he turned and fled.
“Thunder, fetch!” Julianne didn’t bother to look over at the man she’d once loved, the man who’d just saved her life, but remained focused on not losing the perp.
She wasn’t nearly as fast as Thunder when it came to running through the woods, dodging trees. And it seemed like just mere moments later when she heard tires squealing as a car drove away. She slowed down, gasping for breath, knowing it was too late.
The gunman and whoever had run from the prison van had escaped.
Frustration clawing through her, she headed over to the vehicle to check on the driver. The poor man was dead. She murmured a prayer, wishing she had something to cover him with before turning her attention to the issue at hand.
“Thunder?”
Hearing nothing but silence, her heart lodged in her throat. Had the dog jumped into the getaway car? Or had someone attacked him? But then her partner came bounding back through the woods toward her. When he saw her he let out his usual, strangely musical foxhound howl.
“Good boy,” she said, bending over to give him a good rub, scratching the soft spot between his ears. “Good boy, Thunder.”
“What in the world was that noise?”
Taking a deep breath, she straightened and turned to face Brody Kenner. He was taller and broader than she remembered, but had the same dark hair and brilliant blue eyes that she’d tried not to dream about after he’d broken her heart six years ago. He was dressed in a deep brown uniform with a sheriff’s star on his chest.
So he was the Clover County sheriff now?
Somehow she wasn’t surprised.
Brody looked good. Better than good. Her chest felt tight and she had to concentrate in order to breathe normally.
What was wrong with her? What she and Brody once had was over and done with. Had been for a long time. A familiar flash of resentment twisted, turned into something softer. Regret? Seeing him again, she hated to admit that maybe things weren’t as finished as she’d wanted them to be. Just looking at him standing there, so big and strong and formidable, wreaked havoc with her emotions.
Erupting her buried feelings to the surface where they had the power to hurt her all over again.
* * *
Brody’s pulse still pounded at how Julianne had nearly been shot to death right in front of his eyes.
What was she doing here? As far as he knew, she hadn’t stepped foot in the Lone Star State since joining the FBI academy six years ago.
“Thanks for helping.” Julianne’s clipped voice was colder than the Clover River in January.
“Hey, what are friends for?” He grinned, but she didn’t smile back. Her long ebony hair was pulled back from her face and her large dark eyes, a legacy from her Puerto Rican father, never made it easy to guess what she was thinking.
She wore khaki slacks paired with a dark shirt, a small FBI K-9 logo over the left breast pocket. He’d known Julianne had left Texas to attend the academy but hadn’t known the FBI had a K-9 unit. Or that she’d joined it. Although she always had loved dogs.
She frowned. “How did you get here so fast?”
He lifted a brow. As the sheriff he was the one who should be questioning her about what she was doing trampling through the woods in his county. “I was following the prison van.” Then he scowled at where the van sat stationary in the road, the dead driver slumped over the steering wheel. “Obviously not closely enough.”
If Julianne thought his actions strange, she didn’t say anything. This wasn’t the time to bring up how he’d intended to watch his former best friend, Nathan Otwell, walk into the maximum security prison for himself. It had taken Brody a long time to gather the evidence he needed to prove his former juvie roommate had actually participated in luring troubled young men and women into drug running, prostitution and human slavery.
Several months of fourteen-hour days, because he hadn’t wanted to believe it.
Until he’d seen the evidence with his own eyes.
“I’m sorry the prisoner got away.” She swiped a hand across her forehead. “He must have had a backup plan.”
He nodded, glancing curiously at her dog, sitting straight up at her side. When faced with a stranger, he didn’t bark, aside of the weird howl he’d let out.
What had she called him? Thunder?
“Excuse me, I need to call this in.” She slid her service weapon into her hip holster and then pulled a mobile phone from her pants pocket.
“Wait a minute. Are you here in Clover on official business?” Brody scowled. The feds were supposed to notify local law enforcement when they were doing an investigation.
As a courtesy at the very least.
But he hadn’t been told anything at all about an FBI investigation taking place in his county. Which was why he’d been shocked to find Julianne facing the wrong side of a gun.
“Yes.” She didn’t elaborate, which only added fuel to the slow burn of anger and resentment in his belly.
What, had he really thought she’d come back to find him after six years?
No, of course not. He’d given up on that foolish hope a long time ago. She’d made her decision, one that hadn’t included him.
“Max? It’s Julianne. I have a situation.” A brief pause as she listened, then nodded. “Okay.”
Brody ground his teeth, wondering who Max was. Her partner? Or a personal friend? Something more than a friend?
He cocked his head, listening to the sound of someone making their way through the woods.
A tall, muscular man with short blond hair emerged from the brush, a caramel-brown female boxer at his side. The man’s rugged face bore a concerned look. “Julianne? What happened? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” There was a sharp edge to her tone. “I would have gotten the assailant if he hadn’t been wearing body armor.”
“Who are you?” the man, who he guessed was Max, demanded, noticing Brody.
“Clover County Sheriff Brody Kenner.” Brody folded his arms across his chest. “Who are y’all? And what brings the FBI to my neck of the woods?”
He didn’t appreciate the silent exchange Julianne shared with Max.
“FBI Special Agent in Charge, Max West.” The fed stepped closer and offered his hand. “My partner, Opal, and this is Agent Julianne Martinez and her partner, Thunder.”
Brody shook Max’s hand, more pleased than he had a right to be to know his former flame wasn’t married. “I know Julianne, we went to college together.”
“I see.” Max glanced at Julianne who still
