Killer Cowboy (Cowboys of Holiday Ranch)
A cowboy cop tracks down a perilous passion in New York Times bestselling author Carla Cassidy’s explosive new thriller!
For Cassie Peterson, finding out her new ranch was the site of a cold case is horrifying. But now one of her cowboys has been murdered, just like the previous victims! Cassie will do whatever it takes to help Chief of Police Dillon Bowie find the killer, but will getting close to the handsome lawman put more than her home at risk?
Dillon’s been working hard to crack the original case—and keep feisty Cassie out of his thoughts. But when disturbing new clues prove the murderer is obsessed with Cassie, Dillon will tempt fate to guard the beauty and solve a terrifying mystery.
Dillon didn’t plan it, but before he knew it, Cassie was in his arms.
As she raised her face he captured her lips with his. She tasted of chocolate and raspberry and white-hot desire, and her body was invitingly warm against his.
She curled into him as if wanting to be as close as possible. Dillon reached a hand up. He stroked it through her springy soft hair and deepened the kiss.
He finally tore his mouth from hers and peered down at her. “Was that a mistake?” she asked as she raised a finger to her lower lip.
“Probably,” he replied. “There’s something about you that makes me want more...”
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exciting miniseries:
Cowboys of Holiday Ranch—Where sun, earth
and hard work turn men into rugged cowboys...
and irresistible heroes!
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Dear Reader,
You have spoken and I’ve been listening. I appreciate all of you who have followed the series so far. And now, finally the mystery of the skeletons found on the Holiday Ranch will be solved. When one of Cassie’s cowboys is found dead, the investigation kicks into high gear.
Chief of Police Dillon Bowie has been haunted by the murders that took place so long ago, and now it looks as if that murderer is active again. He has always believed that one of Cassie’s ranch hands was responsible; now all he has to do is prove it.
Cassie has faith in all of her cowboys, and it irritates her that Dillon believes one of them is a monster. But when somebody comes after her, it’s Dillon who moves into the house to protect her.
As far as I’m concerned there is nothing more sexy than a man who has your back both in good times and in dangerous times. It doesn’t take much time for attraction to grow between the handsome lawman and Cassie. But can he keep her alive until the killer is caught?
Just because Killer Cowboy solves the mystery of the skeletons doesn’t mean I’m ready to leave the Holiday Ranch yet. There are still plenty of hot cowboys left who deserve their happy endings.
Stay tuned and keep reading!
Best,
KILLER COWBOY
Carla Cassidy
Carla Cassidy is an award-winning, New York Times bestselling author who has written more than 120 novels for Harlequin. In 1995, she won Best Silhouette Romance from RT Book Reviews for Anything for Danny. In 1998, she won a Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series from RT Book Reviews. Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write.
Books by Carla Cassidy
Harlequin Romantic Suspense
Cowboys of Holiday Ranch
A Real Cowboy
Cowboy of Interest
Cowboy Under Fire
Cowboy at Arms
Operation Cowboy Daddy
Killer Cowboy
The Coltons of Shadow Creek
Colton’s Secret Son
The Coltons of Texas
Colton Cowboy Hideout
The Coltons of Oklahoma
The Colton Bodyguard
Men of Wolf Creek
Cold Case, Hot Accomplice
Lethal Lawman
Lone Wolf Standing
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Excerpt from Take It to the Grave (Part 1 Of 6) by Zoe Carter
Chapter 1
An elephant stood on Cassie Peterson’s head. Boom. Boom. Boom. No, not standing. The darned behemoth was happily dancing on her skull, shooting out excruciating pain with each two-step.
She closed her gaping mouth and frowned at the nasty taste. Apparently, a carnival had also set up camp there and left behind a fuzzy tongue and the lingering taste of apple cider.
She cracked open an eyelid and groaned. No elephant in the bedroom. It was just a hangover from hell. How many glasses of Abe Breckenridge’s famous apple cider had she drunk last night? And what on earth had he spiked it with?
Her headache continued to bang as she rolled over on her back and stared up at the ceiling. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d suffered this kind of a hangover.
She also remembered very little of the last hour of the barn dance she’d thrown the night before. Despite her head pain a small smile curved her lips.
The barn dance had been a rousing success. Nearly everyone who lived in the small town of Bitterroot, Oklahoma, had attended.
Besides the fancy Western wear, some of the attendees had gotten into the Halloween spirit and dressed in costumes. The Croakin’ Frogs band had provided the music and there had been plenty of eating, dancing and drinking.
Oh, she’d danced and drunk way too much. She needed to get out of bed. She had a barn to get cleaned up, but before that she hoped a long, hot shower would make her feel at least halfway human again.
With a groan she rolled out of the bed and padded into the adjoining bathroom. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and another low moan escaped her. Her curly blond hair was in tangles and mascara had moved from her lashes to form dark shadows beneath her eyes.
She looked like she’d been ridden hard and put away wet. “You wish,” she said ruefully to the reflection and then turned her back and started the water for a shower.
Thirty minutes later Cassie headed down the stairs, feeling only marginally more human. Clad in a pair of her favorite jeans and a navy blue sweatshirt, she almost felt ready to face the day, although her head still banged with a fury, and she swore she would never drink apple cider again.
The scent of coffee wafted in the air and she assumed the ranch foreman, Adam Benson, had come in and was waiting for her in the kitchen.
She stepped into the bright, airy room and halted at the sight of Halena Redwing seated at the table with a cup of coffee in hand.
The old Choctaw woman wore a floral caftan from Cassie’s closet and a cowboy hat and smiled with a knowing glint in her eyes. “You look like a woman who had too good a time last night.”
Cassie moved over to the coffeepot and poured herself a cup and then joined Halena at the table. “I’m no
t sure my good time last night was worth my headache this morning.”
“Greasy eggs, that’s what you need.” Halena got up and walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out the egg carton and a container of bacon fat.
“Ugh, that sounds awful.”
“Greasy eggs and toast are great for a hangover.” She leaned down and pulled out the skillet from a lower cabinet. “And I hope you remember that last night you said it was okay if I crashed out on your sofa and got something out of your closet to wear.”
Cassie nodded and took a sip of her coffee. She vaguely remembered Tony Nakni, her ranch hand, asking her if Halena could spend the night because he and Halena’s granddaughter had to get home early to take care of their precious little baby boy, whom they had left with a babysitter for the first time.
“Whose hat are you wearing?” Cassie asked in an attempt to get her mind off the pounding of her head and the slight nausea that arose from the scent of the melting bacon fat.
“Sawyer’s.” Halena turned from the stove and flashed Cassie a slightly naughty grin. “That boy is handsome as sin but he can’t hold his liquor worth a damn. He passed out on one of the hay bales and I thought he might roll over and crush this hat, so I took it for the night.”
Cassie couldn’t help but smile as she thought of Sawyer Quincy. He was one of twelve cowboys she’d inherited when her aunt Cass had been killed in a tornado and left the huge ranch to Cassie six months before.
“Have any of the other men been in this morning?” she asked.
“Haven’t seen hide nor hair of them.” Halena cracked two eggs into the skillet.
Cassie wasn’t surprised. She’d told the men to take the morning off, knowing that everyone would need some time to recuperate after last night’s festivities. If they all felt as bad as she did, it might take a month for everyone to recuperate.
She sipped her coffee and stared out the window to the big barn in the distance. The party was supposed to be a turning point for her. She’d promised herself that once it was over she’d make a final decision about staying in Bitterroot or selling the ranch and returning to her old life in New York City. But this morning her head was much too fuzzy to even contemplate making a life-changing decision.
“Here you go.” Halena set a plate in front of Cassie.
Cassie stared down at the toast and the two eggs with bright yellow, runny yolks and her stomach threatened to rebel.
“Eat up. Consider it medicine.” Halena sat back down at the table.
“I’m more of an egg white kind of person,” Cassie replied uneasily.
“That’s just the big city in you doing the talking,” Halena scoffed. “A little egg yolk never hurt anyone.”
As Cassie forced herself to eat, Halena regaled her with stories from the night before. “I danced with every one of your cowboys. I even grabbed Dillon Bowie and forced him to two-step with me.”
Cassie’s heart jumped just a little at the mention of Bitterroot’s chief of police. She had a bit of a crush on the dark-haired, gray-eyed man. But he’d given her no indication that he returned the feeling. In any case, it didn’t matter if she was going to sell out and move on.
The back door opened and Adam Benson, the ranch foreman, walked in. “Good morning,” he said and then smiled wryly. “Or is it?”
“She has a hangover, but she’ll be fine once she finishes those eggs,” Halena said.
Adam walked over to the coffeepot, poured himself a cup and then joined the two women at the table. “Heck of a shindig you threw last night.”
“Remind me never again to drink Abe’s special apple cider,” Cassie replied.
“We all think his special ingredient is pure grain alcohol.”
“Whatever it is, it’s deadly,” Cassie replied.
Adam turned to smile at Halena. “You were definitely the belle of the ball.”
“I can’t help it that men desire me and women envy me,” Halena replied and tossed one of her long silver braids over her shoulder. Cassie would have laughed if she wasn’t afraid her head might fall off.
“I’m assuming barn cleanup is on the agenda for the day,” Adam said to Cassie.
She nodded and shoved her half-empty plate aside. “I’ll walk through it this morning and see exactly what needs to be done to put things back to normal.”
Halena got up and filled a large glass of water and then set it before Cassie. “Hydrate,” she commanded.
Cassie smiled at the old woman. “Thanks, Halena.”
“Thanks for what?”
“For taking care of a stupid woman who drank way too much last night.”
“I think everyone drank too much last night,” Adam replied.
Halena stood and took off Sawyer’s cowboy hat. “I’d better get upstairs and change. Tony and Mary should be here anytime to pick me up. Will you see to it that Sawyer gets his hat back?”
“No problem,” Cassie replied. “I was glad to see that the new hires seemed comfortable last night,” she said when the older woman had left the kitchen. Two weeks ago she’d hired three new ranch hands.
“They’re working out great and all the other men like them,” Adam replied. “I was surprised to see some of Humes’s men here last night. I wasn’t aware you were going to invite them.”
“I didn’t.” She paused to gulp down the glass of water and then continued, “They crashed. Thank goodness they didn’t hang around too long.” Raymond Humes owned the ranch next to hers, and his ranch hands were ill-mannered, mean-spirited men who enjoyed wreaking havoc anywhere they went, but especially on the Holiday ranch.
There was plenty of bad blood between her ranch and theirs. However, Raymond had made a generous offer to buy the ranch from her if she decided to sell.
She and Adam chatted for another half an hour and by then Halena had left, and the two of them got up from the table to head down to the barn.
“Halena’s greasy eggs actually worked,” she said as they stepped out the back door. “I’m feeling much better than I did when I first pulled myself out of bed.” She drew in a deep breath of the clean country air and was happy to notice her headache had vanished.
The late-October sun was warm, although a cool breeze rustled through the last of the autumn leaves on the trees. New York’s Central Park would be beautiful this time of year. She shoved the errant thought out of her head. She needed to stay focused on the here and now.
Still, there was beauty here, too. The sky was a gorgeous shade of blue, and the acres of land wore various shades of greens and browns like a patchwork quilt.
“I hope you keep feeling good after you see the condition of the barn,” Adam replied ruefully.
“Oh, I’m expecting a mess,” she assured him.
“One thing is for certain. People will be talking about the party for days to come. They’ll gossip about who danced with whom and whose dress was too short or whose blouse was too tight.”
“Uh-oh, that sounds like they’ll be talking about me,” Cassie said jokingly.
Adam’s dark brown eyes were warm as he grinned. “You looked beautiful last night, as you always do.” He quickly averted his gaze from her.
“Thanks, Adam,” she replied. “Now, let’s go see the damage.”
As they took off walking, Cassie thought about the man next to her. She’d come to the ranch as a city girl, a struggling shop owner, who had dreams of being a famous artist. She hadn’t known anything about cattle or ranches.
It had been Adam who had taken her by the hand and walked her through a learning process. He’d been so patient and kind and she never would have been able to manage running this place without him. She still learned something new from him every day.
He was also very easy on the eyes, with his dark brown hair and strong features. His shoulders were broad, his hips lean, and at times when he looked at her he made her feel like a desirable woman. But having a personal relationship with her ranch foreman wasn’t a particularly good idea, and sh
e just didn’t feel that way about him, not that he’d ever made an advance.
They walked past the stables, and in the distance were the cowboy quarters, or the cowboy motel as they all called it. There were twelve small apartment units and in the back of the building was a large dining/recreation space.
Her aunt Cass Holiday had built an empire here, along with the help of twelve fiercely loyal cowboys. But this had never been Cassie’s dream. She’d been here for almost six months and it still didn’t feel like home.
As they approached the barn entrance she stifled a moan. The remains of the night’s fun were already evident. Plastic cups were strewn around the area, along with paper plates and beer and other alcohol bottles.
“Doesn’t anyone know how to use a trash bin anymore?” she said more to herself than to Adam.
“Hopefully knocking down the bandstand and picking up trash are the only real jobs needed,” Adam replied.
They walked through the large double doors and Cassie’s nose was instantly assaulted by the lingering odors of body sweat, booze and barbecue.
Many of the bales of hay had been transformed into loose hay piles, and the orange and black streamers and Halloween decorations were either on the floor or tilted drunkenly on the walls.
A large tin tub held a few sad apples that bobbed listlessly on the small amount of water that remained, and a red-and-white woman’s blouse hung on the arm of the blow-up skeleton.
“Uh-oh, who went home topless?” Cassie asked.
Adam grinned. “Amanda Wright, although she wasn’t completely topless. She had on a red, white and blue sparkly bra last time I saw her.”
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