The Lawman's Second Chance. Ruth Herne Logan

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      Chapter Four

      Sixteen hours ago, Lisa was pretty sure she wouldn’t see Alex again unless they passed on the streets of Jamison.

      And here he was, a purposeful stride marking the reason for his visit. He looked...vigorous. Masterful. And completely unavailable.

      Lisa trained her gaze on the slightly smaller, older man to Alex’s left. He stuck out a hand, first to her, then her father. “I’m Jack Samson. This is Lt. Steele.” He jerked his chin in Alex’s direction.

      Ozzie nodded, polite, then shook Alex’s hand.

      Lisa kept her gaze averted. The last thing she wanted to see was Alex’s pity. Or fear. Or repugnance. Therefore she wouldn’t look.

      “So, what’s missing exactly?” Jack flipped open a small notebook and withdrew a pen.

      “Our three-year-old Bobcat and a brand-new zero-turn mower.”

      Jack whistled and arched a brow. “Ouch.”

      “And then some,” Ozzie agreed.

      Alex said nothing, but Lisa felt his gaze. She ignored the heat from his soul-searching gray eyes and reached across her desk. “Here are pictures of both.” She handed them over. The Bobcat was a simple advertising photo showing the T190 in all its pricey glory.

      Alex eyed the small tractor and grimaced. “This baby is nearly thirty grand new, isn’t it?”

      “Yes.” Lisa replied without looking at him, but inside she wondered what he was thinking. How did she appear now that he knew she’d had cancer? That she’d gone through the same round of treatments his wife had endured with one major difference. Lisa was here to talk about it.

      “And the mower?”

      “It retails around seventy-five hundred new and we’ve only had it six weeks.”

      “Show me where they were parked, Lisa.”

      Her heart stammered.

      Her pulse climbed.

      She had to turn then, because Alex spoke directly to her. The take-command note in his voice said he’d done it intentionally, but Lisa didn’t take orders well. Or shift gears quickly. Until he’d walked through the office door moments ago, she’d shoved aside the needle-sharp brush-off he’d given her the previous day. At this moment, every fiber of her being wanted to shout at him, at cancer, at the unfairness of life in general. But she’d dismissed hissy fits as a pointless exercise years ago.

      “I’ll show you.” She avoided eye contact by leading the way to the mulching/stone area. The narrow display paths didn’t allow the whole group to walk together. Jack and her father eased back.

      Alex fell into step with her.

      Was that chance? Circumstance? Planned?

      It didn’t matter. She had health issues he’d faced and lost. End of story. Except his sidelong glances said the story might not be over.

      But it was.

      The fact that he smelled soap-and-water fresh made him seem approachable.

      He wasn’t.

      She’d seen that yesterday and his reaction to her battle dredged up too many memories of Evan’s recalcitrance. Lisa had no intention of stepping before the firing squad of rejection a second time. The first time had been circumstantial.

      This would be deliberate. Therefore, stupid.

      “They were parked back here yesterday.” Ozzie’s voice held regret. He ran a hand through his thinning hair. “Adam’s told me time and again to be more careful and I shrugged it off.” His pained look underscored his feelings. “I never thought someone would just pull in here and grab stuff while we slept right over there.”

      Alex eyed the distance from the house to the barn. “Aren’t the newer Bobcats keyless, sir?”

      Lisa cleared her throat.

      Ozzie scowled. “Yes. I converted the starter because the keyless entry was a pain in the neck. But then if I kept the keys in my pocket, people had to come find me every time they needed to shift something.”

      “So you left them in the equipment.” Alex’s observation held no judgment, but he quirked a smile to the older man, just enough to say he understood. “Adam will have a field day with that, sir.”

      “Already did,” Ozzie agreed, looking pained.

      Alex could tell that Lisa’s father was a great guy, not like that was a surprise. He’d known Adam for months. And now Lisa...

      He longed to pretend she wasn’t there, a few feet to his left.

      He couldn’t.

      He wished he could turn back the clock sixteen hours and banter with her. Watch the way the sun danced off those dark curls, hear her heartfelt laughter with the girls.

      That wouldn’t happen, either. His fault. But right now he had a job to do and that included keeping her safe. The thought that someone targeted her spiked his protective side. He swept a quick glance over the house and business. “Whoever it was knew what they wanted. And when and how.” He stared at the ground, then moved down the stone lot surrounding the barn. “It appears he came in along the grass to keep the noise minimal. And with the increase of traffic on the Interstate this time of year, we get used to engine noise and tune it out. It’s especially easy when you have fans or air conditioners running.”

      “Frogs,” Lisa interjected.

      Jack nodded. “Peepers.”

      “Yes,” Lisa agreed.

      “In English, Jack.” Alex had no clue what they were talking about, and he couldn’t bark at Lisa so Jack made a handy target.

      “Lisa’s ponds. The trees surrounding the house and barns. The water spillways she’s created and the state-designated wetlands are over there. You could drive heavy equipment up and down this field at night right now, and no one would likely hear it. The frogs and spring peepers are that loud.”

      Alex shifted his gaze to Lisa. A tiny smile softened her jaw...a sweet, touchable jaw that could go stubborn in a flash. “He’s not serious. Is he?”

      She answered, but didn’t turn away from Jack. “He is. So hearing anything even with windows open is unlikely in May.”

      Concern climbed a notch higher. “You don’t leave the windows open at night, do you? The correct response would be ‘no.’”

      “To cool things down as the days get hotter. Of course we do.” She shrugged, ignoring his concerns as if he hadn’t dealt with every level of crime imaginable for the last fifteen years. “And last night was the first bogeyman in thirty-plus years, so I think the odds are with us.”

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