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Chloe did not understand what was happening between them. For an entire year , the lines had been very clear, and both of them had been dedicated to keeping it that way.

But the past few days were getting all muddled, blurry, when it was the last thing that should be happening, what with skeletal remains and mutilated snakes and her own damn family. It was turning her soft.

Because she should have pushed him away, but she let him kiss her here. In broad daylight. In front of the Hudson house, which housed like a hundred people. People who would have questions, who would tell other people, who would erase all the lines they’d carefully drawn.

And still she drowned in the kiss. They weren’t supposed to do this, but she couldn’t stop herself because he kissed her with a gentleness that undid all her paltry walls. These were the ones that really got to her. He didn’t pull this out often. Usually, there wasn’t time for soft, leisurely. But his hands were on her face, his grip gentle as the kiss spun out into something that reached deeper than anything else ever had, until she felt like gravity simply ceased to exist.

He eased back, his dark eyes studying her face, his mouth still just a breath from hers. She wasn’t quite sure how, after a year of sneaking around, something could change, but something had.

Maybe this place was magic. Or a curse .

She had to shake her head to get both ridiculous thoughts out. Step away from him to find some anchor in this storm. “We have to get to work.” Her voice shook.

“Yeah.” His voice didn’t, but his exhale did.

Well, at least there was that.

She should break it off. Stop this right now. Before it got more complicated.

It was already way too complicated.

But she walked back into his home, shoulder to shoulder to him, and didn’t say a word. They went their separate ways in the house, and she ran through the shower upstairs, got dressed for work and then ignored Mary’s insisting she eat something. She knew Jack expected to drive her over to her cabin and drop her off at her cruiser, but she needed some space.

She didn’t even get halfway to her car before she heard him call her name. She turned. He’d also showered, changed into work clothes. He looked put together as always, in his perfectly pressed khakis and Sunrise Sheriff’s Department polo.

His expression was very grim, which wasn’t all that unusual for work, but there was something about him that had her tensing.

“We have to get to the hospital,” he said, striding toward his cruiser.

“The hospital. Why?”

“Suzanne just called me,” he said, referring to the Sunrise administrative assistant. “Kinsey was at your place when—”

“You had someone watch my cabin overnight?” she demanded, surprised by this brand-new information, which he had neither shared with her nor asked permission to do .

“No, I had someone drive by a few times overnight and—”

“Without telling me?”

“Yeah, without telling you. Now, would you let me finish?” He jerked open the driver’s-side door. “Kinsey was shot at. Suzanne says it was just a graze, but he’s at the hospital getting it looked at, and we need to go down there and get his story.”

Chloe’s heart slammed against her chest, enough to get over the frustration with Jack doing all that without telling her. She hopped into the passenger seat. “You sure he’s okay? Should I call Julie?” Steve’s wife would no doubt be worried sick.

Steve Kinsey had been with Sunrise since its inception, moving with Jack over from Bent County. He was in his late forties and had three teenagers at home, who he liked to bemoan even though he did everything he could to take time off to make all their many birthdays, holidays and sporting events.

“He called Julie himself. He’s fine,” Jack said, pulling out of the Hudson Ranch and onto the main highway, which would take them into Hardy and to the hospital.

But his hands were so tight on the wheel that his knuckles were white. Back to a perfectly capable outer shell and nothing inside but ticking time bombs.

Chloe blew out a slow breath, trying to focus on the important things. Steve had been shot. At her cabin? “Was someone trying to break in?”

“Suzanne didn’t have the details. We’ll get them from him ourselves.”

They drove for a while in silence. Sometimes she wished she couldn’t read him so easily. She tried—so hard—to keep her mouth shut. To let him deal with his stuff without trying to offer some kind of comfort.

This was work. This was that line they had both agreed on. And it was a line that had worked for a year .

But as they approached the hospital, she couldn’t keep it in any longer. “It could have been anything, Jack. Not just the thing you asked him to do. That’s the job.”

“But it wasn’t anything, was it?” Jack pulled the cruiser in front of the hospital, and they got out at the same time.

Jack took the lead, a sheriff down to the bone as he talked to the front desk and a nurse, before they were finally led into a room.

Steve sat on an exam table and even smiled at them—if ruefully—when they entered.

“I’m fine, boss. Just grazed me.” He wiggled his bandaged arm. “Not even keeping me.” He nodded at Chloe, then looked back at Jack. “I didn’t see anything, though, that’s the kicker.”

“As long as you’re okay, that doesn’t matter.”

Steve clearly didn’t agree, but he didn’t argue with the sheriff. He launched into an explanation. “I was driving by Brink’s house on my way back to the station. Thought maybe I saw a light. Figured she’d just left one on, but since there’d been some trouble, I got out to check it out.”

“You radioed that in?”

Steve nodded. “I parked in the driveway, turned the flashlight on and started to walk toward the side of the house. Told myself I was overreacting—but then, out of nowhere, I just heard pop . And felt it.” He gestured at the bandage. “That was it, though. Must have run off. If they’d wanted real trouble, they would have really shot me. Would have been easy pickings,” he said disgustedly.

Chloe felt sick at the thought.

“I called it in to Suzanne. I was ready to go check out the backyard, but Suzanne’s fussing about ambulances and blah, blah, blah. I think Bent County is out there looking at it now.”

“Bent County? But it’s our jurisdiction,” Chloe said.

Steve’s expression was unreadable. “Sort of.”

“What does ‘sort of’ mean?” Chloe demanded as Steve’s gaze moved to Jack. “Jack, what does that mean?”

If Steve thought it was weird that she’d used his first name instead of Sheriff , he didn’t act like it.

“I reported the snake to Bent County.”

She didn’t know exactly why that made her so angry except that he was...taking over while keeping her out of it. Something that involved her ranch, her brother, her house, her life . “I live in Sunrise.”

“Yes, and I happen to think all of this connects to what was found on the ranch. And that’s Bent County’s case. Besides, it’s a conflict of interest for Sunrise to investigate.”

“That’s if it has something to do with me . And I wasn’t home. Either time. Maybe they thought I would be, should be, but it seems strange that if this was about me , they wouldn’t make sure they knew exactly where I was.”

“Unless they didn’t want you there,” Steve suggested. “Seems to me, creeping around your cabin is looking for something. Maybe they were looking for your brother.”

Chloe didn’t glare at Steve. She didn’t even look at him. She kept her ire focused on Jack. Even if none of this was his fault, either, he was an easier target.

But his eyebrows were drawn together as though he was thinking. “Maybe it’s not you . Not Ry. Maybe they wanted you out of the way. Maybe there’s something in the cabin they want.”

“What could I have in the ca...” She trailed off, a horrible thought occurring to her. “Some of my father’s things. I have them in my garage.”

J ACK DROVE TO Chloe’s cabin. She said nothing, and he didn’t know what to say either, so the ride was in absolute silence. Seeing Steve had eased some of the tension about the situation—he really was fine and thinking clearly, but Jack still didn’t like any of his deputies being hurt on the job.

But it was the job. And he had to focus on the next step of it: trying to figure out why someone suddenly had Chloe—or Ry, or her cabin—in their sights.

He pulled his truck into the driveway. Jack frowned at the fact that there wasn’t anyone here. “I should call someone at County.”

Chloe shook her head, already getting out of the truck. “If there was something to say, they’d be here or they’d have called me.”

Jack sighed and followed her. She went right for the garage, that determined focus stamped into the expression on her face.

“He did all this stuff before he got arrested,” she was saying, opening the garage, striding toward a bunch of boxes. “Wanted us to spend time on the ranch with him. Told us it was our legacy .”

She started moving boxes, and Jack wanted to help, but he didn’t know what she was looking for, and it seemed like maybe she just had to do this herself.

“He tells me he wants us on the deed. I’ve done all right for myself, if being a government patsy is all right. But he’s worried about Ry. Wants Ry to run it, even though it’s not profitable—but hey, it’s a house. It’s something , I figured.” She tossed a tub out of the way. “Used all my guilt, all my worry about Ry to get my name on there too.” She shook her head, clearly disgusted with herself.

“My first year at Sunrise. I know I was green, but I also knew him . I should have seen it for what it was. A criminal who knew his time was up. He tells me he’s getting rid of stuff so he can be ‘free’ and all this other nonsense. Asks me if I want some family heirlooms. I should have said no. I know I should have said no, but I—”

“Nothing wrong with wanting family heirlooms, Chloe.”

“Oh, come on, Jack. I know who my family is. Criminals begetting criminals. Sure, maybe I hoped somewhere along the line, the Brinks had this ranch because someone wasn’t totally worthless. Maybe there was some immature fantasy about inheriting a sense of right and wrong from someone , but I know better. I should have known better.”

She finally stopped moving things, her breath coming in pants from the physical exertion. There was an old antique-looking chest pressed back in the corner of the garage.

She glared at it. “I never looked through it. He used to do this thing. I couldn’t quite believe it wasn’t heirlooms, but I knew. I knew it was just the usual way he liked to mess with me.”

“And how was that?”

She shrugged jerkily. “Once my parents really split, he was in and out of our lives. Sometimes he’d come around and Mom was tired of us, and we’d have to go spend a week or two at the ranch with him. He’d always have presents. For me. But they were just...joke gifts.”

Jack doubted he’d agree with the word joke , but he didn’t press. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep his mouth shut, but he did it.

“I should have looked through it and gotten rid of it.” She swallowed, clearly emotional about the whole thing. “I was a coward.”

“You’re human, Chloe.”

She didn’t look at him, just kept staring at the chest.

And this was work. They weren’t Chloe and Jack here. He was the sheriff. She was a deputy. There was a case to untangle. One they were both way too close to. He should call in Bent County for this, but...

She needed to handle this first step herself. She undid the latch, but paused before she lifted the lid and took a deep breath. She looked up at him.

“Whatever this is, Jack, I need you to keep in mind that if those remains are your parents, the chances my family had nothing to do with it are slim to none.”

He knew she was right. That all the ways this was twisting was likely leading to a very clear place. Maybe that should matter to him, but with her staring at him like that, all emotionally wounded, it just didn’t.

“Maybe.”

She shook her head, and her eyes were a little shiny, enough to make his heart twist. When she spoke, though, she was firm.

“Not maybe. Basic reason.”

“You’re not your family, Chloe.” He wished he could make her believe that. Wished there were some magical words he could find to erase all that pain for her.

“But they’re mine all the same,” she muttered, then lifted the lid.

She jumped back with a little shriek he’d never once heard come out of her. He moved, with half a thought to protect her from whatever was inside, but the scene in the chest had him recoiling as well.

Dolls. A lot of them. Mutilated and smeared in what Jack could only assume had been blood.