He was filling a plate when the woman in question strolled in. She didn’t ever rush when she walked; she strolled, those long legs eating up the floor with a steady, fluid pace that had a man snapping to attention to just stare. Miranda Talley had one of the sexiest walks he’d ever seen. A grace he had to admit drew him like a moth to a flame. He had to get ahold of himself.
The woman was going to drive him insane if he didn’t. This was the worst time for his long-dormant hormones to suddenly come back to life.
“Good morning, Agent Knight. Sleep well?”
“Just fine until I heard the dog barking.” He waved a hand toward the window and the pond. Her gaze followed, and her face softened as she saw the dog now sunning herself on a rock at the pond’s edge, with the half-dozen ducks swimming nearby.
“Yeah, Chloe is at that age where she barks at shadows. She slept in my room last night and got scared when the moonlight shone through the open window. I’m sorry about that. I just don’t get many opportunities to be with her any longer.”
He grunted. It was just a dog, after all. There were plenty more in St. Louis if she wanted one. He was just about to say something when someone called her name. He turned. A handful of PAVAD agents stood in the entryway, a small, darker-haired redhead at the front.
Dr. Talley smiled. “Great. Our team has arrived.”
Goodie. Now the fun could begin.
Knight finished filling his plate. He was hungry. He’d eat while she filled them all in on what had happened to Helen Caudrell. It was her show, after all. He was just there to observe.
11
Miranda looked around the Masterson police station. It was just as she remembered it. With one notable exception.
That donkey Clive Gunderson wasn’t sweating all over the nicked wooden desk. No, now there was a tall, handsome cowboy with broad shoulders and one of the best asses she’d ever seen.
There was no denying this man was a Masterson.
His young, pretty wife was right next to him, giving him a lecture about something. Phoebe Tyler Masterson was a distant cousin of Miranda’s grandmother. Phoebe had a little boy next to her who looked enough like her to be one of her brothers, and a tiny blond girl on her hip.
Phoebe smiled at Miranda, then shot a wary look at the man next to Miranda and at the crowd coming in behind her. “Hello, Miranda. It’s nice to see you again.”
Miranda accepted Phoebe’s hug gently. Phoebe and her sisters had always been a bit shy, especially around strangers. Miranda had known their mother before she’d been killed in a wreck a few years earlier, and had babysat for Phoebe’s younger siblings a time or two when she’d been about thirteen or fourteen. One benefit of her grandmother having the only diner in town and Miranda working there for years as a teenager—she’d started when she was twelve—was that Miranda knew just about everyone in Masterson County. Except…
“Who’s this little one?” Miranda smiled at the little girl. Phoebe and Joel had only been married a short time, and neither had had children before. At least, not that Miranda had been aware of.
“This is Perci and Nate’s daughter, Ivy. The adoption will be final in three months,” Phoebe said proudly. Ivy rested her head against her aunt’s shoulder and blinked shyly at everyone.
“Tell Perci congratulations for me, will you?” Miranda didn’t know the details, but she’d no doubt hear them from her grandmother soon. Miranda’s grandmother and the Masterson brothers’ mother were good friends. Joel Masterson’s brothers—Matt, Nate, and Levi—had married all three of Phoebe’s sisters.
A bit odd, but small towns were like that sometimes.
Ivy giggled and reached for the last person Miranda would have ever expected.
Allan Knight took Ivy quickly and slipped her onto his hip like he’d held a small child a thousand times before. He smiled—a real smile— and greeted the little girl like an old pro. Miranda tried not to gawk.
Well. That was certainly unexpected. Miranda would have expected Allan Knight to eat small children with his breakfast sausage.
He’d been almost hostile to the rest of the team at breakfast just an hour ago. No. Not hostile—wary and defensive.
Like he didn’t trust a single member of PAVAD all that much.
Max was the only one who hadn’t seemed to draw his surliness. All the women had. Especially Miranda herself.
He was an enigma she was going to have to figure out.
None of his vitriol was visible now. No, he was smiling and talking to the little girl without hesitation.
The ass.
Apparently, it was grown-up girls he couldn’t get along with. Maybe he was just a misogynist.
Miranda deliberately turned her back on him. She had introductions to make. “Joel, we’re ready to get started whenever you are.”
“Gunderson will be here shortly. He’s turning the case over and will consult with your team as liaison. We’ll use WSP, DCI, and my deputies, if needed.”
That made her hesitate. It wasn’t how PAVAD usually operated. Usually, they acted as auxiliary to the locals. Jurisdiction was always a sore point on just about every case she’d ever worked. “The case is being turned over to PAVAD completely? How is that even possible? This isn’t a federal crime.”
Joel waited until his wife, her brother, and their niece stepped out of his small office before answering. “There’re some local conflicts of interest. I’m sure Gunderson will explain when he gets here. We’ve already discussed it with the DCI supervisor. Rex Weatherby, from the WSP, is offering manpower if we need it. Your team handles everything, and they’ll share the arrest.”
Miranda nodded. One thing PAVAD prized was adaptability. And one of their hallmarks was that they weren’t out for glory—sharing arrests was the most they were after. In most instances, they let the locals have the collars, and they faded
