The Lawman Returns. Lynette Eason

      “Will do.”

      She hung up.

      A low wail from inside the trailer reached her ears. She gasped. A baby crying? Or at least a young child. Or was it some sort of animal?

      Oh, Lord, please tell me what to do.

      She lifted her chin. Only one thing to do when no one answered the door and she thought a kid might need help.

      She twisted the knob and felt her heart sink.

      The door was locked.

      She’d spun to head back to her car to find out where her backup was when a loud crack sounded, followed by a thud near her left ear.

      Sabrina froze for a split second. Had someone just shot at her?

      * * *

      Sheriff’s deputy Clay Starke wheeled to a stop in front of the beat-up trailer. He heard the sharp crack and saw the side of the trailer spit metal.

      A shooter.

      The woman on the porch careened down the steps and bolted toward him. Terror radiated from her, spiking his adrenaline. He shoved open the door to the passenger side. “Get in!”

      Breathless, she landed in the passenger seat and slammed the door. Eyes wide, pupils dark black holes in the blue surrounding them, she lifted shaking hands to push her blond hair out of her eyes.

      Clay got on his radio and reported shots fired at the Prescott trailer.

      He glanced through the back of the squad car. If someone was shooting, they needed to be somewhere else. He cranked the car and started to back out of the drive.

      She grabbed his arm. “No! We can’t leave!”

      “What?” He stepped on the brakes. “Lady, if someone’s shooting, I’m getting you out of here.”

      She whirled to look out the back, then whipped around to stare at the trailer. “But I think Jordan’s in there and I can’t leave without him.”

      “Jordan?”

      “A boy I work with. He called me for help. He sounded scared. I’m worried he might be hurt.”

      Clay put the car back in Park. “Then stay down and let me check it out.”

      She grabbed his arm. “But if you get out, he might shoot you.”

      That would definitely ruin his day, but if a kid was in trouble...

      He waited. No more shots. “Stay put. I think he might be gone.”

      “Or waiting for one of us to get out of the car.”

      True. He could feel her gaze on him, studying him, dissecting him. He frowned. “What is it?”

      “You.”

      He shot a glance behind them, then let his eyes rove the area until he’d gone in a full circle and was once again looking into her pretty face. “What about me?”

      Red crept into her cheeks. “You look so much like Steven. Are you his brother?”

      He stilled, focusing in on her. “I’m Clay Starke. You knew my brother?”

      “Clay? I’m Sabrina Mayfield. Steven and I were good friends. He talked about you so often, I feel like I know you well.”

      Sabrina Mayfield. Wow. “We’ll have to catch up later. Can you give me details about what’s going on here?”

      “One of my clients called me. He doesn’t actually live here, but this is where he asked me to meet him.” She met his gaze. “I don’t know what he’s doing here, but he said he thought he knew who killed Steven and he needed me to come get him.”

      Shock raced through Clay. Finally. After weeks with nothing, this could be the break he’d been looking for. “Then I want to know what he knows.”

      “Well, we have to find him first.” She paused and looked out the window. “Without getting shot, preferably.”

      Clay checked in with backup. “What’s your ETA?”

      “Five minutes.”

      Clay stiffened. “Why so long? I’ve got a possible shooter here!”

      “Car wreck on I-40. Fatalities involved. All units responded. Now I’ve got two heading your way as fast as they can. More coming ASAP. Sit tight and don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

      Right. He’d heard the car-wreck call but hadn’t thought about it, since he’d already had his assignment.

      And there hadn’t been any reports of shots when he’d gotten it. Great. He had a possible shooter and was on his own with a woman and a possible kid to protect.

      “I didn’t realize you were back,” Sabrina said. Her voice quivered and she clasped her hands together in front of her. “Steven said you were really busy in Nashville. That you’d just passed your detective’s exam.” She seemed to want to talk about anything but what had happened. What might still be happening.

      Her way of coping, probably.

      “Yes.” He forced the word from his tight throat as guilt ate at him. He should have come home when Steven called him. But he hadn’t, and his brother had died. Now Clay was home to find out who’d killed him. His first week back in Wrangler’s Corner he’d attended his brother’s funeral. The second week had consisted of the sheriff, Ned Anderson, convincing him he needed to take the now-open deputy position. The past two weeks had been spent getting into a routine. And while his main goal was to find his brother’s murderer, he’d also had to deal with ongoing family stuff.

      Clay swallowed hard and pushed Steven out of his mind. For now. He craned his neck and looked through the windows, behind, in front. “No sign of the shooter.”

      “No one’s answering the door. I think I heard a child crying.” She gripped the door handle.

      “Any shots from inside the trailer?”

      “No, but I’m afraid for Jordan. He didn’t answer the door when I knocked, but I heard...something. It was a child. I’m almost sure of it.”

      “Stay here.”

      He climbed out of the car. The trailer door opened just as he took a step. A young boy peered out. When he saw Clay, his eyes widened and he slammed the door.

      The passenger door opened, and the social worker darted toward the trailer.

      “Hey!”

      “Sorry,” she yelled over her shoulder. “That’s Tony, Jordan’s little brother.” Before he could stop her, she was back up the steps and banging on the door.

      Clay followed, expecting to hear the bark of a rifle and feel the bite of a bullet.

      He leaned around her and tried the door. “Locked.”

      “Tony! Open the door, hon!”

      He was close enough to get a whiff of a tangy orange scent that almost covered the ammonia smell. Subtle and spicy. He was also close enough to see the bullet hole in the trailer next to her head.

      He made sure he had her covered but squirmed as the middle of his back tingled. A perfect target for a shooter.

      A wailing cry split the air. Clay lifted a brow. “Okay, that’s it.” He moved around Sabrina, leaned his shoulder against the flimsy door and shoved. Hard.

      With a pop, the door swung in. Clay stepped inside and came to a stop. In the space of about half a second, he noticed two things. The stench that turned his stomach—and two pairs of bright blue eyes that met his. Two children stood at the entrance to the hallway, looking as if they were ready to bolt.

      The little girl wrapped her arms around her big brother and buried her face in his stomach, but not before Clay