The Bodyguard's Return. Carla Cassidy

coarse. He’d wondered if her full mouth would be soft and yielding beneath his or fierce and demanding?

      Those kinds of thoughts irritated him. Hadn’t he learned his lesson in New York? He focused his attention on the next piece of paper she shoved over in front of him.

      “I made a list of all the people who have died. As you can see, all of them are men,” she said.

      He read the list of names, then looked back at her. “Look, this is all very interesting, but I don’t see any big conspiracy here.”

      She frowned, her lower lip jutting out slightly in what appeared to be a small pout. “I’m not finished with all the investigating I intend to do,” she said. “Help me, Joshua. Please help me find out exactly what happened to all these men. With two of us working together it will take half the time to get some answers.”

      He leaned back in his chair and swiped a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure what the questions are that need to be asked.”

      “We need to look at each individual incident and see if there are any anomalies, anything that doesn’t fit with it being an accident. Like I said before, Gray Sampson’s death would have been ruled an accident. It wasn’t until your brother picked up the rock where Gray had supposedly fallen off his horse and hit his head and saw blood on both sides that they realized the rock had been used to bludgeon him to death.”

      She paused to draw a deep breath and he tried not to notice the rise and fall of her breasts beneath the light lavender sweater she wore.

      “As far as I’m concerned, Charlie buying ice cream an hour before he supposedly committed suicide is a huge red flag,” she continued. “Joshua, you were his friend. You should know Charlie didn’t have a suicidal bone in his body. Don’t you want to know the truth? Isn’t Charlie worth a little of your time?”

      Joshua sighed. He had to admit that the fact that Charlie bought groceries then went home and blew his brains out, didn’t make sense. Charlie’s wife Rebecca had been gone a long time and Charlie seemed to have made peace with the fact that he would live out the rest of his years alone.

      Surely if a man was going to commit suicide to be with his departed wife, he wouldn’t wait eight long years. Charlie’s suicide just didn’t make sense, although any other scenario didn’t make sense either.

      What else do you have to do with your time, a little voice whispered inside his head? He didn’t want to work the family business and he wasn’t interested in continuing as a stockbroker, but had no idea what he really wanted to do. He had nothing but time on his hands at the moment.

      “All right,” he relented after a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll do some checking into these deaths. I’ll get the accident reports and look them over.”

      “Thank you.” She smiled and he felt a jolt of heat sweep through him. She had one hell of a smile. She grabbed a sheet of paper and scribbled something then handed it to him. “That’s my phone number at Winnie’s and my cell phone number.”

      He took them reluctantly, having no intention of calling her except to tell her he’d done as she’d requested. Something about her unsettled him and the less interaction she had with him the better he’d feel. “It should just take me a day or two.” He stood, eager to be away from her with her sexy scent and heart-stopping smile.

      She handed him the papers she’d printed off and he folded them and stuck them in his back pocket. “Why did you decide to come back to Cotter Creek?” she asked, also rising. “Meredith told me you’d been doing quite well in New York.”

      I ran back home like a dog with my tail tucked between my legs. I screwed up with a relationship that turned more than ugly. The thoughts flew through his head, bringing with him the sense of failure that had ridden his shoulders since he’d made the decision to return home.

      “I missed my family. When you’re used to being surrounded by people who care about you, a place like New York City can be pretty lonely.”

      She eyed him wryly. “I doubt if a man like you had too many lonely nights.”

      “There’s a difference between being alone and being lonely.” He gestured toward the door, uncomfortable with the personal turn of the conversation.

      “Must be nice to have a loving family,” she said as she gathered her papers, then joined him at the front door.

      “You aren’t close with your family?” he asked. She stood close enough to him that he could again smell her scent, a heady fragrance that put all his nerves on alert.

      “It’s just me and my parents,” she replied. “I don’t think my mother ever recovered from the shock of not birthing a perfect blond, beautiful miniature of herself, and my father was mostly absent while I was growing up. He had to work long hours to keep my mother in baubles and bling.”

      She turned out the light, locked the door and they stepped out of the building. Night had completely fallen, but the illumination from a full moon cascaded down, painting her features in a soft, becoming light.

      “I can’t thank you enough for meeting me here tonight and listening to me.”

      “Don’t thank me yet,” he warned. “You haven’t convinced me that there’s anything ominous going on.”

      She nodded, her curls dancing with the gesture. “How are Jessie and Judd?”

      Joshua thought of the two dogs he’d brought home from Charlie’s place. “Initially they were confused and seemed depressed, but they’re beginning to settle in just fine. Smokey wasn’t thrilled that I’d brought them home.”

      She laughed, a low throaty sound. “Is that man ever happy about anything?”

      He grinned. “Smokey’s bark is definitely louder than his bite. After my mother’s death I’m not sure my father could have coped with six small children without Smokey’s help.”

      “How did that happen? I mean, where did he come from?”

      “Smokey worked as a foreman on the ranch until a terrible fall from a horse crushed his leg and left him with permanent damage. He’d just about healed from his wounds when my mother was murdered. Smokey stepped into the house as if he were born to the job.”

      “I’d love to interview him for my column. Actually, I’d love to interview you, you know, something about the return of the prodigal son.”

      “No way, I’m not interested in being interviewed. And good luck with Smokey,” he added drily. At that moment a loud bang resounded and almost simultaneously the picture window just to the right of them exploded.

      Without thought, acting only on instinct, Joshua dove toward Savannah and tackled her to the ground.