Snowbound Suspicion. Cindi Myers

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СКАЧАТЬ He set the cooler in front of a French-door refrigerator and started to open it. “I’ll put everything away myself,” Bette said, rushing forward. “Thank you.”

      He straightened. “Okay,” he said, then shrugged out of the duster to reveal a snap-button chamois shirt the color of light brown sugar that stretched over impressive shoulders. Well-fitting faded Wranglers and scuffed brown boots completed the outfit. Her gaze shifted to the gun in a holster on his hip. Discreet, but unmistakable. He put a hand to the gun. “I probably don’t need this here,” he said. “But habits die hard. I’d feel kind of naked without it.”

      His word choice created a disturbing picture. She turned away, hoping he wouldn’t notice her reaction. “How was your drive from Denver?” he asked. “You’re lucky you made it through. The pass has been closed.”

      “I know,” she said. “I’ve been watching for my chance to get here.” She leaned back against the kitchen island, arms folded. “The drive wasn’t too bad. Are you in the wedding?”

      “One of the groomsmen.” He reached past her to pluck a grape from a bunch in a bowl on the island and she caught the clean aroma of shaving cream and fabric softener. “I took vacation to come up here early, thinking Travis and I could hang out before he tied the knot—but he’s been working overtime on this serial killer case.”

      “Serial killer? Here?” Eagle Mountain was such a small town, and so remote. What would a serial killer be doing here?

      “You didn’t know? It’s been all over the news.”

      “I don’t pay much attention to the news.” She had been too focused on preparing to come here.

      “Three women have been murdered so far—one right here on the ranch.” He popped a grape in his mouth and crunched down on it. “Be careful if you go anywhere by yourself.”

      “I’ll keep that in mind.”

      “I’m surprised Lacy didn’t mention it to you, but then, maybe she didn’t want to frighten you away.”

      She met his gaze with a hard look of her own. “I don’t frighten easily, Marshal Rankin.”

      “Aw, call me Cody. We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other these next two weeks.” He popped another grape in his mouth and crunched. “Now that you’ve arrived, the time here is going to be a lot less dull.”

      And just what did he mean by that? “I came here to work,” she said. Not only had Lacy hired her to cater for the wedding, she was also preparing food for a bridesmaids’ tea and the rehearsal dinner.

      “If you need a sous chef, I’m your man.” He straightened. “Seriously, I’m bored out of my gourd, with Travis working all the time. I’m not used to being this idle. My job is pretty intense, high-energy stuff—pursuing fugitives, most of whom don’t want to be caught.”

      Bette was well aware of what US marshals did—she wasn’t likely to ever forget being tackled by one and dragged, handcuffed, into a waiting car. How long into her visit to the ranch before Cody Rankin figured out her history? One phone call to his office was all it would take to get the whole sordid tale. Or he could just ask his friend Travis. Bette assumed Lacy had told her fiancé about her background. Yet he had agreed to let her come to his home and cater his wedding anyway. Now, that was true love.

      A door at the opposite end of the room opened, ushering in a blast of cold air and a tall, angular woman wrapped in a blue wool coat. She stopped short upon seeing them. “Marshal Rankin.” She nodded to Cody, then her bird-like eyes shifted to Bette. “Who are you?”

      “I’m the caterer—Bette Fuller.” Bette started around the island toward the woman, but the woman took a step back.

      “I’m Rainey,” she said. “And I’m in charge of the kitchen here. I told Travis he didn’t need to hire a caterer. I’m perfectly capable of providing anything they need in the way of food—I’ve been doing it for years. But I guess brides these days want to be able to say they’ve had their wedding ‘catered’ by a ‘chef.’” She sniffed. “Just stay out of my way when it comes to preparing regular meals. I have all the help I need from my son.” She looked back over her shoulder. “Doug! Come in here!”

      A man Bette judged to be in his late twenties or early thirties, his head engulfed in a fur cap with earflaps, shuffled into the kitchen, half a dozen plastic shopping bags suspended from each hand. He stopped short when he saw Bette. “Hello,” he said, his eyes meeting hers, then darting away.

      “This is my son, Doug,” Rainey said. “He’s been to culinary school and plans to open his own restaurant soon, though for the time being he’s helping me here at the ranch. The two of us could have provided anything the Walkers need for the wedding.”

      Well, Bette certainly didn’t have to wonder what Rainey thought about her being here. “I’ll try to stay out of your way,” she said. “I have some things that need to go in the refrigerator.” She indicated the cooler.

      “Not in here. Put them in the other refrigerator, in the garage.” She jerked her head toward a door at the side of the room. “Doug, show her where to put her stuff.”

      But Doug had disappeared, the back door slamming behind him.

      “I’ll show you.” Cody shrugged back into his duster, then picked up the cooler. “Nice seeing you again, Rainey,” he called over his shoulder. “That omelet you made me for breakfast was divine.”

      Bette said nothing until they were in the garage, in front of an older-model—but still very high-end—refrigerator. She opened the door and surveyed the contents, which appeared to consist mostly of bottles of beer and a large cardboard box labeled Venison Sticks. Cody reached past her and helped himself to one of the sticks, which resembled a very thin frankfurter. “These are excellent,” he said, tearing open the wrapper. “Travis’s dad makes them, from venison he harvests himself.”

      Bette nodded and rearranged some of the beer bottles to make room for her chocolate and fondant. “I can see dealing with Rainey is going to be a barrel of laughs.”

      “Ignore her.” Cody held the top of the cooler open for her. “Lacy and Travis want you here, and that’s all that matters.”

      “Oh, I won’t let her get to me,” Bette said. “I’ve dealt with worse.” Some of the guards at the Denver Women’s Correctional Facility would have made Rainey look like a creampuff. She stowed the last of the items in the refrigerator and shut the door. “Are Mr. and Mrs. Walker around? I’d like to find out where I’m staying.”

      “They headed to Junction while the pass is open,” Cody said. “Rainey might know.” He looked doubtful.

      Bette laughed. “If it was up to her, she’d put me in a horse stall or something.” She shut the lid of the cooler. “No, I can wait until Lacy shows up.”

      She started to pick up the empty cooler, but Cody swiped it from her. She shrugged. If he wanted to tote her belongings for her, let him. It didn’t mean she owed him anything.

      Instead of heading back into the kitchen, he led the way out of the garage and around to the front of the house. “Okay if I leave the cooler out here?” he asked, indicating a spot on the covered front porch near the door.

      “That’s СКАЧАТЬ