headed for the door, his hat pulled down low to shade his eyes. She’d forgotten how good he looked in a cowboy hat.

Hastily, she pulled her gaze away from him and pretended to be studying a faded map on the wall when she heard him come through the door.

Her skin tingled as he came up behind her, his deep voice penetrating every nerve in her body. “Morning! Hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”

She plastered a smile on her face before turning to greet him. “Not at all. I’ve just checked out.”

She thought she saw a shadow cross his face. His mouth tightened just a fraction. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“Coffee and a bagel. In the coffee shop next door.”

He gave her a brief nod. “Then I guess we’re ready to go.”

She squared her shoulders. “I’ll follow you in my car. Then I can go straight to the airport after I leave the lawyer’s office.”

There was no mistaking the disapproval in his dark eyes now.

“I thought you were going to take a look at the house with me.”

She lifted her wrist and concentrated on her watch. “I changed my mind. After thinking about it, I really can’t see that I’d be much help. After all, I’m sure the Corbetts must have bought many things since I left, I wouldn’t know what was missing. In any case, I’m needed back in Philadelphia.”

She looked up in time to see his eyebrows rise. “Philadelphia? I thought you were in Phoenix.”

“I was.” She started toward the door, putting an end to the conversation. This wasn’t the time for explanations. It was doubtful there would ever be a time when she could tell him the truth about Brandon.

Outside in the parking lot the sun warmed her shoulders as she made her way to her car. Even so, she detected a faint chill in the wind blowing in from the mountains. Before long the fall would bring the winter rains and then the snow. How could she have forgotten the clean, fresh smell of the open land and the feeling of losing oneself in the wide expanse of blue sky? It was such a far cry from the burning Philadelphia sidewalks and suffocating buildings that shut out the sunshine.

As she climbed into her car she noticed the dark gray minivan that had followed her out the night before, sitting just a few spaces away. She stared hard at it, wondering what it was about it that had unnerved her the night before.

The Nevada license plate was faded and dented and there were gouges on the door on the passenger’s side. Apparently the owner was a lousy driver.

Looking at the van in daylight, however, her fears of last night seemed ludicrous. She had to get control of her nerves, before she did something really stupid.

The roar of Cully’s engine made her jump and she started her car. He was already out on the road, heading toward town before she had backed up enough to swing the car out of its space. For a moment she thought he wasn’t going to wait for her but he slowed enough for her to catch up before he turned the first corner.

Somehow she got the idea he was mad about something. Well, let him be. She hadn’t made any promises. For two cents she’d turn around and head for the airport. After all, there was no law that said she had to go to the reading of the will.

Even as the thought occurred to her she glanced in her rearview mirror, tempted to slam on the brakes and turn around. Her hands froze on the wheel. The minivan was right behind her.

It seemed as if all her breath had suddenly deserted her body. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead and the feeling of suffocation was almost unbearable. She clawed for the air conditioner and turned on the fans full blast.

Whoever was driving the van had to have been sitting there while she had been staring at it just a few moments ago. Why hadn’t she noticed a driver in the front seat? Had he been hiding, waiting for her to move before pulling out to follow her?

A screech of brakes to her right jerked her gaze from the mirror. To her horror she realized she’d driven right through a stop sign. Cully must have noticed. The driver who’d been forced to brake gestured at her as she went by him, a little too close for comfort.

Thoroughly shaken, she thought about pulling over until she could calm her nerves. Cully’s Jeep, however, turned another corner a block away and she had no choice but to follow him, or she’d lose sight of him. Nervously she glanced in her mirror again.

The minivan was gone.

She blinked, staring in disbelief at the empty road behind her. Had she imagined it? No, it must have turned the corner back there, at the stop sign. She followed Cully into the side street and slammed on her brakes as he pulled to a stop in front of her.

Heart pounding, she waited for him, expecting him to climb out and walk back to her car. He was going to give her a ticket. She’d sailed through a stop sign right in front of his eyes.

To her surprise, he jumped down from the Jeep and sauntered over to a faded brick building she remembered was once a warehouse for distributing cut boards from the lumber mills. It had apparently been turned into offices, with new glass doors built into what had once been a solid brick wall.

Cully paused in front of one of the doors and looked back at her, obviously waiting for her to follow.

She pulled in her breath and let it drift out again before shutting off her engine. Either he hadn’t noticed her mistake, or he planned to ignore it. She hoped it was the former. Just to make sure, she scanned the street both ways as she climbed out of the car. There was no sign of the minivan. Surely, surely, she hadn’t imagined it? Her hands felt clammy as she went through the door that Cully held open for her.

The lawyer’s office was a little too cool for comfort and she wished she’d brought a jacket with her. The room smelled of lemon polish and new furniture. An eager young receptionist sat behind a highly polished desk, which was bare of anything except a telephone, a computer and a flashy sign that announced her name was Tanya.

She greeted Cully with an ease that implied she knew him well. Her disapproving glance at Ginny when Cully introduced her suggested Tanya would like to know the town’s magnetic sheriff a whole lot better and didn’t welcome competition.

She needn’t worry, Ginny thought wryly. It was odd that Cully had never married. Mabel had told her he lived alone on his ranch, with just a housekeeper and a couple of ranch hands to help out. She wondered if he had a girlfriend.

She was still wondering about that when Tanya ushered them into a quiet room with somber dark paneling that Ginny found oppressive. The seconds ticked by as she sat with Cully in awkward silence. More than ever now she wished she’d obeyed that impulse to turn her car around and head for the airport.

Would the minivan have followed her out there?

The unbidden thought disturbed her and she clamped her hands together in her lap. This was a very small town but common sense told her there had to be more than one gray minivan being driven around.

“Don’t look so worried. Paul’s just going to read the will. As soon as he’s through you’ll be free to go.”

At the sound of his deep voice she’d jumped. She tried to dismiss her ridiculous fears with a careless shrug. “I’m not worried. Just impatient.”

“Yeah, I can tell you can’t wait to get out of here. I should’ve remembered how much you hate this town.”

For some ridiculous reason she felt like crying. “I don’t hate it. I just have things to take care of back home, that’s all.”

He nodded, his mouth a thin, straight line. “Right.”

She was saved from saying anything else when the door opened and a thin, gray-haired man wearing a dark blue suit scurried into the room, murmuring apologies.

Again Cully introduced her and she shook the lawyer’s proffered hand, surprised by the strength of his grip. Sharp blue eyes regarded her from behind gold-rimmed spectacles as she sat down again.

“Ms. Matthews, I understand you were married several years ago. Am I right in assuming that Matthews isn’t your married name?”

She hesitated, wondering how much she needed to reveal in order to listen to a will being read.

“Ginny’s husband died recently,” Cully said smoothly. “She’s using her maiden name for now.”

The lawyer’s eyebrows lifted a fraction as he glanced at Cully. “I see. Well, in that case…” He sat down and opened up his briefcase.

Ginny sent Cully a grateful glance, which he barely acknowledged with the briefest of nods.

“Now,” Paul Bellman said, smoothing out the sheaf of papers in front of him, “the situation is this. Jim and Mabel Corbett left everything they owned to each other, with provisions in the event of the survivor’s death.” He began to read the terms of the will, in a dry, unemotional voice.

Ginny tried to follow the legal wording, understanding only the pertinent facts. Jim and Mabel had left certain items to several people, of whom Ginny recognized only three, all of whom had been living with the Corbetts during the years she was there.

The lawyer read out the list of items, some of which Ginny remembered. The pair of silver-plated candlesticks that always stood on a shelf above the fireplace. A white china cat that had lost an ear when one of the kids had thrown a football across the living room. The ancient cuckoo clock that never kept proper time and had to be wound every single day.

Cully sat taking down notes. Now Ginny realized why he was there. If any of those items were missing, it might give him a lead in the investigation. Then again, who would want them? As far as she knew, nothing in that house was worth stealing. Certainly not worth the death of two people. It just didn’t make sense.

Then again, if Cully had a list of the items, he really didn’t need her there at the house. She could leave with a clear conscience. So why did she have a deep feeling of guilt nagging at her? Why couldn’t she forget the eerie sensation of hearing Jim’s voice and his urgent message? Why did she feel that there was something she needed to do before turning her back on Gold Peak and everything it had once meant to her?

“And now,” the lawyer droned on, “we come to the final provision in the will.”

Ginny made her hands relax in her lap. It was almost over. Then, as Cully said, she was free to leave.

“To Ginny Matthews, I leave the house and any contents that have not been disposed of elsewhere, in the hopes that she will find the peace and contentment she deserves.”

CULLY STOOD OUTSIDE the lawyer’s office, watching two squirrels chase each other in and out of the branches of a leafy maple that had escaped the developer’s bulldozer when the warehouse had been renovated.

Ginny was still inside with Paul. She had papers to sign and, he imagined, a dozen questions to ask and he didn’t need to be there. Truth was, he felt he needed a good gulp of fresh air.

He’d been just as surprised as she’d looked when Paul had given her the news. He could imagine her shock. It wasn’t every day someone was handed a house, free and clear. His very first thought had zapped him like the sting of a whip. Now she’d have to stay awhile longer. She couldn’t just take off and leave a house sitting there.

It had taken him no more than a minute or two to amend that. She’d probably hire someone to sell it. Then again, there was stuff to dispose of. The place was chock-full of furniture. Not to mention shelves and cupboards full of knickknacks. Then there was the stuff Mabel and Jim had wanted to go to some of their former foster kids.

He didn’t know how he felt about having Ginny around for a while. She’d made it pretty obvious she was anxious to leave. Seeing her around would only make it harder on him. Too many memories that were best left buried. He’d spent an awful long time learning how to forget.

Deep in thought, he didn’t hear her come out of the office until she spoke behind him. “I guess this changes things,” she said, in a flat tone that didn’t give him any clue as to how she was feeling.

He took his time before twisting his head to look at her. “Congratulations,” he said gruffly. “I reckon the Corbetts must have really cared about you.”

To his dismay he saw tears glistening on her lashes. An almost uncontrollable urge to take her in his arms made him sound more abrupt than he intended. “I suppose you’re going to put the house up for sale.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.” She looked down the street and the lost, helpless look on her face squeezed his heart.

“You need some time.” He took hold of her arm and led her to his Jeep. “We’ll go take a look at the house and you can decide later what you want to do with it.”

To his relief she didn’t give him any argument. She seemed dazed, as if she were walking in a fog, without knowing what she was doing or where she was going.

He settled her in the passenger seat and then climbed into the cab next to her. “We can pick up your car later,” he said as he fired the engine.

She gave him a vague nod then leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes.

He checked his side mirror, waiting for a dirty-looking minivan to roll slowly past him. When it was clear he shifted into gear and glanced at Ginny to check if she had a seat belt on.

His stomach took a nosedive when he saw her expression. She was staring straight ahead, eyes wide, mouth open as if she were uttering a silent scream. He followed her gaze but the road was empty, except for the minivan, which was turning the corner at the end of the street.

“What? What is it? Are you sick?” He leaned over and grabbed her arm and let it go when she flinched so violently he thought he’d hurt her. Now he was really worried. “Ginny? For God’s sake tell me. What’s the matter?”

She was tempted to tell him about the van. If only she could be sure it wasn’t just her mind playing tricks, the way it did in her nightmares.

She shook her head. “Nothing. I’m just in shock, that’s all. It just blows my mind that Jim and Mabel wanted to leave the house to me.”

He had to be satisfied with that answer, although he knew it was a lot more than that. He’d seen fear on her face. Real, intense fear. Something was going on with her and he wasn’t going to rest until he found out what it was.

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