Colorado 01 The Gamble by Kristen Ashley Page A

SUV, jeans, heavy
flannel shirt, padded vest, cowboy boots, badge and gun on his
belt. He was average height, salt in his pepper hair, a bit of a
beer belly growing over his mammoth belt buckle but he still looked
fit. He gazed up at the A-Frame and then headed up the stairs.
    Max had the door open before he got there. I
stayed frozen on my stool watching this play out.
    “Mick,” Max greeted the man.
    “Max,” the man greeted back, walking in
through the open door.
    “What’s up?” Max asked.
    Mick’s eyes came to me and it was then too
slowly I realized I was in a little, pale pink nightgown.
    He looked back to Max apparently unsurprised
Max had a woman in a little, pale pink nightgown sitting at a stool
by his kitchen and he announced, “Something’s happened.”
    Max shut the door on the cold air,
straightened, planted his feet and crossed his arms on his chest
before he asked, “What?”
    Mick cleared his throat and his eyes came to
me.
    “That’s Nina Sheridan,” Max told him.
    “Hey there, Miss Sheridan,” Mick said to
me.
    I decided not to correct him about the
“Miss” and instead invited, “Please call me Nina.”
    “All right, Nina,” Mick returned with an
uncomfortable smile which made me, already ill at ease because of a
morning visit from a police officer, more so.
    “What’s up?” Max asked again and I wondered
if I should run upstairs, put on a cardigan, my robe, maybe some
jeans, a snowsuit (though, I didn’t have one of those).
    Mick walked further into the house in my
direction but turned back to Max.
    “Gotta ask you a few questions,” he said and
I decided not to go get dressed. The way he said that, I decided to
stay right where I was.
    “What questions?” Max asked, also walking in
but he came direct to me, positioning himself behind my stool so
close I could feel his warmth at my back.
    Mick took this as an invitation to come in
further and he did, stopping about three feet away.
    “Gotta know where you were last night around
two, three in the mornin’,” Mick said.
    I felt myself still and I stared at Mick
noting he was uncomfortable and not hiding it.
    “What’s this about?” Max asked and I could
tell by his voice he was not happy and also not hiding it.
    “Just answer, Max,” Mick said softly.
    “In bed,” Max said, his gravelly voice curt
and Mick’s eyes darted to me then back to Max.
    “Asleep?” he asked.
    “Yeah,” Max answered.
    “Sorry, Nina,” Mick’s gaze came back to me,
his eyes dropping to my nightgown for the barest of seconds before
coming back to my face and he continued. “Could you corroborate
that?”
    “What’s this about?” Max repeated.
    But at the same time I said quickly, “Yes, I
can.”
    “You sure?” Mick asked me.
    “Of course I’m sure,” I said firmly.
    “Were you asleep too?” Mick pressed and my
back straightened.
    “Mick,” Max was obviously losing patience,
“what the fuck’s this about?”
    But again I spoke quickly. “No, I wasn’t
asleep.” Mick opened his mouth to speak but I kept talking. “I’m
here from England, I’ve got jetlag. I woke up around two in the
morning, nine o’clock my time, and stayed awake until dawn. Max was
with me the whole time.”
    Mick’s face and body visibly relaxed, relief
washing through him and he nodded.
    “Now you wanna tell me what this is about?”
Max’s patience was gone, he sounded angry.
    Mick’s eyes moved to him. “Curtis Dodd was
killed early this mornin’.”
    I heard Max pull in breath and even though I
didn’t know who Curtis Dodd was, I felt my eyes get wide.
    “You’re shittin’ me,” Max said quietly.
    “Wish I was,” Mick replied.
    Then Max asked, “Murdered?”
    “Yep,” Mick answered.
    “ And you come to visit me?” Max didn’t
sound angry anymore, he just was . I
heard it and felt it.
    “Now Max, just procedure. Everyone knows you
don’t get along with Dodd.” Mick’s tone was placating.
    “Yeah, neither does most of the