Safety in Numbers. Carla Cassidy

      “What’s his story? He’s not part of the family, right?” Although Chase had no idea what financial benefit Smokey Johnson might get from conspiring with MoTwin, he knew that not all motives revolved around money.

      “He’s family. He might as well have been born a West,” Meredith replied. “He worked as the ranch manager for years, then took a nasty spill from a horse and crushed his leg. He was still healing from that when my mother was murdered.”

      “That must have been tough on everyone.” He watched the play of emotions that crossed her features, a flash of pain, a twist of anger, then finally the smooth transition into a weary acceptance. She’d be an easy mark at cards. She didn’t have much of a poker face.

      “From what I understand, my father was devastated. He and my mother had one of those loves that you only read about in novels. They were best friends and soul mates and Dad crawled deep into his grief. Smokey stepped in to help with all of us kids and he never left. He’s a combination of a drill sergeant and a beloved uncle.”

      She pulled into a parking space in front of the Wild West Protective Services office. She shut off the car engine and unbuckled her seat belt. “Why don’t I meet you back here around noon and we’ll head back to the ranch.”

      “Why don’t we meet back here at noon and I’ll buy us lunch at the café;?”

      She looked at him in surprise. “Why would you want to do that?”

      “Why wouldn’t I?” he countered. “It’s not every day I get the opportunity to buy lunch for a pretty lady.” He watched her, fascinated by the pink blush that swept into her cheeks.

      “I guess it would be all right to have lunch before we head back,” she replied.

      They got out of her car and she murmured goodbye, then headed across the street. “What are you doing, Chase,” he muttered to himself as he watched her walk away.

      Once again, she was dressed in an old flannel shirt and a pair of worn jeans. She intrigued him. She acted and dressed like a woman who didn’t much care about a man’s attention, and yet the blush that had colored her cheeks had spoken otherwise.

      She was unlike any woman he’d ever been around before. Most of the women he dated were girly girls, high-maintenance savvy singles who cared even less about a committed relationship than he did. Meredith West blushed like a woman who wasn’t accustomed to compliments or attention.

      He watched until she disappeared into a storefront, then he turned and went into the Wild West Protective Services office.

      “I don’t care how difficult the client is,” Dalton said into the phone receiver as he raised a hand in greeting to Chase. “You do what you have to do to make this right. You know how to do your job, just do it and try not to make people angry.” He hung up the phone with a groan. “I think sometimes it’s easier to have a boss than to be one.”

      Chase sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk and grinned at his friend. “As one who has a boss instead of being one, I’d argue the fact with you.”

      Dalton laughed and leaned forward in his chair. “How about one night you and I make plans to shoot some pool and drink a few beers?”

      “Sounds good to me,” Chase agreed. Maybe knocking back a few brews would get thoughts of Meredith West out of his head.

      The two men visited for a few minutes, then Dalton got another phone call and Chase left the office to wander the sidewalks and see what kind of vibes he picked up.

      Being around Dalton was almost as difficult as being with Meredith. The deception of his friend didn’t sit well. But Chase had a job to do and work had always been the one thing he could depend on, the only thing he clung to.

      Cotter Creek was a pleasant little town with sidewalks and shade trees running the length of Main Street. Benches every twenty feet or so welcomed people to sit a spell.

      An old man sat on the bench outside the barbershop, his weatherworn face showing no emotion as Chase sat on the opposite end of the bench.

      “Nice day,” Chase said.

      “Seen better,” the old man replied.

      “My name’s Chase, I’m here in town visiting the West family.”

      “Too many strangers popping up here in Cotter Creek for my comfort and I’m Sam Rhenquist.”

      Chase leaned back against the bench. “Nice town.”

      “Used to be. Lately everybody’s been looking cross-eyed at each other, wondering who might be guilty of some things that have happened around here.” Rhenquist eyed him with a touch of suspicion and clamped his mouth closed, as if irritated that he’d said too much.

      For the next few minutes Chase tried some small talk, but the old man was having nothing to do with it. Finally Chase rose, said goodbye and headed down the sidewalk with no particular destination in mind.

      He knew the best place to pick up information would be the café; or wherever Dalton intended to take him for the night of beer and pool. People talked when they ate, and people really talked when they drank. No telling what little tidbit he’d be able to pick up that might help the investigation.

      Eventually he wanted to touch base with Bill Wallace and Roger Tompkins, the two agents who were actively working the case here in town. He wanted to know who they had in their radar and what they might have discovered in the brief time they’d been in town.

      It didn’t take him long to walk the length of the businesses on Main Street, then he crossed the street and headed back the way he’d come on the opposite side of the street. As he walked, his mind whirled.

      He’d already learned two important things since arriving in town. The first was that Meredith West was sharp and he’d have to be more subtle with his questions than he’d been when they’d gone to the stables that morning.

      The second was that for some crazy reason he was intensely attracted to the tall, dark-haired woman. If he allowed that attraction to get out of hand, he’d risk complicating his job here.

      He’d share a simple lunch with her, then head out to the ranch and hope that Kathy had managed to glean some sort of helpful information about the rest of the West family.

      He made it back to Meredith’s car and leaned against the driver’s side to wait for Meredith to return from whatever she was doing. It was damned inconvenient not to have a car at his disposal.

      It had been Kathy’s idea to ride the bus into town. She’d thought being at the mercy of the West family for transportation would afford them more time to chat with the various members of the clan.

      He should have put his foot down and told her it was a dumb idea, but he found it difficult to argue with Kathy about anything. Those twinkling blue eyes and sweet smile of hers hid a stubborn streak that always surprised him.

      He straightened as he saw Meredith in the distance coming toward him. As she drew closer, he realized she looked different…softer…more feminine. It took him a minute to realize it was her hair.

      Where before it had hung without rhyme, without reason in various lengths, it now feathered around her face, emphasizing the classic beauty of her features. She carried with her a large file folder bound with several rubber bands.

      “Wow,” he said when she was close enough to hear him.

      Her cheeks reddened slightly and she reached up to self-consciously touch a strand of her hair. “It’s just a haircut,” she said with a touch of belligerence.

      “No, it’s more than that. It’s a total transformation,” he replied.

      “It’s not a big deal,” she replied, obviously not wanting him to make it a big deal. “You ready for lunch?”

      He nodded. “What have you got there?”

      “Just