Joanna Wayne - Cowboy Fever

“Did you stress to the police that this is likely the same man who stole my car earlier this evening?” Viviana asked.

“I made them aware of the circumstances.”

“Thanks.”

Which meant there was nothing to do but wait for the cops.

But at least that would give her a few minutes to clear her head and figure out how to handle Dakota.

Pain was kicking in big-time. Dakota took a small bottle of aspirin from his shirt pocket and shook a few tablets into his hand.

“Meds and alcohol don’t mix,” Viviana cautioned.

“They do in my world.” He downed them with the whiskey chaser. “Do you have a flashlight? I’d like to take a look at that bay window from the outside.”

“You do realize it’s almost three o’clock in the morning.”

“I’d still like to check it out before a cop arrives.”

“I was told to stay inside with the doors locked.”

“And you should. So either hand me a flashlight or I’ll get one out of my truck.”

While Viviana opened a kitchen drawer and rummaged for a flashlight, Dakota pulled a sharp knife from the rack at the back of the kitchen counter.

“There’s really nothing the man could see from out there,” Viviana explained as she handed him a shiny red flashlight. “The blinds were closed. And even from the front door, all you can see through the sidelights is the foyer.”

“That’s good to know.”

“I’d rather you not go out there, Dakota. The man has a gun and he might come back.”

“I hope he does, but it’s not likely.”

“What makes you think that?”

“He ran both times I showed up. He’s not looking to use that gun if he doesn’t have to. And he’s not looking for a real fight.”

“How do you know so much about criminals?”

“I watch CSI religiously.”

Once outside, the steady whir of the air conditioner dominated the still, quiet air. Dakota squeezed through the shrubs so that he was pretty much in the same spot that the trespasser had been.

Just as Viviana had said, the blinds completely blocked any view of the inside of the house. That ruled out the guy just being a voyeur. So did the fact that the screen was missing.

Dakota sprayed a beam of light over the hedge. Sure enough, the screen was tucked into one of the bushes. He moved the beam back to the window. There were marks on the wood where the guy had tried to pry the window open.

No doubt about it, the guy had come back for her. Dakota’s insides bucked at the thought of what might have happened if he hadn’t showed up at that exact moment.

Viviana was waiting to open the door for him when he stepped in front of it.

“Do you have an alarm system?” Dakota asked.

“Yes, and it was set. It would have gone off instantly if the man had come through the door or the window.”

“Nice in theory, but professional crooks disable them all the time. I’ll check it.”

“So much for feeling safe in my own house. Now that I think about it, the motion detector didn’t come on when you went outside.”

“I know. I suspect the bulb is crushed into the lawn behind the bushes.”

Before Dakota could check the alarm system, the security company called on Viviana’s cell phone to say they weren’t getting a signal from the house phone line.

She assured them she was fine. They promised to send a technician out to check the system the following morning, though they suspected the problem was with the phone company.

Dakota suspected it was with a cut phone line.

“What if you hadn’t come back tonight, Dakota? What then?” Viviana’s voice shook. “That armed thug would be in my house right now.”

Dakota slipped an arm around her shoulder. “I did come back. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

Viviana dropped to the sofa.

Seconds later, the flashing red lights of a squad car filtered through the sidelights for a few seconds before going dark. The sirens were silent.

Viviana raced to the front door. Dakota was only a step behind her, each hurried step a bitter reminder that physically, he was no match for anyone right now.

The two uniformed police officers showed their IDs and once they’d taken seats in the cozy living room, they got down to business. Dakota let Viviana do most of the talking, though he did have to explain that he didn’t get a good look at the guy he’d chased off.

Nothing in the questioning jumped out at Dakota until the younger of the cops, a guy named Greg Simmons, started asking more pointed questions.

“Is there anyone who might have a reason to target you, Dr. Mancini?”

Viviana fingered the small gold heart that dangled from a chain around her neck. “Yes, I talked to Detective Cortez earlier tonight. I’m sure he’ll follow up on that first thing in the morning, but—”

The cop interrupted. “Harry Cortez, in homicide?”

She nodded.

“How did you come to talk to him?”

“I know him from a case he’s investigating.”

The older cop leaned forward. “What case would that be?”

“The Compton case. I admitted Leslie Compton to the hospital the night she died of abuse. The case goes to trial in nine days. I’m one of the prosecutor’s witnesses.”

The cop nodded as if that explained a lot. “So you’re involved in the case against Hank Bateman.”

“Yes, but it wasn’t Hank Bateman who stole my car. I would have recognized him. if you need to know more, I suggest you talk to Detective Cortez.”

“We’ll make sure he sees this report.”

“I’ve told you everything. Wouldn’t it be more useful now for you to be searching the neighborhood for the man who tried to break in my house—whoever he may be?”

“Yes, ma’am. We’ll get on that. Keep your doors locked and if there’s any more trouble, call 911 again. I’ll see that someone’s in the neighborhood for the rest of the night.”

“I appreciate that.”

Dakota stood and tried to wrap his mind around the new fragments of information. Viviana was to be a witness in a case against a man the cops seemed to know well. That was never a good sign.

She was massaging her right temple when she rejoined him after seeing the officers to the door. She dropped to the sofa. “We need to talk.”

Her tone indicated this wouldn’t be pleasant. “About the Compton case?”

“No, that’s far too detailed to go into tonight. We need to talk about us .”

As if that would be easy. “Whatever you need to say about us has waited sixteen months. Another eight hours can’t hurt. So if it’s all the same with you, I say we crash.”

“You can’t stay here. I don’t even have an extra bed.”

He patted the sofa cushion. “This works fine. And don’t worry, I’m a light sleeper. I’ll wake at the first sign of trouble. Not that I expect there to be any more tonight.”

“You don’t have to stay.”

“I’m staying.”

“Then I guess we should just crash.”

She didn’t sound excited about having him as an overnight guest, but she did sound relieved. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was sticking around for protection or because she could put off the conversation she was obviously dreading.

She walked away but returned a few minutes later with sheets, a pillow and a fresh ice pack. The moment grew uncomfortable. Saying a friendly good-night to a woman with whom he’d shared the hottest sex of his life, albeit months before, was downright prickly.

They managed it. He watched her walk up the stairs, the gentle sway of her hips as seductive as ever.

A few hours ago, he’d had nothing on his mind but riding a bull. Now he was consumed with Viviana, and everything had become complex and tangled.