Identity: Classified. Liz Shoaf
her. His big grin threw her off balance.
“It certainly is. How about I walk you back to your room? Jackson Hole is a relatively safe town, but we do get quite a few out-of-towners.”
The night’s excursion was shot anyway. Playing it cool was her best option.
“Fine by me.”
In her peripheral vision, Chloe spied movement near the sedan sitting in front of room 126, but she kept her attention on the sheriff. Had the two men slipped out of their room while she wasn’t looking? So as not to arouse suspicion, she turned and started walking. Sheriff Hoyt fell into step beside her. The fine hair at the nape of her neck prickled, and it wasn’t because of the man walking next to her. She needed to shake off the sheriff and find out if the two men had left their room. She could double back and surprise them without breaking into their quarters. Nothing illegal in having a nice, friendly chat.
She aimed an arrow straight at his heart. “So who’s keeping an eye on Penny while you’re patrolling the streets?” She kept her tone friendly, but increased her pace. She’d duck inside the bed-and-breakfast, then slip out the back and hoof it back to the motel. She had to know if they were following her.
He didn’t answer, and she stopped scanning their surroundings to look at him. She didn’t care for the intent expression on his face and stopped in her tracks.
“What?”
He shook his head. “I can almost see your mind clicking a mile a minute.” He faced her, and those emerald eyes bored into hers. Oh, yeah, the sheriff was definitely good at his chosen profession. “Miss Bailey, if you have a problem of some sort, I’m happy to help. You can trust me, you know.”
She might be only twenty-five years old, but she’d had a lifetime of experience. There were only four people she had ever dared to trust. The sheriff appeared to be squeaky clean, but so did a lot of other people. People who were just better at hiding their dark sides.
She’d learned early on she had to look after number one. Even God hadn’t been able to save her parents.
“I appreciate that, Sheriff, but I don’t have any problems other than getting back to Mrs. Denton’s. Geordie could probably use the bathroom about now.”
She snapped her mouth shut, knowing she’d messed up before he even said anything.
“Please, call me Ethan. I have to ask myself why you didn’t bring that cute little dog of yours along with you for your evening stroll.”
Time to get rid of the sheriff. She had to make tracks back to the motel. “Sheriff Hoyt—Ethan—I appreciate the company, but rest assured, I have nothing to hide.” And wasn’t that the biggest whopper she’d ever told? “Tell Penny I said hello and I’ll see you around town.” But not if she could help it. Ethan Hoyt had good instincts, probably sharpened by his time spent as a detective in Chicago, but from the time she was sixteen, Chloe had been hanging around a gang of FBI agents. She could outwit him any day. Stan always grumbled that she had too much confidence, and one day it would land her in a boatload of trouble.
As she turned to leave, a bullet whizzed by close enough to slice the skin on her ear. It pinged into a car parked on the street behind her. Her survival instinct kicked in. She pivoted around and plowed into Sheriff Hoyt, throwing both on them onto the sidewalk, hopefully out of the line of fire. Her mind went into overdrive. They were out in the open, and whoever shot at her could easily have taken her out. Was it a warning shot, letting her know they were watching?
* * *
A big oomph shoved the breath from Ethan’s lungs as Samantha Bailey pushed him to the ground and landed on top of him. Before he could catch his breath, she slid off his body and started belly-crawling toward a parked car on the street. Glancing over her shoulder, she hissed, “Get a move on. Someone just shot at us.”
Stunned, impressed and somewhat put out by Miss Bailey’s quick reflexes, he flipped himself over and followed her. He crouched beside her as she peered around the front end of the vehicle. Where had she learned moves like the one she’d performed after the gunshot?
She twisted her head around and he spotted a thin line of blood trickling from her earlobe. His body tensed, and he pulled his gun from his shoulder holster. “You’re bleeding. Are you okay?”
She grinned and her dimples flashed. “I’m fine. They just nicked my ear.” The grin disappeared. Her lips firmed, and the gold ring around her brown pupils burst into a brilliant golden fire. “But they’ll wish they hadn’t before this is over.”
He briefly wondered about Miss Bailey’s life. Most of the women he knew would be close to hysteria after being shot at, but that was something he could think about later. Right now, he had to protect her, whether she thought she needed it or not.
“Move back. I need to get to the front of the car to see what’s going on.”
She hesitated a second, then shrugged her shoulders and scooted behind him. Ethan took a quick peek around the hood of the car but didn’t see anything. Gun in hand, he dropped back behind the safety of the vehicle and leaned against the front fender.
“Did you see or hear anything, Sam?” He winced when she took a swipe at her ear with her coat sleeve, but the blood kept seeping out.
She squinted down the lane, lit only by streetlamps, then gave him a saucy grin. “We’ve been shot at together, so I guess we’re friends now.”
Her degree of calmness after getting shot at bothered him, but they were out in the open. Now wasn’t the time to delve into Sam’s life.
“Fine, we’re friends now. Did you see or hear anything before the shot?”
He could almost see her mind sifting through different answers. It was a yes or no question. The woman was wily as a cat. His temper got the best of him. “It’s a simple question. You shouldn’t have to think it to death.”
Her chin shot up and she wore a mulish expression. “Fine. Right before we walked away from the motel, I saw a shadow moving around the car in front of room 126.”
“And you didn’t see fit to tell me?” His voice echoed incredulous anger.
Her gaze shifted away. “I’m used to handling my own problems.” She thrust her sweetly pointed chin forward. He had to bite back a grin. In some ways, Sam reminded him of Penny with her stubbornness.
“I’m sure you are, but I’m the sheriff and we’ll do this my way. By now the shooter could have circled around us. We need to move.”
Her eyes shifted toward the motel before they settled back on him. “I’m sure the shooter is long gone, but if you want to accompany me back to the bed-and-breakfast, I’d appreciate it.”
He wasn’t a fool. He knew exactly what the clever woman planned. “And after I drop you off, you’re going to sneak out and come right back to the motel.”
Her eyes widened and she dipped her chin. Jackpot!
“Admit it,” he said.
“Seems to me you already know everything, Sheriff.”
She smiled, but he didn’t trust the sassy upturn of her lips. He might as well let her tag along while he checked out room 126. Maybe it would keep her safe and out of trouble. Later the two of them would have a nice long talk. He wanted to know what she was doing standing outside the room of two men from New York so late at night.
He heaved a heavy sigh. “I know you have a knife and a gun. I want to see the permit later, but for now, stay behind me and do exactly as I say, or I’ll take you to Mrs. Denton’s and lock you in your room while I check this out.”
She flashed him a full-wattage smile, and her dimples made another appearance. She looked young and innocent, nothing close to the wily woman she had already proved herself to be.
“Sounds like a plan.” She tilted her head. “You’re