Page 2 of Fatal Deception

Cremains.

And her name.

But she was here, and alive, so there was some kind ofmistake. She had to remind herself of that in order to take a breath.

A mistake. Similar to when the power had mistakenly gone out for three days right around Rosalie’s wedding because someone had called the power company and told them she was dead.

Then there were the messages she kept getting from a cemetery one town over.

Audra put down the urn, then stepped back. She rubbed at the tight band of stress that tensed in her chest, frustrated to have such a visceral response over amistake. It wasn’t like her.

Even when different types of trouble cropped up around the county, sometimes affecting her loved ones, friends, or neighbors, Audra rarely worried. Anyone who knew her thought she was a soft, sweet thing. And she supposed, in some respects, she was.

But she was tougher than anyone gave her credit for and had the target-shooting awards to prove it.

The problem was…shootingwasn’t going to get her out of her identity somehow getting mixed up with a dead woman’s, and Audra didn’t have the first clue how to solve that problem.

She couldn’t go to Rosalie. What was her sister going to do fromRome, where she was having the most amazing and romantic honeymoonever? Audra didn’t want to go to Thomas, her cousin’s husband—not with Vi so close to her due date.

But there was someone who would help, who wouldn’t worry. Someone Audra couldn’t pretend sheliked, but… Well, he wasn’t all bad.

She hoped.

COPELANDBECKETT SATat the desk that he shared with another detective and sipped the horrible coffee he’d poured himself after arriving at the Bent County Sherriff’s Department.

Laurel Delaney-Carson was already out on a case this morning, and Thomas Hart was coming in late in order to go to a doctor’s appointment with his wife.

Things had quieted down lately, which was good for Bent County, but left Copeland feeling…edgy. Too much time where his brain wasn’t actively engaged left it free to do its own thing.

No thanks.

So he was happy when someone walked into his office even if, had he placed a bet on who’d walk into his office on this cold, gray morning, she wouldn’t have even been on the list.

He stood. There was something about Audra Young that seemed to call for a chivalry he would have claimed he didn’t possess. Cowboy-code nonsense.

He was definitely no cowboy, but he supposed she was, in a manner of speaking.

“Hart isn’t in yet,” Copeland said by way of greeting.

Her polite smile didn’t change, but her blue eyes got a little frosty. She was the kind of woman that could be polite and frosty all in one look, and Copeland found on the seemingly soft and quiet Audra Young, he didn’t know what the hell to do with it.

Or her.

He wouldn’t say that she was prettier than her sister, exactly. Rosalie was a short, annoying firecracker. Audra was a slim, icy…he didn’t know. Sometimes she reminded him of a statue of a goddess. All untouchable ivory. Her hair wasn’t as red as Rosalie’s, but it leaned that way. Her eyes weren’t nearly as violet as her sister’s. They were a dark, summer-sky-blue.

She was dressed in what he’d learned was the typical uniform for ranchers around these parts. Boots. Lots of denim and flannel. Hair in a long braid down her back. She didn’t wear a hat, but he had no doubt there’d be a Stetson on the dash of her giant truck.

He knew she didn’t like him. No matter that he’d helped find her cousin when the woman had been kidnapped. Never mind that he’d apologized to her sister when their concurrent investigations had led to Rosalie getting injured.

He knew when a woman didn’t like him, because it was a rare thing indeed. Oh, he was an abrasive SOB, but women found him charming, or interesting, or a challenge.

Except the Young sisters. It was annoying from Rosalie because she was a private investigator, so she was always hounding him for information. But from Audra…well, Copeland wouldn’t count it asannoyed.

So he smiled because he was a little perverse and wanted to see how far he could make that dislike go.

“I wasn’t looking for Thomas this morning,” she said carefully, shifting a box she carried in her arms. “I have a problem that I’d like your help with.” She powered on before hecould even register shock. She moved forward and put the box on the desk between them. “This was sent to me.”

Copeland raised an eyebrow at the bright orange sticker that read Cremated Remains. He peered in the box. A shiny black urn sat in there. He might have thought nothing of it except the plaque on it readAudra Gail Young.