Lone Star Survivor by Colleen Thompson

Author:Colleen Thompson
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-11-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Andrea was awakened early the next morning when someone set a tray on the bedside table and slipped from the room without a word. Nose wrinkling at the unappetizing smells from what must be her breakfast, Andrea blinked at Ian, who sat sprawled in the bedside chair, his hat tipped over his face. Sound asleep, she realized, recognizing the soft rumble that ended his every exhalation. He’d earned his rest for certain, though, since he’d remained awake and on guard throughout the long night.

But he had little time to sleep before, with a sharp rap at the door, a tall man in a khaki uniform strode in holding a hat that didn’t quite block her view of the sidearm strapped to his hip. As she lowered the limp, cool piece of toast she had been nibbling, he said, “Good mornin’, Miss Warrington. I’m—”

“Sheriff Canter,” Ian said, coming to his feet and offering his hand so quickly that she wondered if he’d really been asleep.

The two men shook hands, each seeming to swell with testosterone as he sized up the other.

“You get the car pulled out of the creek?” Ian asked.

Canter gave a curt nod. “Had a couple of the deputies working out there half the night. Finally got some cables on it and had a wrecker drag it out this morning. No sign of bullet holes, they tell me.”

“He never fired his weapon,” Andrea said, nightmare images flickering through her brain like the chattering reel from an old horror movie. “When I saw the barrel, I thought he was pulling up to shoot, but instead he bumped my passenger-side rear tire. That’s when my car went spinning through the guardrail and—”

“And what?” Canter asked her. “Did you see this fellow afterward, when you were down there in the creek?”

She shook her head, reaching for memories that rolled in all directions like a broken string of pearls. She could grasp a bead at a time, but the strand refused to come together. “I remember being wet, that’s all. Wet and cold. My head hurt. I was trying to get out, and then the car flipped upside down, the whole world filling up with water. The next thing I know, I was lying on the bank and coughing, and Ian was there somehow. I guess he—”

Canter’s sharp gaze found Ian’s, suspicion rising thick as smoke. “You’re saying Rayford was right there?”

Ian made a scoffing sound. “You get that badge of yours out of a cereal box, man?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Andrea told the sheriff. “He was helping me, of course. He was still dripping from pulling me out, and that same morning, we were together when someone fired at us.”

Canter scowled. “Settle down, the both of you. Nobody’s accusing anybody. I’m just gathering the facts. Now, if you don’t mind—” he looked to Ian “—I’d like to ask the young lady a few questions in private.”

“There’s no need,” she told him. “I won’t be telling you anything I haven’t already

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