“I’m just going to get straight to the point,” Tanner said. “I have an idea to go on the offense on this case, but it requires your help, Ms. Cooper.”
“No,” Riley said firmly.
Both Joe and Hannah looked up at him, startled.
“What do you have in mind, Sheriff?” Hannah asked.
“I want you to give an interview to one of the TV stations and let them know that you’re seeing a psychiatrist here at the hospital in Jackson-someone who’s helping you recover some of the memories you lost thanks to the concussion.”
“You want to set her up as bait,” Riley interpreted.
“In a controlled way. I have already discussed the idea with one of the hospital’s staff psychiatrists, and she’s willing to go along with the plan.”
“I’ll do it,” Hannah said swiftly.
“No, she won’t,” Riley said, glaring back at her when she once again turned angry eyes toward him.
“When do you want me in Jackson?” Hannah asked, her gaze doing fierce battle with Riley’s.
“I need time to set things up, but I think we’ll want to shoot for the local evening newscast,” Tanner answered. “Give them a day to promo the interview, make sure our guy knows to watch. So, if you could be in Jackson tomorrow morning, we can get the ball rolling.”
“Set it up,” Hannah said firmly.
“Hannah, no,” Riley pleaded softly. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Call Chief Garrison when it’s set,” she added, her eyes softening. “He’ll pass the information along to me.”
“Thank you, Ms. Cooper. You’re doing a brave thing.” Admiration rang in Tanner’s voice.
“I just want this man caught,” Hannah replied.
Tanner rang off and Joe hung up the phone. He looked at Riley, sympathy in his eyes, then spoke to Hannah. “If you want to back out at any point, don’t feel obligated to go through with this plan. I know Sheriff Tanner will do all he can to keep you safe, and I’ll make sure I’m in on things, too, but nobody can promise you that there’s no danger.”
“I’m not trying to be a hero,” Hannah said. “I want to be able to go back home and sleep at night knowing I didn’t chicken out on a chance to catch a really bad guy who’s hurt a lot of people.” The look she gave Riley made his heart hurt.
“If you’re doing this for me-”
“For you, for me, for that woman in the national park and all those other women you told me about.” She leaned over and took his hand. “For Emily.”
He lifted her hand, pressed his lips against her knuckles. The arguments he wanted to make died in his throat.
Joe cleared his throat. “I guess that’s it for now.”
Riley didn’t let go of Hannah’s hand as he turned to look at his friend. “I want you in on everything. Every bit of the planning. Can you stay on Tanner, make sure he’s covering all the possibilities?”
“Of course. But don’t you want to do that yourself?”
Riley looked at Hannah again. “No, I’m going to spend the next twenty-four hours talking her out of this crazy idea.”
SO, SHE WAS REMEMBERING, he thought, replaying the sheriff’s press conference in his head.
Jim Tanner hadn’t said it in so many words, but clearly he was holding something back, something that put that smug half smile on his face throughout the entire press conference.
So far, he hadn’t had much luck finding out where the girl was hiding out. His friend at the Sheriff’s Department didn’t know. He’d even made a point of running into Mark Archibald, the reporter who’d managed the first interview with Hannah Cooper, but he wasn’t dropping any clues about the woman’s whereabouts.
No need to panic yet. Whatever the woman remembered, it wasn’t enough to implicate him. She’d never gotten a good look at him; he’d been careful, wearing nondescript clothing and his hat low over his face. She might have seen his belt buckle, but that wouldn’t hurt him. He wore it only when he was hunting, and it had been a hand-me- down, not a purchase.
Still, he’d feel better when he finally tracked her down.
HANNAH COCKED HER HEAD, watching Riley flip the steak on the grill. He looked over his shoulder and smiled at her, fueling her suspicion that he was playing some sort of game with her. On the up side, at least she was getting a steak dinner out of it. But she couldn’t help wondering why he wasn’t trying to talk her out of playing bait for the killer.
Driving home from the Canyon Creek Police station, he hadn’t said a word about Sheriff Tanner’s plan. On the contrary, he’d taken the scenic route, detouring along lightly traveled side roads winding through open range, where horses and cattle grazed on the last good grass before winter arrived. He was a charming tour guide, telling her all about the local legends from a time when cowboys were kings.
“Just north of here,” he had told her, “lies the Wind River Indian Reservation. Northern Arapaho and Eastern Shoshone. Emily’s mother grew up there.”
Which explained Jack’s coloring.
“Emily’s mother died when she was little-not long after Jack was born. They grew up with their dad, so they never really knew much about their mother’s side of the family. She always regretted that.” Riley’s voice had gone faint, as it often did when he spoke of his late wife.
He’d changed the subject, and the conversation for the rest of the ride home had been light and inconsequential.
Certainly no mention of Sheriff Tanner’s plan to put her in the killer’s crosshairs.
“Are you sure I can’t help you with something?”
“Got it covered,” he assured her. He closed the grill cover and came to sit next to her on the rough, wooden bench set against the back wall of the house. He edged closer, enfolding her cold hands in his. “Are you sure you want to wait out here with me? Your hands are like icicles.”
She leaned against him, happy for his body heat. Though the house blocked some of the wind whipping down from the north, the sun was already beginning to set, robbing her of its waning warmth. “And miss watching you play chef? Not a chance.”
He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. “Better?”
He smelled like wood smoke and grilling steak. Her stomach growled, and she chuckled inwardly. Tasty, indeed.
“Somebody’s hungry.” His low, growly baritone rumbled in her ear, turning the statement into a nerve-melting double entendre. She looked up to find him watching her, his gaze restless.
She swallowed hard, her heart fluttering wildly. “Yes.”
He bent his head to nuzzle the side of her neck. His lips traced a shivery path up to her ear. “Me, too.”
Resistance was impossible, even though she was onto his plan of distraction. By the time his mouth slid over the curve of her jaw, she was far beyond protest.
His lips found hers, moving lazily. She lifted her hands to his head, his crisp, short-cropped hair rasping against her palms, making them tingle. She pulled him closer, ready for the next course, but he gave her only a quick taste, his tongue brushing lightly over hers, before he pulled back. The kiss was an appetizer, only whetting her hunger.
“Don’t want to burn anything,” he murmured, pulling away and returning to the grill.
He grabbed a set of tongs and flipped the steaks. The smell wafting toward her made her mouth water.
At least she told herself it was the smell.
“You haven’t given up on talking me out of the plan, have you?” she asked.
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Did you think I would?”
She shook her head slowly. “It’s not going to do you any good. You can’t wine and dine me out of this.”
He smiled slightly, his eyes dark with determination. “I wasn’t expecting food to change your mind.”
