“I like your dog. She’s a good judge of character.”
Her eyebrows twitched. “Normally.”
Sassy lady. He liked that.
She turned and stared out at the land that had soothed his soul these past six months. “How far does the fence stretch?”
“At least another five miles west. You don’t mean to walk the whole property line, do you?”
“If Ginger can recapture the scent, we’ll do what we have to do.” Determination underlined each word.
“How do you know she’s on the trail of the serial killer?”
After a moment of hesitation, she explained the morning’s events that had led her to his doorstep. Anger arched through him. Some madman was using his property to commit unspeakable crimes? He’d put a stop to the criminal’s trespass.
“So let me get this straight—you walked all the way from town? That’s a good six and a half miles.” Admiration for the petite deputy and her partner spread through his chest. “Come inside and let Rosa get you a drink while I saddle a couple of horses. Then we can follow your dog.”
The deputy licked her lips, drawing his gaze to her lush mouth.
“I don’t ride.”
Forcing back the attraction warming his blood, he stared. “That could be a problem. It’s really rough terrain when you get away from the main house. You’ll never make it on foot.” He turned and headed for the barn. “Looks like I’ll be heading out on my own to catch a killer.”
* * *
“No!” Serena couldn’t believe the audacity of this man. He might look all handsome in his worn jeans, plaid shirt and Stetson covering his dark hair, but there was no way she was going to let this cowboy in on her investigation.
He stopped outside of the door to the barn. “Change your mind?”
“I said I don’t ride. Not that I can’t.” She was an accomplished horsewoman but ever since she was thrown during a competition last year in front of the whole town when a snake happened to slither into the arena, she hesitated to get back on a horse. She’d had every idiom about attempting a challenge after failure quoted to her multiple times, especially by her parents, but the words fell flat. Nothing could erase the horror of the fall or the humiliation.
“Look, you’re a civilian. You can’t go off searching for a madman who has a gun.” She took out her cell phone. “I’ll call the sheriff.” The words tasted bitter on her tongue.
Her boss was not going to be pleased that she and Ginger had gone out on their own. Failing to follow the sheriff’s order to go home could result in her being fired. She could feel her cheeks heating with both embarrassment and a strange sense of guilt. Yet she couldn’t really say she regretted tracking the scent, not if they could bring the Red Rose Killer to justice.
“Listen, if you’ll ride with me,” Jason said, “I’ll have your back.”
Curling her fingers around the phone, she stared at the handsome cowboy. “You’ll have my back?” She wasn’t going to trust her life to a wannabe superhero.
The man stared at her with an intensity that made her want to squirm. She held still and lifted her chin.
“Come with me,” he said and walked into the barn.
Caution tripped down her spine. For all she knew he could be the serial killer terrorizing the town of Dill despite Ginger’s lack of alert. Keeping a hand on her weapon, she stepped into the cool barn that smelled of hay and horses. Jason disappeared inside a small office and returned a moment later. He handed her a badge and a leather-bound ID case.
She stared at the photo of Homicide Detective Jason Hargrove of the Dallas Police Department.
What was a big-city detective doing in the rural town of Dill?
She wanted to delve in and uncover the story, but time was of the essence. They needed to get back on the trail of the Red Rose Killer. She handed back his credentials. Lifting up a quick prayer that she wasn’t making a mistake in trusting Jason, she said, “Saddle up two horses. Ginger will lead us as far as she can.”
On horseback, Jason and Serena followed Ginger along the property line. Jason adjusted his holstered personal weapon, a Sig Sauer, and glanced over his shoulder at the deputy. She sat her horse well. Everything about her said she was an experienced rider, but the look of agitation on her face made his stomach clench. “You doing all right?”
“Fine.” Her tone wasn’t reassuring.
He slowed his horse until they were side by side. “I didn’t get your first name.”
Keeping her gaze forward, she replied, “Serena.”
“Nice name.” That earned him a glance. “I’m curious, Serena. Why don’t you ride anymore? You’re obviously very good at it.”
“I had a bad fall.”
“Did you bust something?”
“Only my ego,” she replied tightly.
He chuckled. “The first step in recovery is admitting there’s a problem.”
“I’m curious, Jason.” Her tone sounded suspiciously like mockery. “What brought you to Dill?”
The knot lodged permanently in his chest twisted. “I needed a change of scenery.”
“How long were you on the force?”
“Twelve years.” A deep ache spread through him.
“What made you leave?”
“Are you always so inquisitive?”
“Comes with the job, right?”
He’d give her that. “Yes, but I’d rather we just focused on the task at hand.” He spurred the red-and-white quarter horse to a trot.
“Looks like Ginger found something,” Serena said as she and the dappled Appaloosa caught up to him.
They were about three miles from the ranch house when they came upon a section of the fence where the nails holding the planks in place had been pried loose.
He dismounted and squatted down to inspect a set of tire tracks in the dirt. “Somebody’s been coming and going off my land.” Anger simmered low in his gut.
“Can you hand me Ginger?” Serena asked.
He eyed the dog. “Will she let me pick her up?”
“We’ll find out.”
A wry smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks.” He cautiously approached Ginger.
