tion id="u1925b10f-1724-5b50-8d0c-f53d03ea5f75">
Under the Sheriff’s Protection
Delores Fossen
Contents
Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
“The woman should be dead,” the doctor told Sheriff Rico Geary. “Don’t know how she made it out of the creek alive. Another minute in that water, and she would have frozen to death.” Rico heard every word the doc said, but he was multitasking. He had his phone pressed to his ear, waiting for an update from his deputy about the bodies they’d discovered at the same time as the woman. Murdered. And in his town. That put a tight knot in his gut. Maverick Springs was known for its cowboys, livestock and small-town living. Folks weren’t used to dealing with a double homicide. Neither was Rico. Yeah, he’d been sheriff for almost two years, since he’d moved here, and he’d dealt with some fatal car accidents. Nothing like this, though. Two strangers with no IDs. Both gunned down on the bridge by the old slaughterhouse. “The woman has a head injury,” Dr. Cheryl Landry continued as she led Rico through the maze of hospital halls. “It’s not that serious, but I’m not sure how much info you’ll get from her.” Rico had to get a lot from her. The rancher who’d fished her out of the ice-scabbed creek hadn’t even glimpsed her attacker when he’d responded to the woman’s cries for help. So she was probably the sole witness to the murders. Which meant it was pretty darn certain that it had been the killer who’d bashed her on the head and dumped her in the creek. “Has she said anything?” Rico asked the doctor. “Not really. Well, other than asking for you.” Rico froze for a moment. “Me? She knows me?” “Apparently. She mumbled your name several times while coming in and out of consciousness.” That didn’t mean she knew him. His name was on the town’s welcome sign. Rico’s deputy, Randy Wells, suddenly came back on the line, and Rico pressed his phone to his ear again. “The ME’s moving the bodies to the morgue now,” the deputy reported, “but he said those gunshot wounds to their heads were the cause of death.” Rico had never doubted that. He’d seen the bodies before heading to the hospital to interview their possible witness. The couple had been killed at point-blank range. Close enough for the victims to have looked their killer straight in the eyes. What Rico needed from the witness now were the names of the victims, why they’d been killed here in Maverick Springs and who the hell had killed them. “Run their prints,” Rico reminded the deputy. Because in addition to the investigation, he had to notify their next of kin. “What’s this woman’s name?” Rico asked the doctor, putting his phone back in his jeans pocket. Dr. Landry stopped outside a room, and her weary eyes met Rico’s. “She doesn’t remember.” His jaw went slack. “What do you mean she doesn’t remember?” “Like I said, she has head injuries. A blow to the head can cause memory loss.” That was not what he wanted to hear. He huffed, put his hand on his hips. “How long will she be like this?” The doc shrugged. “Hard to tell. Plus, if she witnessed the murders, then she’s probably traumatized. Some people don’t want to hold onto memories like that.” “Well, she sure as heck better hold on to these memories. I got two dead bodies on my hands.” “I know,” Dr. Landry snapped. Then her expression softened a little. “Just go easy on her.” Rico didn’t agree to the doc’s conditions. He couldn’t. He needed answers. Now. He stepped into the room, and since the doc was a good foot shorter than him, he had no trouble seeing over her head. His attention landed on the woman in the hospital bed. She was on her side so he couldn’t make out much of her face, but he could see her dark blond hair, still wet from the creek. She was as pale as skim milk and on the thin side, judging from the outline of her body beneath the covers. The woman stirred, groaning softly, and she touched her fingers to the bandage on the side of her head. Her eyes sprang open, and her gaze zoomed across the room, colliding with Rico’s.
Ah, hell.
The knot in his gut got significantly worse. “Gina?” he mumbled. “You know her?” Dr. Landry immediately asked. “Yeah. I know her,” Rico managed to say. Though it was hard to speak through clenched teeth. “She’s my wife.”
Wife.
The way Rico had said that made her seem like some kind of disease. Gina couldn’t blame him. It’d been four years since he’d last seen her, and they hadn’t exactly parted on friendly terms. What confused her, though, was why he’d called her his wife. They’d divorced ages ago. The doctor closed the door and walked closer to her. But not Rico. He stayed back, glaring at her with those storm-gray eyes from beneath the brim of his black Stetson. He hadn’t changed much in the past four years. Same lanky build. Same midnight-colored hair. Same cowboy clothes. Except he wasn’t just a cowboy these days. That badge pinned to his jeans meant he was sheriff of Maverick Springs. And that meant her situation had just gone from god-awful to downright impossible. Too bad she had to deal with impossible right now. Her head was throbbing like a toothache, and she couldn’t think through all the pain. “Gina?” Dr. Landry looked back at Rico, her expression asking him for
