The Texas Ranger's Bride. Rebecca Winters

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The Texas Ranger's Bride - Rebecca Winters Mills & Boon Cherish

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numbers. Here’s some paper.”

      “All right.” She got right to work. When she’d finished, she looked up.

      He took the list from her. “Thank you. What did the stalker say on the phone?”

      She bit her lip. “‘You lied about having a husband. Don’t you know it’s not nice to lie?’ Then he hung up.”

      “Was there just the one call that night?” She nodded. “Now let’s talk about everything that happened the first time this man made contact with you.”

      She shuddered visibly. “It was right after the barrel-racing event and awards. I was in the process of removing the saddle from Trixie when I heard an unfamiliar male voice from behind call me by my first name. I turned around to discover a total stranger invading my space. A lot of guys have approached me over the years wanting a date, so it wasn’t unusual.”

      Cy could believe it.

      “I don’t mean to sound full of myself. It’s just part of what goes on during the racing circuit, and I’ve always taken it in good fun before turning them down. But this was different. He came too close. After telling him no, he just stood there with a smile that made my stomach churn. Something about him wasn’t right.”

      “Could you tell if he’d been drinking?”

      “No. I couldn’t smell alcohol. I was holding the saddle in front of me with both hands and I told him I was married, hoping he’d get the message and go away. When he calmly told me to prove it, I would have thrown the saddle at him and called security, but a couple of friends happened to walk over and he disappeared. I didn’t see him again until I drove to Utah for the next rodeo at Eagle Mountain a week later.”

      “You drive a truck and horse trailer?”

      “Yes. I live in the trailer while I’m on the road. My horse handler drives his own truck and trailer carrying one of my other horses.”

      “Do you own a car?”

      She nodded. “A four-door white Toyota sedan. I keep it at the condo when I’m gone.”

      “Do you own or rent?”

      “Rent. After I leave the rodeo circuit, I’ll be buying my own place.”

      “Where’s the parking?”

      “The double-car garage is in back, but there’s parking in front.”

      “Is it in a complex?”

      “It’s a two-story town house with neighbors on either side of me.”

      Cy paused long enough to buzz the artist to come to his office, and then he turned to her. “We need a picture of this man. Without a photograph we’ll have to rely on your eyes. Our department artist has a singular gift.”

      She clasped her hands together. “All right.”

      “While we wait for him, I want you to think back. Before Pendleton, have you ever had the slightest suspicion that someone had targeted you?”

      “No. Never.”

      That sounded final. Jim showed up at the door with a sketch pad and electric eraser pencil. “Come on in, Jim. Ms. Parrish, our state’s reigning barrel-racing champion, is being stalked. Let’s see what you can work up.”

      “Sure.” He sat in the chair next to Kellie, eyeing her in male appreciation. “It’s a privilege to meet you, Ms. Parrish. We’ll start with a sketch. I could use the computer, but a sketch can tell you things the computer can’t. Don’t get nervous or frustrated. You may think this won’t work, but in three out of ten cases a culprit has been caught through a sketch. I’ll work from the eyes on out. Shall we get started?”

      She nodded and answered one question after another while he sketched. They worked together while he refined his drawing.

      Cy asked her for a more thorough description while Jim was working.

      “He looks like the guy next door. You know, someone’s brother. Maybe late twenties. Kind of lean. Okay-looking. Nutty-brown hair that curls. Short-cropped. Maybe five-ten, but he was wearing cowboy boots. Weighs probably 150 to 160 pounds. Brown eyes. He wore jeans and a different pullover the second time I saw him.”

      Jim kept working at the sketch and showed her what he’d done. She said, “His nose was a little thinner.” After fixing it he asked her to take another look. “What do you think?”

      “You truly do have a gift. It’s remarkably accurate.”

      “We try.”

      Cy took the drawing from him. The guy bore a superficial resemblance to Ted Bundy, the serial killer from several decades back, but he kept the observation to himself. “That’s great work, Jim. We’ll go with this to put in the Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System. Thank you.”

      “You’re welcome.” He turned to Kellie. “All bets are on you winning the championship in December.”

      “Thank you so much.”

      “If anyone can catch him, Ranger Vance can. See you, Cy.”

      When Jim left the office, she looked at Cy. “You’re called Cy?”

      “Short for Cyril.” Don’t get sidetracked. “Your next rodeo is in South Dakota in two weeks, but I understand your parents want you to quit the circuit.”

      “Yes, but since we talked with the police, Dad has told me he’ll hire some bodyguards for me so I can continue to compete.”

      Cy shook his head. “That won’t work. We want to draw out this stalker and arrest him. He’ll know if you have people protecting you. That will change the way he has to operate. It will hinder our efforts and prolong the time you’re forced to live in terror.”

      Her eyes clouded. “I don’t want to give up competition, not when I’m so close to the Finals in December. Isn’t there another way?”

      Yes, but he didn’t know if she’d consider it. He knew her parents would raise objections.

      “There’s always another way. If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ll be right back.” He left the office and headed for TJ’s, knocking on the open door.

      His boss’s head lifted. “Come on in.”

      Cy shut the door and sat down. “Where are her parents?”

      “In the reception area. Have you got an angle on this case yet?”

      He nodded and brought him up-to-date. Then he told him his idea. TJ didn’t say anything at first. That didn’t surprise Cy. “I know it’s unconventional.”

      “Unconventional? Hell, Cy. It’s unorthodox and unheard-of in this department.”

      “But it could work. This way she could continue winning rodeos.”

      Another few minutes passed

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