A sigh escaped her. She probably should not have approached Wes. Indie knew she did that a lot, striking up a conversation and then, when things slid beyond her control, suddenly finding herself stuck in a violent relationship.

  “You’ve had your share?” he asked.

  “Don’t we all?” She kept it light, but deep down inside, the old feeling of impending failure fought to resurface.

  Wes grinned, but only slightly, and she suspected he didn’t feel the joy in it. “Yes, I suppose so. My mistake was rushing into my second marriage too fast. My first wife died.”

  Again, he sounded matter-of-fact, as though he could easily talk about this without feeling pain. Most likely he had a pretty stout wall erected around his heart right now. Indie could definitely relate to that after experiencing her own challenges in the relationship department. She struggled against letting that endear him to her, but it didn’t seem to be working.

  “Oh,” she said. “I’m so sorry...again.”

  At this point, she should say a polite farewell and never look back. She wasn’t the type of woman who felt compelled to fix broken men. Unfortunately, broken men were the only ones she found herself drawn to. She couldn’t afford another one. But Wes’s forthrightness captured her fascination. That and those intriguing blue eyes. More than their brilliance, she saw the will to stave off pain. And something else. Strength. How did she know? Just call it intuition.

  “How old are you?” she asked. “You have me curious, that’s all.”

  His lips quirked up again. “You had me curious from the moment you walked into the room.”

  “One look gave you all that?”

  “Call it intuition,” he murmured.

  The fact that he said that made her breathe a laugh. What were the odds? Did he think he read people as well as he seemed to?

  “Well, we were the only two people standing alone in a room full of people. Doesn’t that say enough right there?”

  When he chuckled, his entire face changed. Not the ruggedness, but his eyes lit up and a row of healthy white teeth flashed.

  Wow.

  “You’re a funny girl. I haven’t married one of those yet,” he said lightly.

  Married? Why had he said that? He must be joking.

  “I’m thirty-six. And you are...?” he asked.

  “Thirty-one. Married once.” What she would never say was what a whopper that experience had been. One of those failures that hung on for a lifetime. Enough for her.

  “Is there a reason it didn’t work out?” he prompted. “It can’t be because of your long blond hair and those gorgeous aqua blue eyes.” His gaze moved down her body again. “Or the rest of it.”

  Oh, gosh. He was so brazen! A laugh bubbled up.

  “The man must be a complete fool,” he added.

  Indie almost faltered at that. She had not been blameless in the downfall of her marriage, but, she admitted to herself, neither had she loved her ex-husband as much as she should have. “Then it must be my tendency to work from the moment I wake up to the time I close my eyes at night.” That should placate Wes enough, at least for now. She was grateful for the fun banter at a party where she was otherwise alone. Talking about her divorce usually ended with her in a puddle of tears.

  “How did you come to be invited to this shindig?” he asked.

  “I work for Dark Alley Investigations. I’m a private detective.”

  He nodded. “Ah. Like Julien.”

  She laughed again. “Yes. He and I work together.”

  “Maybe I should turn tail and run right now.” His eyes were mesmerizing when they twinkled like that.

  “I was thinking the same about you.” She was beginning to hope he wouldn’t run, actually. In fact, she was starting to think she’d like to see more of him.

  One of the waiters brought him another shot of what appeared to be whiskey.

  Indie observed him a moment and then put her glass of wine down. “You know, numbing your sorrows doesn’t usually work.”

  “It will for now.” Another faint, crooked grin lifted his mouth. Cynical. Unapologetic. He clearly walked his own path, and had no care about what others thought of him.

  This might be too soon to ask, but he had already been so blunt she didn’t see a reason not to. “So why did your marriage fail?” She was ready to return his truth with another equally forthright question.

  “To be honest, I have no idea. One day I thought she loved me and everything was fine and the next she went to her parents’ house, and now we are getting a divorce. Already filed.”

  He was still married? Technically, although he had already filed and it would soon be finalized. But still... Wes had said he married too soon after his first wife’s death. Surely that had something to do with it, if not everything?

  Again, this was where most women would say a polite farewell and be on their way. He was obviously still too emotionally raw—plus, he was still legally someone else’s husband—to be a prospect for her. She wasn’t looking for one anyway. Right? She sighed again. Why did she have to keep reminding herself of that? He wasn’t ready and neither was she.

  “She didn’t tell you why she left?” Indie continued.

  “She left without telling me anything. She didn’t want me to find her. I would have, but her parents lied about her staying there.”

  He would have found her? “And done what?”

  “Profess my love. I’m a hopeless romantic.” He sounded cynical again.

  She blew out a laugh. “You are not a hopeless romantic. You can’t be.” She gave him a once-over. “You look like a tough, ranch-man womanizer.” Cowboy hat, tanned skin like he spent much of his time in the sun, subtle wrinkles around his eyes...

  “Looks can be deceiving,” he reminded her.

  “Are you still in love with your soon-to-be ex-wife?” she asked.

  “No.”

  While she pondered over the calm and deliberate way he said that, someone appeared next to her. It was Julien.

  “Is this guy bothering you?” he teased.

  “No. We were just having a deep conversation.”

  Although he didn’t grin or laugh, Wes’s eyes glimmered with delight. It was hardly a deep conversation.

  Indie gestured to Wes and then said to Julien, “I assume you know each other?”

  “Yes, we do. How are you?” Julien asked Wes.

  “Doing well.”

  “Thanks for stopping by,” Julien said.

  “I figured it was time to get more social.”

  “If I’m not interrupting, why don’t you tell me about your latest case?” Julien said, turning to her. “I heard it could be a difficult one to solve.”

  “Who told you I have one?”

  “When do you not have one?” He chuckled. “You never stop working.”

  Indie caught Wes’s look. Julien had just confirmed she had told the truth.

  “It was Kadin who told me about the case,” Julien said.

  Kadin Tandy had started Dark Alley Investigations after the murder of his daughter. Since then, it had grown into a large, nationwide, and in some cases international, private investigations agency. After a career in the local police department, Indie had needed a change and joined DAI. Working for the agency satisfied her need to seek justice, whether or not a case was deemed cold.

  “A body was found in a remote area of a Dallas park. She was naked and had on a blindfold. There’s evidence of rape and she was stabbed nine times.” It was okay to reveal details of the case that had already been reported in the news in front of a stranger,

  “No leads?” Julien asked.

  “None. Police already interviewed everyone close to her. I plan on revisiting them.”

  “Who was she?” Wes interjected. “What do the police know?”

  “Her name is Mya Berry. She was twenty-four and has a four-year-old daughter,” she rattled off. “Not married, but she was divorced. The ex has an alibi. Her car was found at home, locked. The house was dark and also locked. Her purse and car keys are missing. She had gone out that night. Her friends said she left the bar at eleven. None of the neighbors saw her come home or anything else. Her daughter was at her parents’ house for the night.”

  She cleared her throat before continuing. “It looks like she either went willingly or was abducted by someone right outside her house, before she even entered, so somewhere between her car and the front door. Police said her ex-boyfriend is a person of interest, since he says he was at home during the time Mya disappeared. He’s not a suspect because he broke things off with her and kept saying how nice she was. He had no reason to kill her. People close to him and Mya corroborated that.”

  “Why did he break it off?” Julien asked curiously.

  “That’s what I to want to look into,” she answered. “Police report said he thought she was too quiet for him. Not much stimulating conversation. And also that she had a child.”

  “Where is the girl now?” Wes murmured.

  Indie thought she detected a note of concern in his voice. Maybe this tough cowboy had a soft side after all? “She’s still with Mya’s parents.”

  Wes wore a grim frown, as though he felt sorry for the child. Did he ever want kids of his own? The notion tickled her curiosity, even as she dismissed it.

  “Yeah, when there are kids involved that part of the job gets hard to deal with,” Julien admitted.

  “But makes me work that much more tenaciously to find the bad guy,” Indie said. She hadn’t yet met the little girl but it had to be difficult for everyone.

  “Who contacted DAI for help?” Julien asked.

  “Mya’s parents. After police informed her the case went cold, which was months later.”

  Julien nodded. “Well, I’m sure you’ll find a thread to pull. If you need any help, let me know.”

  “Will do.” Indie went quiet, reminded of something that had changed in her life recently.

  “You look like you already have one,” Julien said. “What’s the matter?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I’ve been getting these weird calls. Always on my work phone and always traced to a burner phone.”

  “What kind of calls?” Wes asked, looking concerned.

  “Nothing specific. The person on the other end never says anything. Just stays on the line while I say hello. Then hangs up. I traced the mobile equipment identifier—the MEID—to a cell tower near the park where Mya’s body was found. Then tried tracing the MEID to a store where the phone might have been purchased, but no luck there. The person—maybe it’s the same person who killed Mya—probably buys his phones on a street corner.” The whole point of having a burner phone was anonymity.

  “Sounds like the criminal might be nervous DAI was hired,” Julien said.

  Indie didn’t say anything. The idea that a murderer possibly knew who she was, how to contact her, and didn’t want her fishing for evidence made her uneasy. Sure, due to her police training, she was good with her gun and knew how defend herself, but she didn’t know anything yet about this killer, least of all what he looked like or where to find him. She wouldn’t know him if he stood right in front of her.

  Julien’s fiancée, Skylar, approached. She leaned toward Julien and he kissed her tenderly. Indie saw how Skylar looked at him, and could feel her love. Indie had never felt an emotion that potent before. She’d thought her ex-husband, Cole, had been the one, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. She didn’t know it wasn’t true love until it was too late.

  Wes’s masculine good looks reminded her that she would not allow herself to be wrong again.

  * * *

  Wes McCann saw how apprehensive Indie looked, talking about being stalked, and felt a sudden urge to keep her safe. It took him off guard. A woman like Indie Deboe did not need protecting. He didn’t know anything about her, but to be a detective at an agency like DAI, she had to be seasoned.

  He supposed part of the reason for his instinct was how her beauty struck him the moment he saw her. Blonde hair, blue-eyed and slender, fit body, with just the right sized breasts. And there was something else, the way she looked at him. He saw strength and interest in her gaze. But, oh, getting embroiled in another romantic entanglement was the last thing he should be doing right now. In fact, it would be totally bad for him. Nothing like making the same mistake—getting attracted to the wrong woman—yet again...

  It was time for him to go. He’d had enough social interaction to last him the rest of the week, and he decided to make a hasty exit. As he made his way to the door, he saw Indie also headed out.

  She glanced back and then did a double take. “Nice meeting you, Wes,” she said with a beautiful smile.

  “Nice meeting you,” he said. Too nice.

  He averted his gaze from her delectable rear and caught sight of a running car among the throng of others parked in the spacious circular driveway. A man was sitting inside and looking right at Indie. He wore a baseball hat and sunglasses, even though it was dark and going on ten at night.

  Wes pretended not to notice and wondered if Indie did the same. Or had she been distracted by seeing Wes again and aware of him behind her?

  He got into his truck and waited for her to drive away. Just to make sure she leaves safely, he told himself.

  But as she left, the man in the car followed. Was this the killer?

  Careful to keep his distance, Wes trailed behind Indie and the stranger all the way into Irving, where the pretty PI drove to what had to be her home. It was a newer neighborhood with houses that he estimated to be about twenty-five hundred to three thousand square feet. She pulled into a driveway. The stranger parked along the side of the street. Wes passed him, turned the next corner and parked out of sight. He’d wait to see what the stranger did. He knew Indie could take care of herself but the man in him intended to stop this person before he had a chance to reach her.

  Wes watched as the man got out of his car, now wearing a mask. The guy checked his pistol as if to see whether it was ready to fire. Then the intruder started for Indie’s house.

  This might be an extreme idea. He chased animals away from livestock, not people away from other people. Heart pumping as he refused to turn back, Wes alighted from his truck, Wes grabbed the rifle on a rack in the back seat of his truck and sprinted toward Indie’s house. He ran up Indie’s driveway and kept to the shrubbery as he crept around to the back. Peering around the corner, he spotted the stranger checking the back sliding door. It was locked. He checked the windows.

  The man’s head whipped in his direction. Seeing the rifle, the interloper turned and bolted. Wes chased him to the front of the house and down the driveway, mindful of the pistol. The man glanced back a couple of times as he ran, but never fired. He reached his car and the tires squealed as he raced away. Wes stood in the middle of the street and watched with the rifle lowered until the car vanished.

  Then he walked up the driveway to Indie’s front door, which opened before he could ring the bell.

  Indie looked around, her brow lowered.

  “You were followed home. He was armed,” he said.

  “I saw that a man was tailing me,” she replied grimly. Wes wondered when she had noticed the guy. Likely soon after leaving the Chelseys’.

  Stepping past her, he entered before she invited him. No way was he leaving her alone tonight. Sure, she was capable of protecting herself, but as a man he couldn’t step aside and do nothing.

  “Come on in,” Indie said, sassing him but in a lighthearted way.

  “Someone just followed you home,” he repeated. Propping the rifle against the wall next to the door, he faced her. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

  She looked down and then back up dubiously. “I’m trained for this.”

  “I know you’re experienced and capable, but I can’t, in good conscience, abandon you as though nothing dangerous just happened.”

  Wordlessly, she walked from the wide entryway where a stairway led up to the second level. He followed her around the stairs through a living and dining room, through an expansive arch leading to the kitchen. She went about filling a teakettle with water and then put it on the stove.

  At last she leaned against the counter and looked at him.

  “I don’t even know you,” she said.

  “I’d feel the same if I had never exchanged any words with someone who was being stalked by a deadly man. Do you think it was the killer you’re trying to apprehend?”

  “Yes,” she said, biting her lower lip briefly.

  She struck him as a woman who rarely showed emotion, someone toughened by life and her profession. Sort of like him...

  “It could also be a random stalker,” he mused.

  Even as the words left Wes’s mouth, he knew it didn’t matter who it was. If he hadn’t been there to chase him away, what would have happened? She had watched from the window and had been prepared with her pistol. If Wes needed help, she would have been more than ready.

  “I’m not working any other cases. There’s no one else it could be.” She averted her head as though a thought came to her.

  “Anyone in your personal life?” he asked.

  After a moment she shrugged. “I’ve had relationships that ended badly but I don’t think any of them would have it out for me like that. And it’s been almost a year since I’ve seen anyone.”

  From what little he knew, Wes doubted the stalker was someone from her past. So he was inclined to agree with Indie’s assessment. It made more sense that it was the killer she was after and the threat she presented working for an agency like DAI. He realized she was experienced and knew what to do if danger came her way, but she could have been harmed or murdered tonight, were it not for Wes scaring the person away. And the idea of this woman—whom he’d just met—being killed shook him to his core.