Branded by the Sheriff. Delores Fossen

snarky question. “It’s possible. Darin isn’t that organized.”

      Or that bright. The man was too scatterbrained and perhaps too mentally ill to have conceived a plan to murder two women without witnesses or physical evidence to link him to the crimes. And there was plenty of potential for physical evidence since both victims had been first shot with tranquilizer darts and then strangled. Darin didn’t impress him as the sort of man who could carry out multistep murders or remember to wear latex gloves when strangling his victims.

      Beck heard an odd sound and risked looking in her direction. She was dressed, thank goodness, in black pants and a taupe sweater. Simple but classy.

      The sound had come from her kneeling to open a suitcase. She pulled out a pair of flat black shoes and slipped them on. Faith also took out a plush armadillo before standing, and she clutched onto it when she faced him head-on. She was about five-six. A good eight inches shorter than he was, and with the flats, Beck felt as if he towered over her.

      “My brother has problems,” she said as if being extra mindful of her word choice. “I don’t need to tell you that we didn’t have a stellar upbringing, and it affected Darin in a negative way.”

      It was the old bad blood between them that made him want to remind her that her family was responsible for the poor choices they’d made over the years.

      Including what happened that December night ten years ago.

      Even now, all these years later, Beck could still see Faith coming out of the Sound End motel with his drunk brother and shoving him into her car. She, however, had been as sober as a judge. Beck should know since, as a deputy at that time, he’d been the one to give her a Breathalyzer. She’d denied having sex with his brother, but there’d been a lot of evidence to the contrary, including his own brother’s statement.

      “You got something to say to me?” Faith challenged.

      Not now. It could wait.

      Instead, he glanced at the stuffed baby armadillo. It had a tag from a gift shop in the Austin airport and sported a pink bow around its neck. “I heard you had a baby.” Because he was feeling ornery, he glanced at her bare ring finger.

      “Yes.” Those copper eyes drilled into him. “She’s sixteen months old. And, no, I’m not married.” The corner of her mouth lifted. Not a smile of humor though. “I guess that just confirms your opinion that I have questionable morals.”

      He lifted a shoulder and let it stand as his response about that. “You think it’s wise to bring a child to LaMesa Springs with a killer at large?”

      She mimicked him by lifting her own shoulder, and she let the seconds drag on several moments before she continued. “I have a security company rep coming out first thing in the morning to install some equipment. Once he’s finished, I’ll call the nanny and have her bring my daughter. We’ll stay at the hotel until I have some other repairs and updates done to the house.” She glanced around the austere room before her gaze came back to his. “I intend to make this place a home for her.”

      That’s what Beck was afraid she was going to say. This wasn’t just about her new job. It was Faith Matthews’s homecoming. Something he’d dreaded for ten years. “Even with all the bad memories, you still want to be here?”

      Her mouth quivered. “Ah. Is this the part where you tell me I should think of living elsewhere? That I’m not welcome here in your town?”

      He took a moment with his word selection as well. “You being here will make it hard for my family.”

      She had the decency to look uncomfortable about that. “I wish I could change that.” And she sounded sincere. “But I can’t go back and undo history. I can only move forward, and being assistant DA is a dream job for me. I won’t walk away from that just because the Tanners don’t want me here.”

      He could tell from the resolve in her eyes that he wasn’t going to change her mind. Not that he thought he could anyway. At least he’d gotten his point across that there was still a lot of water under the bridge that his brother and she had built ten years ago in that motel.

      But there was another point he had to make. “Even with security measures, it might not be safe for you or your daughter. The man who killed your mother and sister is still out there.”

      Oh, she was about to disagree. He could almost hear the argument they were about to have. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. A little air clearing. Except the old stench was so thick between them that it’d take more than an argument to clear it.

      She opened her mouth. At the exact moment that Beck caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

      Outside the window.

      Front yard.

      Going on gut instinct, Beck dove at Faith and tackled her onto the bed. He lifted his head and saw the shadowy figure. And worse, it looked as if their visitor had a gun pointed right at Faith and him.

       Chapter Two

      Faith managed a muffled gasp, but she couldn’t ask Beck what the heck was going on. The tackle onto the bed knocked the breath from her.

      She fought for air and failed. Beck had her pinned down. He was literally lying on her back, and his solid weight pushed her chest right into the hard mattress.

      “Someone’s out there,” Beck warned. “I think he had a gun.”

      Just like that, she stopped struggling and considered who might be out there. None of the scenarios that came to mind were good. It was too late and too cold for a neighbor to drop by. Besides, she didn’t have any nearby neighbors, especially anyone who’d want to pay her a friendly visit. Plus, there was Beck’s reaction. He obviously thought this might turn dangerous.

      She didn’t have to wait long for that to be confirmed.

      A sound blasted through the room. Shattering glass. A split-second later, something thudded onto the floor.

      “A rock,” Beck let her know.

      A rock. Not exactly lethal in itself, but the person who’d thrown it could be a threat. And he might have a weapon.

      Who had done this?

      Better yet, why was Beckett Tanner sheltering her? He had put himself in between her and potential danger, and once she could breathe, Faith figured that maneuver would make more sense than it did now.

      Because there was no chance he’d put himself in real harm’s way to protect her.

      “Get under the bed,” Beck ordered. “And stay there.”

      He rolled off her, still keeping his body between her and the window. Starved for air, Faith dragged in an urgent breath and scrambled to the back side of the mattress so she could drop to the floor. She crawled beneath the bed amid dust bunnies and a few dead roaches.

      Staying here tonight, alone, had obviously not been a good idea.

      Worse, Faith didn’t know why she’d decided at the last minute to stay. Her plan had been to check in to the hotel, to wait for the renovations to be complete and for the new furniture to arrive. But after stepping inside, she thought it was best to exorcise a few demons before trying to make the place “normal.” So she’d sent the cab driver on his way, made a fire to warm up the place and got ready for bed.

      Now someone had hurled a rock through her window.

      There was another crashing sound. Another spray of glass. Another thud. Her stomach tightened into an acidy knot.

      Beck got off the bed as well. Dropping onto the floor and staying low, he scurried to what was left of the window and peeked out.

      “Can you see who’s out there?” she asked.

      He didn’t answer her, but he did take