The Lawmen of McCall Canyon

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The Lawmen of McCall Canyon
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Guilty until proven innocent?

This deputy isn’t taking chances

When his father is shot, Deputy Court McCall initially suspects Rayna Travers. Her mysterious past raises questions, even if his attraction to her is impossible to contain. Before long, though, he discovers Rayna is an innocent pawn in a very dangerous game. Now, to catch a killer, this cowboy will go wherever the case takes him. Even if that includes ignoring the truth in his hardened Texas heart.

The Lawmen of McCall Canyon

DELORES FOSSEN, a USA TODAY bestselling author, has sold over fifty novels, with millions of copies of her books in print worldwide. She’s received a Booksellers’ Best Award and an RT Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award. She was also a finalist for a prestigious RITA® Award. You can contact the author through her website at www.deloresfossen.com.

Also by Delores Fossen

Always a Lawman

Gunfire on the Ranch

Lawman from Her Past

Roughshod Justice

Grayson

Dade

Nate

Kade

Gage

Mason

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Cowboy Above the Law

Delores Fossen


www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07914-3

COWBOY ABOVE THE LAW

© 2018 Delores Fossen

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Deputy Court McCall glanced down at the blood on his shirt. His father’s blood. Just the sight of it sliced away at him and made him feel as if someone had put a bullet in him, too.

Court hadn’t changed into clean clothes because he wanted Rayna Travers to see what she had done. He wanted to be right in her face when he told her that she’d failed.

Barely though.

His father, Warren, was still alive, hanging on by a thread, but Court refused to accept that he wouldn’t make it. No, his father would not only recover, but Warren would also help Court put Rayna behind bars. This time, she wasn’t going to get away with murder.

Court pulled to a stop in front of her house, a place not exactly on the beaten path. Of course, that applied to a lot of the homes in or near McCall Canyon. His ancestors had founded the town over a hundred years ago, and it had become exactly what they’d intended it to be—a ranching community.

What they almost certainly hadn’t counted on was having a would-be killer in their midst.

Court looked down at his hands. Steady. That was good. Because there was nothing steady inside him. The anger was bubbling up, and he had to make sure he reined in his temper enough to arrest Rayna. He wouldn’t resort to strong-arm tactics, but there was a high chance he would say something he shouldn’t.

Since Rayna’s car was in her driveway, it probably meant she was home. Good. He hadn’t wanted to go hunting for her. Still, it was somewhat of a surprise that she hadn’t gone on the run. Of course, she was probably going to say she was innocent, that she hadn’t had anything to do with the shot that’d slammed into his father’s chest. But simply put, she had a strong motive to kill a McCall.

And then there was the witness.

If Rayna tried to convince him she’d had no part in the shooting, then Court would let her know that someone had spotted her in the vicinity of the sheriff’s office just minutes before Warren had been gunned down. Then Court would follow through on her arrest.

 

He got out of his truck and started toward the porch of the small stone-front house, but Court made it only a few steps because his phone rang, and his brother’s name popped up on the screen.

Egan.

Egan wasn’t just his big brother though. He was also Court’s boss, since Egan was the sheriff of McCall Canyon. By now, Egan had probably figured out where Court was heading and wanted to make sure his deputy followed the book on this one.

He would.

Not cutting corners because he wanted Rayna behind bars.

Court ignored the call, and the ding of the voice mail that followed, and went up the steps to the front door. This wasn’t his first time here. Once, he’d made many trips to Rayna’s door—before she’d chosen another man over him. Once, he’d had feelings for her. He had feelings now, too, but they had nothing to do with the old attraction he’d once felt.

He steeled himself and put his hand over his firearm in case Rayna wasn’t finished with her shooting spree today.

“Open up,” Court said, knocking on the door. Of course, he knocked a lot louder than necessary, but he wanted to make sure she heard him.

If she did hear him, she darn sure didn’t answer. He knocked again, his anger rising even more, and Court finally tested the knob. Unlocked. So, he threw open the door.

And he found a gun pointed right in his face.

Rayna’s finger was on the trigger.

Court cursed and automatically drew his own weapon. Obviously, it was too late because she could have fired before he’d even had a chance to do that. She didn’t though. Maybe because Rayna felt she’d already fulfilled her quota of shooting McCalls today.

“Put down your gun,” he snarled.

“No.” Rayna shook her head, and that was when he noticed there was blood in her blond hair. Blood on the side of her face, too. Added to that, he could see bruises and cuts on her knuckles and wrists. “I’m not going to let you try to kill me again.”

“Again?” Court was certain he looked very confused. Because he was. “What the devil are you talking about? I came here to arrest you for shooting my father.”

If that news surprised her in the least, she didn’t show it. She didn’t lower her gun, either. Rayna stood there, glaring at him.

What the hell had happened here?

Court looked behind her to see if the person who’d given her those injuries was still around. There was no sign of anyone else, but the furniture in the living room had been tossed around. There was a broken lamp on the floor. More blood, too. All indications of a struggle.

“Start talking,” Court demanded, making sure he sounded like the lawman that he was.

“I will. When Egan gets here.”

Court cursed again. Egan definitely wasn’t going to approve of Court storming out here to see her, but his brother also couldn’t ignore the evidence that Rayna had shot their father. There was definitely something else going on though.

“My father’s alive,” Court told her. “You didn’t manage to kill him after all.”

She looked down at his shirt. At the blood. And Rayna glanced away as if the sight of it sickened her. Court took advantage of her glance and knocked the gun from her hand.

At least that was what he tried to do, but Rayna held on. She pushed him, and in the same motion, she turned to run. That was when Court tackled her. Her gun went flying, skittering all the way into the living room, and both Court and she landed hard on the floor.

Rayna groaned in pain. It wasn’t a soft groan, and while holding her side, she scrambled away from him. Court was about to dive at her again, but he saw yet more blood. This time on the side that she was holding.

That stopped him.

“What’s wrong with you? What happened?” Court snapped.

She looked around as if considering another run for it, but then her shoulders sagged as if she was surrendering.

Rayna sat up, putting her weight, and the back of her head, against the wall. She opened her mouth as if to start with that explanation, but she had to pause when her breath shuddered. She waved that off as if embarrassed by it and then hiked up her chin. It seemed to him as if she was trying to look strong.

She failed.

“When I came in from the barn about an hour ago, there was someone in my house,” Rayna said, her voice still a little unsteady. “I didn’t see who it was because he immediately clubbed me on the head and grabbed me from behind.” She winced again when she rubbed her left side. “I think he cracked my ribs when he hit me with something.”

Well, hell. Court certainly hadn’t expected any of this. And reminded himself that maybe it was all a lie, to cover up for the fact that she’d committed a crime. But those wounds weren’t lies. They were the real deal. That didn’t mean that they weren’t self-inflicted.

“I got away from him,” she continued a moment later. “After he hit me a few more times. And I pulled my gun, which I had in a slide holster in the back of my jeans. That’s when he left. I’m not sure where he went.”

That didn’t make sense. “If someone really broke in an hour ago, why didn’t you call the sheriff’s office right away?”

Rayna lifted her head a little and raised her eyebrow. For a simple gesture, it said loads. She didn’t trust the cops. Didn’t trust him.

Well, the feeling was mutual.

“I passed out for a while,” she added. She shook her head as if even she was confused by that, and she lifted the side of her shirt that had the blood. There was a bruise there, too, and what appeared to be a puncture wound. One that had likely caused the bleeding. “Or maybe the guy drugged me.”

“Great,” he muttered. This was getting more far-fetched with each passing moment. “FYI, I’m not buying this. And as for not calling the cops when you were attacked, you called Egan when you saw me,” Court pointed out.

“Because I didn’t want things to escalate to this.” She motioned to their positions on the floor. “Obviously, it didn’t work.”

He huffed. “And neither is this story you’re telling.” Court got to his feet and took out his phone. “Only a couple of minutes before my father was gunned down, a waitress in the diner across the street from the sheriff’s office spotted you in the parking lot. There’s no way you could have been here in your house during this so-called attack because you were in town.”

She quit wincing so she could glare at him. “I was here.” Her tone said I don’t care if you believe me or not.

He didn’t believe her. “You must have known my father had been shot because you didn’t react when I told you.”

“I did know. Whitney called me when I was walking back from the barn. I’d just gotten off the phone with her when that goon clubbed me.”

Whitney Goble, her best friend. And it was entirely possible that Whitney had either seen his father get shot or heard about it shortly thereafter because she worked part-time as a dispatcher for the sheriff’s office. It would be easy enough to check to see if Whitney had indeed called her, and using her cell phone records, they could possibly figure out Rayna’s location when she’d talked to her friend. Court was betting it hadn’t been on Rayna’s walk back from the barn. It had been while she was escaping from the scene of the shooting.

“This waitress claims she saw me shoot your father?” Rayna asked.

He hated that he couldn’t answer yes to that, but Court couldn’t. “She was in the kitchen when the actual shot was fired. But the bullet came from the park directly behind the sheriff’s office parking lot. The very parking lot where you were right before the attack.”

Judging from her repeated flat look, Rayna was about to deny that, so Court took out his phone and opened the photo. “The waitress took that picture of you.”

Court didn’t go closer to her with the phone, but Rayna stood. Not easily. She continued to clutch her side and blew out some short, rough breaths. However, she shook her head the moment her attention landed on the grainy shot of the woman in a red dress. A woman with hair the same color blond as Rayna’s.

“That’s not me,” she insisted. “I don’t have a dress that color. And besides, I wasn’t there.”

This was a very frustrating conversation, but thankfully he had more. He tapped the car that was just up the street from the woman in the photo. “That’s your car, your license plate.”

With her forehead bunched up, Rayna snatched the phone from him and had a closer look. “That’s not my car. I’ve been home all morning.” Her gaze flew to his, and now there was some venom in her eyes. “You’re trying to set me up.” She groaned and practically threw his phone at him. “Haven’t you McCalls already done enough to me without adding this?”

Court caught his phone, but he had to answer her through clenched teeth. “We haven’t done anything.”

She laughed, but there wasn’t a trace of humor in it. “Right. Remember Bobby Joe?” she spat out. “Or did you forget about him?”

Bobby Joe Hawley. No, Court hadn’t forgotten. Obviously, neither had Rayna.

“Three years ago, your father tried to pin Bobby Joe’s murder on me,” Rayna continued. “It didn’t work. A jury acquitted me.”

He couldn’t deny the acquittal. “Being found not guilty isn’t the same as being innocent.”

Something that ate away at him. Because the evidence had been there. Bobby Joe’s blood in Rayna’s house. Blood that she’d tried to clean up. There’d also been the knife found in her barn. It’d had Bobby Joe’s blood on it, too. What was missing were Rayna’s prints. Ditto for the body. They’d never found it, but Rayna could have hidden it along with wiping her prints from the murder weapon.

The jury hadn’t seen it that way though.

Possibly because they hadn’t been able to look past one other piece of evidence. Bobby Joe had assaulted Rayna on several occasions, both while they’d been together and after their breakup when she’d gotten a restraining order against him. In her mind, she probably thought that was justification to kill him. And equal justification to now go after Court’s father, who’d been sheriff at the time. Warren had been the one to press for Rayna’s arrest and trial. After that, his father had retired. But Rayna could have been holding a serious grudge against him all this time.

She’d certainly held one against Court.

He heard the sound of a vehicle pulling up in front of Rayna’s house and knew it was Egan before he glanced out the still-open door. He also knew Egan wouldn’t be pleased. And he was right. His brother was sporting a scowl when he got out of the cruiser and started for the door.

Egan was only two years older than Court, but he definitely had that “big brother, I’m in charge” air about him. Egan had somehow managed to have that even when he’d still been a deputy. Folks liked to joke that he could kick your butt even before you’d known it was kicked.

“If you think Egan is going to let you walk, think again,” Court warned her.

“I won’t let him railroad me,” she insisted, aiming another scowl at Court. “I won’t let you do it, either. It doesn’t matter that we have a history together. That history gives you no right to pull some stunt like this.”

They had a history all right. Filled with both good and bad memories. They’d been high school sweethearts, but that “young love” was significantly overshadowed by the bad blood that was between them now.

Egan stepped into the house, putting his hands on his hips, and made a sweeping glance around the room before his attention landed on Court. “Please tell me you’re not responsible for any of this.”

“I’m not.” At least Court hoped he wasn’t, but it was possible he’d added some to the damage when he tackled her. “Rayna said someone broke in.”

Court figured his brother was also going to have a hard time believing that. It did seem too much of a coincidence that his father would be shot and Rayna would have a break-in around the same time.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Egan said to him in a rough whisper.

Court was certain he’d hear more of that later, but he had a darn good reason for being here. “I didn’t want her to escape.”

“And I thought he’d come here to kill me,” Rayna countered. “I pulled a gun on him.” She swallowed hard. “Things didn’t go well after that.”

 

Egan huffed and grumbled something that Court didn’t catch before he took out his phone and texted someone.

“Court didn’t do any of the damage in this room,” Rayna added. “It happened when an intruder attacked me.”

That only tightened Egan’s mouth even more before he shifted his gaze to Rayna. “An ambulance is on the way. How bad are you hurt?” he asked and put his phone back in his pocket.

She waved it off, wincing again while she did that. Yeah, she was hurt. But Court thought Egan was missing what was really important here.

“She shot Dad,” Court reminded Egan. “We have the picture, remember?” Though he knew there was no way his brother could have forgotten that. “It’s proof she was there. Proof that she shot him.”

“No, it’s not.” Egan groaned, scrubbed his hand over his face. “I think someone tried to set Rayna up.”

Court opened his mouth to say that wasn’t true. But then Egan took out his own phone and showed him a picture.

“A few minutes after you stormed out of the hospital,” Egan continued, “Eldon Cooper, the clerk at the hardware store, found this.”

“This” was a blond-haired woman wearing a red dress. An identical dress to the one in the photo the waitress had taken. But this one had one big difference from the first picture.

In this one, the woman was dead.

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