Colton 911: Caught In The Crossfire
Colton 911: Caught in the Crossfire He can handle killers, but one woman leaves him defenceless When ranch hand Melody Hayworth insists on working a case of cattle rustling with Deputy Sheriff Casey Colton, she disarms Casey-in more ways than one. As passion ignites on the range, Casey must resist letting down his guard-which could cost him more than he ever expected.
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From hunting cattle rustlers
To being hunted by a killer
Investigating cattle rustlers seems like a typical day on the job for Deputy Sheriff Casey Colton. But when ranch hand Melody Hayworth insists on working the case with him, he’s reluctant to involve a civilian. Fighting their growing bond while tracking lawbreakers proves no easy task. And as Casey and Melody stumble across a corpse, they’re caught in a criminal’s crosshairs. The deputy’s new mission? Protect Melody and find the killer before it’s too late.
LINDA O. JOHNSTON loves to write. While honing her writing skills, she worked in advertising and public relations, then became a lawyer…and enjoyed writing contracts. Linda’s first published fiction appeared in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine and won a Robert L. Fish Memorial Award for Best First Mystery Short Story of the Year. Linda now spends most of her time creating memorable tales of paranormal romance, romantic suspense and mystery. Visit her on the web at www.lindaojohnston.com
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ISBN: 978-1-474-09454-2
COLTON 911: CAUGHT IN THE CROSSFIRE
© 2019 Harlequin Books S.A.
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
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To my wonderful husband, Fred. Of course.
Contents
Note to Readers
Casey Colton dashed up the large stairway from the first floor of the sheriff’s department building in Sur County, Arizona. As deputy sheriff, he was used to taking orders, but the curt phone call he’d just received from his boss, Jeremy Krester, was more of a command. Jeremy was usually fairly laid-back, so that worried Casey.
“Hi, Bob,” he said as he entered Jeremy’s outer office, not stopping behind the desk stacked with folders but swerving around toward the door behind it.
Apparently Bob Andrews, a fellow deputy, had been informed of his pending presence. “Go on in,” said the young, wide-eyed guy, who was wearing a beige uniform that matched the one Casey wore. “Sheriff Krester’s expecting you.”
As Casey knew well.
He reached out, turned the doorknob and hurried inside. And stopped near the doorway. Sheriff Krester wasn’t alone.
Of course, Casey had expected to see his tall, thin, gray-haired boss sitting at the desk facing the door of the sizable office. He wore a similar uniform to Casey’s, too, but with a lot more decorations than the normal colorful shoulder patches of the Sur County Sheriff’s Department. And his badge was even more prominently displayed on his chest.
