Saved By The Sheriff. Cindi Myers

of Adelaide’s sharp ears attuned to every word, Travis reached back and shut the door to his office. “Let’s sit down and you can tell me what this is about. Is there something specific I’ve done that has you so upset?”

      He lowered himself into the chair behind his desk, but she remained mobile, prowling the small office like a caged animal. “Alvin Exeter,” she said. “How could you even think of talking to that man about me?”

      Travis squinted, thinking. “Who is Alvin Exeter?”

      “He’s a horrible man who says he’s writing a book about me—about what happened to me. He said he has an appointment to talk with you.”

      Travis picked up his phone and pressed the button to ring Adelaide. She picked up right away and he put her on speaker. “Do you want me to bring in coffee for you and your guest?” she asked.

      “No. Do I have an appointment with someone named Alvin Exeter tomorrow?”

      “Two days from now, 9:30 a.m.”

      “So you asked me if I wanted to talk to this Exeter guy and I said yes?”

      He could picture her scowl as she assumed her chilliest schoolmarm tone. “I didn’t have to ask you. You have a stated open-door policy for citizens who want to speak to you.”

      So he did. “What does he want to talk to me about?” Travis asked.

      “He said he’s writing a human interest story on rural law enforcement.”

      “Thanks.” Travis hung up the phone and looked at Lacy. “Did you get all that?”

      “You really didn’t know you had an appointment with him?”

      “No.” Which perhaps made him look like a poor manager in her eyes, but better than looking like a traitor. “And, apparently, Adelaide didn’t know the real reason behind the appointment. He lied about his purpose in wanting to see me.”

      “Are you still going to talk to him?”

      “Only to tell him to leave you alone. That’s really all I can do. I can’t keep him from approaching other people and asking them questions. Though if he bothers you again, I can arrest him for harassment.”

      She dropped into a chair and glared at him. The memory of her warmth still clung to him, making him conscious of the short distance between them, of how beautiful and prickly and vulnerable she was—and how mixed up and charged his feelings for her were.

      “You really are making this difficult, you know?” she said.

      “Making what difficult?”

      “For me to hate you. I spent the last three years building you up in my mind as this horrible monster and now that you’re here, in front of me, you insist on being so...so decent!”

      He told himself he wouldn’t laugh. He wouldn’t even smile. “If anyone bothers you—Exeter or anyone else—let me know,” he said. “I’ve got your back.”

      “I don’t need you to be my bodyguard,” she said.

      “My job is to protect the citizens of this county, and you’re one of them.”

      “So that’s what I am to you, then? Your job?”

      “No.” She was his biggest regret. His responsibility, even. He’d helped ruin her life and now he felt obligated to help her put it back together. If she had asked he would have found her a job or given her money, but she wouldn’t ask for those things—she wouldn’t take them if he offered. But he could do everything in his power to protect her—to shield her from the aftereffects of the damage he’d done to her. He couldn’t tell her any of that, so instead, he tapped the badge on his chest. “You’re someone I hurt and I want to make that up to you, but mostly, I want to make sure you aren’t hurt again.”

      She looked away, cheeks still flushed, then shoved out of the chair. “I’d better go. I...I’ll look at those files whenever you’re ready.”

      “Iris Desmet over at the Cake Walk said something interesting to me this afternoon,” Travis said. “She said we should look for any client of Andy’s who matched the description Wade Tomlinson gave of the woman whom he saw at Andy’s office about the time Andy would have been killed.”

      “I don’t remember any clients who looked like me,” she said.

      “Think about it. Maybe a name will come to you.”

      “So that’s your new theory about who killed Andy—this mysterious woman?”

      “Not necessarily. But if she was around near the time when Andy was killed, maybe she saw something or remembers something.” He frowned. “I should have followed up on that when Wade first mentioned her.”

      “But you didn’t, because you thought he was talking about me,” she said.

      “That was a mistake. A big one on my part.” One he wouldn’t make again.

      She turned to leave. “Let me know how it goes with Alvin Exeter,” she said. “I’m curious to know what he has to say.”

      He walked her to the door. Even with her bad prison haircut and too-pale skin she was beautiful. The kind of woman a lot of men might underestimate, but not him. He would never underestimate Lacy Milligan again.

      * * *

      “IT’S SO GOOD to see you.” Brenda greeted Lacy on the front porch of the Milligans’ house the next morning with these words and a hug that surprised her with its fierceness. When Brenda pulled away, her eyes glinted with unshed tears. “I’m sorrier than you can know that I didn’t contact you while you were in prison,” she said. “I started to write more than once, but I just couldn’t think what to say.”

      “I wouldn’t have known what to say, either,” Lacy said. After all, she had been convicted of murdering Brenda’s husband. That went far beyond merely awkward. “I’m just really glad you don’t have any hard feelings now.”

      “I’m thrilled you’re home,” Brenda said. “I could never accept that you had anything to do with Andy’s death. When Travis told me he had found evidence that proved you were innocent, I was so relieved.”

      “Even though it means the real killer is still out there?” Lacy asked.

      “I didn’t think of that until later.”

      “So Travis told you he was going to try to free me?” Lacy asked.

      “He told me before he told the press. He wanted to make sure I was prepared.” Brenda touched Lacy’s arm. “He told me you still have bad feelings toward him, and I don’t blame you. But he really is a good man—one of the best men I know.”

      Lacy nodded. She might not be ready to forgive Travis Walker for stealing three years of her life, but she was woman enough to see the good in him, in spite of his mistakes. “I guess he told you why we’re looking through Andy’s files,” she said.

      “Yes. I don’t think you’ll find anything useful, but I guess we can hope.” She pulled her keys from her purse. “Are you ready to go get the boxes? I would have swung by the storage unit and picked them up myself, but Travis said it was better to do things this way.”

      “After the mistakes he made at my trial, I guess he’s being extra cautious,” Lacy said.

      “I can’t help but hope that this time he finds the real murderer,” Brenda said. “I think it would help all of us put this behind us.” She climbed into the driver’s seat of her car, while Lacy slid into the passenger seat.

      “I do want to put this behind me,” Lacy said. “I’m still adjusting to the idea that I’m really free.”

      “Do you think you’ll stay in Eagle Mountain?” Brenda asked.

      “I