Authors: Cameron Dane
Jace watched the cowboy sitting across the bunkhouse table, looking for deception as he spoke. “So when I make a phone call to confirm your alibi, it's going to check out without any problems. Right?” Clevon Husker was the last person on Jasper's list of Ginger's lovers, the one who had taken vacation at the time of Ginger's murder.
“Yes, sir.” Clevon nodded. “I was in Cheyenne, just like I told the bosses. I swear. That's my family's numbers, and they'll all say so. I could probably find my bus ticket, if you really want it.”
“Give that a try sometime tonight and get it down to the station,” Jace said. “That would be very helpful.” Before standing, he leaned across the table and shook Clevon's hand. “I appreciate your time. Thank you for cooperating without complaint.”
“Yes, sir.” Clevon nodded again and pushed his rusty-colored hair behind his ears. “I liked Ginger real well. I hope whoever killed her gets caught.”
Jace paused at the bunkhouse door. “But you said you ended things with her. Why do that if you liked her so much?”
“Look, Deputy Maxwell”—Clevon's ears burned as red as his hair—“the truth is, I do all right with the money the Hawkinses pay me, but I ain't getting rich. I got a momma back in Cheyenne who needs a little bit of help every now and then too. Ginger was nice, and I had fun with her, but her dreams were just too much for what I make. I couldn't go with her on lots of trips and such. It came so as I hardly ever saw her anymore, so I broke up with her and wished her good luck.”
“How did she take it?”
“Just fine,” Clevon answered. “She said she understood, and she wanted me to have a good life too, and she said she hoped my momma got better soon. Like I said, she was nice, just not the right girl for me.”
“All right, thank you.” Jace held the door open and let Clevon pass. “I'll let you get back to work now.”
The cowboy put his Stetson on and started walking toward the horse barn. “Thank you too. I'll get on looking for that ticket tonight.” He waved. “Bye.”
Jace dipped his head in return and started in the direction of Caleb and Jake's house, where he was set to meet up with Cade. Damn it. This guy Clevon didn't kill Ginger any more than it seemed any other of the cowboys she'd dated had. All of them had similar stories of amicable breakups, if they'd been together long enough to call what they had with her dating. For the string of men in her wake, and what law enforcement suspected her secret life held, this girl was universally liked. Nobody even remotely looked like they wished her harm, let alone would want to murder and display her in such a grandstanding way. Clevon was just another dead end. “Fuck.”
He needed to get an okay from the boss to talk to Beth again. He knew she had more information about her friend than she was sharing.
“That didn't sound like the good kind of fuck,” Ren said, his voice pulling Jace's attention in his direction. Ren easily fell into step beside Jace and raised a brow. “I take it that means you didn't have success, and that Cade is going to be either out till midnight again or home, but with his mind still back at the station.”
Jace pursed his lips, biting down his frustration. “Can't really talk about it.”
“I know.” Ren shoved his hands into his pockets, and his dark brown chaps flapped in the spring breeze. “Doesn't matter. When I see him, his eyes will tell me everything I need to know.”
“Right.”
Fuck. Again
. Ren and Cade had such a tight bond that even with half of Cade's face damaged and unable to move or form expression, Ren still understood his partner's moods without words. Envy ate at Jace, even as he wondered if Sarah had given him a gift this morning by saying they couldn't have sex again without Jasper involved. Jace really, really could not afford the temptation of taking her a second time, and as long as Jasper was out of the picture, he knew her answer would be no. Jace needed time to deaden himself inside again. That way, by the time Jasper did come back to Sarah—as Jace knew without a doubt he would—Jace would be prepared to stay well out of their relationship.
He just needed Jasper to stay away from Sarah for a bit longer until he could figure out how to distance himself for good.
From both of them.
His gut twisted with denial, and that was when Jace saw Jasper climb up the railing of the bull-riding ring and lean over to help someone settle on an animal for a ride. Jace checked Jasper out, unable not to, and nearly groaned at the sight of his tight ass covered in dark denim, framed by a fringed pair of black chaps.
Holy shit, he has such an enticing, lean, sexy body
. Jace only wanted Sarah's ass more than he wanted Jasper's. Christ, he knew this cowboy's tail end would be so goddamn tight and hot when he pushed his cock inside that hole—
“Hey there, Cade.” Ren's voice, full of affection, grabbed Jace out of his lust-filled thoughts, and Jace shifted his focus to Cade striding toward them. Ren added, “I heard someone say you were here with Jace, and thought I'd come see for myself.”
Cade slipped his arm around Ren's waist, tipped the younger man's hat back, and leaned in to steal a kiss.
“I'm glad you did,” Cade said. “Even if I can't stay long.” He kept his arm around Ren's waist but looked at Jace over Ren's shoulder. “We're done here?”
Jace nodded. He didn't bother hiding his grim expression, and Cade read it right away.
Cade's scars pulled his mouth on one side, and he muttered, “Fuck.”
Ren chuckled and jerked his head toward Jace. “That's what he said.”
“The boss will be saying…” Jace's attention strayed to Jasper as he jumped off the railing. The man stopped in place as soon as he saw Jace. They made eye contact, and the dark smudges under his eyes and the listless hazel color that usually sparked with gold attacked Jace's system a thousand times more potently than his handsome face and rangy cowboy body.
Just as quickly as Jasper looked at Jace, he pulled his gaze away, put his head down, and walked with speed in the direction of the bunkhouse.
Jace's chest constricted, paining him with shocking depth. “Christ. He looks so fucking sad.” The words slipped out, unbidden.
“Yeah,” Ren agreed, sympathy in his voice. “I had to drag it out of him, but he just looked so wrecked when I saw him this morning, I couldn't let it go.” Trading a glance with Jace, then looking down the path where Jasper had disappeared, Ren leaned into Cade and hugged him close. “I can't believe he broke up with her.”
Jace's temperature rose just thinking about Samuel Simmons, and he couldn't swallow away the bitter taste in his mouth. “He told you why?”
With ice in his gaze, Ren nodded. “Son of a bitch was already here earlier today, looking for Jas. Walked around the property easy as you please, introducing himself and making it seem like he and his brother were the best of friends before he came across Jas working in the bull barn. As soon as I heard the dude was here, I alerted Caleb”—both men knew of Samuel Simmons's trouble with the law—“and when we came up on them, Jas was telling his brother to get the hell off the property and that he didn't want to see him or talk to him. Samuel was pushing back, saying Jas had gotten above himself and didn't come from any better stock than he did. Man, Samuel was doing a good job intimidating Jas and making him look sick with every word he said.”
Ren gnashed his teeth, and Jace knew the man fought anger on his friend's behalf. “Caleb stepped in and told him to leave. He said the property wasn't open for people to visit without making their presence known to ownership first. Samuel got all apologetic and said since there wasn't a guard posted, he figured it would be all right to find his brother and say hi. Caleb escorted him off the land and told him not to come back unannounced or he would be arrested for trespassing.” Fired up and animated, Ren pulled away from Cade and pointed toward the unseen entry to Hawkins Ranch, stabbing his finger in the air. “Can you believe the bastard had the nerve to say he was looking for work and hoped he could land a job side by side with his brother?”
“Zip your lip, honey.” Cade pinched Ren's lips between his thumb and forefinger. “Your friend is coming this way, and I don't know if he'd like knowing you shared that story without his permission.”
Looking suddenly stricken and a little green around the gills, Ren mumbled, “I'll tell him later that I did.”
Cade's dark eyes softened in two ticks. He cupped Ren's neck and drew him close for a gentle, sweet kiss. His voice dropped, but Jace heard him say, “You're passionate because you care about him. I get that. I wasn't lecturing, just…reminding.”
Jace shifted his focus from Ren and Cade to Jasper, watching as he ate up the space between the bunkhouse to where Jace, Ren, and Cade stood. A bright gift bag hung from his left hand, and Jace found himself walking toward the man, meeting him in the middle of the path.
Jasper stopped and pulled his hat off his head, showing the disarray of his blond hair, as well as a dirt-streaked line of sweat that cut across his forehead. “Hi.” His voice held a breathless quality, and he wiped his shirtsleeve across his brow, pushing his hair back and creating a widow's peak.
“Are you okay?” Jace asked, his tone unnaturally soft. Forget his messy locks; Jace found he had to curl his hand behind his back so he didn't reach out and caress the smudges of tiredness under Jasper's eyes. Jesus, he didn't care a damn bit about fucking this man right now. “I understand you had another visit from your brother.”
“It's fine. If he's botherin' me, then he ain't—
isn't
—botherin' Sarah, and that's what matters most.” His chin lifted, steadied, and a wash of ridiculous pride filled Jace on Jasper's behalf.
What the fuck?
“Look,” Jasper went on, “I gotta get back to work. I just saw you standin'… Can you give this to Sarah for me?” he asked, thrusting the colorful gift bag at Jace. “I got it for her before”— his jaw worked overtime, and he blinked rapidly—“Samuel came. It's a book she wished she had. I still want her to have it.”
“Ah, Jasper…” Jace took the bag, but his throat constricted, and he slipped more and more into understanding why Sarah cared so much about this person. “You should give it to her. If you guys have discussed this, it'll mean more coming directly from you.”
“No. I can't.” Jasper shook his head and even backed away, as if afraid Jace would make him take it back. “If it stays in the bunkhouse too long, it'll get messed up. If you could just give it to her, I would appreciate it.” He shoved his hat back on his head and drew the brim low, shading his eyes. “I gotta go. Bye.” He took off in the direction of the bull ring and climbed up on the railing by the practice chute. Seconds later, Ren joined him, stepping up and bumping his shoulder.
Jace stared, and he felt Cade move in beside him. Without looking at his colleague, Jace said, “Jesus H. Christ.” He twisted the strings of the gift bag's handle in his hands. “I did not want to like that kid.”
“It's always those ones who get under our skin the most,” Cade observed, his voice subdued. “And he's not a kid. Not anymore.”
Grimacing, Jace said, “I know that too.” He finally tore his stare off Jasper's backside and put it on Cade. “You ready to head back to the station?”
“Let's go.”
Sarah looked up from her desk and smiled at the suited gentleman, who had a shock of jetblack hair. “I apologize,” she said, “but I had to take that call. What did you say your name was again?”
“Peter Robbins.” The man stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Sarah exchanged a handshake with the stranger. “How can I help you?” “I'd like to speak to the sheriff, please, if he can spare a few minutes.” The man
“All right.” Sarah kept her usual smile plastered to her face and managed to keep the surprise out of her voice too. “It might be a few minutes before he can see you. If you wouldn't mind taking a seat?” She indicated a half dozen chairs against the front wall of the station. “I'll see what I can do.”
Sarah knew her boss was in an important meeting with the deputy mayor but suspected he wouldn't want to wait any longer than necessary to deal with someone connected to Ginger's family. They were his priority, and he didn't want even a whiff that their requests to stay in the loop of the investigation were being ignored.
She jotted down a couple of sentences along with Mr. Robbins's name, then got up and softly knocked on the sheriff's door. After he said “Enter,” she went inside and handed him the note with an apology, meant more for Mr. Gates than the sheriff. She'd been working for Duke Boone ever since it was legal for her to have a job at the station, courtesy of the fact that Jace wanted to be able to keep an eye on her. The boss would never have her apologize for doing her job, but she knew he appreciated that she understood how to deftly handle the egos of the “suits” who were part of the political side of the sheriff's job.
Sarah shut the door behind her and walked back to her desk, only to find Alex waiting for her with a big bouquet of yellow, white, and pink roses.
“For you.” He held the cellophane-wrapped flowers out to her.
“Oh wow, they're beautiful.” Sarah brought them to her nose but stopped before inhaling. “Can you give me just one second?”
Alex slipped his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, grinning as he lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Absolutely. Take two.”
Sarah shifted to the suited man sitting in their makeshift waiting area. “Mr. Robbins?”
The guy looked up from flipping through a magazine. “Yes?”
“Sheriff Boone will be with you as soon as he can.”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure. Can I get you something to drink while you wait?”
“That's very kind, but I'm fine.” Peter Robbins went back to flipping through the magazine. “This will do me while I wait.”
“Let me know if you change your mind.”
Peter Robbins smiled and nodded. “I will.”
He looked down, and Sarah shifted back to Alex. She put the flowers to her nose again, this time taking a moment to inhale the soft rose fragrance. The distinctive scent reminded her of her mother and the small rose garden she'd tried to cultivate in the backyard when Sarah and Hunter were kids. More often than not, the roses that ended up on their kitchen table were the miniature variety and came from the grocery store, courtesy of Hunter's allowance. Memories of her brother's sweet nature formed a knot in Sarah's breast. God, she worried about him in the middle of such danger.
“They weren't supposed to make you sad,” Alex said, drawing Sarah's eyes open and to him. A worry line creased his brow. “They're a thank-you for doing such a great job introducing me to folks and showing me around town.”
Sarah stuffed everything down and forced a happier expression to her face. “I'm sorry. The flowers are beautiful, and I love them. Roses make me think of my mom, which also makes me think of my brother. This isn't my sad look. It's more”—Sarah reached for words that would smooth the mood in the air—“wistful. Or wishful, maybe.”
Alex dipped down and looked into her eyes. “You swear?”
“These are perfect.” Sarah gave an honest answer, if not a complete one. Missing her family was her problem. It was not the job of the rest of the world to make her feel better. “Thank you for them.”
“Okay. I'm going to take you at your word.” Taking his hands out of his pockets, Alex leaned his elbows on the high counter wall that separated her desk from the entry. “Anyway”— he smiled, and his deep green eyes lit with light—“I just wanted to let you know I had good talks with Michaels and Sandavow today, and they're going to give serious consideration to my offers to buy their land. You were a very big part of them being so open to listening to me.”
Sarah shook her head and made a face. “You're a good pitchman because you have passion about what you do. I was happy to show you around, but you would have been just as successful without me.”
He arched a brow at her with mock menace. “We'll just have to disagree on that, Ms. Tennison.”
She glared right back at him. “I guess we will, Mr. Quick,” she said sternly but ruined it by laughing.