Under the Sheriff's Protection

Under the Sheriff’s Protection

Delores Fossen

MILLS & BOON

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Contents

Cover

Title Page

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

Copyright

Chapter One

“The woman should be dead,” the doctor told Sheriff Rico Geary. “Don’t know how she made it out of the creek alive. Another minute in that water, and she would have frozen to death.”

Rico heard every word the doc said, but he was multitasking. He had his phone pressed to his ear, waiting for an update from his deputy about the bodies they’d discovered at the same time as the woman.

Murdered. And in his town.

That put a tight knot in his gut. Maverick Springs was known for its cowboys, livestock and small-town living. Folks weren’t used to dealing with a double homicide. Neither was Rico. Yeah, he’d been sheriff for almost two years, since he’d moved here, and he’d dealt with some fatal car accidents. Nothing like this, though. Two strangers with no IDs. Both gunned down on the bridge by the old slaughterhouse.

“The woman has a head injury,” Dr. Cheryl Landry continued as she led Rico through the maze of hospital halls. “It’s not that serious, but I’m not sure how much info you’ll get from her.”

Rico had to get a lot from her. The rancher who’d fished her out of the ice-scabbed creek hadn’t even glimpsed her attacker when he’d responded to the woman’s cries for help. So she was probably the sole witness to the murders. Which meant it was pretty darn certain that it had been the killer who’d bashed her on the head and dumped her in the creek.

“Has she said anything?” Rico asked the doctor.

“Not really. Well, other than asking for you.”

Rico froze for a moment. “Me? She knows me?”

“Apparently. She mumbled your name several times while coming in and out of consciousness.”

That didn’t mean she knew him. His name was on the town’s welcome sign.

Rico’s deputy, Randy Wells, suddenly came back on the line, and Rico pressed his phone to his ear again. “The ME’s moving the bodies to the morgue now,” the deputy reported, “but he said those gunshot wounds to their heads were the cause of death.”

Rico had never doubted that. He’d seen the bodies before heading to the hospital to interview their possible witness. The couple had been killed at point-blank range. Close enough for the victims to have looked their killer straight in the eyes.

What Rico needed from the witness now were the names of the victims, why they’d been killed here in Maverick Springs and who the hell had killed them.

“Run their prints,” Rico reminded the deputy. Because in addition to the investigation, he had to notify their next of kin.

“What’s this woman’s name?” Rico asked the doctor, putting his phone back in his jeans pocket.

Dr. Landry stopped outside a room, and her weary eyes met Rico’s. “She doesn’t remember.”

His jaw went slack. “What do you mean she doesn’t remember?”

“Like I said, she has head injuries. A blow to the head can cause memory loss.”

That was not what he wanted to hear. He huffed, put his hand on his hips. “How long will she be like this?”

The doc shrugged. “Hard to tell. Plus, if she witnessed the murders, then she’s probably traumatized. Some people don’t want to hold onto memories like that.”

“Well, she sure as heck better hold on to these memories. I got two dead bodies on my hands.”

“I know,” Dr. Landry snapped. Then her expression softened a little. “Just go easy on her.”

Rico didn’t agree to the doc’s conditions. He couldn’t. He needed answers. Now.

He stepped into the room, and since the doc was a good foot shorter than him, he had no trouble seeing over her head. His attention landed on the woman in the hospital bed. She was on her side so he couldn’t make out much of her face, but he could see her dark blond hair, still wet from the creek. She was as pale as skim milk and on the thin side, judging from the outline of her body beneath the covers.

The woman stirred, groaning softly, and she touched her fingers to the bandage on the side of her head. Her eyes sprang open, and her gaze zoomed across the room, colliding with Rico’s.

Ah, hell.

The knot in his gut got significantly worse. “Gina?” he mumbled.

“You know her?” Dr. Landry immediately asked.

“Yeah. I know her,” Rico managed to say. Though it was hard to speak through clenched teeth. “She’s my wife.”

Chapter Two

Wife.

The way Rico had said that made her seem like some kind of disease. Gina couldn’t blame him. It’d been four years since he’d last seen her, and they hadn’t exactly parted on friendly terms. What confused her, though, was why he’d called her his wife. They’d divorced ages ago.

The doctor closed the door and walked closer to her. But not Rico. He stayed back, glaring at her with those storm-gray eyes from beneath the brim of his black Stetson. He hadn’t changed much in the past four years. Same lanky build. Same midnight-colored hair. Same cowboy clothes. Except he wasn’t just a cowboy these days. That badge pinned to his jeans meant he was sheriff of Maverick Springs.

And that meant her situation had just gone from god-awful to downright impossible.

Too bad she had to deal with impossible right now. Her head was throbbing like a toothache, and she couldn’t think through all the pain.

“Gina?” Dr. Landry looked back at Rico, her expression asking him for more information. And he gave it all right.

“Her name is Gina Blake,” he growled. “It was Gina Geary,” Rico corrected in that same ornery tone. “But I don’t know what she’s going by these days.”

“You two are…estranged?” Dr. Landry asked.

“Yeah, that’s a good word for it,” Rico bit out.

Gina almost laughed. She was betting Rico could put a lot more labels on their relationship. Like “dumb idea”. “Stupid mistake”. And for him she was probably “good riddance”. He’d no doubt put her, their whirlwind courtship and equally whirlwind marriage behind him. She had, too. For the most part, anyway. But seeing him again brought all those memories of happiness and love bubbling to the surface.

Oh, mercy.

Why did he have to be the lawman of this town? And why was she feeling more than pain searing through her head?

Because she was stupid, that’s why.

She shouldn’t be feeling anything for Rico, especially this trickle of heat that went from her aching head all the way to her toes. Rico had always had her hormonal number, and her hormones obviously hadn’t gotten the memo about him being off limits.

The doctor turned toward Gina again. No gloom and doom expression for her. She had a soft, tentative smile, like someone trying to soothe a sick child. “Gina Geary? Do you remember your name now? And do you remember Rico?”

Gina would have to lie, of course, but she didn’t get a chance to do even that. Rico came closer, his snakeskin cowboy boots thudding on the cold, gray tiles. He stared down at her.

Nope, that was a glare.

Except his glare did soften a bit when his eyes landed on her bandaged head. Judging from the way he studied it, she had to look darn bad to get that softened look.

Rico mumbled some profanity, looked away. “I need to know everything you saw at the Slaughter Creek bridge. Who were the people that were killed, and who murdered them?”

“Remember that part about going easy on her,” Dr. Landry warned him, adding a scolding glance.

A glance and a warning that Rico ignored. He leaned in closer. Until he was right in Gina’s face. So close that she caught his scent, and she silently cursed that trickle of heat that got a little hotter.

Really? She had to deal with this heat along with her life hanging by a thread?

“Well?” Rico snarled. “Who murdered them?”

“I’m sorry.” Gina didn’t have to fake the tremble in her voice. It went along with the trembling in her body. “But I can’t help you.”

It was lying time, and she prayed she was good enough to pull it off. She had no other choice.

Because telling Rico the truth would get them both killed.

Chapter Three

Rico nailed his attention on Gina. And not just on her expression but on what she’d said.

I’m sorry. But I can’t help you.

The words were right for someone with a head injury and memory loss. The injury was right, too. Around the edges of the bandage he could see a nasty bruise, the kind caused by blunt-force trauma. That definitely was the real deal.

So, if everything was right and real, why was he sure something about her was all wrong?

“You can’t help me, or you won’t?” he demanded.

Gina flinched a little. Then winced. Probably because the movement caused her head to hurt. “Can’t.”

She paused, studied him as if seeing him for the first time. She started with his Stetson and her gaze slid all the way to the rodeo buckle. Then, lower to his zipper area. It stayed there just a split-second before the color rose on her cheeks.

“I don’t remember anything that happened before I woke up in the ambulance,” she added. “Am I really your wife?”

He felt his jaw muscles tighten. “Yeah.” And that’s all he was going to say about that. No point going down that particular memory lane. “Tell me about the two dead people.”

But she didn’t get a chance to answer. There was a sharp knock at the door, and a moment later Marshal Dallas Walker stepped in. The lanky lawman’s gaze swept around the room until it landed on Gina.

“She can’t remember anything,” the doctor jumped in to say. With her palms out, she shooed them back toward the door. “And I don’t want either of you pestering her right now. In addition to that head injury, she’s dealing with an adrenaline crash.”

Rico didn’t doubt the crash, but that wouldn’t stop him from getting answers. In a minute or two, anyway. Rico wanted to hear what Dallas had to say first. The marshal motioned for Rico to step into the hall.

“Her name is Ellie Martin,” Dallas started, but his explanation ground to a quick halt as Rico shook his head.

“Then she lied about that, too.” Rico cursed and shut the door. There were people milling around so he led Dallas up the hall to talk in private. “She’s my estranged wife, and her name is Gina Blake Geary.”

Now it was Dallas’s turn to curse. “Well, whatever her name is, she’s supposed to testify against a real badass, Melvin Bowman. He’s on bail now, awaiting trial.”

Rico recognized the name. The guy was a big-time money launderer. “How the devil did Gina get mixed up with the likes of Bowman?”

“According to the FBI, she was working for Bowman at his investment company in San Antonio. She and two of her coworkers uncovered proof of his dirty dealings, and they went to the FBI. They were put in witness protection with the marshals four days ago.”

He thought of the murder victims and Gina’s head injury. That knot in Rico’s gut tightened even more. “What went wrong? Why’d the protection fail?”

“We’re not sure. Someone tasered the marshal that was guarding them, and all three witnesses disappeared from the safe house where we had them stashed. We didn’t have any idea where they were until the two bodies turned up.” Dallas paused, met Rico’s gaze. “Your estranged wife is now our best shot at finding the killer and getting Bowman convicted.”

Great. Not only was Gina back in his town, she’d brought a killer with her.

“You’ll talk to her?” Dallas asked.

“Yeah. I’ll talk to her.” Though she might not talk back. If Gina truly had amnesia, she wouldn’t even remember him. And if she was faking, then remembering him might cause her to clam up.

Rico made his way back down the hall, stopping outside Gina’s door and to pull in a deep breath. The kind of breath a man took before jumping into the middle of a fight he knew he was going to lose. He threw open the door, his attention zooming right to her bed.

Hell.

There was no sign of Dr. Landry. No sign of Gina, either. The room was empty.

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