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RUNNING HARD, JAKE CHARGED across the basketball court and rushed into the thicket of pine trees opposite his house. Low branches on the bushes snapped against his legs as he dodged through the tree trunks. Anger surged through him. They’d been ambushed. In spite of his precautions, someone had gotten close enough to shoot. The weapon had been a camera not a gun. But the intent was the same.
The moonlight was enough for him to see the back of his quarry. A man in a black windbreaker and a black knit cap, he moved though the trees with a clumsy halting gait. His arms thrashed at low hanging branches. This was a man unfamiliar with forests and uneven terrain.
Jake was gaining on him. These mountains were his home. Since childhood, he’d been running through these forests. He knew how to place his feet, when to dodge and when to leap.
The man in black broke out of the trees into the open. Directly ahead of him was the barbed-wire fence that separated Jake’s property from his neighbor’s. As he swerved to avoid crashing headlong into the fence, he stumbled and fell to his hands and knees.
Jake shouted a warning. “Stop. Police.”
The man staggered upright. He was breathing hard. “Don’t shoot.”
“Show me your hands.”
“I’m a photographer.” He pointed to the camera hanging on a strap around his neck. In his left hand, he held some kind of flash device. “I’m not going to hurt anybody. I just wanted a picture of the princess.”
Jake didn’t have a set of handcuffs with him, but he didn’t think he’d need them. His rage was enough to ensure this guy wouldn’t resist. “Come with me.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
Jake tore the flash from his hand. “Give me the camera.”
“I got a great photo of you and Saida. And I mean great.” He sucked down a breath. “You look good together. You might not know this, but you’re developing a fan base. The women in my office are watching your daily briefings and they want more pictures of the sexy sheriff of Wind River County.”
Oh, swell. “Your camera. Now.”
“Awright, awright.” He took the camera from his neck and handed it over. “Be careful with the equipment. It’s top-of-the-line, expensive.”
Jake glared at this unshaven little ferret with the long, greasy, blond ponytail. “I’ve seen you hanging around at the resort.”
“Danny Harold,” he introduced himself. “Saida knows me. I’ve taken about a million photos of the princess.”
And she must have known that the paparazzo would be lurking outside the house. When she lured Jake onto the porch and touched his cheek so sweetly, she’d been setting him up for a photo op. She’d conned him. His anger at her translated into a growl at the man in his custody. “Danny Harold, you’re under arrest.”
“For what?” he yelped.
“Consider yourself lucky, it wasn’t so long ago that we shot trespassers.”
Jake marched him through the trees and back to the house. The walk gave him time to cool down, and that was good. He was outraged. The way she’d manipulated him with this stunt went too far. The last thing he needed was some high-maintenance princess flouncing around and making ridiculous demands. What the hell had she been thinking? What did she hope to gain from Danny Harold?
Kent Wheeler stood on the porch, gun in hand. Though the brim of his hat shielded his eyes, his frustration was evident. “Sorry, Sheriff. I don’t know how this creep got so close.”
“Not your fault.” Jake shoved Danny toward him. “Cuff him and put him in your car.”
While Danny squawked about freedom of the press and how he didn’t mean any harm, Jake mounted the steps to the porch and entered the house. Maggie and Saida were sitting at the dining room table with coffee mugs in front of them. The princess rose to her feet and adjusted the fur collar of the vest she’d put on over her naked shirt. Her posture was perfect, and her attitude was so imperial that she could have been wearing a crown.
He wanted to tear away that composure and get to the truth. He placed the camera equipment on the table and said to his sister, “Give us some privacy.”
“Sure thing.”
When Maggie stepped up beside him and touched his arm, he almost flinched. Holding his anger in check was taking all his willpower. Her touch morphed into a sisterly hug that felt like a straitjacket. He assured her, “I’m fine.”
She looked up at him with worried eyes. “Can I get anything for you? Coffee? A sandwich? Linguini?”
“Get out of here, sis.”
He waited until Maggie had disappeared up the stairs and he heard the door to her room close. Then he confronted Saida.
“I want an explanation, Princess.”
“I’M HAPPY TO EXPLAIN.” Saida remained standing at the table. “Danny Harold is the bane of my existence. He’s after me all the time, stalking me with his camera. I suspected that he’d find a way to get close. If I gave him a photo opportunity that he couldn’t resist, he’d reveal himself.”
Finally, Jake had gotten a direct answer from her. Not that it made any sense. She hated Danny, but she wanted to see him. What? He homed in on the important fact. “You were trying to lure him into the open.”
“Yes.”
“And you used me to do it.”
“You gave me no choice,” she said. “You refused to listen to me. I have a plan.”
A headache throbbed behind his eyes. All her fancy foot-work was making him dizzy. “I’m listening now. What’s this big plan of yours?”
“The time of my arrival was leaked to the men who chased me. If someone who works at the resort or the airport was responsible, that person must have passed their information to the paparazzi, as well.”
“How do you figure?”
“People like Danny pay well for tips.” With an elegant gesture, she tucked her shiny, black hair behind her ear. “If we ask him the right questions, he’ll identify his source.”
Either Jake was losing his mind or she was making sense. “Talking to Danny Harold is actually a decent plan.”
“So I’m right.”
“Don’t push it.” He went to the door and called to Deputy Wheeler. “Bring Danny in here.”
“Can I interrogate him?” she asked. “This is my plan, after all.”
“What do you know about interrogation?”
“I just finished my first year at UCLA law school. All A’s except for a B in torts. I hate torts.”
Law school? “Why are you studying law?”
“I hope to reform the legal system in my country and in the other COIN nations. I want to do something useful.”
He stalked past her and went into the kitchen, hoping to put distance between them. He didn’t want to be sucked into her life story.
“Right now, all that’s expected of me is to appear on red carpets and attend charity and political events,” she said as she trailed behind him.
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“It’s a lot of work. I have to spend the whole day being coiffed, fitted and painted with makeup. Five-inch heels are gorgeous but painful. You should try it sometime.”
He had no intention of walking a mile in her stilettos. “If you hate it so much, why do it?”
“It’s my duty. I’m a de facto ambassador, making contacts for Jamala. It never hurts to remind people in America of our existence. Tourism is an important industry for my country.”
He opened the cherry cabinet next to the sink, took down a striped ceramic mug and filled it to the brim with coffee. Not that he needed a wake-me-up. His adrenaline was still pumping from chasing Danny and from dealing with the princess. She was too clever, too manipulative and far too appealing.
“Will you allow me to speak to Danny?” she asked. “Can I at least stay in the room?”
Her cool, caramel eyes shone with confidence. After all that had happened, her poise remained unruffled. “We’ll both question him.”
“Oh, Jake. I’m so glad we’ll be working together.”
He had the sinking feeling that he’d somehow been recruited into a partnership he didn’t want. And if he tried to explain that they weren’t a team, she’d find a way to tighten the leash. How the hell had the princess gotten the upper hand?
Chapter Five
Before he became sheriff, Jake had spent seven years on the Cheyenne police force and had worked his way up to detective. Never once had he allowed the victim to participate in the interrogation of a witness. Nor had he ever conducted an investigation from his house.
Proper procedure was being shredded. But he wanted answers, and he had the feeling that Danny Harold would respond to the princess.
Deputy Wheeler escorted Danny, still in handcuffs, through the front door and sat him at the far end of the dining room table. The grungy little ferret beamed a toothy grin as soon as he spotted Saida. “There she is. Princess Saida Khalid of Jamala. You’ve always been one of my favorites.”
“I can’t say the same about you.”
“Come on, Princess. You like the attention, even if you won’t cop to it. Why else do you wear the short skirts and those sexy necklines? You’re one hell of a hot little number.”
“Show some respect.” Jake snatched the black knit cap from Danny’s head. “Otherwise, you’ll be spending the rest of the week in jail.”
“You don’t scare me. I have every right to do what I do. It’s called freedom of the press.”
Jake doubted that the Founding Fathers had paparazzi in mind when they drafted the First Amendment. “This isn’t about your photography. You trespassed on my property. And you broke branches on my bushes. That’s vandalism. If I charge you, it’s two weeks in the county jail.”
“That’s not fair,” he whined. “You can’t—”
Jake slammed the cap down on the table. “I’m the law in this county. You’d be wise to cooperate.”
Danny pulled back his chin like a turtle retreating into his shell. “What do you want from me?”
“First, you tell Princess Saida that you’re sorry.”
He glared at her. “Yeah, right. Sorry.”
As apologies went, that was pathetic. But Jake didn’t press for more. He nodded to Wheeler. “Take off the cuffs.”
As soon as Danny’s hands were free, he made a grab for his camera that was still resting on the table.
Jake snatched it away. “You don’t get this until you answer some questions.”
“Whatever. Let’s get this over with.”
Jake looked toward the princess. “Go ahead.”
“Thank you, Sheriff Wolf.” Apparently, Saida thought that using his title gave more gravity to her interrogation. “Let’s start at the beginning, Danny. When did you arrive in Wind River County?”
“As soon as I knew the princes were coming here.” Proudly, he said, “I have good contacts in Europe, and they told me about the COIN summit. I was one of the first on the scene. The publicity from the explosions and shootings were a bonus.”
“And you’ve been taking pictures ever since you arrived.”
“You know I have. That’s my bread and butter.”
“Huh,” Deputy Wheeler said. “Can you really make a living doing this?”
“I get decent bucks for pictures of royalty, especially in Europe. The COIN princes have a lot going for them—they’re handsome, titled and single.”
It dawned on Jake that Danny’s photos might come in handy. He might have caught something that would help the investigation. He went to the side table and picked up his sister’s laptop. “Show us some of these moneymaking photos.”
“With pleasure.” Danny rubbed his hands together, talking while he plugged his digital photo card into the laptop. “Right now, I’m on assignment from a British tabloid. They’re picking up my expenses. Whatever they don’t use, I’m free to sell elsewhere. Here we go. That’s from a couple of days ago.”
The first photo showed only two people. One of them was a woman who worked at the resort. With her was one of the twin Cavanaugh princes, probably Antoine. They appeared to be holding hands and didn’t seem aware of the camera.
Saida cooed. “That’s so sweet.”
Jake ignored the fact that Danny probably hadn’t gotten a release for this picture. It wasn’t his problem unless somebody pressed charges. “Let’s see a group shot.”
“Why?”
“You claim to be the best. Let’s see what you can do when there’s competition.”
Danny scrolled through several other pictures until he found one of both Cavanaugh princes standing with other people around. Jake recognized a couple of faces in the crowd. Burt Maddox, the former sheriff, was talking to one of the guys who worked for him. Chad Granger, a troublemaker who’d been in and out of jail, slouched at the edge of the crowd. Sheik Efraim was walking away. There were other faces he’d like to identify.
“That’s enough.” Danny removed the photo card. “If you want to see more, you need a subpoena.”
The little weasel knew his rights. Jake didn’t need to get embroiled in a lawsuit with a British tabloid. But he was short on suspects; Danny’s photos could help. “I’d appreciate your consent.”
“I’ll make a deal,” Danny said. “Let me use that photo of you and Saida on the porch. That shot is a moneymaker, worthy of front page in the tabloids. And on the entertainment TV programs.”
“It’s all right with me,” Saida said. “I can deal with it.”
“I can’t.” The most difficult part of Jake’s campaign for sheriff had been the publicity. Some of his Arapaho ancestors believed that when someone took your picture they captured a piece of your soul. “Print that photo, and I’ll sue.”
Danny backed off. “No need to get all self-righteous and litigious.”
Jake wished he didn’t have to care about public opinion. He wanted to be his own man. But he was sheriff, and that meant he had to hold to a certain standard of behavior. Not that the photo of him and Saida was porn, but he couldn’t afford to be front-page news in a tabloid.
The princess spoke up, “Danny, I have a question for you.”
“Shoot.”
