Kansas City Cowboy. Julie Miller

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СКАЧАТЬ Vanessa prodded. “You have to give us something.”

      She looked straight into the camera beside Vanessa. “This is what I can tell you. We will find this man. The task force members investigating these crimes are top-notch specialists—the best in KCPD. I guarantee that we will not rest until this attacker is caught and arrested.”

      A commotion at the rear of the crowd diverted Vanessa’s and Gabriel Knight’s attention for a moment, but the cameras were still rolling, so Kate continued with the briefing. “Rest assured that KCPD and the commissioner’s task force are doing everything in our power to identify the attacker and ascertain whether or not this crime is related to the attack that occurred in May, or to others that have occurred in previous years.”

      The shuffling of movement and Hey’s and What the’s? in the crowd behind them finally garnered Gabriel’s and Vanessa’s attention, too.

      The spotlight faded as cameras turned to see what the fuss was about. Normally, Kate was relieved when the cameras turned away to give her the privacy she preferred, but she had to say what she was required to say. “KCPD urges the women of Kansas City to practice common safety procedures. Don’t walk alone after dark. Lock your cars and doors. Carry your keys or even pepper spray in your hand, and be sure to check under and around your vehicle before approaching it. Remember that KCPD is offering free self-protection workshops, or you can look into classes offered elsewhere. And finally we ask that everyone remain vigilant….”

      Kate’s voice tapered off as the lights followed the parting of the crowd, splitting like a crack in an icy lake, and heading straight toward her.

      “Sir, you’re gonna have to …” She thought she heard Pete Estes’s voice, but it faded into the growing buzz of the crowd.

      She spotted a cowboy hat and broad shoulders a moment before Gabriel Knight was pushed aside and a man dressed in a tan-and-brown uniform and insulated jacket stood before her. His eyes, dark like rich earth and shadowed by the brim of his hat, captured hers.

      “Who are you?” Vanessa asked beside him. “Are you connected to this investigation? Has KCPD called in outside help?”

      But the questions went unheeded as the dark focus of the man’s eyes never left Kate.

      “Are you in charge here?” His dark voice was just as coolly efficient, just as menacing, as the gun and badge next to the hand splayed at his hip.

      Rarely at a loss for words, Kate cursed the splutter of hesitation she heard in her voice. But she shook off the foolish reaction and came up with a diplomatic answer. “I’m part of the task force that’s in charge—Hey!”

      Apparently, something she’d said was good enough for him. Immune to the flash of lights and uncaring of the public recording of the scene he was making, the cowboy closed his grip around Kate’s arm and pulled her aside. If he hadn’t been wearing a badge that identified him as law enforcement, Kate might have protested further.

      “Lady, I’ve been driving ever since the report came over the wire early this morning.”

      “What report?”

      With the interview effectively ended, she quickened her pace to keep up with his long strides. And though she tugged against his hand, his hold on her never wavered.

      “What can you tell me about the woman you found in that alley?” he demanded.

      “Excuse me, but we have rules about how a press conference is conducted here in Kansas City. We also have rules about interdepartmental investigations. If you need to speak to someone about a case, then you—”

      “I’m only interested in this case.” She nearly pitched off her pumps when he abruptly stopped to test the door on a nearby storefront. That same strong hand kept her upright and pulled her inside the boutique beside him, beyond the flashes of cameras and noise of the reporters and curious onlookers. Once he released her and shooed away the store clerk who offered to help them, Kate could face him. Only then did she see the jet-black hair with shots of silver at the temples. Only then did she clearly make out the chiseled jaw and six feet or so of height. Only then did she detect the scents of leather and man and some unnamed emotion that made her back up half a step.

      “Who are you?” she asked.

      This time, he answered. “I’m sheriff of Alton County.”

      Alton County? Central Missouri? “What are you doing here …?” Temper turned to confusion. She sputtered again while her brain shifted gears. “How do you know about the murder? We haven’t even released her name to the public, pending notification of her family.”

      “You’ve notified them,” Sheriff Cowboy stated. “My name’s Boone Harrison. Jane Harrison is … was … my baby sister. I want to know who the hell killed her, and what you’re doing to find him.”

       Chapter Two

      Boone paused at the doors leading from the medical examiner’s lab into the morgue and autopsy room. He pulled off his hat, working the brim between his fingers as he looked through the glass windows to the stainless steel tables inside.

      He watched a dark-haired woman in blue scrubs and a white lab coat working beneath the bright lights at the middle table. She wore gloves and a surgical mask. And as she circled around the table, the front of her lab coat gaped open, revealing a baby bump on her belly.

      But it wasn’t the pregnant medical examiner who had his attention. He wasn’t even shocked by the tray of wicked-looking tools or the cart filled with saws and hoses, glass containers and evidence bags.

      Boone touched his fingers to the cool glass partition, wishing he could reach through the glass and erase the images before him. It wasn’t his first dead body or even his first murder. But it was his first and only baby sister lying there—her life cut short, her beautiful laugh silenced forever.

      His jaw ached with the tight clench of muscles holding back the tears and curses. And his gut was an open pit of anger, grief and failure, eating him up from the inside out.

      “You don’t have to do this, Sheriff Harrison.” The firm, slightly husky tones of the blonde woman standing beside him filtered into his brain, tossing him a lifeline back to the reality at hand. Dr. Kate Kilpatrick stood shoulder to shoulder with him, viewing the same scene he was, maintaining a calm strength he couldn’t seem to find within himself. “Certainly not right now. Give us some time to work first, and then I’ll call you. I promise.”

      He flattened his palm against the glass and pushed the swinging door open. “I need to see her.”

      Startled, the medical examiner looked up from her work. She zeroed in on Boone and straightened to attention. “You shouldn’t be in here. Hi, Kate.”

      “Sorry, Holly.” Dr. Kate’s hand on his arm slowed him a step, giving her the chance to reach the steel table before he could. “Dr. Holly Masterson-Kincaid, medical examiner. This is Sheriff Boone Harrison from Alton County.” But she wasn’t much of a wedge when it came to stopping him. Boone moved in beside her, looking down at the raven-haired woman on the table. “He believes the victim is his sister.”

      “Well, then, he really shouldn’t be in here right now.” The M.E. reached for the sheet draped at the foot of the table. “I’m just about СКАЧАТЬ