Case File: Canyon Creek, Wyoming

Chapter Twelve

Riley froze, Hannah’s admission washing over him like ice water. His arms trembled as he hovered over her, trying to process what he’d just heard.

“I told him some of what happened to me.” The words spilled from Hannah’s lips in an inflectionless rush. “I held back most of the details-the belt buckle, the latex gloves. But I mentioned that my attacker posed as a cop. And I made it clear that I remembered more than I was telling the reporter.”

He rolled away from her, sitting up with his back to her. Cold, hard fear settled in his gut as a dozen terrifying outcomes rattled through his brain like a horrible slide show.

What had she done?

“I’m sorry,” she said, regret threaded through her voice. “I thought I had to do something to push things forward. I have so little time left before I have to go back home.”

If she even made it home alive, he thought bleakly. “You shouldn’t have done that.” His voice came out hard and strangled.

She didn’t answer.

“How did you get in touch with a reporter?”

She couldn’t answer that question without implicating Jack. She hedged instead. “Does it matter? It was my choice to do it.”

He looked inclined to probe deeper, but to her relief, he just sighed and asked, “Can we stop it?”

“No. He was writing and filing the story as soon as he got back to the office. It’s probably already on the press.”

He pushed to his feet, not ready to give up. He pulled out his cell phone. “Who was the reporter?”

“I don’t even remember the paper-it’s a daily out of Jackson. The reporter’s name is Mark Archibald.” She caught his arm, tugging him around to look at her. “I don’t think we should stop it, Riley.”

Her chin was up, her jaw squared. A sinking feeling settled in his gut, and he shook off her hand. “Like hell.” He flipped open the phone and dialed the number for Teton County Sheriff Jim Tanner.

Tanner answered on the second ring. “Jim Tanner.”

“Sheriff Tanner, it’s Riley Patterson.” Not waiting for the chief’s response, he tersely outlined what Hannah had told him about her meeting with the Jackson reporter. “Can you get the story killed?”

After a brief pause, Jim Tanner answered, “No.”

“Why the hell not?”

“The First Amendment comes to mind,” Tanner answered in a dry drawl. “Also, we’re doing a disservice to the communities we serve by holding back on this any longer.”

Riley couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “This article will put Hannah Cooper’s life in greater danger.”

“And not running it will put the lives of women all over Wyoming in greater danger,” Tanner countered firmly. “Hannah Cooper has a cop playing bodyguard for her twenty-four hours a day. Those other women don’t even know the flashing blue light in their rearview mirrors could mean their lives are over.”

Riley slumped against the bedroom wall, reason starting to gain on the galloping fear eating away at his insides. They’d only sat on the story this long to give Hannah time to remember more before they went public. But the women of Wyoming were sitting ducks with no idea what might be lurking out there to snuff out their lives. They didn’t know what to look for or how to protect themselves.

He closed his eyes. “Okay. It runs.”

He heard Hannah release a slow, shaky breath. Opening his eyes, he found her watching him with eyes bright with tears.

“I should probably schedule a press conference once the story breaks,” Tanner added, a hint of weary resignation tinting his voice. “Want to be part of it?”

“Hold on a sec.” Riley covered the mouthpiece. “Is the reporter going to say anything about where you’re staying?” he asked Hannah.

“No,” she answered. “The idea for this story was to get the killer’s attention and get him thinking about me again, instead of going on the hunt for another woman.”

He saw the fear lurking like a vulture behind her eyes, but the brave determination in her voice inspired his admiration. He might be mad as hell that she’d put her life on the line, but he had gained a new respect for her courage.

“Keep me out of it,” he told Tanner. Having him there might provide the killer with a clue where to look for Hannah.

“Okay,” Tanner agreed. “I’ll see if I can get an early look at what the paper’s going to run with. If I can, want me to fax you a copy?”

“Fax it to the police department.” He gave Jim Tanner the station’s fax number. “Joe will get it to me.”

He rang off, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Tanner thinks it should run,” he told Hannah.

“What do you think?” she asked.

He released a long, slow breath, trying to answer with his head instead of his gut. “I think the women of Wyoming should know there’s someone out there pretending to be a cop, pulling them over, abducting and killing them.”

The corners of her lip twitched briefly, though the relief didn’t quite make it to her eyes. “I’m sorry I blindsided you with it.”

“I’d have been more blindsided if I’d opened the paper in the morning and found you on page one,” he admitted. “I appreciate the heads-up.”

Uncertainty flitted across her face, but he didn’t know how to reassure her. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to. The danger surrounding her was about to grow exponentially thanks to one small newspaper story, and he found himself wanting to retreat, to save himself from the torment he knew might be coming.

What if he couldn’t keep her safe?

He was already half a man, thanks to losing Emily. If something happened to Hannah, would there be anything left?

“I need to go lock up for the night. We’ll talk in the morning.” He rose to go.

Behind him, he heard her take a quick breath, as if she had something to say. But he didn’t turn back to look at her, and she didn’t speak, so he closed the door behind him and went out to wait for Jack.

THE WOMAN STARING AT HANNAH in the mirror looked like crap. Purple shadows bruised the skin beneath her eyes, dark against her pale cheeks. Her body still buzzed with unsatisfied hunger, but her heart felt as hard and cold as a rock.

Riley had left the bedroom only moments ago, but he’d distanced himself from her long before he closed the door. She’d watched it happen, saw his expression shutter and the light in his eyes blink out.

He’d had too much pain in his life already. And she’d just asked him to take a chance on a whole lot more.

No wonder he’d walked away.

It was bittersweet, knowing that Riley really did care about her. Maybe not enough to build a relationship on, but she supposed it was something she could take home with her, like a secret souvenir, to bring out now and then to remember what it was like to be wrapped up tight in Riley’s arms.

But would that be enough? Could she go home, never to return, and be content with nothing but a memory?

WHEN JACK CAME BACK FROM the stable, Riley was waiting for him. Jack didn’t even have time to say hello before Riley pushed him against the door.

“You went behind my back and called a reporter in.”

Jack’s expression went from puzzled to guilty. “Hannah told you.”

“No, but you should have.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry. But someone needed to do something, and you were about to pack Hannah off to Alabama rather than listen to what she was trying to tell you. She wanted to talk to Mark.”

“Because she feels guilty about being the one who got away. You know how that feels, Jack.”

Jack blanched, and Riley felt a little ashamed of himself. But it was the truth, however harsh. One of the things that tied him and Jack together, now that Emily was gone, was good old-fashioned guilt.

He was a cop, Jack was a rodeo cowboy. They were the ones with dangerous lives, not Emily, who’d been the nurturer. The healer. And yet, she’d been the one to go too early. Either one of them would have traded places with her in a heartbeat.

Jack gave Riley a little push out of his way. “I know something else, Riley. I know what it feels like to need to make things right.” He crossed to the kitchen sink, fiddled with the cups drying on the rack, and finally just rested his hands on the counter, his head dropping to his chest. “Hannah’s time here is almost over, and she feels she hasn’t done anything to get you any closer to catching that bastard. It’s been eating her up.”

“You think I didn’t notice?” Riley challenged, growing angrier by the second.

Jack turned slowly to look at him. “Did you? Sometimes I think the only thing you see these days is your own pain.”

Riley flexed his fingers, longing to drive his fist into the stubborn set of Jack’s square jaw. He forced himself to stay where he was, needing distance to get a grip on himself.

“It’s not me you’re angry at,” Jack added.

“Wrong,” Riley snapped. “It’s not just that you set up the meeting, though that’s bad enough. It’s that you didn’t have the guts to be a man and tell me about it.”

“You would have stopped it.”

“That’s an excuse for lying?”

“I did what I thought I had to do,” Jack answered. “For Hannah-and for Emily.”

A thread of dark pain turned Riley’s anger into weary resignation. “I trusted you with Hannah’s safety and you put her in danger. How am I supposed to trust you after that?”

Jack looked as if Riley had slapped him. “I guess you can’t.” He turned on his heel and headed out of the kitchen.

Riley followed him into the den. “I have enough to deal with, just keeping Hannah safe, and what the two of you did is only going to make things harder.” He realized Jack was starting to pack his bag. “Going somewhere?”

“I don’t stay where I’m not wanted.”

Riley sighed. “Where would you go?”

Jack glared at him over his shoulder. “I didn’t come here to mooch. I came here because this was Emily’s home. I have enough money to rent a motel room for a few days.”

“Then what?”

“That’s my business.” Jack stuffed the last pair of jeans into his bag and started past Riley.

“Jack-” Riley went after him, catching his arm at the door. Down the hallway, the door to Hannah’s room opened, and she stepped halfway into the hall, her eyes meeting his.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

Jack set his bag on the floor and walked toward her. “I’m heading out.”

Hannah looked down at the bag, her brow wrinkling with dismay. “You’re leaving?”

“Just like a tumbleweed, sweetheart.” Jack patted her cheek. “It’s been great meeting you, Hannah Cooper. If I’m ever in Alabama, I’ll look you up.”

Hannah followed him into the kitchen, with Riley on her heels. “What’s going on?”

“Riley’s had his fill of me, I think.”

“That’s not what I said,” Riley insisted.

“If this is about the reporter, that was my doing, Riley!” Hannah grabbed his arm, desperation in her eyes. “Jack did what I asked him to do. Please-”

“I didn’t tell him to leave,” he said weakly.

“Did you tell him to stay?” she countered, her eyes flashing with fire. “If anyone leaves, it should be me. It was my idea. I’m the outsider.”

“Stop it, Hannah.” Jack put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s time. This just gives me an excuse to make a dramatic exit.” When he looked up at Riley, his dark eyes were warm with understanding. “I’m just hiding out here anyway because I don’t want to face what I left behind in Texas.”

If Riley knew his brother-in-law at all, what he left behind in Texas was a broken heart.

“I need to see if I can fix what I broke,” Jack added softly.

That was a first, Riley thought. Maybe the kid really had started to grow up this time.

“I’m not kicking you out,” he said aloud, not because he thought it would soften the resolve he saw in Jack’s eyes, but because it needed to be said.

“I know.” As Hannah stepped aside, Jack stepped forward and held out his hand.

Riley took it, giving it a firm, warm shake. “At least stay the night. Where are you going to find a motel that’ll take you in this time of night?

“You’d be surprised.” Jack grinned wryly. “But don’t worry-I ran into an old friend yesterday while I was out. He said I could come visit whenever, so I’m taking him up on it.”

“Need any money?”

Jack laughed softly. “No, but thanks for offering.”

Riley glanced at Hannah, who still looked upset. He wished he could reassure her that everything was okay, but it would take forever to try to explain the complexities of his relationship with his brother-in-law. He settled for an apologetic smile and put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I’ll walk you out.”

Hannah remained inside as they walked out to where Jack’s truck was parked. Jack tossed the bag into the passenger seat and turned to Riley. “Take care of yourself, man.”

Riley pulled Jack into a hug. “You, too. I hope you can fix whatever you left broken down in Texas.”

“I hope you can fix what you’ve broken here.” Jack stepped back and gave Riley a smile. “You’ve got three more days, man. She could change your life.”

Jack climbed into the truck, shut the door and cranked the engine. He gave a short wave as he backed down the gravel drive, then he was gone.

Riley walked slowly back to the house, Jack’s parting words still ringing in his ears. She could change your life.

That was the problem wasn’t it? His life had already changed, irrevocably. Since Emily’s death, it had become twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week of trying to cope with a world that no longer made any sense.

Yes, Hannah Cooper had been the first person in three years who’d broken through that haze and made him feel something good again. But how much of that was just two young, healthy bodies doing what young, healthy bodies do? How much of what he felt for her was wrapped up in the fact that she was his best break in the case that had haunted him for three years?

She deserved more. She deserved better.

And yet, when he found her waiting there in the kitchen for his return, her green eyes sympathetic, it took all the control he had not to sweep her into his arms and carry her into the nearest bedroom.

“It wasn’t his fault.”

Riley crossed to the refrigerator and opened it, though he wasn’t the least bit hungry. Anything to drag his gaze away from Hannah. “Jack and I are okay. I promise.”

“Then why’d he leave?”

“Because I think he realized staying here was just an excuse to hide from his problems.” Riley closed the refrigerator, empty-handed.

He supposed the same thing could be said about his own life for the last three years. God knew, he’d buried himself in this investigation as an escape from his own pain, though he couldn’t really say he’d been successful.

“I’ve been hiding here, hiding behind you, for too long,” Hannah said. “I have three days left of my vacation, and what have I been doing? I haven’t remembered anything new since the belt buckle. I haven’t even really tried.” She slammed her hand against the table, the sudden sound putting his nerves on hard alert. “I have to do something, Riley.”

“You already have,” he said, knowing it wasn’t going to appease her.

The look she gave him proved him right. “I think I need to do more interviews. Maybe play up the tourist in jeopardy angle. It would get plenty of play, wouldn’t it?”

“And draw the killer right to you.” The thought made his stomach hurt.

She crossed to stand in front of him, her eyes shining with a manic light. “Exactly.”

He shook his head. “No way in hell.”

“We could come up with a way to lure him in. Police would be everywhere. I’d be safe.”

Everything inside him rebelled. “Hannah, that’s crazy. You’re letting your frustrations overcome your good sense.”

“You’re letting your fears overcome your cop instincts,” she countered passionately. “If it was you, you’d do it.”

“That’s different.”

“Because I’m a woman?”

“Because I can’t-” He bit off the rest of the thought, not ready to say it aloud. Not even to himself.

She took his hand and threaded her fingers through his, gazing up at him with a warm, soft gaze. “Why don’t we do this? Let’s table the discussion for tonight. We can wait and see how things go tomorrow when the article comes out.”

“Okay.” He grabbed the reprieve, weary of arguing with her when all he really wanted to do was hold her close, to bury himself in her soft warmth and make the hard, dark world outside the two of them disappear.

“Let’s just have a nice, quiet evening, okay?” She tugged his hand, pulling him down the hall to the den. She let go long enough to drop on to the sofa and pat the cushion beside her. “Let’s see if we can find a movie on TV. Something funny.”

He handed her the remote, content to let her choose. She found something old, in black and white. Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn and a leopard. He paid little attention to the story, content to listen to Hannah’s peals of laughter and the feel of her warm and solid beside him.

Three more days alone in this house with Hannah was a lifetime.

And not nearly long enough.

THE ARTICLE IN THE JACKSON paper was exactly what Hannah had hoped for, although she could tell from the grim look on Riley’s face that he thought she’d gone too far.

“Look at it this way,” she said as they walked down to the stable after breakfast, “if it grabs the killer’s attention, then maybe he won’t be out hunting for another woman to kill just to prove a point to us.”

“Yeah, he’ll just be looking to kill you.”

“And you’ll be there to stop him,” she said firmly, refusing to allow the little knot of terror tap dancing in her belly to win the battle.

“It doesn’t always work that way.” The stricken tone of Riley’s voice caught her by surprise.

“I know,” she relented, stopping halfway to the stable to take his hand. He turned to look at her, his eyes shadowy beneath the brim of his hat.

“I’ve been after this guy for three years. God knows how many more years he’s been killing women that we don’t even know about.” Riley’s fingers tightened around hers. “I couldn’t stop him from killing those other women.” His voice grew a notch fainter. “I didn’t stop him from killing Emily.”

“How were you supposed to do that?” Hannah asked, torn between wanting to hug him and wanting to shake him. “Drive her to work every day? God, Riley, you sound just like that guy at the gas station!”

Riley’s brow wrinkled. “What guy at the gas station?”

Hannah blinked, surprised by the question, until she realized she’d never mentioned the man she’d run into at the gas station on Highway 287. In fact, until this moment, she hadn’t remembered him at all. “He was at the other pump-at that station on 287. He was filling up his car, and he saw the rental-car plate. Said I was brave to drive around all by myself in a strange place. Only, I could tell he really meant I was stupid to be traveling alone.”

“Did he say anything else?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. He finished by then and drove off.”

“Did you get a good look at him?”

“Not really-there was a pump between us, and he had a hat on, and sunglasses.” She frowned. “You think he might be the guy who pulled me over?”

“I don’t know. Was he in a car or a truck?”

“A car.” It had been a dark sedan, but beyond that, she couldn’t really remember anything. “I guess it could have been the same car. I really don’t remember much but the flashing blue light, to be honest.”

He laid his palm against her cheek. “It’s something new. Joe’s got someone going through the receipts from the gas station. If he paid with a credit or debit card, we’ll know who he is soon.” He dropped his hand and headed for the stable.

She followed, her mind reeling. Had she actually spoken to the killer that day at the gas station?

Had that one simple exchange marked her for death?