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      Cody still marveled that Travis had ended up marrying a woman he had arrested for murder. Three years after her conviction, the sheriff had discovered new evidence that proved Lacy was innocent, and he had thrown himself into seeing that her conviction was vacated. After she was freed, he had enlisted her help to find the real murderer. Talk about an unlikely love story.

      “I can’t believe there’s a serial killer in Eagle Mountain,” Bette said. “Lacy, why didn’t you tell me?”

      “I didn’t want to scare you off,” Lacy said. “Call me selfish, but it’s true.” She leaned toward her friend. “You’re not scared, are you? You don’t need to be. I can’t think of anything safer than being here at the ranch, with two lawmen in residence, now that Cody is staying here. And Gage is up here all the time, too.”

      “I’m not afraid,” Bette said. “Though Cody said one of the women was killed here on the ranch.”

      Lacy frowned. “Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean it was someone from here. We were having a scavenger hunt. People were spread out all over the place, so the killer could have sneaked onto the property at any time. But if you make it a point not to go anywhere by yourself, you should be fine.”

      “I’m happy to accompany you if you need an escort,” Cody said, but the offer only earned him a sour look from Bette.

      The door from the kitchen opened and Rainey emerged, bearing a large silver tray. Cody rose to help her, but she shrugged him away. “I can get it,” she said, as she set the tray on the low table in front of the sofa. “I thought you might like something to snack on before supper.”

      “Oh, it looks delicious,” Lacy said, scooting forward and helping herself to a cheese puff.

      Rainey remained tight-lipped. “Have you seen Doug?” she asked. “He’s disappeared and it’s time for him to help me with supper.”

      “I saw him a few minutes ago, out by the stables,” Cody said.

      “Probably smoking a cigarette,” Rainey said. “He does that when he’s upset.”

      Cody stuffed a sausage roll into his mouth, using it as an excuse not to comment.

      “I can help you if you like,” Bette said. She started to stand. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”

      “I can manage fine on my own,” Rainey said. “I’ve been doing it for years. I’m sure you’re the reason Doug is staying away. You’ve upset him.”

      “What have I done to upset him?” Bette asked, but Rainey was already walking away, back to the kitchen.

      “I’m sorry she’s being so rude to you,” Lacy said. “I can talk to Mr. and Mrs. Walker if you like. I’m sure they would speak to her.”

      “No, don’t say anything. I don’t want to cause trouble.” She stood. “I think what I’d like to do is freshen up before dinner. And I want to check out that cute cabin where you’ve put me. I didn’t see much when we dropped off my luggage.”

      Cody stood. “Let me walk you out. My cabin isn’t far and I should probably clean up before dinner, too.”

      “I don’t think that’s really necessary,” she said.

      “Humor me,” he said, lifting her coat off the pegs by the door.

      “Let him go with you,” Lacy said. “I mean, you’re probably perfectly fine, but until Travis catches this killer, it probably doesn’t hurt to be overly cautious.”

      If looks could kill, Cody thought Lacy might have been at least injured by the glare Bette sent her, but she allowed Cody to help her into her coat, and she stalked out the door in front of him.

      Cody followed, not trying to catch up with her, more amused than insulted. He half suspected Lacy of doing a little matchmaking, trying to throw the two of them together, but it probably didn’t hurt for the women to be a little more careful until the murderer was caught.

      Bette had been assigned the first in a row of four log guest cabins arranged alongside the creek, past the horse barns. Cody’s cabin was next to hers, the other two reserved for wedding guests due to arrive later. Someone—one of the ranch hands, probably—had shoveled the stone walkway leading to the cabin, which, if it was like Cody’s, consisted of a single large room and attached bathroom, and a small covered porch with a single chair and small table.

      The sun had set, casting the world around them in gray twilight, but a light shone over the door of Bette’s cabin. She stopped at the bottom of the steps leading up onto the porch. Cody halted behind her. “What is it?” he asked, then followed her gaze to the door. There, in bright red paint, someone had scrawled the words Go Home!

      * * *

      ONCE SHE WAS over the initial shock of seeing the message on her door, Bette was more angry than frightened. “I guess we know what Doug Whittington was up to when his mother couldn’t find him,” she said, starting up the steps, her key in her hand.

      “Don’t touch the door.” Cody took her hand as she was reaching for the knob.

      She glared at him. “What? You think you’re going to find fingerprints? And then what? I don’t think a nasty message is exactly a major crime.” She pulled out of his grasp, inserted her key in the lock and shoved open the door. Not waiting to be asked, Cody followed her in—not that that surprised her. He was in full-on cop mode, on the case. Except there was no case.

      “You don’t know that Doug did this,” he said.

      “Unless his mother took a break from preparing dinner and ran out here with a can of red paint, my money is on Doug. No one else here is so anxious for me to leave.” She looked around the room, but clearly nothing had been disturbed. Her unopened suitcases stood by the bed, which was still neatly made, a blue-and-yellow patchwork quilt draped across it.

      “I’ll talk to him,” Cody said.

      “No.” She grabbed his wrist, squeezing hard, making sure she had his full attention. “Don’t say anything. The best way to deal with this kind of harassment is to ignore it.”

      He set his jaw in a stubborn line and his eyes met hers—denim-blue eyes a woman could get lost in. Clearly, he wasn’t a man who ignored anything. “If I tell him to lay off hassling you or he’ll have to deal with me, I think he’ll stop,” he said.

      “Your job is not to protect me,” she said. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.”

      He took a step toward her, so that the front of his duster almost brushed against her puffy coat. He was breathing hard, and she realized she was, too. She was torn between wanting to slap him and wanting to grab his shoulders and pull him down to her in a kiss. Her hormones were jumping up and down, shouting, “Big, sexy man—must have,” trying hard to drown out her brain, which was pleading that she had more sense than this.

      Cody’s gaze shifted to her lips and she wondered if he was thinking the same thing—a dangerous thought that had her releasing her hold on him and stepping back, until she bumped into the bed. “You need to leave,” she said, her brain momentarily getting the upper hand.

      “Yeah, I probably do.” He stepped back also, though his eyes remained locked to hers. “Just promise me if anything else happens—something more than annoying messages—you’ll call for me. My cabin is next door.” He nodded to his right.

      “Sure.” She hugged her coat more tightly around her body. “But nothing is going to happen. This is kid stuff.”

      “What are you going to do about the door?”

      “I’ll find something to clean the message off the door before anyone sees it.”

      “Or you could show it to the Walkers and let them know what’s going on.”

      “No. I don’t

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