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Vance swallowed a grin when inspiration struck. He hopped from the old truck. “Switch vehicles with me, cuz. I forgot something back at the ranch. You take the clunker truck to town and I’ll be right behind you.”
“You better be right behind me,” Wade threatened as he hopped from his black extended cab truck and brushed past Vance. “Today is our sixth month anniversary, ya know.”
“Gee, it’s not like you haven’t mentioned it about a dozen times this morning,” Vance said flippantly.
Impatient, Wade slammed the clunker truck in gear, whipped around and headed for the highway. Vance chuckled in amusement as his cousin roared off in a cloud of smoke. He was anxious to see how Wade fared when he met up with the latest addition to HRPD.
Ah, nothing like a good prank to start the day off right, he mused.
OFFICER MIRANDA JACKSON glanced in her rear-view mirror then muttered under her breath when she saw the same clunker truck barreling down the highway, defying her order. Apparently that handsome cowboy she’d encountered didn’t think he had to take her seriously.
Well, so much for giving that rascal a warning, she mused as she hit the switch. Lights flashed and sirens wailed. This time she’d give him a ticket and impound his truck and just let him try to talk her out of it!
When the truck eased onto the shoulder behind her, Miranda stormed back to confront Vance Ryder. She blinked in disbelief when the driver rolled down the mud-splattered side window to stare curiously at her. Another raven-haired hunk of cowboy, who bore a strong family resemblance to Vance, flashed her a winsome smile.
“Is there a problem, Officer?”
Miranda jerked herself to attention to address the driver. “The problem is that I just sent Mr. Vance Ryder back in the direction he came, in this truck, because the vehicle is in violation of several traffic codes…” Her voice trailed off when a shiny black 4X4 truck pulled up beside her. The tinted window slid downward and she silently fumed when Vance grinned playfully at her.
“Everything okay here?” he asked with mock innocence.
Miranda was tempted to grab her nightstick and whack the mischievous cowboy over his handsome head. His devilish dark eyes twinkled with amusement and she knew he was silently taunting her. He thought he’d pulled a fast one on her, did he? Well, they’d just see about that.
When he waggled his thick brows and flashed her another one of those lady-killer grins her temper snapped. “Get out of that truck, Mr. Ryder.” Both men opened their doors. “Not you, him!” she ordered as she made a stabbing gesture at Vance.
“Wha’d I do?” Vance asked, lips twitching.
“Don’t play games with me,” she said warningly. Miranda grabbed her pad and quickly wrote out a ticket.
“Hey! There’s nothing wrong with the truck I’m driving,” Vance objected hotly.
“What is going on here?” Wade demanded, glancing at his watch again. “I’m on a tight time schedule. May I go now?”
“How about we forget the ticket and I escort my cousin and the clunker truck into town,” Vance suggested. “I’ll lead Cousin Wade all the way to the service station with my emergency lights flashing. That suit you, Officer?” He had the audacity to toss her a wink and another sexy smile.
Miranda didn’t appreciate being the object of manipulation and flirtation. But just as before, those ebony-colored eyes slid up and down her body, lingering momentarily on her chest. Well, this bozo was going to find out real quick that she expected to be taken seriously. She was a law officer and he’d better show her some respect!
“Fine, Mr. Ryder, you lead your cousin to town,” she muttered as she thrust the ticket at him. “And wash that pile of junk while you’re there so you and your cousin can see where you’re going. If this happens again, I will impound the truck.”
Wheeling around, Miranda stalked back to the squad car.
“A hundred-dollar fine!” Vance yowled, his eyes bulging in disbelief. “For what?”
Miranda pivoted to toss him a goading smile. “You’ve been fined for stupidity, Mr. Ryder. Don’t ever pull a stunt like that on me again.”
With extreme satisfaction, Miranda drove off, leaving Vance staring after her with his jaw scraping his broad chest. Thought this was funny, did he? Well, he could have himself a hundred-dollar laugh. Next time maybe he’d think twice before he tried to make her look like a fool.
BY THE TIME VANCE ESCORTED Wade to Pinkman’s Service Station he was fuming mad. “A hundred freakin’ bucks,” he scowled as he slid across the seat so Wade could drive his black pickup. “That lady cop has no sense of humor whatsoever. None of the officers have ever pulled us over in the jalopy. Man, she’s a stuffed shirt, if ever there was one.”
“I’ll say she is,” Wade agreed with a grin.
Vance shot him a glare. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Sure it is. I saw you checking her out. Hell, your tongue was practically hanging out of your mouth while you watched her walk away.”
“Oh, stuff a sock in it,” Vance growled. “I was only gaping at her in shock. Where does that idiotic female cop think she’s patrolling? Downtown Chicago?”
Wade arched a dark brow and grinned unsympathetically as he cruised toward the restaurant to meet his wife for their anniversary lunch. “That’s a good lesson for you, joker. You gotta watch who you’re fooling with. Just pay your fine and get over it.”
“I most certainly will not!” Vance huffed indignantly. “Just because she’s a knockout in a cop uniform doesn’t mean she can go around handing out citations that no other law officer in these parts would consider ticketing.”
Wade chuckled as he pulled into a vacant parking space. “A knockout, huh? So you do admit it.”
“As if you didn’t notice she was built like a supermodel,” Vance said, and smirked. “You may be loco over Laura, but no man could overlook a woman with a body like that lady cop has.”
“I agree she’s stacked. So are you gonna ask her out after you pay your fine?” Wade asked as he piled from the truck.
“Not on your life,” Vance said adamantly. “The day I get interested in a gung ho cop is the day you have my permission to shoot me.”
“Right,” Wade said as he made a beeline for the restaurant. “A cop and a practical joker. It’d never work.”
“Damn right it wouldn’t.” Vance followed his cousin through the door to pan the interior. “I like fun-loving females whose natural reaction is to smile, not look down their noses at you and scowl. Besides, that lady cop is so staunch and defensive that she’d never be a bit of fun, even out of uniform.”
Vance was certain his cousin hadn’t heard a word he said. The instant Wade saw his blond, blue-eyed wife waving at him from the corner booth he strode toward her like a dog going to heel. It was nauseating to watch those two lovebirds together. Of course, watching Cousin Quint and his new wife, Steph, wasn’t any better. They couldn’t keep their hands and eyes off each other, either.
Speak of the devil, Vance mused as Cousin Q sauntered from the kitchen, holding hands with the redheaded queen of cuisine. Dining with these four was sure to ruin Vance’s appetite.
“What’s wrong with you?” Quint stared curiously at Vance as he cozied up in the booth beside Steph.
“Oh, don’t mind him,” Wade said, grinning. “He’s bent out of shape because he had a run-in with the new police officer. She’s a real pistol, by the way.”
“Pistol, hell,” Vance muttered. “She’s an assault weapon and she’ll mow you down if you get in her line of fire.”
Laura and Steph stared worriedly at Vance. “What happened?” Laura asked.
Wade waved off their concern. “You know the joker. He tried to play one of his dumb pranks and the new lady cop didn’t think it was the least bit funny. She fined him a hundred bucks for stupidity.”
Quint burst out laughing. “That’ll teach you to be more selective, cuz. Serves you right.”
For sure, Vance was getting no sympathy from this quarter. Even Laura and Steph commenced giggling.
Vance sulked his way through lunch while the lovebirds cooed at each other. Well, maybe his family thought he should pay the hefty fine and chalk it up to a prank gone sour, but Vance wasn’t letting it go. Ms. Gung Ho hadn’t heard the last from him on the subject. He’d go over her head and talk to the chief of police. Tate Jackson needed to know that a member of his force was harassing one of the lifelong residents of the community. Tate was a reasonable man who’d lived in Hoot’s Roost for fifteen years. He would make certain that his new officer wasn’t overstepping her bounds.
“Where are you off to in such a rush?” Wade asked when Vance dropped a ten spot on the table and vaulted to his feet.
“I’m going to swing by the police department before I pick up the old truck.”
“Let it go,” Quint advised.
“Like he said,” Wade chimed in. “All you’re gonna do is make that lady cop madder than she is now. She’ll be gunning for you every time you show your face in town.”
Vance ignored the advice and strode across town square. He cast a distracted glance toward the circular fountain where a concrete owl hovered in perpetual flight.
Although Vance was usually a happy-go-lucky, carefree kind of guy he wasn’t going to let that rookie cop get away with this. He just had to make sure he got to tell his side of the story first.
When Vance breezed in the door of the police station he flashed the dispatcher a friendly smile. “Hi, Maggie, how’s it going?”
Maggie Davidson grinned back at him. “Fine, handsome. What are you up to? No good, as usual?”
Vance braced his elbows on the counter and flashed her a high-voltage smile. At least she reacted favorably, he thought. Unlike that green-eyed monster of a cop.
He and Maggie had dated casually for a few months before she got stuck on a man who eventually became her ex-husband. Vance decided to pour on the charm and ensure that he had one ally in enemy camp.
“You know me, darlin’, I’m a harmless, law-abiding citizen who wouldn’t hurt a fly.” He graced her with a trademark grin. “Is Tate in his office? I’d like to chat with him for a few minutes.”
“Sure is. Go on back. I’ll let him know you’re on your way.”
“Thanks, good lookin’. Seeing anyone at the moment?”
Maggie shrugged and propped her chin on her hand. “Not seriously. You?”
“Nope. Maybe we can do a little two-stepping at Hoot’s Tavern Friday night.”
She beamed with delight. “Love to.”
Vance ambled down the hall, remembering that he’d always had fun with Maggie in the old days. In addition, it never hurt to have a friend in the right place. Plus, he could quiz Maggie about the new officer and find out what caused that chip on her shoulder.
“Come in,” Tate Jackson called out when Vance rapped lightly on the door.
Vance strode inside to pump Tate’s hand then he plopped into the creaky wooden chair across from the chief’s desk that was piled high with files and red-tape forms.
“What can I do for you, Vance?” Tate asked.
“I came to file a complaint,” Vance replied. “I had a run-in with the lady cop on your force this morning.”
Tate rocked back in his chair and his graying brows flattened over his eyes. “Did you? What kind of run-in?”
Vance tried to keep his voice neutral, but it wasn’t easy when the image of that high-and-mighty bombshell cop popped to mind. “She slapped me with a ticket when I tried to bring my old farm truck into town for repairs. I told her I was on my way to the service station, but it didn’t faze her. I don’t know where she hails from, but she seems to think that we should follow the same regulations here in the outback that apply to the traffic-congested metropolis.”
Tate steepled his fingers under his chin and nodded pensively. “I see. Didn’t cut you any slack, did she?”
“None whatsoever,” Vance confirmed. “That old truck might look like a bucket of rust, but it’s necessary equipment on the ranch. My cousins borrow it all the time. We haul barbwire, tools, cattle feed, you name it. There’s times when I have to take it to town for repairs, but that rookie ordered me to turn it around and drive home.”
“Hmm,” was all Tate had to say in response.
“She wasn’t the least bit understanding,” Vance went on. “She fined me a hundred bucks to let me bring the truck to Pinky’s station for tires and a muffler. You’d think there was a toll road between my ranch and town and she’s in charge of collecting payment.”
“A hundred dollars, you say?” Tate murmured. “That does sound a little steep. Let me see the ticket.”
Yesss! Good ole Tate was on Vance’s side. That was all the encouragement Vance needed. “And I’m sorry to report that your lady cop has a holier-than-thou attitude that’s going to alienate townsfolk,” he tattled.
Tate studied the ticket for a moment. “I suppose you gave her the good-ole-boy routine, but she didn’t bite.”
“She sure didn’t. I climbed down from the truck and she yelled ‘Freeze!’ Heck, you’d have thought I was about to take potshots at her or something. Then she pulled her gun on me and flashed it around to intimidate me. We’re talking loose cannon here, Chief. I’d hate to think what would happen if someone committed a serious offense,” he added. “Then she started spouting code numbers at me. I have no idea what she was ranting about.”
Another rap rattled the door and Tate glanced sideways. “Come in.”
Vance inwardly cringed when the object of his frustration materialized in the doorway. The cop with those dazzling green eyes and a body to die for stopped in her tracks. Her narrowed gaze bounced from Tate to Vance. He tossed her a smug grin. Bring it on, Ms. Smarty-Pants. We’ll see who walks out of here with the reprimand.
2
“I WONDER IF I MIGHT HAVE a word with you, sir. After you finish your conference, of course,” the lady cop said politely.
Vance sincerely hoped Tate called this cop on the carpet. The prospect provoked him to smile in devilish delight.
Tate arched a questioning brow. “Does this have anything to do with the incident Vance is discussing with me?”
The lady cop nodded and that shiny braid of dark hair curled over her shoulder to brush the swell of her breast. Vance tried not to notice, he really did. But damn she was built like nobody’s business. Too bad that she had the disposition of a snapping turtle.
“Yes, sir, it does,” she told her superior.
“Then take a seat, Miranda, and let’s get this situation squared away.”
Miranda. Didn’t that just figure, Vance mused. The knockout female had decided to enter a profession in which she could Miranda everyone. Well, he’d like to read her a few rights and tell her what she could do with herself and her hoity-toity, by-the-book attitude.
“Vance was just telling me about your confrontation on the highway this morning. He objected to the hefty fine.”
Didn’t that just figure, Miranda mused, keeping her expression carefully controlled. No doubt this practical joker had decided to take the incident a step farther by tattling to her boss. The rat.
“I’m sure he objected,” she commented, “but I maintain that he got exactly what he deserved for turning that unsafe vehicle over to his cousin to drive to town after I sent Mr. Ryder back the way he’d come.”
When Tate leveled a pointed stare on Vance, Miranda noted that he sank a little deeper in his rickety chair. Obviously the stool pigeon purposely omitted several important details.
“You didn’t mention that, Vance,” Tate said stonily.
“I was just getting to that part when we were interrupted,” Vance mumbled, shooting Miranda a fulminating glance.
“Of course you were,” she said, then sniffed.
Vance braced his hands on the armrest and jerked upright. “Hey, I was here first to give my report. You were out of line.”
He glowered at her from beneath bunched brows. Refusing to be intimidated, she glared right back at him.
“So I suppose you didn’t mention that you took devilish delight in trying to make me look like a fool in front of your cousin,” she countered. “Well, the joke’s on you, Mr. Ryder. The next time I pull you over you better show some respect!”
“I will not be bullied by a gun-toting female who’s itching to blow my head off over a stupid vehicle violation!” he snapped.
“I was not itching to blow your head off…then,” she retaliated, green eyes flashing. “Now, I’m thinking about it.”
