Jenna Ryan - Cold Case Cowboy

“Have I broken a law, Detective?”

She held her ground and his gaze.

He half smiled. “Tell you what. You take my truck into Painter’s Bluff.”

“I’m staying at the hotel.”

“Which one? There’s Skye Painter’s Mountain House, the Hollowback Inn and Annie’s Barn on the edge of town.”

For a moment Sasha forgot to be cold, and laughed. “Let me guess – Annie ran a bordello?”

“Rumour has it Butch and Sundance were regulars.”

“Spoken like a proud local.” She tipped her head. “And yet your badge says Denver PD. Are you a man of mystery, Nick Law?”

His eyes caught hers and held. Sasha shivered. She had the ridiculous feeling that he was stripping away her clothing piece by piece. It felt exciting in a kinky sort of way, but unnerving at the same time.

He pulled off his glove and caught her chin between his thumb and finger. “I have my moments.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jenna Ryan loves creating dark-haired heroes, heroines with strength and good murder mysteries. Ever since she was young, she has had an extremely active imagination. She considered various careers over the years and dabbled in several of them, until the day her sister Kathy suggested she put her imagination to work and write a book. She enjoys working with intriguing characters and feels she is at her best writing romantic suspense. When people ask her how she writes, she tells them by instinct. Clearly it’s worked, since she’s received numerous awards from Romantic Times BOOKreviews . She lives in Canada and travels as much as she can when she’s not writing.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Sasha Myer– An architect hired to design a Colorado resort. Is she marked for death?

Nick Law– A cold-case detective on the trail of a serial killer.

Anthony Rush– He is suspected of being the infamous Snow Globe Killer.

Kristiana Felgard– The eighth victim of the Snow Globe Killer.

Skye Painter– She hired Sasha to design a resort, but was she set up, as well?

Sheriff Will Pyle– This former state police officer doesn’t like problems in his town.

Dana Hollander– The town’s mayor contacted Nick when murder was committed.

Max Macallum– A road systems engineer who was in town when the eighth victim died.

Bo Sickerbie– The local baddie. He’s a thief – and possibly something much more sinister.

JENNA RYAN

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For Kathy and for the mum we still miss so much.

I love you.

He’d made a mistake, a big one. They’d catch him now for sure, lock him in a cell and throw away the key. His mother had warned him not to let his emotions get the better of him. Truthfully, she’d nagged him half to death on the subject, but he’d stopped listening to her a long time ago. Unless he counted the echo of her whiney voice that popped into his head at random moments and made him want to break things.

He’d broken something tonight. The blood on his hands was proof of that. Now, back in his hotel room, fear as dry as Colorado dust was setting in.

He opened and closed his mouth several times to loosen his jaw.

“Shut up!” he ordered, when his mother’s voice threatened to intrude. “It’s done, and there were no witnesses. I’m here. I’m safe. I’ll deal with the problem, talk to my idiot cousin and get out of this rat-hole town.”

Unless he got caught first.

He balled his hotel room key in a bloody fist.

The woman at the front desk had been flirting with him for the past two days. He’d pitched himself as Anthony Rush, a loner from Telluride, Colorado, looking to buy a small ranch here in the northern part of the state. She’d swallowed the lie whole and popped open another button on her shirt. He’d smiled and winked at her.

She’d vouch for him. He was a nice man who only drank beer and didn’t like to be disturbed after 10:00 p.m.

It would be fine.

He continued to flex his jaw as he turned on the radio. The announcer was droning on about some bigshot local landowner. He spun an Eagles’ song while Anthony went into the bathroom to deal with the blood.

One thing Anthony Rush knew how to do was cover his tracks. Oh yes, Mother had taught him to be thorough in all things, large and small.

Cleanup accomplished, he switched off the lights and collapsed on his bed.

He must have slept, didn’t know how with so many thoughts chattering in his mind, but it was full morning when his eyes opened and he sat up, fuzzy headed and blinking.

He groaned when he saw the blizzard outside. It was the second in two days. Then he heard the radio newscaster and froze.

The liquor store had been robbed last night. An hour later, someone had done a gas and dash at the filling station on Center Street. A 4x4 had hit a lamppost on Wilmot, and there was a big commotion brewing out near Painter’s Bluff. The sheriff would be a very busy man today.

Anthony absorbed the details of the broadcast through a haze. His head swam. He pictured the blood on his hands and worked his jaw open and shut, open and shut.

Can’t get caught , a voice in his head whispered. Have to get away. No more time to wait . Prisons were hell for people like him.

But first…

Fingers curled, teeth grinding, he bolted for the bathroom. And threw up everything in his stomach except the icy ball of fear.

Chapter One

“Skye Painter is a hard-nosed perfectionist, Sasha. I’ve read about her. She’ll expect you to do your best and more. Don’t disappoint her, or me.”

Inside her Land Rover on an icy Colorado back road, Sasha Myer set her cell phone on the dash and squinted through the windshield at the blowing snow. The prediction that Sasha’s architectural skills would be a strong reflection on her mother’s success as a parent became a buzz in her ears. Sasha had lost track of how many similar conversations they’d had, but it must be in the thousands by now. Barbara Leeds’s life had not gone according to plan, so it was up to her children—Sasha and her half brother, Angus—to fill in the blanks.

“Skye is a direct descendant of the town’s founder, George Painter,” Barbara continued. “She has money, social standing and more business savvy than any of her late husbands. Do me proud and design a stunning resort for her.”

Careful not to let her amusement show, Sasha asked, “What kind of social whirl do you think I’ll find in Painter’s Bluff?”

“Don’t be smart, Alexandra. You’re three days late arriving. It’s not a promising start.”

Sasha hated when her mother used her formal name. “I’ve been through this with Skye, Mother. She and I have worked out a number of details already, over the phone and through e-mail. I’ve explained why I’m late for the site inspection.”

“You don’t explain, you apologize. And you don’t call her Skye.”