but I wasn’t in uniform, so don’t beat yourself up about it.” He stood. “The sheriff was hoping you’d get here before his meeting. I’ll take you back to his office.”
“Thanks.” She followed him through a door and into the corridor beyond, Jonas close on her heels. He hadn’t said a word since they’d left the truck.
Not that she’d given him time.
She’d run like a coward, and she still wasn’t ready to meet his eyes.
What had she been thinking?
They were strangers, and his life was his business.
But he hadn’t felt like a stranger when he’d led her up the mesa or down into the desert. Hadn’t felt like one when he’d prodded her to keep going through one of the longest nights of her life, or when he’d handed her clothes to borrow, or covered her with an afghan after she’d fallen asleep at Rayne’s computer. He’d felt like someone who cared, and that made Skylar want to care, too.
And when she cared, she sometimes cared too much.
Which was another ailment that she couldn’t seem to cure herself of.
Deputy Williams knocked on the sheriff’s door, pushed it open and gestured for them to walk inside.
“Good to see you alive and kicking, Skylar.” A tall broad-shouldered man greeted them as they stepped into the room. Silver-haired, with steel gray eyes, Sheriff Rodger Smithson looked ready for battle, his uniform spotless, his boots polished. And despite the cordiality of his greeting, his eyes blazing.
Obviously, he wasn’t happy that she hadn’t left town when he’d told her to. In his opinion, a week of questioning the locals with no results was plenty.
Skylar hadn’t agreed.
Still didn’t.
“It’s good to be alive and kicking.”
“I bet. Go ahead and take a seat. I have a dinner meetingin twenty minutes, and I can’t miss it. We need to cover a lot before then.”
She perched on the edge of the chair, her leg so close to Jonas’s they were almost touching. She tried to ignore him, as she reached for a folder the sheriff slid across the desk. “What’s this?”
“All the evidence we’ve collected so far. It’s not much, but it’s a start.”
She opened the folder, frowning at the two photos that lay on the top of the printed pages.
Three separate photos of three different scenes. Close-ups of bullets that lay spent on the ground. “Were these found in close proximity to one another?”
“Three of them were. The fourth was about a half mile away.”
“It might not be related, then. I only remember three shots being fired.”
“How about you, Jonas? Do you remember more than three shots being fired?
“No.” He leaned in to look at the photos, his knee and arm pressing against Skylar’s, his warmth seeping through the layers of jean and jacket. It was distracting—and it shouldn’t have been. She spent a lot of time with men. Had plenty of guy friends from her days on the force that she still hung out with. She’d been hiking, climbing and camping with dozens of her buddies and she’d never been so aware, so completely and absolutely in tune with a man as she seemed to be with Jonas.
Every breath he took, she felt.
Every move, she noticed.
“One bullet is from my Glock. These other two look like they are from the pistol we took from one of the perps. Phoenix P.D. has it,” Jonas offered, and Sheriff Smithson nodded.
“It was found in the location where you indicated a gunhad been fired. We’re already doing ballistics testing on the gun. We’ll let you know when we have the results. We’ve also traced its serial number to a hunting store outside of Phoenix. It was reported stolen a couple months ago. Could have been in anyone’s hands.”
“What about the fourth bullet?”
“Like I said, it was found a half mile away. We have trackers trying to follow a trail out there, but with all the rain we got last night, it’s difficult.”
“They found the bullets. They may find something else.”
“Let’s hope so. We need more if
“Thanks.” She followed him through a door and into the corridor beyond, Jonas close on her heels. He hadn’t said a word since they’d left the truck.
Not that she’d given him time.
She’d run like a coward, and she still wasn’t ready to meet his eyes.
What had she been thinking?
They were strangers, and his life was his business.
But he hadn’t felt like a stranger when he’d led her up the mesa or down into the desert. Hadn’t felt like one when he’d prodded her to keep going through one of the longest nights of her life, or when he’d handed her clothes to borrow, or covered her with an afghan after she’d fallen asleep at Rayne’s computer. He’d felt like someone who cared, and that made Skylar want to care, too.
And when she cared, she sometimes cared too much.
Which was another ailment that she couldn’t seem to cure herself of.
Deputy Williams knocked on the sheriff’s door, pushed it open and gestured for them to walk inside.
“Good to see you alive and kicking, Skylar.” A tall broad-shouldered man greeted them as they stepped into the room. Silver-haired, with steel gray eyes, Sheriff Rodger Smithson looked ready for battle, his uniform spotless, his boots polished. And despite the cordiality of his greeting, his eyes blazing.
Obviously, he wasn’t happy that she hadn’t left town when he’d told her to. In his opinion, a week of questioning the locals with no results was plenty.
Skylar hadn’t agreed.
Still didn’t.
“It’s good to be alive and kicking.”
“I bet. Go ahead and take a seat. I have a dinner meetingin twenty minutes, and I can’t miss it. We need to cover a lot before then.”
She perched on the edge of the chair, her leg so close to Jonas’s they were almost touching. She tried to ignore him, as she reached for a folder the sheriff slid across the desk. “What’s this?”
“All the evidence we’ve collected so far. It’s not much, but it’s a start.”
She opened the folder, frowning at the two photos that lay on the top of the printed pages.
Three separate photos of three different scenes. Close-ups of bullets that lay spent on the ground. “Were these found in close proximity to one another?”
“Three of them were. The fourth was about a half mile away.”
“It might not be related, then. I only remember three shots being fired.”
“How about you, Jonas? Do you remember more than three shots being fired?
“No.” He leaned in to look at the photos, his knee and arm pressing against Skylar’s, his warmth seeping through the layers of jean and jacket. It was distracting—and it shouldn’t have been. She spent a lot of time with men. Had plenty of guy friends from her days on the force that she still hung out with. She’d been hiking, climbing and camping with dozens of her buddies and she’d never been so aware, so completely and absolutely in tune with a man as she seemed to be with Jonas.
Every breath he took, she felt.
Every move, she noticed.
“One bullet is from my Glock. These other two look like they are from the pistol we took from one of the perps. Phoenix P.D. has it,” Jonas offered, and Sheriff Smithson nodded.
“It was found in the location where you indicated a gunhad been fired. We’re already doing ballistics testing on the gun. We’ll let you know when we have the results. We’ve also traced its serial number to a hunting store outside of Phoenix. It was reported stolen a couple months ago. Could have been in anyone’s hands.”
“What about the fourth bullet?”
“Like I said, it was found a half mile away. We have trackers trying to follow a trail out there, but with all the rain we got last night, it’s difficult.”
“They found the bullets. They may find something else.”
“Let’s hope so. We need more if
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