LITMIR.BIZ

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One

      Deputy Court McCall glanced down at the blood on his shirt. His father’s blood. Just the sight of it sliced away at him and made him feel as if someone had put a bullet in him, too.

      Court hadn’t changed into clean clothes because he wanted Rayna Travers to see what she had done. He wanted to be right in her face when he told her that she’d failed.

      Barely though.

      His father, Warren, was still alive, hanging on by a thread, but Court refused to accept that he wouldn’t make it. No, his father would not only recover, but Warren would also help Court put Rayna behind bars. This time, she wasn’t going to get away with murder.

      Court pulled to a stop in front of her house, a place not exactly on the beaten path. Of course, that applied to a lot of the homes in or near McCall Canyon. His ancestors had founded the town over a hundred years ago, and it had become exactly what they’d intended it to be—a ranching community.

      What they almost certainly hadn’t counted on was having a would-be killer in their midst.

      Court looked down at his hands. Steady. That was good. Because there was nothing steady inside him. The anger was bubbling up, and he had to make sure he reined in his temper enough to arrest Rayna. He wouldn’t resort to strong-arm tactics, but there was a high chance he would say something he shouldn’t.

      Since Rayna’s car was in her driveway, it probably meant she was home. Good. He hadn’t wanted to go hunting for her. Still, it was somewhat of a surprise that she hadn’t gone on the run. Of course, she was probably going to say she was innocent, that she hadn’t had anything to do with the shot that’d slammed into his father’s chest. But simply put, she had a strong motive to kill a McCall.

      And then there was the witness.

      If Rayna tried to convince him she’d had no part in the shooting, then Court would let her know that someone had spotted her in the vicinity of the sheriff’s office just minutes before Warren had been gunned down. Then Court would follow through on her arrest.

      He got out of his truck and started toward the porch of the small stone-front house, but Court made it only a few steps because his phone rang, and his brother’s name popped up on the screen.

      Egan.

      Egan wasn’t just his big brother though. He was also Court’s boss, since Egan was the sheriff of McCall Canyon. By now, Egan had probably figured out where Court was heading and wanted to make sure his deputy followed the book on this one.

      He would.

      Not cutting corners because he wanted Rayna behind bars.

      Court ignored the call, and the ding of the voice mail that followed, and went up the steps to the front door. This wasn’t his first time here. Once, he’d made many trips to Rayna’s door—before she’d chosen another man over him. Once, he’d had feelings for her. He had feelings now, too, but they had nothing to do with the old attraction he’d once felt.

      He steeled himself and put his hand over his firearm in case Rayna wasn’t finished with her shooting spree today.

      “Open up,” Court said, knocking on the door. Of course, he knocked a lot louder than necessary, but he wanted to make sure she heard him.

      If she did hear him, she darn sure didn’t answer. He knocked again, his anger rising even more, and Court finally tested the knob. Unlocked. So, he threw open the door.

      And he found a gun pointed right in his face.

      Rayna’s finger was on the trigger.

      Court cursed and automatically drew his own weapon. Obviously, it was too late because she could have fired before he’d even had a chance to do that. She didn’t though. Maybe because Rayna felt she’d already fulfilled her quota of shooting McCalls today.

      “Put down your gun,” he snarled.

      “No.” Rayna shook her head, and that was when he noticed there was blood in her blond hair. Blood on the side of her face, too. Added to that, he could see bruises and cuts on her knuckles and wrists. “I’m not going to let you try to kill me again.”

      “Again?” Court was certain he looked very confused. Because he was. “What the devil are you talking about? I came here to arrest you for shooting my father.”

      If that news surprised her in the least, she didn’t show it. She didn’t lower her gun, either. Rayna stood there, glaring at him.

      What the hell had happened here?

      Court looked behind her to see if the person who’d given her those injuries was still around. There was no sign of anyone else, but the furniture in the living room had been tossed around. There was a broken lamp on the floor. More blood, too. All indications of a struggle.

      “Start talking,” Court demanded, making sure he sounded like the lawman that he was.

      “I will. When Egan gets here.”

      Court cursed again. Egan definitely wasn’t going to approve of Court storming out here to see her, but his brother also couldn’t ignore the evidence that Rayna had shot their father. There was definitely something else going on though.

      “My father’s alive,” Court told her. “You didn’t manage to kill him after all.”

      She looked down at his shirt. At the blood. And Rayna glanced away as if the sight of it sickened her. Court took advantage of her glance and knocked the gun from her hand.

      At least that was what he tried to do, but Rayna held on. She pushed him, and in the same motion, she turned to run. That was when Court tackled her. Her gun went flying, skittering all the way into the living room, and both Court and she landed hard on the floor.

      Rayna groaned in pain. It wasn’t a soft groan, and while holding her side, she scrambled away from him. Court was about to dive at her again, but he saw yet more blood. This time on the side that she was holding.

      That stopped him.

      “What’s wrong with you? What happened?” Court snapped.

      She looked around as if considering another run for it, but then her shoulders sagged as if she was surrendering.

      Rayna sat up, putting her weight, and the back of her head, against the wall. She opened her mouth as if to start with that explanation, but she had to pause when her breath shuddered. She waved that off as if embarrassed by it and then hiked up her chin. It seemed to him as if she was trying to look strong.

      She failed.

      “When I came in from the barn about an hour ago, there was someone in my house,” Rayna said, her voice still a little unsteady. “I didn’t see who it was because he immediately clubbed me on the head and grabbed me from behind.” She winced again when she rubbed her left side. “I think he cracked my ribs when he hit me with something.”

      Well, hell. Court certainly hadn’t expected any of this. And reminded himself that maybe it was all a lie, to cover up for the fact that she’d committed a crime. But those wounds weren’t lies. They were the real deal. That didn’t mean that they weren’t self-inflicted.

      “I got away from him,” she continued a moment later. “After he hit me a few more times. And I pulled my gun, which I had in a slide holster in the back of my jeans. That’s when he left. I’m not sure where he went.”

      That didn’t make sense. “If someone really broke in an hour ago, why didn’t you call the sheriff’s office right away?”

      Rayna lifted her head a little and raised her eyebrow. For a simple gesture, it said loads. She didn’t trust the cops. Didn’t trust him.

      Well, the feeling was mutual.

      “I passed out for a while,” she added. She shook her head as if even she was confused by that, and she lifted the side of her shirt

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