Classified Christmas. B.J. Daniels

who was sheriff.

      Cade glanced at his watch, knowing where to find his brother this time of the morning. At the same place he was seven days a week, the Hi-Line Café.

      Leaving his Closed sign in the window, Cade headed for the café just a few blocks to the west. It was one of those beautiful December days, cold and crisp, the sky a crystalline-blue, the clouds mere wisps high above him and the new snow brilliant and blinding.

      It was supposed to snow again by evening, he’d heard on the radio this morning before his shower. The shower brought back the image of M. W. Blake standing in his bait shop. He remembered now that his first impression had been one of male interest—before he’d found out who she was and what she wanted.

      He recalled being a little taken aback by the sharp pang of desire he’d felt. But given how long it had been, he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised. The feeling had been more than lust, though. He’d actually been interested.

      Even before she’d opened her mouth, it had been clear she wasn’t local. She was wearing some fancy black boots with a gray pin-striped three-piece suit and a lightweight leather coat, her long dark hair pulled up to give him a good view of her long, graceful neck.

      When she’d turned, he’d been thrown off guard by how young she was. It was the freckles she’d failed to completely hide with makeup and those wide green eyes. Wisps of dark hair curled on each side of the high cheekbones. She was a stunner. The soft Southern drawl was just icing on the cake.

      He swore under his breath. She wasn’t even half as appealing when it turned out she was a damned reporter, though. And it had only gotten worse when he realized she was a reporter who didn’t have her facts straight. What could he expect of someone who was obviously too young to be anything but a rookie?

      As he passed the big bare-limbed cottonwoods along the Milk River etching dark against the bright day, he thought of the fall day he’d met Grace and felt a sharp jab of longing.

      The woman in the photo hadn’t been Grace, but even the resemblance to her made him hurt all over again. He cursed the damned reporter all the way to the café.

      Sheriff Carter Jackson was sitting at the counter. Cade dropped onto the stool next to him and motioned to the waitress that he would have the same thing he always did. Coffee.

      “Good mornin’,” he said to his brother as the waitress slid a cup in front of him.

      “Is it?” the sheriff said.

      The waitress brought Cade extra sugar packets. He tore open a half dozen and poured them into his cup.

      “If you don’t like coffee, why drink it?” Carter asked irritably.

      “Who says I don’t like coffee?” He poured in most of the small pitcher of milk the waitress brought and glanced at his brother, wondering what had put Carter in such a foul mood. He suspected he knew. Eve Bailey.

      Carter had been trying to get Eve back for months now. They’d dated in high school but Carter had married someone else. Now divorced, he wasn’t finding Eve Bailey very forgiving. Not that Cade could blame her, although it was clear his brother had always loved her.

      “You’re up early,” Carter said, eyeing him. “What’s goin’ on with you?”

      Cade had planned to show his brother the photo of Starr Calhoun and tell him about the ridiculous claim made by the new reporter in town. But something stopped him.

      “Nothin’,” Cade said. “Just thought I’d join you for a cup of coffee this morning.”

      His brother turned now to stare at him. “You sure you’re all right?”

      “Don’t I look all right?” Cade shot back.

      “You look a little peaked.”

      Cade concentrated on his coffee, telling himself he was a fool not to show his brother the Wanted poster and put an end to this. So what was holding him back?

      “You’re usually out in your ice-fishing house by now,” Carter said, sounding suspicious. That also went with having a sheriff for a brother.

      “I haven’t got my house out yet,” he said, although that had been his plan just this morning. Before his early visit from Tex. Normally as soon as Nelson Reservoir froze over he would be on the ice.

      “I heard Harvey Alderson speared a nice Northern the other day,” Carter said.

      Cade nodded. “The photo’s already on the wall at the shop.” Harvey had come straight there to have his photograph taken. It was a Whitehorse tradition.

      “Maybe you’re starting to realize there is more to life than fishing,” his brother said, sounding as if he thought that was progress.

      On any other day Cade might have argued the point. “So how is Eve?”

      “She’s impossible as ever,” Carter groused. “And I don’t want to talk about her.”

      Cade laughed as he watched his brother wolf down his breakfast and between bites, go on and on about Eve. Some things didn’t change and today Cade was damned glad of it.

      ANDI FINISHED her story on the Parade of Lights and laid out the page for the next day’s edition, trying to keep busy.

      She’d expected Cade to call. He hadn’t.

      Wouldn’t a man who’d been given evidence that his wife was a known criminal call? Unless he’d already known and was sitting over in his bait shop planning how to keep her from telling another living soul.

      She slammed the drawer on the filing cabinet and cursed mildly under her breath. It was time to use her ace in the hole: the cassette tape.

      It was dangerous, but once he heard the voice on the tape, he would confirm that the voice was Starr Calhoun’s and she would have the proof she needed. She hoped that faced with even more evidence and his own innocence in all this, he would break down and tell her everything about his relationship with Starr.

      Unless of course he wasn’t innocent.

      Andi couldn’t help the rush of excitement she felt at just the thought of playing the copy of the tape she’d made for him. Maybe she should have told him about the tape when she’d shown him the photo.

      No, she thought, given how angry he’d been she doubted he would have listened to the tape. He had needed time to calm down, to let it sink in, to realize he couldn’t hide from the truth.

      Right. But how was she going to get him to listen to the tape if he refused to talk to her again? The man was obviously more stubborn than she had anticipated. She’d been convinced, guilty or innocent, he wouldn’t be able to rest until he heard her out. So much for that thought.

      She sighed as she sat down and checked her schedule. She didn’t have another story to cover for several days. The newspaper would hit the stands in the morning and she would have a whole week before the next edition. She couldn’t believe how laid-back weekly newspaper work was compared to broadcast news in a metropolitan city.

      But it would work out well for her. She’d need time to mine this story. Time to convince Cade Jackson to talk to her.

      That was the problem. To get the story she wanted, she needed Cade’s side of it. She needed to know how he and Starr had met, how she’d deceived him into marrying her.

      Andi felt a twinge of guilt. Cade hadn’t just been furious this morning. He’d seemed stunned. Even though he denied the photo was of his wife, she’d seen his shock. He’d recognized Starr.

      What would his reaction be when he heard his wife’s voice on the tape, callously planning the bank robberies with her accomplice? Unless, of course, Cade was her accomplice.

      No, the man caught on the bank surveillance cameras had pale blue eyes. Cade Jackson had dark, expressive eyes. Nor was he built like Starr’s accomplice.

      If