LITMIR.BIZ

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      “One more thing,” Dillon said as he hung up his phone. “I’ve known Jodie Freemont since she was a little girl. I promised her I’d tell you to keep your distance.”

      Shane’s brows rose. “Does she think I have designs on her?”

      “She’s more concerned about Sophie and Irene—being taken in by a smooth-talking charmer was the way she put it. But I don’t want her hurt again, especially by someone who’ll be leaving town once he gets his man. Am I making myself clear?”

      “As crystal,” Shane said as he rose and walked to the door.

      AT FIVE O’CLOCK on the dot, Jodie started her car. Two things were driving her as she shot it out of the parking lot: escaping from Mindy Lou’s overbearing concern and building her snare trap in the attic. Clyde Heffner, the student who had downloaded the diagram, was going to drop by and help her string it up around eight-thirty, not a minute too soon.

      It wasn’t until late in the afternoon, when her boss Angus Campbell had been droning on about the contributors who would be attending the Mistletoe Ball, that she’d realized the significance of what Sheriff Dillon had told her. If Billy had come back to town, he could have been the prowler in the attic last night. And if he came back tonight, she wanted to have the trap all set! Catching Billy and turning him over to the sheriff would change her image in Castleton once and for all.

      When she had to stop for the light at the corner, she turned the jazz music station she favored up full blast. Her car, a five-year-old red hatchback, was her one luxury. True, it wasn’t the convertible she’d always dreamed of owning, but…

      She lost her train of thought the moment she spotted Alicia Finnerty stepping off the curb with a group of women. Wasn’t that just her luck? It would be too much to hope that the woman wouldn’t recognize her car. Way too much, she thought, as Alicia glanced at her significantly, then turned to chatter to her companions.

      One by one, the other women looked her way with varying expressions of concern and curiosity. Jodie was tempted to roll down her window, grab the rope lying on her passenger seat and wave it at them. Instead, she forced herself to smile as the light changed and she eased her car around the corner. Her impulsiveness had already gotten her into enough hot water today. And it hadn’t helped her one bit. It had only contributed to everyone’s notion that she was exactly like her mother, a woman who would never recover from the loss of a man.

      No, if she wanted to change her image in the town, she was going to have to do something that destroyed the idea once and for all that she was the type of woman who would spend her whole life pining over a man who couldn’t be tied down.

      The moment she reached the village limits, she floored the gas pedal and watched the speedometer climb to fifty-five. When she automatically eased the pressure, she suddenly frowned. Why in the world did she always follow all of the rules?

      Go For It! The moment the motto popped into her mind, she watched as the needle climbed to five, then six, finally seven miles over the speed limit. Not enough to get a ticket. Maybe she’d go for that tomorrow.

      Tonight, she had bigger plans: catching Billy Rutherford. What had yesterday’s motto been? Visualize Your Goal. Even as she smiled at the thought, she decided to give it a whirl. It couldn’t hurt, could it?

      In her mind, she pictured herself on the front page of the Castleton Bulletin, delivering Billy Rutherford to Sheriff Dillon.

      Yes! She nodded her head in satisfaction. That one photo would truly be worth a thousand words. It would change her image in one fell swoop. With a jazz rendition of “Jingle Bells” pouring out of the radio, Jodie kept the picture clear in her mind until Rutherford House came into view.

      The moment she turned into the driveway, she stopped thinking about anything but the car that was parked in front of the garage.

      It was in her space, but that’s not why she skidded to a stop behind Sophie’s station wagon and jumped out of her car. It was a red convertible, the kind she dreamed of owning one day. Circling to the driver’s side, she peered inside. A two-seater with leather seats. Exactly what she wanted. Quickly she backed up to get a better view. Without any difficulty at all, she pictured herself behind the wheel, driving down the main street of town, her hair ruffled by the wind.

      Perfect.

      SHANE WATCHED Jodie from the shade at the side of the garage. She hadn’t seen him yet, hadn’t even glanced his way. It was the car that had held her attention since she’d arrived. He couldn’t prevent a smile as he watched her circle it. He’d reacted much the same way the first time he’d seen it.

      It suddenly occurred to him that the feeling he’d had more than once since he’d met her was one of…He searched for a word. Kinship? Recognition?

      He found the thought both surprising and a little alarming. He had nothing in common with a smalltown librarian. And he didn’t want to have anything in common with her. A woman like that had home and hearth written all over her. She wasn’t his type at all. He’d long ago decided that he wasn’t the type of man who’d ever settle down.

      Plus, she was his key to finding Rutherford and the money. Even if she wasn’t Billy’s accomplice, and he was beginning to believe that Dillon was right about that, she might still be the one person Billy might feel he could trust and turn to.

      He’d seen evidence of her fierce loyalty to the Rutherford sisters, and it might very well extend to their nephew. He couldn’t fault that. In fact he admired it. Loyalty was rare these days. And it would draw a man back.

      He watched her as she ran her hands over the hood of his car, slowly, hesitantly. Her fingers were short but slender, the nails tapered and unpolished. Her palms would be soft, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she would have that same hesitancy the first time she touched a man. And how that might change when she was aroused, when that latent passion broke free…

      With a frown, Shane reined in his thoughts. Clearly, Jodie Freemont was a distraction. But he didn’t intend to let her interfere with his job.

      If she was Billy’s accomplice, she’d know where the money was. If not, she could be his key to finding it. In both instances, he had to get close to her, win her trust.

      So you’ll use her just as Billy did?

      The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth he quietly stepped out of the shade.

      “I think you’re breaking one of the commandments,” he said with a smile when he reached her.

      Startled, Jodie snatched her hand from the hood of the car and whirled to find Shane at her side. “What? I wasn’t going to steal it. I was just touching it.”

      “I was talking about the tenth commandment. ‘Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods.”’

      “I wasn’t…I was…” Pausing, she sighed. “I definitely was. You know, I’ve never understood that commandment. What’s wrong with coveting as long as that’s where it ends?”

      “But usually it doesn’t end that way. Coveting is a lot like lust. It doesn’t go away. It just builds and builds until the temptation to reach out and take becomes so strong, you just can’t resist anymore. Go ahead.”

      Jodie found that while she’d been looking into his eyes, listening to his words, her throat had gone dry as dust. He was talking in theory, not about anything, and certainly not anyone, specific. But his eyes had grown so dark that the image of herself that she could see in them suddenly seemed swallowed up. And his tone of voice had been so intimate, so inviting that she wanted in the worst way to reach out and touch him the same way she’d felt compelled to touch the car moments ago. Was this the way a moth was lured into a flame?

      “Go ahead and touch,” Shane said.

      Jodie blinked. Could he read her mind? No. No, he was talking about the car. Reaching out, she ran her hand over the shiny surface of the hood again. It felt hard and satiny smooth, but different somehow. Was she

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