Page 452 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

She hurried back to her vehicle. An ice scraper and a flashlight rested in the side panel of her truck. Claire grabbed both.

Claire circled Faye’s vehicle, her gaze sweeping the area, following the path of her flashlight. Nothing littered the ground or seemed out of place. She scraped some ice off the driver’s side window and shone the light inside the SUV. Faye’s purse sat on the floorboard and her cell phone, connected to the charger, rested in the cup holder. The knot of worry and concern inside Claire’s stomach grew. Pulling on a set of gloves, she opened the door, touching as little as possible.

She shone the light into the interior of the SUV. Faye wasn’t in the back seat. Her wallet was open, the contents spilled across the interior carpeting. The sight heightened Claire’s anxiety. She backed away and trailed her flashlight beam along the side of the vehicle. Nothing.

She circled around the front of the vehicle. Her heart stuttered as the beam flashed across the front bumper.

Blood.

It was a dark smear on the chrome. More droplets sprinkled the pavement. Claire followed the trail to the edge of the road. A woman’s black ballerina shoe lay on the grass. Another was several feet away. The ditch swelled with rain water. A culvert acted as a makeshift bridge to the forest. Claire ran across, her flashlight beam bouncing with every step. “Faye!”

Silence. Claire scanned the tree line. A short distance away, something pale caught her attention. A bare foot stuck out from the underbrush.

The blood roared in Claire’s ears. She wanted to run away. Duty and a sliver of hope kept her moving forward.Please, Lord. Please don’t let it be true.

Grass crunched under Claire’s boots. A biting chill that had nothing to do with the frigid weather settled over her. Into her. The flashlight passed over the woman’s chest. Blood stained the blouse. A lot of blood. Too much blood.

“Faye!” Claire bolted to her friend’s side and dropped to her knees. Icy water seeped through the fabric of her uniform, but she barely felt it. She tore one of her gloves off. It fell to the ground. Faye’s skin was as pale as snow, her eyes closed. If she was breathing, it wasn’t evident.

With shaking fingers, tears streaming unbidden down her face, Claire reached a trembling hand toward Faye’s neck, praying with every cell in her body that she’d find a pulse.

CHAPTER TWO

Texas Ranger Gavin Sterling guzzled the last of his coffee before shoving open his truck door. Bitterly cold wind stole his breath. He zipped his heavy jacket then settled his Stetson on his head. Yellow crime scene tape fluttered across several tree branches. A coroner’s van was parked between two Fulton County Sheriff patrol cars. Swollen, dark clouds overhead promised more rain.

It was a miserable day to be at a crime scene, but Gavin hadn’t joined law enforcement to sit behind a desk. Someone had been murdered. It was his job to find the killer and get justice.

He spotted Sheriff Claire Wilson and headed in her direction. Gavin had met the sheriff at a fellow ranger’s wedding last week. The petite blond had knocked his socks off in a beautiful silk dress that brought out the crystal blue color of her eyes, but they hadn’t gotten further than brief introductions. Claire had ducked out of the reception early.

Today, she was wearing a heavy jacket with the word sheriff written on the back. Her shoulder-length hair was pulled into a low ponytail. Mud coated her shoes. She was staring at the tree line with a look Gavin couldn’t quite place. Sensing hisapproach, she turned. Claire’s eyes were red-rimmed, as if she was on the verge of crying.

Gavin’s heart sank. He recognized the pain etched on her expression before she smoothed it out. Claire had known the victim. Probably well. It might even be a relative.

“Ranger Sterling, thank you for coming so quickly.” Claire cleared her throat and extended a hand. “Especially since you drove across two counties in awful weather to get here.”

Gavin didn’t normally work in Fulton County. His friend and colleague, Bennett Knox, handled this area. But Bennett and his new wife, Emilia, were currently on their honeymoon after their wedding last week—the same wedding Claire and Gavin had first met at. Claire had been a bridesmaid. She’d been instrumental in taking down a serial killer last year and, as a result, had forged a close friendship with Emilia.

“No need to thank me, Sheriff.” Gavin slipped his hand into hers. Claire’s grip was firm, her skin silky. He ignored the jolt of attraction coursing up his arm. As the newest member of Company A, Gavin had no desire to mix his personal life with his professional one. “I’m glad to assist in any way I can. And you can call me Gavin.”

She nodded. “Claire, then.”

Gavin dropped her hand. He jerked his chin toward the crime scene tape. “What can you tell me?”

“The victim is thirty-five-year-old Faye Hansen.” Claire met his eyes. “She was one of my best friends. Which brings me to my first order of business. You won’t be just assisting with this case. You’ll be the lead investigator.”

“I don’t mind being in charge, but…” He tilted his head, studying her. “Why hand the case to me?”

“I can’t guarantee my objectivity. As I said before, Faye and I were close. When we catch the monster who did this—and we will catch him—I don’t want a defense attorney using myrelationship with the victim against us in court. This case has to be rock solid.”

Gavin’s esteem for Claire as a law enforcement officer went up several notches. Handing over control of a case wasn’t common. It was clear her focus was on getting justice, not the credit. Bennett said Claire was one of the best he’d ever worked with. Gavin understood why and he’d only been with her for three minutes.

He nodded sharply. “Understood. And on a personal note, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before leading him further into the crime scene. “Okay, as I said, the victim is Faye Hansen. Caucasian. Single, no children. Her sister, Mary Ellen, called me personally this morning because she hadn’t been able to reach Faye since yesterday evening.”

“I take it that was out-of-the-ordinary?”

“Extremely. Faye and Mary Ellen own a bakery in town together. They talk and text numerous times per day.” Claire gestured up the road. “Faye lives about five miles that way. This is the route she normally takes to get home. And this is her SUV.”