Cassie Miles - Sovereign Sheriff

“How do you figure?”

“People like Danny pay well for tips.” With an elegant gesture, she tucked her shiny, black hair behind her ear. “If we ask him the right questions, he’ll identify his source.”

Either Jake was losing his mind or she was making sense. “Talking to Danny Harold is actually a decent plan.”

“So I’m right.”

“Don’t push it.” He went to the door and called to Deputy Wheeler. “Bring Danny in here.”

“Can I interrogate him?” she asked. “This is my plan, after all.”

“What do you know about interrogation?”

“I just finished my first year at UCLA law school. All A’s except for a B in torts. I hate torts.”

Law school? “Why are you studying law?”

“I hope to reform the legal system in my country and in the other COIN nations. I want to do something useful.”

He stalked past her and went into the kitchen, hoping to put distance between them. He didn’t want to be sucked into her life story.

“Right now, all that’s expected of me is to appear on red carpets and attend charity and political events,” she said as she trailed behind him.

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“It’s a lot of work. I have to spend the whole day being coiffed, fitted and painted with makeup. Five-inch heels are gorgeous but painful. You should try it sometime.”

He had no intention of walking a mile in her stilettos. “If you hate it so much, why do it?”

“It’s my duty. I’m a de facto ambassador, making contacts for Jamala. It never hurts to remind people in America of our existence. Tourism is an important industry for my country.”

He opened the cherry cabinet next to the sink, took down a striped ceramic mug and filled it to the brim with coffee. Not that he needed a wake-me-up. His adrenaline was still pumping from chasing Danny and from dealing with the princess. She was too clever, too manipulative and far too appealing.

“Will you allow me to speak to Danny?” she asked. “Can I at least stay in the room?”

Her cool, caramel eyes shone with confidence. After all that had happened, her poise remained unruffled. “We’ll both question him.”

“Oh, Jake. I’m so glad we’ll be working together.”

He had the sinking feeling that he’d somehow been recruited into a partnership he didn’t want. And if he tried to explain that they weren’t a team, she’d find a way to tighten the leash. How the hell had the princess gotten the upper hand?

Before he became sheriff, Jake had spent seven years on the Cheyenne police force and had worked his way up to detective. Never once had he allowed the victim to participate in the interrogation of a witness. Nor had he ever conducted an investigation from his house.

Proper procedure was being shredded. But he wanted answers, and he had the feeling that Danny Harold would respond to the princess.

Deputy Wheeler escorted Danny, still in handcuffs, through the front door and sat him at the far end of the dining room table. The grungy little ferret beamed a toothy grin as soon as he spotted Saida. “There she is. Princess Saida Khalid of Jamala. You’ve always been one of my favorites.”

“I can’t say the same about you.”

“Come on, Princess. You like the attention, even if you won’t cop to it. Why else do you wear the short skirts and those sexy necklines? You’re one hell of a hot little number.”

“Show some respect.” Jake snatched the black knit cap from Danny’s head. “Otherwise, you’ll be spending the rest of the week in jail.”

“You don’t scare me. I have every right to do what I do. It’s called freedom of the press.”

Jake doubted that the Founding Fathers had paparazzi in mind when they drafted the First Amendment. “This isn’t about your photography. You trespassed on my property. And you broke branches on my bushes. That’s vandalism. If I charge you, it’s two weeks in the county jail.”

“That’s not fair,” he whined. “You can’t—”

Jake slammed the cap down on the table. “I’m the law in this county. You’d be wise to cooperate.”

Danny pulled back his chin like a turtle retreating into his shell. “What do you want from me?”

“First, you tell Princess Saida that you’re sorry.”

He glared at her. “Yeah, right. Sorry.”

As apologies went, that was pathetic. But Jake didn’t press for more. He nodded to Wheeler. “Take off the cuffs.”

As soon as Danny’s hands were free, he made a grab for his camera that was still resting on the table.

Jake snatched it away. “You don’t get this until you answer some questions.”

“Whatever. Let’s get this over with.”

Jake looked toward the princess. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you, Sheriff Wolf.” Apparently, Saida thought that using his title gave more gravity to her interrogation. “Let’s start at the beginning, Danny. When did you arrive in Wind River County?”

“As soon as I knew the princes were coming here.” Proudly, he said, “I have good contacts in Europe, and they told me about the COIN summit. I was one of the first on the scene. The publicity from the explosions and shootings were a bonus.”

“And you’ve been taking pictures ever since you arrived.”

“You know I have. That’s my bread and butter.”

“Huh,” Deputy Wheeler said. “Can you really make a living doing this?”

“I get decent bucks for pictures of royalty, especially in Europe. The COIN princes have a lot going for them—they’re handsome, titled and single.”

It dawned on Jake that Danny’s photos might come in handy. He might have caught something that would help the investigation. He went to the side table and picked up his sister’s laptop. “Show us some of these moneymaking photos.”

“With pleasure.” Danny rubbed his hands together, talking while he plugged his digital photo card into the laptop. “Right now, I’m on assignment from a British tabloid. They’re picking up my expenses. Whatever they don’t use, I’m free to sell elsewhere. Here we go. That’s from a couple of days ago.”

The first photo showed only two people. One of them was a woman who worked at the resort. With her was one of the twin Cavanaugh princes, probably Antoine. They appeared to be holding hands and didn’t seem aware of the camera.

Saida cooed. “That’s so sweet.”

Jake ignored the fact that Danny probably hadn’t gotten a release for this picture. It wasn’t his problem unless somebody pressed charges. “Let’s see a group shot.”

“Why?”

“You claim to be the best. Let’s see what you can do when there’s competition.”

Danny scrolled through several other pictures until he found one of both Cavanaugh princes standing with other people around. Jake recognized a couple of faces in the crowd. Burt Maddox, the former sheriff, was talking to one of the guys who worked for him. Chad Granger, a troublemaker who’d been in and out of jail, slouched at the edge of the crowd. Sheik Efraim was walking away. There were other faces he’d like to identify.

“That’s enough.” Danny removed the photo card. “If you want to see more, you need a subpoena.”

The little weasel knew his rights. Jake didn’t need to get embroiled in a lawsuit with a British tabloid. But he was short on suspects; Danny’s photos could help. “I’d appreciate your consent.”

“I’ll make a deal,” Danny said. “Let me use that photo of you and Saida on the porch. That shot is a moneymaker, worthy of front page in the tabloids. And on the entertainment TV programs.”

“It’s all right with me,” Saida said. “I can deal with it.”

“I can’t.” The most difficult part of Jake’s campaign for sheriff had been the publicity. Some of his Arapaho ancestors believed that when someone took your picture they captured a piece of your soul. “Print that photo, and I’ll sue.”