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Lawman With A Cause
Delores Fossen
Her life depends on his protectionSheriff Egan McCall hasn’t forgiven Jordan Gentry for her role in the death of his fiancée.But when Jordan is attacked, his priority is stopping a murderer and safeguarding a target. If only he could also ignore the sizzling attraction between them…


Her life depends on his protection
His heart depends on her survival
Sheriff Egan McCall hasn’t forgiven Jordan Gentry for her role in the death of his fiancée. But when Jordan is attacked, Egan comes to her rescue and discovers a serial killer is targeting recipients of his late fiancée’s organs. Then Egan’s protective instincts—and long-buried feelings—kick in. Wearing a badge means his priority is stopping a murderer and safeguarding a target. If only he could also ignore the sizzling attraction between them...
DELORES FOSSEN, a USA TODAY bestselling author, has sold over seventy-five novels, with millions of copies of her books in print worldwide. She’s received a Booksellers’ Best Award and an RT Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award. She was also a finalist for a prestigious RITA® Award. You can contact the author through her website at www.deloresfossen.com (http://www.deloresfossen.com).
Also by Delores Fossen (#u63aa0199-9f5c-5468-9d6c-cd9434fbfaf7)
Cowboy Above the Law
Finger on the Trigger
Always a Lawman
Gunfire on the Ranch
Lawman from Her Past
Roughshod Justice
Grayson
Dade
Nate
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Lawman with a Cause
Delores Fossen


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-09347-7
LAWMAN WITH A CAUSE
© 2018 Delores Fossen
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Contents
Cover (#u74944d21-7ac8-5047-a514-a006b4aeb73b)
Back Cover Text (#uc3729a2d-6828-553a-8dc0-1b96c49e7da9)
About the Author (#u63423e9b-df6e-5359-ba06-70ad7e616f46)
Booklist (#u7cbe4c51-5145-5ee0-a3ae-c53983b02fb9)
Title Page (#ub07e1162-4155-586e-a1b9-25078a51586e)
Copyright (#u3a341900-20db-5642-a76d-ad4680050ba6)
Chapter One (#u511005b0-e568-5cfc-9279-aacc412050db)
Chapter Two (#u896e069c-a048-5a99-9baf-d492bdaa8204)
Chapter Three (#u0b204fc1-4660-5edf-947a-faf6f44d7804)
Chapter Four (#u374b711b-4207-5c1b-a69c-0153381a8254)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#u63aa0199-9f5c-5468-9d6c-cd9434fbfaf7)
The moment he took the turn to his ranch, Sheriff Egan McCall spotted the emergency lights flashing on the vehicle just ahead. He groaned. Then he cursed.
Even in the darkness, he recognized the old white truck. It was parked on the shoulder of the narrow country road, and the driver was definitely someone he didn’t want to see tonight. Or any other night for that matter.
Jordan Gentry.
Egan had only wanted to get home and get some sleep since he’d just pulled a twelve-hour shift and was bone tired. But sleeping anytime soon likely wasn’t going to happen if he had to deal with Jordan first.
What the heck was she doing out here anyway?
The only place on this road was the McCall Ranch, which meant Jordan had probably been going there to see him. That couldn’t be right, though. Jordan hadn’t spoken a word to him in two years, and Egan wanted it to stay that way.
He pulled to a stop behind her truck and dragged in a deep breath that he hoped would steel him up. He hated, too, that steeling up was even required when it came to Jordan. Once, she’d been his high school sweetheart, but that felt like a lifetime ago. Now she was just part of the nightmarish memories that he still hadn’t figured out a way to forget.
Egan got out, walking on the gravel shoulder to the driver’s side. Since the engine wasn’t running, he looked inside, expecting to see Jordan behind the wheel ready to complain about not being able to get her truck started. But both the headlights and emergency lights were on, so this couldn’t be about a dead battery. Maybe she was having engine trouble.
Jordan wasn’t there, though, in the cab of the truck. No one was. But Egan spotted something he definitely hadn’t wanted to see.
Blood.
It was on the seat. So were chunks of safety glass. The passenger-side window was completely shattered.
Egan turned around so he could see if Jordan was nearby. Maybe she’d tried to avoid running into an animal or something and had hit her head. Of course, that didn’t explain the broken window.
“Jordan?” he called out.
No response. There were deep ditches next to her truck and a fence just beyond that. But Egan didn’t see her.
He took out his phone, using it as a flashlight, and spotted more blood on the ground. Not a huge amount, but even a few drops were enough to concern him. He needed to call for an ambulance.
However, the sound stopped him from doing that.
It was a soft rustling noise at the front end of the truck. Egan drew his gun, and he stepped closer.
Jordan.
She was sitting on the ground, her back against the front fender of her truck, and she had her gun gripped in her right hand, her phone in her left. She turned, and thanks to the truck headlights, he had no trouble seeing the source of the blood. It was on the top of her shoulder, just to the side of her blond hair, and it was running down the sleeve of her shirt.
“Are you here to finish me off?” she asked.
Obviously, she was dazed and didn’t know what she was saying. Egan made that call to get an ambulance out there.
“What happened?” He went closer, peeling off his own shirt so he could wipe away some of the blood and see just how badly she was hurt.
“You” was all she said. She laughed. It was hoarse and weak, and it definitely wasn’t from humor. “I knew you hated me, but I never thought in a million years you’d try to kill me.”
Yeah, she was definitely talking crazy. Egan had a look at her wound and saw the gash on her shoulder. He eased her hair aside so he could see if there were other injuries, and she also had a bump on her head. She’d need stitches and might even have a concussion.
“What happened?” Egan repeated.
“You tried to kill me,” she said without hesitation.
Even though Jordan was hurt, it was still hard to keep the scowl off his face. He tapped his sheriff’s badge in case she’d forgotten that he was the law around here and not prone to murder attempts. “And why would I do that?”
There were tears in her pale green eyes when Jordan looked up at him. “Shanna.”
Everything inside Egan went still.
Shanna Sullivan. His late fiancée. Shanna was also the reason Jordan was no longer someone he wanted to see. Even now after nearly two years, he still felt the ache. It ate away at him, and sometimes, like now, the ache felt just as fresh as it had when Shanna had died less than an hour after a man had shot her.
He leaned in, sniffed Jordan’s breath to make sure she hadn’t been drinking. She hadn’t been. “Focus,” he demanded. “I didn’t try to kill you and neither did Shanna. She’s dead. So, what the hell happened here?”
She touched her fingers to her head and looked at the blood that was on the sleeve of her shirt. “I...uh, was driving to your place to talk to you, and someone started to pass me. At least I thought that’s what he was doing, but then he shot me. Someone driving a blue pickup identical to yours.”
Egan pulled back his shoulders. He hoped like the devil that none of that was true. He definitely didn’t want someone firing shots into a vehicle. Especially someone who might be posing as him. But then he reminded himself that Jordan hadn’t made much sense with anything else she’d said.
He had another look at that gash on her shoulder. It was possibly a deep graze from a bullet. Possibly. But it could have also happened if she’d hit her head and shoulder on the steering wheel. Of course, her accusation would mesh with the broken window. Not with anything else, though.
“After he shot me, my truck stalled. I couldn’t get it started,” she continued a moment later. “So, I got out to try to fix it. That’s when I passed out and landed here on the ground.”
Egan didn’t bother to tell her it’d been stupid to try to do engine repairs while injured. “You should have called nine-one-one.”
Despite being dazed, she managed to give him a flat look. “Right. Call the local cops when I thought it was a local cop who shot me. I called someone from San Antonio PD instead.”
He supposed that wasn’t really a surprise about her not wanting to alert the locals. After all, Jordan lived in San Antonio, where she’d once been a cop. She almost certainly still had friends on the force there. But it was a long drive, nearly an hour, from San Antonio to McCall Canyon, and it’d likely be a while before her friend made it out here.
“And your cop friend in San Antonio didn’t convince you to call me?” Egan asked.
“No.” Again, she didn’t hesitate. “Not after everything that’s happened.”
She was talking about Shanna now. Specifically, Shanna’s murder. But Egan had no intention of getting into that with Jordan tonight.
“Come on,” he said, helping her to her feet. In case she was still thinking he would try to kill her, he took her gun and put it in the back waistband of his jeans. “We can wait in my truck until the ambulance gets here.” Which should be in about only twenty minutes or so.
If Jordan was right about having been shot, Egan didn’t want them to be out in the open in case the shooter returned. Of course, he doubted that would happen. The bullet—if it was indeed a bullet—had probably come from someone out hunting.
“Hold my shirt against your shoulder to slow down the bleeding,” Egan instructed.
Jordan went stiff when he tried to get her moving, and she looked at him as if debating if she could trust him.
Egan cursed again. “I don’t know what you think happened here, but I didn’t shoot you. I have no reason to kill you.”
“Yes, you do.” She lifted the side of her top to show him something he didn’t need to see. The scar. The one from her surgery two years ago.
“So?” he snapped. “Did you think I’d forgotten you had a kidney transplant?” It wasn’t a question because there was no way he could have not remembered that. After all, the donor kidney had come from Shanna.
Hell. More memories came. Jordan had been shot that day, too. The bullet had gone through her side and damaged both her kidneys. It’d been somewhat of a miracle that Shanna had been a match. Of course, that miracle came with a huge price tag since Shanna was dead.
“No. I didn’t think you’d forgotten at all.” She swallowed hard. “In fact, that’s why I thought you wanted me dead.”
“You’re not making sense.” He hooked his arm around her waist and forced her to get moving again.
He helped her into his truck, and she winced when she pressed his shirt against her head. Egan considered just driving her to the hospital, but the ambulance could arrive soon, and he could hand her off to the medics while staying behind to have a look at her vehicle. Specifically, that window. He wanted to see if the damage had indeed been caused by a bullet, and if so, then he could call out a CSI team.
“Yes, I am making sense,” Jordan snarled. “Two of the recipients are already dead, and I think I’m next.”
“Recipients?” he questioned.
She looked up at him. “You hadn’t heard?”
No. But Egan was 1,000 percent sure he wasn’t going to like what Jordan was about to say next.
“Breanna Culver, who got Shanna’s liver. Cordell Minter, who got one of her lungs. They’re both dead. Murdered.” Jordan’s last word didn’t have much sound. It was mostly breath.
Hell. If that was true...well, Egan didn’t want to go there just yet. “It could be a coincidence.” Though it would be an eerie one. “You’re positive they were murdered?” he challenged.
Jordan’s forehead bunched up. “Yes. Their organs were...missing. The organs they got from Shanna.”
Egan felt as if someone had punched him. “If that’s true, why didn’t someone tell me?”
“Because I only made the connection today. I knew the names of the recipients. I got them because, well, I don’t know why exactly. Maybe I wanted to know who else was alive because of Shanna. I thought it would give me some peace.”
Egan’s mind was reeling, but he wanted to tell her that she didn’t deserve peace. Neither of them did. “You’re positive about those two people? Positive they were murdered and their organs taken?”
She nodded and motioned to her head. “And now this. Someone shot me.”
No way could he just accept all of this just yet. “Your injury could have been a prank gone wrong. Or a hunter. It could have even been caused by a rock going through the window. A rock that maybe a passing truck kicked up from the road.”
Her expression let him know she wasn’t buying any of this. “What about the break-in at my house?”
He was clueless about that, too, but then he hadn’t kept up with Jordan.
“I was supposed to be home,” she continued. “But I’d left only about five minutes before to go into San Antonio to meet one of my old criminal informants. I wanted to ask him about the other two deaths. Anyway, while I was gone, someone broke in and set fire to the place.”
Again, that didn’t mean anyone was trying to murder her—though the “coincidences” were stacking up.
“That means there are only three of us left,” Jordan added a moment later. “Tori Judd, Irene Adair. And me.”
Egan hadn’t known the names of the people who’d gotten Shanna’s organs. He hadn’t wanted to know. But was it possible someone was going after these people. And if so, why?
One name instantly came to mind. Drew Paxton.
The man who’d put a lethal bullet in Shanna. A bullet that Drew had fired during a botched hostage situation that had killed Shanna.
“Drew Paxton is in jail on death row,” Egan heard himself mumble.
Jordan made a sound of agreement even though Egan hadn’t been talking to her. “And he hasn’t had any unusual visitors. You know, the kind of visitors he could have hired to kill people.”
Egan was well aware of that because while he hadn’t kept tabs on Jordan, he had done just that with Drew. It wasn’t a morbid curiosity, either. Shanna had been Drew’s parole officer, and the snake had developed a fixation on her. So much so that he’d broken into Shanna’s house in San Antonio and taken her hostage.
Jordan had been one of the responding officers. A hostage negotiator. And she’d failed big-time. So had Egan. Because he hadn’t been able to save Shanna, and he’d lost the woman he loved.
“I ruled out Drew because all of his calls and correspondence are carefully monitored,” Jordan said a moment later. “And that’s why I thought you might be doing this. I thought maybe you’d snapped or something.”
Egan had come close to doing just that, but even if he had snapped, he wouldn’t have gone after the people who’d gotten Shanna’s organs. He would have gone after Drew.
And maybe Jordan.
But he hadn’t snapped. And wouldn’t. However, there were a couple of things that didn’t fit here.
“If you thought I’d gone crazy, why were you heading out to the ranch?” Egan asked. “Weren’t you afraid I’d gun you down once you got there?” Egan didn’t bother to take the sarcasm out of his voice.
“I was going to see your brother, Court. I called dispatch, and they said you were still at work so I thought I could talk to Court alone.”
Court was at the ranch all right, and his brother was not only a deputy sheriff, he would have also been more open to having a conversation with Jordan. Court probably didn’t have the raw nerves that Egan still had about Shanna’s death. Plus, Court and Jordan had been friends once, too.
“Look, I dismissed all of this at first,” Jordan continued. “I’m a private investigator these days, and I know how to look at things objectively. Most things anyway,” she added in a mumble.
Egan figured that was meant for him. Maybe Jordan hadn’t been able to get past the hurt and emotions of Shanna’s death, either, and that was why she’d thought Egan might be a killer.
“Have you been keeping an eye on Drew’s brother, Kirk?” Egan asked.
Jordan nodded. Then, hesitated. “Well, as much as I can. He’s a cattle broker, and he travels a lot. And yeah, he’s still riled that his brother is on death row. He could be willing to play into Drew’s sick fantasies of making sure every part of Shanna is dead.”
Definitely a sick fantasy. And riled was putting it mildly for the way Kirk felt about his brother. Kirk thought Egan had provoked Drew into that hostage standoff. Kirk wasn’t exactly specific about how Egan had managed to do that, but he blamed Egan for the situation. Maybe Kirk had decided to spread the blame around now and include Jordan. And those other recipients.
Still...
“What’s the name and number of the SAPD officer who investigated the break-in and fire at your house?” he asked.
She paused several moments as if she might not tell him. That whole lack-of-trusting-him thing might be playing into this, but Jordan finally handed him her phone. “It’s Christian Abrams. He’s not the cop I contacted to come out here, but his number is in my recent calls.”
It was. In fact, Jordan had called the man three times in the past two hours. And there were six missed calls from Christian to Jordan. It did make Egan wonder, though, why she hadn’t phoned this guy after she had gotten injured. Or taken any of those six calls.
While Egan kept watch for the ambulance, he pressed Christian’s number, and he answered right away. “Where the hell are you, Jordan?” the cop snarled.
“I’m not Jordan. I’m Egan McCall.”
“The sheriff over in McCall Canyon,” Christian said after a short pause, and Egan didn’t think it was his imagination there was some venom in the man’s tone. “Jordan went to you after all. I told her that wasn’t a good idea.”
Egan skipped right over that and went to the reason he’d wanted to speak to the man. “Is someone trying to kill Jordan?”
Christian certainly didn’t jump to answer that. “Is she there with you? Can she hear this?”
The answer to both of those was yes. Egan hadn’t put the call on speaker, but the cop’s voice was carrying in the truck. Jordan would almost certainly be able to hear him. But that wasn’t what Egan said because he didn’t want this guy clamming up.
“She can’t hear us,” Egan lied.
“Good. Because I don’t want to alienate her. Jordan needs friends right now. The right friends.”
Again, judging from the tone, Christian didn’t think Egan fell into that category. “Did someone really break into her house and try to kill her?” Egan pressed.
“Yes, but Jordan has this notion—no, it’s an obsession now—with connecting anything that’s happening to her friend’s murder. Did she tell you that she thinks someone is killing organ recipients?”
“She mentioned it.”
“Well, I don’t think it’s true,” Christian concluded. “I think Jordan’s feeling so overwhelmed with guilt from her friend’s death that she’s seeing bogeymen who just aren’t there.”
Jordan’s eyes narrowed, and she looked ready to snatch the phone from him, but Egan waved her off.
“You’ve investigated the two deaths?” Egan asked Christian.
“Yes, and I’m just not seeing what Jordan’s seeing. One of the victims was mangled and burned so bad in a car accident that it was hard to tell if she had missing organs or not. The other was dumped in the woods, and animals had ravaged the body.”
As gruesome as that was, Egan actually felt some relief. Maybe this wasn’t connected to Shanna after all. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on his part. It sickened him, though, to think that Jordan might be right, that Drew did indeed want any living part of Shanna dead.
“Look, just tell her to come home, and I’ll talk this out with her,” Christian continued. “Or better yet, tell me where she is, and I’ll come and get her. I care for her. A lot. I want to make sure she gets the help she needs.”
This time, Jordan did grab the phone, and she hit the end-call button. She opened her mouth, no doubt to try to convince him that she wasn’t “obsessed” as Christian had claimed. But the approaching headlights stopped her.
The vehicle wasn’t coming from town but rather from the direction of the ranch. If it was Court or one of the hands, they would stop when they spotted his truck, and Egan would have to explain why Jordan was with him.
Too bad he wasn’t sure of the answer himself.
As the headlights got closer, Egan felt his chest tighten. That was because it was a blue truck. Identical to his. And there wasn’t another vehicle like it on the ranch. Plus, this vehicle had the same license plate number. Since Egan’s plate was legit, this one had to be a fake.
“It’s him.” Jordan reached for his jeans. No doubt to try to get to her gun. But it was too late.
The bullet crashed through the windshield of Egan’s truck.

Chapter Two (#u63aa0199-9f5c-5468-9d6c-cd9434fbfaf7)
Jordan’s breath froze. No, please, no. This couldn’t be happening again.
She heard the hoarse sob tear from her throat, and she took hold of her gun that was in the back waistband of Egan’s jeans. She managed to get it, but Egan immediately pushed her down onto the seat. Good thing, too.
Because the next bullet slammed into the seat right where Jordan had been sitting.
If Egan hadn’t moved her at that exact moment, she’d be dead. She still might be, and this time the shooter might kill Egan right along with her.
“Hold on,” Egan warned her. Keeping low, he started his truck, threw it into Reverse and jammed his foot on the accelerator.
The sudden jolt of motion knocked Jordan against the seat. Hard. Her head hit, too, and the pain jolted through her. Still, feeling the awful pain was better than being shot again, but they weren’t out of the woods yet.
A third bullet smacked into the windshield, and she could have sworn it missed Egan by less than an inch. The bullet went into the headrest next to where he was hunched down.
Jordan lifted her head to get a better look at the vehicle. It was the same truck, all right. And the person inside obviously wanted to have another go at killing her. The guy had the driver’s-side window down, and he had a gun sticking out.
“I can’t see his face,” Jordan said. Because there was a dark tint on the windows. It didn’t help, either, that the driver had on the high beams, and they were shining right in her eyes.
“Don’t make it easy for him to shoot you,” Egan snarled. He shoved her back down, and he kept speeding down the road in Reverse.
Jordan wanted to remind him that she was a PI and former cop. She could return fire. However, at the moment that might not even be true. She was dizzy from the pain, and her hands were shaking. It was possible she couldn’t even hit the truck, much less the driver.
There was the sound of tires squealing against the asphalt, and Jordan knew what that meant. “He’s coming after us.”
Egan didn’t confirm that, but since the shots had stopped, it told her that the driver might be the sole person in the truck. If so, it was a gutsy move on his part to go after two armed and trained people. Then again, the guy did have them on the run, and that driver had a lot more control over his vehicle right now than Egan did. It was easier to drive forward than in Reverse, but there was no place for them to turn around on the narrow road.
“Call nine-one-one,” Egan ordered. “I want backup. But not the ambulance. Once we’re out of this, I’ll get you to the hospital.”
Seeing a doctor was the least of her concerns right now, and Jordan made the call for backup. The problem wouldn’t be getting someone out here because they weren’t that far from town. But Egan was literally taking up most of the road, and it would make it hard for the deputies to get in position to help them. Still, she wasn’t sure how much longer Egan could keep this up.
Jordan had just finished the call when she felt the jolt. The other truck had slammed into them. Hard. She heard the sound of metal scraping against metal. Unless the second truck had a reinforced bumper, he could be doing as much damage to his vehicle as he was to theirs.
Egan was still low in the seat, using the side mirror to navigate, but he had to adjust so he could better grip the steering wheel when the driver came at them again. If he hadn’t done that, they would have gone into the ditch. It hadn’t rained recently so it wasn’t filled with water, but they’d still probably get stuck. Then, they’d be sitting ducks for the shooter.
The memories came. They always did whenever Jordan had a gun in her hand. That wasn’t exactly an asset for a private investigator—to have the memories come at her so fast and strong that it put her on the verge of a panic attack. It was the reason she didn’t wear a badge any longer. It was also the reason her life, and her head, were a mess.
If Drew Paxton was behind this, then he was getting a good laugh right now. Not only was he trying to “kill” any living piece of Shanna, he might manage to take out the man Shanna had loved. Of course, Jordan felt as if she had already managed to “take out” Egan. Shanna’s death had crushed him.
And Jordan was responsible for that.
Drew had been aiming at Jordan to finish her off when he’d fired that deadly shot. But he hadn’t hit his target. Because Shanna had jumped in front of Jordan at the worst possible moment. And now Shanna was dead from a gunshot wound to the head, and Jordan was alive. Egan would never forgive her for that, and she’d never forgive herself.
The memories thankfully moved to the back of her mind when the truck crashed into them. Egan had to fight with the steering wheel again, and it didn’t help when the driver rammed into them a fourth time. He would almost certainly continue to do that, too, until he disabled the engine, forcing them to stop. Then, he could try to use his gun on them to finish this.
“Hold on,” Egan repeated to her.
Jordan lifted her head again so she could get a glimpse out the windshield, but the glass was so cracked and webbed that it was hard to see anything. She certainly couldn’t tell if the guy was about to hit them again.
But she did hear the squeal of his tires.
Not the other truck’s but Egan’s. Egan hit the brakes, and in the same motion, he turned the steering wheel, backing onto what appeared to be a ranch trail. It was gravel, and the rocks pelted the undercarriage. The sound was deafening, like being bombarded with bullets, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown out the other driver hitting his brakes, as well.
Now that they were both stopped, Jordan figured either Egan or she would have a shot. Of course, so would the driver of that truck. That was probably why Egan got his window down in a hurry. Before Jordan could even sit up, Egan got off two shots.
Jordan lowered her window, too, and she tried to steady her hand enough to take aim. She didn’t get a chance to do that, though.
“What the hell,” Egan mumbled.
The other truck’s door flew open. Not on the driver’s side, either. But the passenger’s. Maybe she’d been wrong about the shooter being the only person inside the vehicle.
And then something fell from that opened door.
It was too dark to tell exactly what it was, but Jordan thought maybe it was a person. If it was someone, Jordan figured he or she would get up and start shooting at Egan and her.
But that didn’t happen.
The driver of the other truck slammed on the accelerator, leaving the other person behind. Jordan braced herself for the truck to hit them again. It didn’t. The driver sped off, heading in the direction of town.
She could practically feel the debate Egan was having with himself as to what to do. He volleyed his attention between the person on the ground and the escaping driver of the other truck.
Egan finally snatched his phone up from the seat, pressed a number and immediately put the call on speaker. No doubt so he could free up his hands in case he needed to use his gun.
“John,” he said to the person who answered.
John Clary was one of the deputies who worked for Egan at the McCall Canyon Sheriff’s Office. Jordan had known him for years, and she knew he was a good lawman. He had almost certainly brought another deputy with him, too.
“You’ve got a dark blue truck headed your way,” Egan told the deputy. “It’s identical to mine, right down to the same license plate, but it’s not me. The driver is armed and dangerous. Stop him if you can.”
“Will do. Say, are you okay, boss?” John asked.
Egan paused. “I have Jordan Gentry with me.”
John obviously knew something had to be seriously wrong for her to be with Egan. And it was. That person on the road wasn’t moving. That didn’t mean he or she wasn’t still dangerous, though. This could be a ploy to get Egan and her out in the open so the person could gun them down.
“Just get to the truck,” Egan added to John a moment later. “I don’t want whoever’s inside escaping.”
Neither did Jordan, but there were several ways the shooter could manage to do just that. She’d grown up in McCall Canyon and knew there were plenty of ranch trails between here and town. He could turn onto one of those and hide. Plus, there was even another farm road along the route. If he or she managed to get there ahead of the deputy, then it was just a short drive to the interstate. It would be hard to track him after that because she was betting he would switch out those fake plates.
Part of her didn’t mind having some distance between the attacker and her. Especially since Jordan wasn’t in much shape to put up a fight. Her shoulder was still bleeding, and her head was throbbing. But she also knew if they didn’t catch him now, that he would likely come after her again.
“No matter what happens, I want you to stay put,” Egan warned her a split second before he eased the truck out from the trail and back onto the road. “And keep an eye out in case our friend returns to shoot at us again.”
Jordan was already doing that, but she was also making glances at the person who was still lying on the road. Egan pulled closer, but it was still hard to tell much because he or she was wrapped in a blanket. Of course, the cover could be concealing a weapon.
Had Drew or his brother managed to send would-be killers after them? If so, this could be a hired gun. That was probably why Egan hadn’t wanted her out of the truck. But obviously he wasn’t going to take that same precaution himself.
He put on his emergency flashers, the red lights knifing through the darkness, and he pulled to a stop directly next to the person. Jordan moved closer to him so she could provide some backup if this turned into a shootout, but there wasn’t much she could do to keep him out of the line of fire.
Egan stepped out.
He immediately maneuvered himself so that he was in front of Jordan, protecting her. She knew it wasn’t personal, though. Egan was a lawman through and through, and he would now see her as part of the job.
Even if it wasn’t a job that he especially wanted.
Jordan moved again, too, so that she could keep watch around them and still see from over his shoulder. With his gun ready, Egan walked closer. There was still no movement, so he used the toe of his boot to nudge the person.
“Is it a dummy?” Jordan asked.
Egan nudged it again and shook his head. “There’s blood.”
Sweet heaven. That gave Jordan another jolt of adrenaline—along with a really bad thought. Both Egan and she had fired shots into the truck. And they’d done that before the person had been dumped on the road.
Had she shot him or her?
Or had Egan done it?
Jordan forced herself to remember that this could have been the shooter who’d been trying to kill them. He or she might have deserved to die. But like Shanna, the person could have been innocent in all of this, too.
Her lungs started to ache, and that was when she realized she was holding her breath. Her chest muscles were too tight. As if they were squeezing the life out of her. Jordan refused to give in to the memories and the panic. None of that would help Egan right now.
She heard Egan gut out some profanity under his breath as he reached for the blanket. He didn’t yank it but rather gave it a gentle tug, touching it only with his fingertips.
The way a cop would touch evidence he didn’t want contaminated.
And Jordan soon realized why Egan had done that. The moment he pulled back the blanket, she saw the face of the person who was wrapped inside it.
It was a woman.
And she was dead.

Chapter Three (#u63aa0199-9f5c-5468-9d6c-cd9434fbfaf7)
Egan couldn’t push away the sickening feeling of dread. A woman was dead. And he might have been the one to kill her.
“There was no ID on the body,” Egan heard Court say from the other end of the line. “We’ll try to match her prints so we can figure out who she is.”
His brother was at the crime scene with the medical examiner and the CSI team so Court would make sure that everything was done as fast as it could be. Egan had wanted to be there, too, but he also had to make sure Jordan got to the hospital.
And that she was safe.
Ironic, since just an hour ago he hadn’t believed she was truly in danger. Well, he sure as heck believed it now. The person in the truck had wanted to kill her. He was certain about that. But the next steps were for Egan to figure out who this dead Jane Doe was and how she fit into what had happened.
Obviously, Jordan wanted to hear all about that, as well. Even though the doctor was stitching up her shoulder, she was leaning closer to Egan. No doubt trying to hear Court’s every word. When he finished the call, Egan would give her the condensed version, but first he wanted to try to process it himself.
“Cause of death?” Egan asked Court.
“Two gunshot wounds to the head. No stippling.”
Hell.
Stippling happened when particles of gunpowder embedded into the skin. Since it wasn’t on the victim, Egan knew she probably hadn’t been shot at point-blank range. That meant, she might have still been alive while she was in the truck. Might.
Egan dreaded this next question, but he had to know. “Did the victim have any organs missing?”
Court blurted out a single word of bad profanity. “No. Not that I can see. Why would you think that?”
“I’ll fill you in when you’re back here.” No way did Egan want to get into this over the phone, but it was a relief that the woman seemed to be intact. “Were there exit wounds on the body?” Egan asked.
“No. The bullets are still in her.”
As grisly as that sounded, that was actually a good thing. “I want ballistics done ASAP,” Egan reminded his brother.
Though a reminder really wasn’t necessary. Court was already well aware that was one answer they had to have right away.
“I’ll get it,” Court assured him. “You do know, though, that even if the shot came from your gun, or Jordan’s, this was an accident? From everything you told me, both of you were aiming at the driver, who was shooting at you. You didn’t even know there was a passenger in the vehicle.”
Yeah, he knew that in his head. But his gut was having a lot of trouble with it. If the woman had died from his bullet, then the bottom line was that he’d been the one to kill her.
“Also, I’ve made some calls about the truck the gunman was driving,” Egan continued a moment later. “It had to be custom since the windshield was bullet resistant and the front end had been reinforced. We might get lucky and find out who ordered a vehicle like that.”
“I can help you with that when I get back to the office,” Court answered. “Might not be for a while, though, since we want to process Jordan’s vehicle, too. How is she, by the way?” Court asked after a pause.
She had a lot less blood on her than when Egan had first seen her, but she had that stark look in her eyes. The one that told him she was dealing with a serious adrenaline crash and was maybe in shock.
“Jordan’s, well, Jordan,” Egan settled for saying. Stubborn and driven. Not necessarily a good combination.
“She really should be in the hospital,” Dr. Lucy Madison said to Egan the moment he was finished with his call.
Dr. Madison had been working at McCall Canyon Hospital since Egan was a boy. She knew her stuff. And she was right. Jordan should be in the hospital, but when she’d repeatedly refused, Egan had brought her to the sheriff’s office instead and called Dr. Madison to come and check her out.
“I’d rather not be at the hospital with a killer on the loose,” Jordan grumbled.
It wasn’t her first grumble about that, either, and Egan could definitely see her side of it. Jordan was a former cop and hadn’t been able to stop the attack, and this thug could just come walking into the hospital to finish what he’d started. At least Egan could control who came in and out of the sheriff’s office, and the gunman would have to be plenty stupid to come into a building with cops.
“Will she be okay?” Egan asked Dr. Madison. It wasn’t a general kind of question, though. He needed to know how soon he could move her to a safe location so he could get on with this investigation.
“I think she’ll be all right,” the doc answered. “I’d still like to run some tests, but if it’s absolutely necessary for her to be here, it can wait.”
“It’s necessary,” Jordan assured her.
Dr. Madison made a suit-yourself sound and gathered up her things. “I’ll call in a script for some pain meds, but something tells me you won’t be taking them.”
Jordan looked at her. “I won’t be.” And there wasn’t a shred of doubt in her voice.
The doctor sighed. “Well, just take some over-the-counter stuff if it gets too bad. You’ll have a doozy of a headache for a day or two.”
Egan figured from the way Jordan kept wincing that it’d gone well past the doozy stage. Still, he didn’t press it. But he would when the doctor was finally out of his office.
“I will need my immunosuppressant meds, though,” Jordan told the doctor. “They’re at my place in San Antonio, but I haven’t had my dose today.”
“Immunosuppressant?” Egan asked.
Jordan dodged his gaze. “For the kidney transplant.” She gave the name of the drugs to the doctor.
Dr. Madison nodded. “I’ll get you a new script. Will she be here for the next hour or so?” she asked Egan. “Because if so, I can have the pharmacy deliver it to her. Jordan really shouldn’t miss taking it even for a day. It could cause her body to reject the donor kidney.”
Egan wasn’t sure he’d wanted to know that. It was always hard to think of Jordan having part of Shanna inside her. If that part died, it’d be a little like losing Shanna all over again. That probably didn’t make sense to most people, which was why Egan kept it to himself.
“Jordan will be here for a while,” Egan assured the doctor. Just how long “a while” was, though, he wouldn’t know until he’d learned more about what was going on.
“Tell me about the other two living recipients,” Egan said to Jordan once the doctor had left.
Jordan had already given him the names—Tori Judd and Irene Adair—and while Egan had been making some calls, he’d done internet searches on them, but he hadn’t pulled up much. Irene Adair didn’t even have a driver’s license so there was no DMV photo on her. He had gotten a look at a photo of Tori, but Egan didn’t know if she was a match to the dead woman or not.
Jordan drew in a deep breath and moved from the corner of his desk where she’d been sitting to the chair across from him. “I have computer files on both of them, but I honestly don’t know if one of them is the dead woman. There was too much blood for me to get a good look at her face.”
Ditto. But what he had been able to see would be etched in his mind forever. So would some of the details that were eating away at him. “I’m not sure our attacker had enough time to wrap her in a blanket before he dumped her out of the truck.”
“Yes.” Jordan said it so quickly that she’d probably given it some thought. But then she lifted her shoulder. “Unless she’d already had the blanket draped around her.” She winced again. Hesitated. “Did the woman have a missing heart or pancreas?”
“No.”
Egan saw the same relief in her eyes that he’d felt when Court had told him that. Like him, the relief didn’t last long.
“It’s possible the gunman had the woman on the seat next to him,” Jordan said, “and he pushed her out only after she’d been shot.”
Egan had considered that, too. That was why they needed to find the driver of that truck so he could shed some light on this.
“How long before we have ballistics?” she asked.
Egan nearly told her there was no “we” in this investigation, but there was. Whether he liked it or not, and he didn’t, Jordan and he were in this together.
“As soon as the ME can get the bullet out of the Jane Doe, Court can do the comparison with our guns.”
Egan had gone ahead and sent both his and Jordan’s weapons to the lab. Still, it might be tomorrow before they heard anything. It might be that long as well before they got an ID on the woman. It’d be hell waiting, but it wouldn’t be downtime.
“I’ve already called Kirk,” Egan continued. “He didn’t answer, but I left a message for him to get in here for questioning.”
“He won’t like that,” she said under her breath.
No. But then Kirk didn’t care much for anything Egan did. Kirk apparently wasn’t objective enough to figure out the only person to blame for Shanna’s murder was Drew himself.
“Kirk is obviously a suspect,” Egan went on, “but I have to wonder why he’d wait nearly two years before doing something like this.”
Jordan gave a frustrated sigh. “Maybe it’s just now sinking in that his brother is going to die on death row. Or Drew could consider this a loose end he wants tied up before he gets that lethal injection. He lost his appeal.”
True. But there’d be other appeals. Ones that would take a long time. The average inmate in Texas spent over ten years on death row. It didn’t matter that there’d been eyewitnesses to what Drew had done. It didn’t matter that the man wrecked plenty of lives. He would still survive years longer than Shanna. Justice definitely wasn’t a substitute for the havoc that had played out that day.
“I also need to know if there’s someone else you’ve crossed paths with,” Egan went on. “Someone you ticked off enough to do something like this. Because what happened tonight might not even be related to the two dead recipients.”
Jordan didn’t argue with that verbally, but she did shake her head. “I’m not seeing anyone.”
He waited for her to add more. When she didn’t, Egan went with his next question. “How about the cop, Christian Abrams? He said he cared about you a lot.”
Her mouth tightened. “He thinks I’m crazy. I’m not.”
Egan was beginning to believe that. “Could something have happened between you two to make him want you dead?”
“No.” But then she huffed. “We worked together when I was still on the force. Now I do death penalty case reviews for a watchdog group called The Right Verdict. They want to make sure people haven’t been wrongly convicted, and Christian is still my main contact at SAPD. He and I have had a disagreement or two about whether or not someone incarcerated actually got a fair shake at justice. But other than that, nothing.”
That didn’t seem like much of a red flag to turn a cop into a killer. Still, it was worth checking out. Egan pushed a notepad and pen across the desk toward her. “Give me the names of the cases where you disagreed.”
The surprise flashed through her eyes. “You don’t really believe Christian could have done this?”
“I won’t know until I’ve checked him out.” He tipped his head to the notepad. “Names, dates, anything else you have.”
Jordan hesitated a moment and then wrote down a website address and password. “That will get you into my online storage account. The first file will be everything about the organ recipients. The next two will be the case files I’m working on for my job, the ones where Christian and I didn’t see eye to eye.”
Good. He put the note with the info in his pocket so he could go through that while he was setting up a safe house for Jordan. He was about to broach that subject with her, but Jordan spoke before he could say anything.
“One of the calls you made while I was being stitched up was to Alma Lawton. She’s the woman who’d had an affair with your father, Warren.”
Obviously, Jordan had been keeping tabs on him. Of course, that wouldn’t have been hard to do since his father’s affair had made the newspapers. It had come to light after Warren had been shot and nearly killed. His father had led a double life for over thirty years, and his lover, Alma, had been a suspect. Initially so had her and Warren’s son, Raleigh. Egan’s half brother. But both had since been cleared.
“Alma has an alibi for tonight,” Egan explained. “And the rangers are monitoring her bank accounts. If she’d withdrawn any money for a hired gun, we would have known about it.”
“But if you called her, you must have thought she could possibly be involved in this,” Jordan pointed out.
Egan shrugged. “Just ruling her out. That’s why I’ll check into Christian, the living recipients and the cases you’re reviewing for your job.”
She looked up and their eyes connected. For just a moment he saw the fear and pain—something she quickly tried to rein in. He saw something else, too. Jordan, the woman. She was attractive. Always had been. And she’d always had a thing for him since way back in high school.
That “thing” she had for him was apparently still there.
Egan figured that was because Jordan and he had been each other’s first lovers. That sort of thing created weird bonds between people. But the bond hadn’t kept Jordan in McCall Canyon. She’d always wanted to be a big-city cop and had left Egan behind. It had hurt at the time, but they’d both moved on. And Egan had eventually met Shanna and fallen in love with her.
During the time he’d been with Shanna, Egan hadn’t felt the old attraction for Jordan. But he darn sure felt it now. Felt it and shoved it aside as fast as he could. It wasn’t hard to do because of the voice he heard in the squad room. Apparently, it was a voice Jordan recognized, too, because she pulled back her shoulders and slowly got to her feet.
Their visitor was Leeroy Sullivan, Shanna’s father.
As Egan usually did when it came to Leeroy, he gathered his breath and got ready for battle. Leeroy would never just pay him a casual visit, and since it was well past normal duty hours, something must be wrong. Of course, often the only thing that was wrong was that Leeroy was drunk and wanted to vent. However, Egan didn’t see any signs of drunkenness tonight.
Simply put, Leeroy had not aged well. He was in his early fifties, but looked ten years older than that. And he’d let himself go, too. Once he’d been a big college football star and careful about keeping in shape. All of that had gone by the wayside, though, when he’d lost his only child. Shanna had been the center of his life.
“Egan,” Leeroy greeted. It wasn’t friendly. Never was when it came to Leeroy. He blamed Egan for Shanna’s dying. But judging from the glare he shot Jordan, she had top dibs in the blame department.
“I heard you were here,” Leeroy said to her. He spared a glance at the bruise on her head.
“How’d you hear that?” Egan asked.
“My wife was in the ER with a stomach bug, and I heard the nurses talking about Doc Madison having to come over here and stitch up Jordan. The gossip is that someone attacked her.” Leeroy didn’t sound choked up about that.
“Someone did,” Jordan said, but she had to clear her throat and repeat it to give it some sound. Obviously, she didn’t like dealing with Shanna’s father any more than Egan did. “The person shot at Egan, too.”
Definitely not choked up about that, either. Leeroy’s scowl stayed in place.
Since Egan wasn’t in the mood for getting into a scowling match with Leeroy, Egan just laid it all out there. “If you were hoping Jordan and I would be killed, you didn’t get your wish.”
Leeroy didn’t jump to deny that was indeed his wish. And it might be.
“I came to tell Jordan that I don’t want any more visits from her cop friend,” Leeroy finally said. “In fact, I don’t want anything to do with her or anyone else who considers her a friend.”
Leeroy let his scowl linger a bit on Egan, probably because he likely thought that friendship label applied to him simply because he was standing next to Jordan.
Jordan shook her head. “What cop visited you?” she asked Leeroy.
“Christian Abrams.”
Egan looked at her to see if she’d known about that, but she obviously hadn’t. He definitely didn’t like the way the cop’s name had come up twice now.
“What did Christian want?” she pressed.
“To tell me some cockamamie story about the folks that got Shanna’s organs, that somebody was killing them off. He didn’t believe it. Neither do I. But he said he was worried about you going off the deep end over it. I told him I didn’t give a rat whether you went crazy or not.”
Later Egan would find out why Christian would make a visit like that to Shanna’s father, but for now, he wanted to address the pure venom he’d just heard in Leeroy’s voice.
“You hate Jordan that much,” Egan commented.
“I hate you just as much.” Leeroy’s face was tight with anger, but he seemed to be blinking back tears, too. “If it hadn’t been for you two, my baby would be alive. You two let her get killed.” His attention slashed back to Jordan. “Shanna took a shot that was meant for you. That bullet should have gone into you.”
“A bullet did go into Jordan,” Egan reminded the man. Even though it did feel strange defending Jordan. Still, she wasn’t defending herself. “It damaged both of her kidneys, remember?”
“I remember,” Leeroy spat out. “But Jordan got the easy bullet. My baby took the one that should have killed Jordan instead. And she died. My baby died. Jordan lived because she got a part of Shanna. So did those other people, and it’s not right.”
Egan latched right on to that. “Are you saying the recipients should have died, too?”
He didn’t say it with actual words, but his expression confirmed it. Leeroy’s feelings weren’t much of a surprise to Egan. That didn’t mean hearing it didn’t sting, though. It did. Because Leeroy was right. Still, that much hurt and anger was a red flag to a lawman.
“I gotta ask,” Egan said to him. “Where were you tonight?”
The jolt of surprise seemed to make Leeroy’s muscles even tighter. “Oh, no. You’re not going to try to pin this on me.”
“It was a simple question,” Egan pointed out. “Usually it’s simple to answer for someone who isn’t hiding anything.”
If looks could have killed, Leeroy would have ended Egan’s life right there. “Like I said, I was at the ER with my wife. If you don’t believe me, just ask the nurses.”
Oh, he would. But Egan wouldn’t like doing it. Plain and simple, he felt guilty when it came to Leeroy. He hadn’t protected Shanna, and part of Egan would always believe that he deserved every bit of hatred and venom that Leeroy sent his way.
“Tell that cop friend to stay away from me,” Leeroy growled to Jordan before he turned and stormed out.
“I’ll call Christian,” she said, taking out her phone.
She wasn’t scowling exactly, but Egan knew from her tone that this wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation. However, it was one he wanted to hear. He didn’t get to do that because his own phone rang, and Egan knew he had to take the call when he saw Court’s name on the screen.
“No ID yet on the Jane Doe,” Court volunteered the moment Egan answered. “But when the ME and his crew were moving the body, something fell out of the blanket. I bagged it, but I thought you might want to see it before I send it to the crime lab.”
“Why? What is it?”
Egan thought he heard his brother mumble some curse words. “It’s a note,” Court finally said. “It’s not good, Egan. And it’s addressed to Jordan and you.”

Chapter Four (#u63aa0199-9f5c-5468-9d6c-cd9434fbfaf7)
Jordan had no trouble hearing what Court had just said to Egan, and it caused everything inside her to go still. For a couple of seconds anyway. Then the new wave of panic came. And pain. But the pain was because she’d bunched up her forehead, the motion pulling at the stitches.
It was a reminder she didn’t need of just how close she’d come to dying tonight. The note was perhaps going to be another of those unnecessary prompts.
Since the note was addressed to Egan and her, that meant the attack and the woman’s death weren’t just some fluke, that they did indeed have something to do with them. Of course, she hadn’t actually believed that it was a sick coincidence, but she’d held on to the hope like a lifeline.
Well, that lifeline was gone now.
And Jordan just sat there, trying to gather what little of her composure she had left so she could listen to the rest of what Court had to say. Judging from Egan’s grimace and his muttered profanity, he was trying to do the same thing.
“The note’s handwritten,” Court went on. “It’s scrawled as if the person wrote it in a hurry. It says, ‘Want to put an end to the killings? Meet me. I’ll be calling you soon.’ And there’s no signature.”
That last part definitely wasn’t a surprise. No way would the person who’d written that note want them to know who he or she was. Because if they did know, Egan could make an arrest for attempted murder. Maybe even murder. But the jury was still out on who’d killed that woman who’d been dumped from the truck.
“I’ll be calling you soon,” Court repeated. “You think this could be a situation where this clown is going to demand payment so the killings will stop?”
“Maybe.” Though Egan didn’t sound especially hopeful about that.
Neither was Jordan, but it was sadly the best-case scenario here. If the person could be paid off, then the motive was simply money. Not that she had money, but Egan did, and plenty of people knew that. Still, this didn’t feel like something that simple. It would be a lot harder for them to stop this guy if the motive was revenge because their attacker might not be satisfied until Egan and she were dead.
She stood and started walking, just to give herself something to do with the slam of fresh adrenaline she got. Egan’s office wasn’t that big so she soon ended up in front of the bookcase and filing cabinet, where there were framed pictures of his family.
And Shanna, of course.
Every detail of Shanna’s features was etched in Jordan’s memory, but it was even more painful seeing that face. That smile. Jordan went back to the chair so the photos would be out of sight and hopefully out of mind. For a couple of seconds anyway. She needed to regain her footing, and she didn’t stand a chance of doing that if she was looking at Shanna’s face.
“Are you okay?” Court pressed when neither of them said anything.
“Fine,” Egan snapped, but all three of them knew that wasn’t the truth. “Have the handwriting on the note analyzed. Also check the paper for prints or trace.”
“I will,” Court assured him. “But I think this makes it pretty clear that Jordan and you are the targets. Please tell me you won’t go to a meeting with this snake if he or she actually calls.”
A muscle flickered in Egan’s jaw. “If there is a call, I’ll see what he wants and take things from there.”
Judging from Court’s huff, he didn’t like that answer, but Jordan felt the same way as Egan. If a meeting truly would put a stop to the killings, then she would go for it. Well, if she could figure out a way for Egan and her to come out of it alive.
“It’s late, and I’m sure you’re both exhausted. Are you taking Jordan to the ranch?” Court asked a moment later.
There was more of that muscle flickering from Egan. “Maybe. But if that’s where we go, it would be just for tonight.”
Jordan was shaking her head before he even finished, and she got to her feet. “I don’t want to go there,” she protested.
Egan didn’t even acknowledge that. He just kept talking to his brother. “Call me the minute you get anything back from the ME, CSIs or the lab. Are there any safety measures you want me to take for Rayna?”
“Rayna and I have already worked that out.” And Court proceeded to tell Egan about some hands standing guard and an armed security system.
Jordan knew that Rayna was a local horse trainer who was also engaged to Court. That likely meant the woman had already moved to the ranch, and Jordan figured she could use that to win the argument she was about to have with Egan. An argument that started the moment he finished the call with Court.
“I don’t want to go to the McCall Ranch,” she repeated. “Your family will be there. Your father, your sister and apparently Rayna, too. My being there could put them in danger. Not to mention that none of them will want me there after what happened to Shanna.”
“No, my family won’t be there. Court and Rayna have their own place on the back of the property. My sister, Rachel, lives with her soon-to-be husband in a house near town. And my dad has been staying at his fishing cabin down by the river.”
Even though she wasn’t ready to give up her argument, that did give her a new reason for alarm. That was because the fishing cabin was a good mile from the main ranch house.
“Is it safe for your father to be there?” she asked. “I mean since someone tried to kill him just two months ago.”
Egan lifted his shoulder. “Some people ignore the danger and hope that it doesn’t come back to bite them.”
“You mean me.”
“Yeah,” he readily admitted. “Just because you didn’t die with Shanna doesn’t mean you have to choose to die now.”
Surprised, Jordan pulled back her shoulders. Egan didn’t usually bring up Shanna’s name around her. Nor did he usually show any kind of concern for her. Of course, maybe the concern was because of the danger she might have brought to his doorstep.
“You blame me for what happened tonight?” she came out and asked.
“No,” he snapped, but it certainly sounded as if he meant yes. “It was beyond risky, though, for you to investigate those other deaths on your own. You should have turned all of this over to the cops before things got this far.”
She heard the words and was certain that they were true, but there was another angle to this. “You didn’t believe me when I told you about the other deaths. You thought I’d gone off the deep end.”
And maybe he still did think that, but Egan managed to give her a flat stare. “You really want whoever’s behind this to get his hands on you?”
“No. Of course not.” It put an icy chill through her just thinking about it. This person had likely killed three people, and she didn’t want her or anyone else to be his next victim. “The same goes for you, though. We need a safe house, not your family’s ranch.”
“That’s probably true, but it’s nearly midnight and too late to come up with an alternative.”
She tipped her head toward the back of the building. “How about the break room? There used to be a shower and a sofa back there.”
The last time she’d seen it, it had definitely qualified as bare-bones. Nothing more than a flop room for cops pulling double shifts. Still, it beat going back outside. She didn’t want to run from a killer, but Jordan wasn’t sure she could face him head-on right now.
Egan stared at her, and she saw the fatigue and weariness in not only his eyes but in every part of his body. He probably needed to crash for at least a nap anyway. Still, she doubted either of them would get much sleep no matter where they were.
He took out his phone again, and he fired off a text. “I’ll have one of the hands bring us a change of clothes and some toiletries. Some dinner, too.” He motioned for her to follow him.
And that was when Jordan realized she had actually won the argument with Egan. Too bad it didn’t exactly feel like a win. Every part of her was on edge, and apparently it was the same for Egan because when the front door opened, he reached for his gun. So did Ian Meade, the deputy who was at his desk in the squad room. But their visitor wasn’t the killer. Or if it was, he was wearing a white lab coat.
Jordan didn’t recognize him, but Egan and Ian must have because they both huffed and reholstered their weapons.
“It’s okay,” Egan said to her, and he blew out a quick breath. “That’s Billy Watson. He works at the pharmacy.”
Billy nodded and volleyed uneasy glances at all three of them. “Uh, Dr. Madison asked me to bring over these meds.” Billy handed Egan the small white bag, and he in turn gave it to Jordan.
Jordan thanked him, but Billy didn’t hang around. He got out of there, fast, probably because he’d figured there must be some potential trouble for Egan and Ian to have drawn so fast.
Egan took a laptop from one of the desks and got her moving again toward the break room, but this time it was Ian who stopped them. He gave Egan a thick file. “You said you wanted to go through that,” Ian commented. “I can do it for you. I mean, you need to get some rest.”
Jordan didn’t know what was in that file, but Egan didn’t take Ian up on his offer. He simply told the deputy to come and get him if there was any hint of a problem, and he led Jordan to the break room.
Yes, it was as bare-bones as she had remembered with a kitchenette, sofa and chair. The attached bathroom wasn’t much bigger than a storage closet. Egan put the file and laptop on a small table next to the chair.
“You can take the couch,” she said when he took several blankets and pillows from one of the lockers.
“I’m not the one who got shot tonight.” He motioned to the bag that the medic had brought and dropped the bedding on the sofa. “Take your meds and get some rest.” Egan immediately poured himself a cup of coffee, took it to the chair and opened the file.
“If you’re drinking coffee, you must not be planning on getting any sleep,” she pointed out.
He made a sound of agreement and started thumbing through the papers in the file. Since he obviously wasn’t in a chatting mood, Jordan grabbed a bottle of water so she could take the pills, but instead of heading straight to the sofa, she walked in Egan’s direction to get a look at what had captured his attention.
And her stomach went to her knees.
Because the first thing she saw was a picture of a dead woman. Even though it was impossible to tell the woman’s identity from the photo alone, the name was beneath the grisly image.
Breanna Culver.
The woman who’d gotten Shanna’s liver. Receiving that organ had saved Breanna’s life, but she certainly wasn’t alive in the photo. The shot had been taken after the horrific car wreck that had killed her.
Egan looked up at her, and while he didn’t look especially pleased about her looming over him, he didn’t close the file or tell her to move away.
“When the doctor was examining you, I texted Ian to print out everything on the other two dead women,” Egan explained.
Yes, but there seemed to be more in that file than just that. When he moved aside another page, she saw the police report on Shanna’s murder.
Jordan had read it, of course. Actually, she could probably tell him word for word everything that was in it. But she couldn’t figure out why Egan was looking at it now. Certainly, he didn’t want all those painful memories brought to the surface at a time like this. Maybe, though, the memories were always with him.
They were always with her.
“I have to look at all the angles,” he said. “What happened tonight and what happened to those other two women might be linked to Shanna. Or someone could just want it to appear as if it is.”
She thought about that a moment. “You’re talking about Christian now.”
He didn’t need to confirm that, but since they were on the subject of the possibly dirty cop, she opened up the laptop and made her way to the online files.
“I don’t like that Christian went to visit Leeroy,” Egan added a moment later.
Neither did Jordan, and she’d considered calling Christian about that. But it could wait. The numbing medication was wearing off from where she’d had her stitches, and the wound was starting to throb. Best if she had a clear head when she confronted Christian. And it would indeed be a confrontation since he had no right to go to Leeroy with any of this.
She opened the computer files where she’d had some crossover with Christian and passed the laptop to Egan. “Like I said, I do death penalty reviews. Just to make sure corners weren’t cut, etc. And those are the two cases I flagged. Both were arrests that Christian made.”
Egan immediately began to read through them. “What made you suspicious about them?”
Jordan hoped this didn’t make her sound foolish. “Gut feeling. Christian was the only officer on scene for both arrests. Both of the prisoners claimed he set them up. I know, a lot of people in prison insist that happened,” she added. “But this just felt like something I should look at a little closer.”
Egan lifted his head and made eye contact with her. “And Christian knows about these closer looks?”
She nodded. “I think he’d like for me to back off, but that, of course, only makes me want to dig deeper.”
Egan made another of those sounds of agreement and went back to reading the file. The reading, though, came to an abrupt halt, and she saw him go stiff. “Christian was supposed to be one of the officers on scene the night Shanna was murdered.”

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