“Scaring is one thing, but stalking is a criminal act and very serious.”
The long chase she’d gone through tonight had certainly felt criminal. But she didn’t want to think about that now. She didn’t want to think that someone might have actually wanted to scare her that much, or even worse, to make her crash.
She tried to shake off the sinister thoughts. “Well, the car did go on after I crashed. I suppose if the driver had really wanted to do me harm they would have come back to finish what they started.”
The deputy’s lips pressed into a grim line. “I don’t want to scare you, but this person might have believed the crash finished you and he or she didn’t want to risk being caught at the scene of a crime.”
Lucita’s blood turned ice-cold. “I can only hope you’re wrong.”
His expression softened slightly. “I hope I’m wrong, too,” he replied, then asked, “Can you tell me more about the vehicle?”
Shaking her head, she sighed wearily. “Not much. I’m fairly certain that it was a car, low-slung and sleek. It looked black or some dark color.”
“Nothing more about the make or model? The tag?”
A dull ache was beginning to spread through her whole head. She wiped a hand over her forehead while wishing for aspirin and a cool pillow beneath her cheek. “No. I didn’t have time to catch any details. It zoomed up behind me and then I was too blinded to see anything more.”
Nodding, he jotted something down on his notepad. “Well, right now you’re probably going to be more angry with me than the tailgater, because I’m going to have to write you up on a traffic violation for reckless driving.”
Wide-eyed now, she stared at him. “What about the hog? Doesn’t it count for anything? And the tailgater—or whatever he was?”
One corner of his mouth lifted wryly. “Other than your word, I have no proof of a tailgater or a hog. But I do intend to make a search.” He handed her info back to her, then, picking up the flashlight, he opened the truck door and ordered, “You stay where you are.”
What the heck did he think she was going to do? Lucita wondered. Her car was incapacitated and her legs felt like mush. It was still several miles to the ranch. She could hardly walk home from here. And she wasn’t about to stumble around in the dark to help him hunt for a dead hog.
Far off to her left, beneath a beam of headlights, she could see her crumpled car and the officer called Lijah working to upright the barbed-wire fence. To her immediate right, Deputy McCleod was searching the shoulders of the highway, sweeping the high grass with his flashlight.
The man was a handsome devil, she thought. There was no denying the fact. Something about this man had caught her attention the moment he’d stepped up and dabbed his handkerchief to her bleeding head.
She still couldn’t believe she’d actually searched his left hand for a sign of a wedding ring. What could have possibly possessed her? The deputy’s marital status had nothing to do with anything.
She wasn’t looking for a man to curl up to. Even one that looked as good as Deputy Ripp McCleod. She’d had one good-looking, smooth-talking man in her life and now that he’d gone with the wind, along with her family inheritance, she’d vowed to never have another. But this Texas lawman was more than enough to make a woman forget her vows!
Chapter Two
Her head now throbbing with pain, Lucita pulled her handbag onto her lap and began to search for a painkiller. She was still pawing her way through lipstick tubes and crumpled receipts when the cab door opened again and Deputy McCleod slid beneath the steering wheel. With him came the warm night air and his distinctly male scent. A prickle of awareness suddenly dotted her skin with goose bumps.
“No hog, Ms. Sanchez,” he told her. “Once it’s daylight, the department will have a closer inspection of your car. Of course, if we find anything, we’ll inform you.”
She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Actually, I’m glad you didn’t find the hog. I didn’t want to think I’d ended its life, even if it would have helped me avoid a ticket.”
He reached for the clipboard and the paper where he’d jotted down her license information. “Hog. Tailgater. Whatever. You were obviously driving way too fast, Ms. Sanchez. I’d say if you put any value on that neck of yours, you’d better slow down.”
Lucita clamped her lips together as she watched him scratch more comments across the bottom of a second set of documents. He was right, but that didn’t make it any easier to watch him write what looked to be a whole stack of driving tickets.
“What am I supposed to do if someone starts to harass me on the highway again?” she asked with a hint of sarcasm.
He looked up and Lucita couldn’t help but notice the way his dark brows met in the middle of his forehead, the way the corners of his chiseled lips turned faintly downward. The man even made frowning look sexy, she thought.
“You really are concerned about a stalker, aren’t you?”
She nodded. “It’s just a hunch, but enough of one to scare me.”
To her surprise he reached across the seat and gently touched her forearm in a reassuring way. “I wouldn’t borrow trouble, Ms. Sanchez. Unfortunately, lots of people encounter rude, reckless drivers on the highway, but that’s where it ends. I doubt you’ll have any more problems. Just be vigilant and drive safely.”
Under normal circumstances, Lucita would agree with him. But her past wasn’t exactly normal. Three years ago her ex-husband had stolen every penny of the inheritance her family had given her after she’d turned twenty-five. And so far the police hadn’t been able to locate his whereabouts. But she wasn’t about to get into that sordid story with this man. After all, Deputy McCleod considered this a traffic incident and nothing more. And perhaps it would be best to let him keep thinking that, Lucita decided. Especially when she hadn’t a lick of proof that the person who’d practically run her down on the highway was Derek Campbell or anyone connected to him. Besides, during their ten-year marriage he’d never once threatened to harm her in any way.
Yet for the past few weeks she hadn’t been able to shake the idea that her ex was somehow connected to the person who’d been shadowing her comings and goings.
Folding the lawman’s handkerchief into a tight square, Lucita pressed it back to the leaky wound on the side of her head. “You’re right, Deputy McCleod,” she said after a moment. “I need to quit worrying and be glad that my car was the only victim tonight.”
“Like I said earlier, you’re one fortunate lady,” he said in a low voice. “I guess you know that?”
“Yeah,” she said with feigned cheerfulness, “this is definitely my lucky night.” Straightening her back, she looked away from him and said, “If you’re finished writing up that report, I’m going to call my brother to come get me.”
“That won’t be necessary,” he said curtly. “I’m taking you home myself.”
Her head turned toward him. “What?”
“We’re not that far from the Sandbur,” he explained. “There’s no need to bother your family. Besides, I think I need to talk with them about this little accident.”
Lucita couldn’t help but stare at him and wonder at his motive. As far as she knew, it wasn’t the legal responsibility of the sheriff’s department to see that she got home safely. “Is that normal procedure?” she couldn’t help but ask.
His face stoic, he ripped her portion of the ticket from his clipboard and handed it over to her. She took the piece of paper and without a glance crammed it into her purse.
“There’s no need for you to concern yourself about my procedure, Ms. Sanchez. I