Julie Anne Lindsey - Shadow Point Deputy

One deputy wants to keep her safe.

Another one wants her dead.

Rita Horn doesn’t know the identity of the uniform-wearing criminal targeting her. But Officer Cole Garrett vows to bring the rogue deputy—whoever he is—to justice. Strong, sexy and determined to protect, the heroic cop sparks feelings in Rita that she can’t deny, even as the danger swells around them.

Garrett Valor

JULIE ANNE LINDSEYis a multi-genre author who writes the stories that keep her up at night. She’s a self-proclaimed nerd with a penchant for words and proclivity for fun. Julie lives in rural Ohio with her husband and three small children. Today, she hopes to make someone smile. One day she plans to change the world. Julie is a member of the International Thriller Writers and Sisters in Crime. Learn more about Julie Anne Lindsey at julieannelindsey.com.

Also by Julie Anne Lindsey

Federal Agent Under Fire

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Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Shadow Point Deputy

Julie Anne Lindsey

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09352-1

SHADOW POINT DEPUTY

© 2018 Tyler Anne Snell

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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Dedicated to cat ladies.

You are my people.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

About the Publisher

Rita Horn parked her new pickup truck in the muddy gravel lot across from the docks. She dragged a bag of dry kibble from the bed and squinted at a dozen feline silhouettes framed by the sunset. It was a shame so many cats were homeless in Shadow Point. She’d take them all in if she could, but the three she already had were sure to protest.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” she called, shivering against the brisk autumn breeze. Feeding the strays seemed a decent compromise to adopting them all, but it didn’t minimize the guilt she experienced every time she stopped to check on them. If they had to be on their own, she supposed the abandoned factories along the waterfront made a decent haven. There was camaraderie, no natural predators and plenty of mice to sustain them when Rita worked late and missed her usual stop.

The cats swarmed her ankles as she rounded the building’s edge, mewling and climbing over one another to get to the food. She stopped at a line of cement bowls she’d purchased from a local landscaper when the pet store versions had insisted on blowing away.

“Who’s hungry?” She tipped the bag over the bowls, filling each to its rim. “Ah-ah-ah.” She nudged a growling pair apart. “No fighting. There’s plenty for everyone.”

The bag was nearly empty when a latecomer trotted into view. The little orange-and-white tabby had something smeared over its face and down one side.

“What is that?” Rita crouched for a closer look. Deep crimson streaks flattened the kitty’s fur into matted stripes. Rita clutched her chest. “My poor baby. What happened to you?” She reached for the tabby, but he jumped free with a hiss. It was easy to forget many of the cats were feral, not abandoned. It had taken weeks to get some to come out and see her at dinnertime. She clucked her tongue and extended a hand with the last of the kibble on her palm. The little guy wouldn’t survive long with an injury that had bled so much. He needed the wound cleaned, antibiotics and probably stitches.

“Kitty,” she cooed. The injured cat darted away, and Rita dashed after him, leaving the empty bag behind.

“Kitty, kitty, kitty.” Her sensible three-inch heels clicked and snapped against the cold ground as she gave chase. She stopped short at a fence marked NO TRESPASSING. The cat paused a moment beyond the chain- link barrier before screeching out of sight.

“Darn it.” She dropped the kibble from her palm and scanned the scene, debating the importance of her flawless, law-abiding record when that kitty needed a doctor.

A line of bloody paw prints knotted her tummy and propelled her to action. If she was caught, at least she could give a good explanation. Surely no one would fault a woman for trying to help an injured animal.

Rita shored up her nerve and tugged the gate where a thick chain and padlock held it loosely to the fence. There was enough space to slip inside if she held the gate and ducked beneath the chain, so she took a deep breath and went in. She followed the trail around the factory’s edge, admiring the soft cotton candy glow of a setting sun as it gave way to twilight. The cat stared down at her from a windowsill eight feet in the air. “Are you even hurt?”

She scanned the scene for another injured animal. Where had the blood come from, if not from the cat who was wearing it? A dark puddle drew her forward, toward a narrow object several yards away. The air seemed to sizzle with danger as she scooped an expensive-looking pen off the ground. An odd thing to find at an abandoned factory, unless developers had been here. Maybe the state was finally going to make good on the promise to renovate the area. She froze as the tip of her shoe slid against the slick cement and swallowed a scream when the puddle came clearly into view, red as the sun burning its last rays of daylight off the water.