Cain's Law (Cowboys on the Edge Book 3) Read online

  “First a call from the chief, now the station?” Sherry Thacker, the fire chief’s wife, didn’t bother prefacing her statement with a hello.

  “You already leave for the cabin fire?”

  “Still at City Hall, waiting on doughnuts and cookies. Why?”

  “The girl we pulled from the house. She needs clothes and shoes.”

  There was silence, followed by, “Poor thing. Anyone similar in size you can think of?”

  Cain cringed then rasped, “My ex.”

  “Well, she’s long gone,” she drawled. “But I know someone. Give me a few.”

  She hung up without another word, and Cain stared at the receiver before hanging it up. He was glad she belonged to Blake. Sherry was a pushy woman. And quick to anger. The whole town had walked on eggshells the months she and Blake had been separated. And all over a reporter who’d been more interested in the mayor than she had been the fire chief.

  Cain shook his head. Women were a mystery.

  “I got ’er done,” Rita said beside him. “She’s clean. Not even a parking ticket.”

  Relief rushed through him. Completely out of proportion with the situation. The woman might not have any arrests, but she ran in a dangerous crowd. “Thanks,” he said, pushing up from the chair. He tapped the bankroll. “I’ll need you to count this, and then make a list of the numbers on each bill to turn over to the FBI. Send the mayor on back when she gets here.”

  Rita’s eyebrows shot up, but she didn’t say a word as she took her seat in front of the dispatcher’s desk. Rita had worked the night shift for years. A widow without kids, she considered the sheriff and the deputies her boys. “Now, don’t be fallin’ for those puppy dog eyes…”

  Cain grunted and felt his cheeks begin to redden. He strode to Deputy Roman Perez, who stood to the side of one of the front windows, staring through the narrow space between the frame and the blinds.

  At Cain’s approach, he straightened away. “It’s quiet. Really think he’d try to storm the station?”

  “I don’t.” Cain shook his head. “But he’s not wrapped too tight. He tried to muscle a cop off the road.”

  “What’s her story?” he asked, pointing his chin toward the corridor where Carina waited in interrogation.

  “Ms. Black was his girlfriend. She left him after relieving him of a big wad of cash.” He didn’t want to talk about her anymore. Certainly didn’t want to relate the parts of her story he was still churning over. “I’m doing a search on her boyfriend. You keep a sharp eye.”

  His lips twitched. “Yes, boss.”

  As he walked away, Cain shook his head. He wasn’t muscling for Josh’s job. He could keep it. Cain preferred patrolling. Liked being on his own in his car, keeping the peace and to himself.

  He took a seat at a desk with a view to the front of the station, typed a quick transcript of his interview, and shot it via email to the sheriff. After he’d completed a search on Joey Guiducci, he leaned back, a knot settling hard in his gut. Little Carina Black sure could pick ’em. Several arrests for assault. A person of interest in at least one homicide. Known connections to a crime family whose reach stretched down the east coast to Florida. Despite his run-ins with the law, the man had never served a day of jail time. Witnesses either disappeared or recanted their stories.

  His thoughts turned to the woman sitting alone in the interrogation room, and he knew without a doubt she wore a target on her back that would never expire. He glanced up as Sherry Thacker walked through the entrance, a large department store bag in one hand, a box of doughnuts in the other.

  She gave him a smile and deposited the box on the dispatcher’s desk, then headed straight for him. “Found some things that might do. Had Kelly go through the racks at the thrift shop.” She held up the bag. “Included a couple of pairs of shoes, too. Hope one of them fits.”

  Cain gave her a nod. “Thanks. She won’t be choosy.”

  “Heard the poor thing crawled out of her bedroom window. Lost everything but her car.”

  He took the bag.

  She aimed another smile at him. “Better head out to the fire. Kelly’s in the car with the food. Deputy Perez is out there, making sure she’s safe. Really think someone might try to get to her in the police station?”

  Cain knew the grapevine was already in full whirl. Not that Sherry was a gossip, but the fact she already knew as much as she did only verified the fact folks in town were talking. “I don’t think he’s stupid enough to come in guns blazing, but having folks keep their doors locked wouldn’t hurt. Report any sightings of strangers.”

  Sherry nodded. “I’ll have Kelly start her telephone tree. Maybe get Ole Red Dalton to put out a broadcast on his illegal radio station.”

  Cain grunted. “Sounds like a plan. And thanks again, Ms. Thacker.”

  She flashed a grin. “Sherry. I keep telling you that.”

  “Sherry.”

  After she left, he picked up the sack.

  “Want me to take Carina Black to the ladies’ room to change?” Rita asked from her desk.

  Taking Rita up on her offer would sure be easier, but he shook his head. “I’ve got this.” He paused beside her desk to hand over the report he’d pulled on Carina’s boyfriend. “Make sure an APB goes out on this guy. For him, and the Viper he’s driving.”

  When he reentered the room, he found Carina sleeping in her chair, one side of her face pressed to the table. Cain stood still for a few moments, barely breathing as he watched her. From the report Rita pulled from the Illinois DMV, he knew she was young. Just twenty-two. And from her own words, she’d been with Joey Guiducci for two years. Young enough he knew better than to get involved. But he thought maybe his fate was already sealed.

  At last, he let go of his doubts. Deep inside, he’d known she was innocent. Knew she needed help. Protection. Something he could give. Something that, right now, he wanted to give. All those years ago, he hadn’t been there to save his sister when she’d been swept away during a flash flood. And he still carried that guilt even thought he’d been just a kid. His guilt had led him by the balls through several terrible relationships. The last being his marriage to Susan. Only, she hadn’t needed protection. She’d played him, using her big brown eyes to sucker him while she’d cheated with her previous boyfriend—who, as it turned out, hadn’t been the abuser his ex claimed.

  Carina was different. Scared, but still a fighter. And exhausted. How sad was it that in this place she likely felt the safest she had in days? He placed the bag on the table, letting it thud.

  She stirred, jerking backward, her eyes widening until she saw him. Her gaze went to his hair, and then the badge on his shirt. She turned her head and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth.

  Was she afraid she’d drooled? A smile tugged at his mouth, but he didn’t let it slide free. “I’ll show you the ladies’ room. A friend brought you a change of clothes. Shoes, too. You can get cleaned up.” Could his voice have been any rougher? The last thing he wanted to do was make her fear him.

  Pushing against the table, she stood and peered into the bag. “Nice. I hope they fit. Is your friend still here?” she asked. “I’d like to thank her.”

  “She’s gone on to the fire.”

  A light blush stole across her pale cheeks. “I don’t suppose things like this happen often here, huh?”

  “Fires happen all the time.”

  Her gaze narrowed just a tad. “I’ll bet arsons don’t.”

  “You’re right, there.”

  She tilted her head higher. “And when’s the last time someone tried to run you off the road?”

  One side of his mouth curved upward. “When I was sixteen and my girlfriend’s dad caught us making out in his barn.”

  She laughed, and her smile stretched her mouth, revealing pretty white teeth, the only flaw one tooth that wasn’t flush with the rest on the bottom row.

  He felt happier once he realized she wasn’t perfect. He waved a hand toward the doo
r. “After you.”

  Carina stood in front of the mirror over the sink and turned to check out the fit of her new jeans from the rear. They were a little snug. She squatted and rocked side to side, then rose again. She didn’t want to look like a bimbo when she left the bathroom. The V-neck tee wasn’t tight, but she hadn’t wanted to wear the bra she’d worn for days, and the one the deputy’s girlfriend had brought was two cup-sizes too small.

  She’d used paper towels and hand soap to wash her body. The little travel-sized shampoo she’d found at the bottom of the bag was now empty, and her wet hair straggled around her head, but it was clean. And brushed. She wondered how often Deputy Whitfield called his friend to bring strange women these necessities.

  After tossing her old clothing in the trash and putting the rest of the items she’d used in the shopping bag, she ran out of excuses to keep hiding in the bathroom. Cain Whitfield had been kind, even if he was a little blunt, but he still intimidated her.

  Too tall, too good-looking, blonde and big-shouldered—with the chilliest blue gaze she’d ever seen. One hard glance from those laser-blue eyes, and she’d done exactly what she’d feared. She’d spilled everything. Including the cringe-worthy story of what Joey had done to her that night. How could she face the handsome deputy now?

  A light rap sounded on the door.

  She drew a deep breath. He wouldn’t wait forever. “Coming,” she called out. She looked like a drowned rat, but at least she didn’t look pathetic anymore. Too bad his girlfriend hadn’t included a little lipstick, too. Something to brighten her features. She needed a boost of confidence.

  Carina entered the hallway, and the deputy straightened away from the opposite wall, his gaze giving her a quick once-over. She couldn’t help wondering if he found her the least bit attractive. She’d always taken her beauty for granted—but she’d never been caught without her face done or her hair perfectly styled. At least, the clothing she now wore fit.

  “The shoes work for you?” he asked, his gaze traveling downward.

  She glanced down toward the canvas slip-ons that hadn’t shown much wear. “They’re fine. Not even snug in the toes.” She glanced upward, feeling shy. “Thanks.”

  His mouth tightened. “Save your thanks for the mayor.”

  Carina thinned her mouth, too. “Of course. And your girlfriend.”

  His eyebrows drew together. “Sheriff’s back.”

  She swallowed. “What happens now?”

  “Suppose it depends on what the fire chief told him.”

  Her mouth tightened. “I didn’t set that fire.”

  He waved a hand toward the front of the station. “After you.”

  Carina’s steps dragged. The sound of voices, several, echoed down the hallway. When she entered the larger room, she noted the sheriff, a large man still dressed in a firefighter’s turn-out gear, and several others she hadn’t seen at the fire, but whose gazes all turned toward her.

  She drew to a halt.

  A large hand settled at the small of her back and pushed her gently forward. “They just have a few questions,” the deputy said quietly.

  “All of them?” she asked under her breath, although whispering was a waste of time. Everyone listened to her hushed conversation with the deputy.

  Deputy Whitfield cleared his throat. “Gentlemen, this is Carina Black.”

  The men formed a half-circle, and one by one, they introduced themselves. Two were arson investigators, one a Texas Ranger out of Austin. The sheriff tipped his hat.

  The fireman gave her a frown as he introduced himself. “Blake Thacker, fire chief here in Caldera. Seems you made a lucky escape.”

  She wished the floor would open up and swallow her. “Yeah, that’s me. Lucky.”

  The deputy grunted beside her.

  Was he laughing? She aimed a glare over her shoulder, but his stern face gave away nothing of his thoughts.

  “We’ve all reviewed the statement you gave Cain,” the sheriff said. “Anything else you can tell us that might help us find Joey Guiducci?”

  She shook her head. “He’s not from around here. How hard should it be to find a guy driving a Viper—one who’s not wearing a cowboy hat?” She realized she was being snarky and clamped her mouth closed. “Sorry. Must be nerves.”

  The hand at her back gave her a tap.

  She stiffened. The touch almost felt like a spank.

  “Do you have any reason to believe he might not be alone?” the sheriff asked.

  Carina chewed her bottom lip. “He’s operating pretty far from home. And he’d hate for anyone to know I left him like that—plus taking his stash. If he brought anyone else with him, I’d be surprised. I’m not important. Not to anyone but him.”

  The men shared glances among themselves. One of the arson investigators turned his gaze to the sheriff. “We might need to revisit once we’ve had a chance to walk through the cabin.”

  “She’s not goin’ anywhere.” The sheriff raised an eyebrow and nailed her with a steady glare. “Are you?”

  “I guess not.” They had her car. She didn’t have a license, a phone, her clothes were borrowed, her money was in their safe… Nope, she was stuck here. “I can’t go anywhere. He took my money,” she said, hooking her thumb toward the deputy.

  “Caldera doesn’t have safe houses,” the sheriff drawled. His gaze slid to the deputy. “What about that house you’ve been renovating?”

  The hand at her back fell away. “It’s barely livable.”

  “Got electric? Water?”

  She didn’t need to look behind her to know he’d nodded.

  The sheriff was smiling. “I’ll make sure a deputy drives by regular-like. But you’ve got yourself some time off, Cain. Keep her under wraps. Can you handle that?”

  She heard a loud, drawn-out sigh.

  “Guess I’ll have to.”

  The men from Caldera all shared grins.

  What the hell they thought was so damn funny, she couldn’t even begin to guess. But she didn’t care. Cain Whitfield, with his broad shoulders and icy blue stare, would be keeping her safe. And since he’d managed to keep her alive this long, she was relieved by how things had worked out.

  Cain stepped to her side. “He might be watching for her to leave the station.”

  The sheriff pursed his lips. “Still got those ugly clothes you arrived in?”

  Narrowing her gaze, Carina frowned. “Wouldn’t you feel like crap if they were really mine?”

  The sheriff arched a brow.

  Carina huffed. “I put them in the trash can.

  “Well, go get ’em.” The sheriff looked beyond Carina and the deputy. “Hey, Rita.”

  “Ooh-wee! Do I get to be bait?” the older woman said with more than a hint of glee in her voice.

  He gave her a wink. “You do, ma’am. Perez’ll give you a lift in his squad car to your house. We’ll put a blanket over your head.” He fished in his pocket and brought out keys, which he tossed at the deputy. “That’s for the old Coronado out back. Five minutes after Perez leaves, you head out with the girl.”

  I’m not a girl, and I’m right here, Sheriff! Carina knew she’d have a canker sore from the number of times she’d bitten her lip to keep from commenting.

  “We’ll keep you safe, Ms. Black,” the sheriff said. Then he turned to the men in the group and indicated that they follow him. They strode past her and headed down the hallway. A door closed in the distance.

  “I’ll go get those clothes.”

  “No need,” Rita called out. “Have to change in the bathroom, anyway. I’ll fetch ’em from the trash.”

  Alone with the deputy, Carina turned and glanced upward. “I’m a lot of trouble.”

  “You are.”

  She nearly winced at how quickly he agreed. “Last thing you want is to babysit me. Give me back my money, and I’ll be gone.”

  “Can’t do that, ma’am.”

  Ma’am. She couldn’t recall anyone but a high school kid at a g
as station ever calling her ma’am. She liked the way it sounded in his smooth baritone. She thought she might like to hear him say more words. Ones not spit like bullets. She glanced away. “I won’t cause you any more trouble.”

  “Can’t help you were born that way.”

  Carina narrowed her eyes as she returned his steady stare, not sure whether he’d insulted her or was cracking a joke. Hell, she wasn’t sure which made her hotter.

  Chapter Four

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  Cain pulled the sheriff’s Coronado into the garage—the only finished part of this renovation project. He’d started renovations on the old house the week after Susan left. She hadn’t been game to live in it while he pulled down the walls around them. Once she’d done him the favor of emptying his home of furniture, he’d gotten right to work, beginning with the garage. He’d worked on it first, because this was where he’d placed his tools and saws, and where he did most of the carpentry work required. Which meant he had to be careful when the garage door lowered. The back of the Coronado barely fit inside.

  When the door finished closing, he turned in his seat to Carina, whose gaze flitted around the garage. “It’s a bit of a mess.”

  “Looks like you spend a lot of time in here.”

  “The house isn’t much better,” he warned, anxious to see her reaction.

  She gave him a small smile. “I hate that I’m putting you out.”

  “Don’t.” He didn’t stop the impulse that had him reaching to cup her chin and turn her face toward him. “I’ll keep you safe. Once we’re inside, I’ll show you around and establish a few ground rules. Ready?”

  She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and gave a little nod.

  He opened his door. She did the same. They wove their way through his equipment, over the power cords, up the stairs into the mudroom. Or what would be the mudroom. He’d torn out all the old drywall. Only the bare wooden frame and the slats of the siding were visible.

  He held her arm to help her circle the large hole in the floor that opened into the crawlspace beneath the house. Tomorrow, he’d have to cover it with a sheet of plywood so she wouldn’t fall through.