The Lawman's Christmas Wish. Линда Гуднайт

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      “This isn’t the first time, Amy. Somebody will do anything to get their hands on that treasure of yours.”

      “I know.” Her reply was quiet and reflective as she gazed off toward the mountains to the west. He knew she was remembering the day they’d finally found Mack Tanner’s buried treasure chest. A pair of gun-toting thieves had found it at the same time.

      He’d nearly had a heart attack when one of the thugs shoved a pistol against Amy’s temple. If not for Tucker Lawson’s help Amy could have been killed. That moment haunted his dreams.

      Since this frenzy over buried treasure began he’d not had a moment of peace. Even though the heavy metal box was locked up in the safe in his office only he and Amy had that information.

      The town’s excitement wasn’t helping, either. “Last rumor I heard down at the Lizbet’s Diner estimates the contents of that box at over a million dollars.”

      Amy’s eyes widened. “What? Reed, that’s crazy. We don’t even know what’s in the box yet.”

      “Tell me about it. The price goes up every day.” Grimly, he perched a hand on the butt of his service pistol. Until lately, he’d never worn it. Didn’t need to. His adopted town was a peace-loving place, filled with good people. Mostly. “Men have killed for a lot less.”

      Amy had this crazy idea to wait until Christmas Eve, still four weeks away, to open the chest and present the treasure to the town. He understood in part because the town coffers were empty, and they needed money badly. The schools were in danger of consolidation, the library in danger of closing. Even his office budget was tighter than tree bark.

      “You should open the treasure and be done with it,” he said.

      Amy took exception. “No! Treasure Creek has faced such difficult times these last couple of years. Thinking about this treasure and speculating about the good it will do for the town has lifted everyone’s spirits. I will not allow low-life scums to rob us of the best Christmas possible.”

      Reed suppressed a sigh. He knew she’d say that. This was Amy, as tenacious as Alaskan winter and with a heart as big as the sun. All of Treasure Creek leaned on her, and she let them, encouraged them. Even though she was barely into her thirties, she carried a whole town on her small shoulders.

      A man had to admire a woman like that.

      But for the chief of police, Christmas couldn’t come soon enough. Once the treasure chest was opened, maybe life would settle down and Amy would be safe again. Really safe.

      He started up the drive. “I better have a look inside.”

      “I’ll go with you.”

      “You and the kids stay out here.”

      “No way. If anyone was inside, they’re probably long gone, but they also might be lurking in the bushes. I’ll take my chances in the house with you.”

      Reed thought Amy might have just paid him a compliment. Though he’d rather she was somewhere safer, her logic made sense. An intruder could just as easily be outside as in. And Reed had the advantage of a loaded pistol.

      They fell in step. As they passed Amy’s vehicle, her two little boys tumbled out and followed.

      “Chief Reed, someone broke our stuff.”

      Reed gazed down at the knee-high child. Dexter’s little head was tilted back, looking up with big gray eyes that trusted the police to do something. Police business Reed could handle, but kids were a puzzle. “Don’t be scared.”

      It was a lame thing to say, but Dexter seemed okay with it. Like his mother, the child bowed his head, shoved his hands in his coat pockets and traipsed across the yard, ready to face whatever was inside the house. Three-year-old Sammy, though, clung to his mother’s hand and stayed as close to her as possible. Reed couldn’t help feeling sorry for the little guy.

      They reached the back door and Reed thrust out an arm to stop them from entering. “Lock’s jimmied. Was the door open when you arrived?”

      Amy nodded. “Yes.”

      Incredulous, he stared down into eyes bluer than arctic waters. His gut did that weird clutching thing again. “And you went inside anyway?”

      “This is Treasure Creek. I never used to lock my doors at all. You know how out of square this old house is. I thought maybe I’d forgotten to shut the door hard enough this morning before I went to the office.”

      A reasonable explanation, but he still didn’t like the idea that she’d gone inside. If something happened to her—well, he felt guilty enough about the way Ben died without letting him down again.

      “Let me go in first. You and the boys stay close until I check all the rooms.”

      Amy scooped Sammy onto her hip and held Dexter’s hand, doing as Reed asked without comment. The break-in had shaken her more than she wanted to admit.

      It had shaken him, too.

      Together they made the rounds downstairs. Amy remained tight-lipped, but her pallor told how upset she was. They bumped in a doorway and it was all he could do to keep from pulling her close for a moment, to tell her everything would be all right, to erase the lines of worry around her beautiful eyes.

      Reed slapped the impulse away. This was Ben’s wife. She was his responsibility, not his woman.

      “What a mess,” he grumbled, mostly to break his troubling train of thought, but furious, too, at whoever had done this.

      “Upstairs next. Me first.”

      Whoever had been here was gone now. His gut instinct told him as much, but he was taking no chances.

      As they started up, he reached out and took Sammy into his arms. The kid was barely three, but Amy wasn’t as big as a house cat.

      “I carry him all the time, Reed.”

      He just grunted and started climbing, his boots ringing hollow on the wooden steps. Lugging Sammy up the stairs was too much for her, whether she wanted to admit it or not. At the top, he returned the boy to his mother, needing to be alert and prepared in case of a nasty surprise.

      “My room is here,” she said, pointing to a green-paneled door. “I dread looking in there.”

      Reed bit down on his back teeth. He dreaded looking in there, too, but for more reasons than the break-in. Something about entering the bedroom that Amy and Ben had shared made him uncomfortable.

      But he was a police officer. This was his job.

      “Stay put. I’ll look.”

      With the flat of his hand, he eased the door open and glanced inside. Anger bubbled up like a hot fountain. Ben had worked his tail off on this house. Reed knew, because he’d helped him. And now, like the rest of the house, the beige-and-blue bedroom was in shambles. Papers, books, clothes and toiletries were strewn everywhere. A lamp lay on the bed, the bulb broken and the shade crumpled. The room was as cold as the outside.

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