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chief chuckled. “Considering my own experience with two ex-wives, I’d say that’s more than likely the truth.”

      James fisted his hands on his hips, wishing they’d all take the situation as something more than a joke. “We need an officer assigned to keep an eye on her as long as she’s in Desert Valley.”

      Jones considered. “I’m inclined to agree. We sure don’t want any more deaths in this town. I assume you’re volunteering for the assignment?”

      “Me?” James said. “No way. I’ve already got a dog to take care of. Hawk is enough responsibility for two cops.”

      Shane smiled. “But you’re so good at it. Hawk hasn’t chewed up your running shoes for, what? Like, a week now? And you still have one basketball he hasn’t flattened, right?”

      “This isn’t funny,” James said.

      “Absolutely not,” Shane said, nodding gravely with a hint of a grin.

      Jones did not smile, but something in his expression made James think he was enjoying the situation. They’d had their share of arguments since James found himself assigned to this town with zero say in the matter. He hadn’t exactly shown an abundance of tact when he’d complained to the chief about it.

      “Excellent, then,” Jones said. “Go on back and tell Ms. Coles you’ll be her protection detail as soon as she’s released from the hospital.”

      “But I’ve got other cases to work on, the missing puppy and the police dance next week,” James said. Thanks to his blond hair, he was to be the bait to draw out the police dance killer, if there was one. The two rookies who’d died on the night of the police dance, a year apart, were both blond. And so was Ryder Hayes, who’d been a rookie when his wife, Melanie, was killed five years ago, also on the night of the annual police dance. Coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not.

      “Then I guess you’d better help her get her story done so you can go back to work.” The chief turned his back to James and went to examine the photographs that Dennis Marlton was taking of the faint motorcycle tracks.

      You’ve been dismissed, James thought. He forced his jaws to unclench. What was he getting so upset about? Was it because Madison was a reporter? Or because he found himself thinking about her red hair and vibrant eyes more than he should? No way was he going down that road. She was a job, an assignment, and he’d do it because he was a professional, not some young kid who wore his heart on his sleeve. “Lord, help me get this job done,” he muttered.

      He stepped carefully around Hawk, who was sprawled in the shade, drooling. Shane clapped James on the back. “That was quick thinking, rookie. I guess you really got yourself a plum assignment this time.”

      “Yeah,” he grumbled, wondering how in the world he’d managed to snag himself a babysitting detail. For a reporter, no less.

      * * *

      Madison checked herself out of the hospital the next morning against the advice of the doctor in charge. She hadn’t slept for more than a few moments all night, even though she’d been told there was a cop stationed outside her door. Who could blame her, really? Two attempts on her life in the space of one day? She’d heard from James that they’d lost the guy in the woods. Some police work, she thought. Or maybe they hadn’t poured all that much effort into the capture. She was a stranger, after all, a nosy one who was about as welcome as the stomach flu. Something settled heavily inside her.

      No time for self-pity, she thought. She had a story to write, even if it was a dull one about local business, and if she wanted to look into other crimes that was her concern.

      She found herself in the lobby, heading for the receptionist, who would be able to call her a cab. While she stood at the counter, she felt dampness on her knee.

      It was Hawk, happily drooling on her leg.

      She could not resist a chuckle as she scratched his enormous ears.

      “Sorry about the saliva,” James said. “It’s just a bloodhound’s way of saying hello.”

      “Better than some of the cheesy pickup lines I’ve heard.” She searched James’s face, noting some bottled-up tension. His wide shoulders were taut, as if he’d been given some bad news. “Is there an update you need to tell me about?”

      “No. Yes.” He shook his head. “I mean, not about the case.”

      “What, then?”

      “We...Desert Valley PD, I mean...the chief, that is...”

      The strapping Officer Harrison was nervous? “Well?”

      He shook his head and sighed.

      “Have you been assigned to drive me to the city limits? Don’t bother.”

      “Oh, were you thinking of leaving?” James asked, eyebrows raised hopefully. “Understandable. Smart, even with everything that’s happened.”

      “No,” she said firmly. “The doctor told me I can’t drive for a few days, and my sister rides a motorcycle that is not built for two, so I figured I’d stay. Is there really only one hotel in town?”

      “Yes, the Desert Rose Inn, but it’s only got a few rooms.” He cleared his throat.

      “I looked online. They’re booked. I was thinking of renting a cabin at the Desert Pines campground.”

      His eyes widened. “My family...uh, well, never mind about that. It’s a nice campground, and the cabins are well maintained.” He cleared his throat. “But there’s something you should know.”

      She stared at him. “What?”

      “The chief has assigned me to your protection detail until we catch the guy who hurt you.” His words came out in a flood.

      Her mouth fell open. “A protection detail? Are you kidding? How am I going to get my job done with you hanging around all the time?”

      His lips twisted into a wry grin. “I was wondering exactly the same thing about my work.”

      Determined not to be charmed by his little-boy smile, she crossed her arms. “And you were figuring, what? I’d move into the station or something? Into your dorm or barracks or whatever?”

      “I live in the condo for K-9 trainees. Believe me, there’s not a square inch of room left over there with Hawk lazing around.”

      “Fine, because I wouldn’t stay there, anyway. This is ridiculous. I’ve got pepper spray in my pocket. I’ll be perfectly safe.”

      James did not appear to be listening. His blue eyes danced in thought. “Now that I think about it, the campground will work great. Plenty of people, lots of eyes and ears. I’ll rent a cabin, too. There’s a decent basketball court there, and Hawk will love the fresh air.” He grimaced. “And the squirrels. You can come with me to the station for briefings. There’s a workroom and a coffeemaker.”

      And then, having seemingly put her life and his in order, he walked off, Hawk bouncing along after him.

      She gaped. What had just happened? Had the infuriatingly handsome cop just told her he was going to be her babysitter in Desert Valley?

      “That’s not going to work,” she called across the lobby. Nobody was going to manage her life, especially a man. God hadn’t delivered her from her father to make her dependent on anyone else.

      But James and Hawk were already passing through the automatic doors to the police car parked out front. James loaded Hawk into the back and opened the passenger-side front door before lazily sprawling against the frame.

      Was he waiting for her? He was ready to load her up into the car like some sort of well-trained dog? Did he think he could command her like he did Hawk?

      You’ve got another thing coming, James Harrison. Another thing entirely.

      

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