She could outwit him any day. Stan always grumbled that she had too much confidence, and one day it would land her in a boatload of trouble.
As she turned to leave, a bullet whizzed by close enough to slice the skin on her ear. It pinged into a car parked on the street behind her. Her survival instinct kicked in. She pivoted around and plowed into Sheriff Hoyt, throwing both on them onto the sidewalk, hopefully out of the line of fire. Her mind went into overdrive. They were out in the open, and whoever shot at her could easily have taken her out. Was it a warning shot, letting her know they were watching?
* * *
A big oomph shoved the breath from Ethan’s lungs as Samantha Bailey pushed him to the ground and landed on top of him. Before he could catch his breath, she slid off his body and started belly-crawling toward a parked car on the street. Glancing over her shoulder, she hissed, “Get a move on. Someone just shot at us.”
Stunned, impressed and somewhat put out by Miss Bailey’s quick reflexes, he flipped himself over and followed her. He crouched beside her as she peered around the front end of the vehicle. Where had she learned moves like the one she’d performed after the gunshot?
She twisted her head around and he spotted a thin line of blood trickling from her earlobe. His body tensed, and he pulled his gun from his shoulder holster. “You’re bleeding. Are you okay?”
She grinned and her dimples flashed. “I’m fine. They just nicked my ear.” The grin disappeared. Her lips firmed, and the gold ring around her brown pupils burst into a brilliant golden fire. “But they’ll wish they hadn’t before this is over.”
He briefly wondered about Miss Bailey’s life. Most of the women he knew would be close to hysteria after being shot at, but that was something he could think about later. Right now, he had to protect her, whether she thought she needed it or not.
“Move back. I need to get to the front of the car to see what’s going on.”
She hesitated a second, then shrugged her shoulders and scooted behind him. Ethan took a quick peek around the hood of the car but didn’t see anything. Gun in hand, he dropped back behind the safety of the vehicle and leaned against the front fender.
“Did you see or hear anything, Sam?” He winced when she took a swipe at her ear with her coat sleeve, but the blood kept seeping out.
She squinted down the lane, lit only by streetlamps, then gave him a saucy grin. “We’ve been shot at together, so I guess we’re friends now.”
Her degree of calmness after getting shot at bothered him, but they were out in the open. Now wasn’t the time to delve into Sam’s life.
“Fine, we’re friends now. Did you see or hear anything before the shot?”
He could almost see her mind sifting through different answers. It was a yes or no question. The woman was wily as a cat. His temper got the best of him. “It’s a simple question. You shouldn’t have to think it to death.”
Her chin shot up and she wore a mulish expression. “Fine. Right before we walked away from the motel, I saw a shadow moving around the car in front of room 126.”
“And you didn’t see fit to tell me?” His voice echoed incredulous anger.
Her gaze shifted away. “I’m used to handling my own problems.” She thrust her sweetly pointed chin forward. He had to bite back a grin. In some ways, Sam reminded him of Penny with her stubbornness.
“I’m sure you are, but I’m the sheriff and we’ll do this my way. By now the shooter could have circled around us. We need to move.”
Her eyes shifted toward the motel before they settled back on him. “I’m sure the shooter is long gone, but if you want to accompany me back to the bed-and-breakfast, I’d appreciate it.”
He wasn’t a fool. He knew exactly what the clever woman planned. “And after I drop you off, you’re going to sneak out and come right back to the motel.”
Her eyes widened and she dipped her chin. Jackpot!
“Admit it,” he said.
“Seems to me you already know everything, Sheriff.”
She smiled, but he didn’t trust the sassy upturn of her lips. He might as well let her tag along while he checked out room 126. Maybe it would keep her safe and out of trouble. Later the two of them would have a nice long talk. He wanted to know what she was doing standing outside the room of two men from New York so late at night.
He heaved a heavy sigh. “I know you have a knife and a gun. I want to see the permit later, but for now, stay behind me and do exactly as I say, or I’ll take you to Mrs. Denton’s and lock you in your room while I check this out.”
She flashed him a full-wattage smile, and her dimples made another appearance. She looked young and innocent, nothing close to the wily woman she had already proved herself to be.
“Sounds like a plan.” She tilted her head. “You’re a real by-the-book lawman, aren’t you? It’s all black-and-white for Sheriff Hoyt. No wiggle room for extenuating circumstances.”
He harbored the uneasy feeling that her whole life revolved around “extenuating circumstances.” “I told you to call me Ethan. We’re not very formal here in Jackson Hole. Come on. Let’s move quickly. We’ll make our way down the street, using the cars for cover, and check out room 126. Stay close behind me,” he added when she tried to slip past him.
She did as he asked and stayed behind him as they crouched behind cars and wound their way around the back of the motel. There was no sign of movement anywhere, so Ethan stepped in front of room 126. He raised his hand to knock, but Sam grabbed his arm, effectively stopping him.
“What now?” he muttered, pulling back his arm and facing her.
Exasperation covered her face. “You’re just going to knock on their door? In the middle of the night?”
He raised a brow. “I’m the sheriff, Miss Bailey, and we were shot at. I have every right to investigate the situation.”
She seemed to ponder that a moment. “Shouldn’t you call for backup or something?”
He ignored her and rapped his knuckles against the wooden door. The room stayed quiet. He knocked louder this time. “This is Sheriff Hoyt. Open the door, please.”
Nothing. Sam tried to nudge him out of the way.
“What are you doing?” She was fiddling with something in her hand and approached the door lock. He couldn’t believe it. She was going to jimmy the lock. He grabbed the set of picklocks out of her hand.
“You can’t break into a motel room. It’s against the law.” And then it dawned on him. Earlier, when she’d been standing at the door to room 126, she’d planned to break in. But why? He’d get answers later. Right now he had his hands full.
Her face scrunched into a scowl. “You are the law, and I’m with you. That makes it legal, right? Besides, you got a better idea, hotshot?”
They struggled a moment for possession of the picklocks, but brute strength gave him the advantage. The woman snarled at him like a rabid dog when
