Page 33 of Cowboy Peril

“There’s a box on your porch.”

Her heart leaped into her throat. Could they have caught the culprit on camera so soon? “Go back and check the laptop.”

He cut her a sideways look. “And leave you alone? Not a chance. We aren’t opening that box without gloves. Hudson told me to be more careful.”

“The only ones I have are pink leopard print that I use for cleaning.” She couldn’t help but grin at the thought of Colt wearing them.

“Come on. I have some in my house.” He hurried her to his place where he retrieved some thin latex gloves. Handing her a pair, he led her back home.

Parker grabbed the white box before he could and lifted the lid. She gasped and dropped it. A severed finger rolled a few inches across her porch. Nausea roiled in her stomach.

Colt sprang into action and grabbed the appendage, then dropped it back into the box. “There’s a business card.” He pulled it from the box and handed it to her.

“Oh.” She swallowed against the sourness rising in her throat. “It’s the private investigator’s card. Is this his finger?”

“If I had to make a guess, but let me get a hold of the sheriff’s office. Someone needs to check on the man.” Colt replaced the box on the railing, pulled his cell phone from his pocket, and left a message with the deputy on duty. He hung up and returned his attention to Parker. “They’ll get back to us after they check on him.”

“He’s in Little Rock.” She wrapped her arms around her waist, chilled despite it being a summer evening.

“Let’s go inside.” Leaving the box where he’d set it, he held out his hand. “Key.”

She dropped it into his palm, more than happy to let him take control. Once inside, she rushed to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face.

“Do you want me to make coffee?” Colt called out.

“Yes, thank you. I won’t be able to sleep until I find out what happened to Mr. Watson.” His name had made her smile when she’d hired him, thinking of Sherlock, but now her heart filled with dread at what might have happened to him.

Coffee made, they sat at her table for two. Parker spent more time staring into her cup than she did drinking it. How long until the sheriff’s department got back to them? “How will they find him?”

“The PI? Most likely, the department here will contact LRPD who will then send someone out to check on the man.” He reached over and put his hand over hers. “We wait, Parker. They’ll let us know.”

An hour later, a knock sounded at the door. Colt motioned for her to remain seated. “It’s Sheriff Westbrook.” He opened the door and let him in.

Parker jumped to her feet. “Well?”

“Mr. Miller was found shot dead in his bed and missing a finger. I’m going to assume the missing finger is in the box on your porch.” Sheriff Westbrook’s features hardened. “Let’s take a look at the camera footage, Colt.”

Parker stared over the two mens’ shoulders at nothing. Since the camera faced her front door, the person who left the box had been able to do so without stepping foot on the porch. “Maybe my idea of a string of cameras isn’t such a bad idea.”

“We definitely need more.” Colt closed the laptop. “What now, Sheriff?”

“The two of you try to get some sleep. I’d prefer it if you both moved into the main house or at least Parker. You could moveback to the bunkhouse until this is over. Anywhere the two of you aren’t alone.”

They headed back outside.

A shot rang out.

Colt wrapped his arms around Parker and dove off the deck. They landed in the bushes, her on top of him.

“Stay down,” the sheriff ordered. “Shot fired from the woods. I’m going after him.”

Colt rolled Parker off him. “Not alone, sir.” He started to get to his feet.

“It’s the two of you he’s after. Call for backup and do as I say.” Weapon in hand, the sheriff raced for the trees.

Chapter Fifteen

For the lasttwo days, Parker had dug through boxes and read her father’s journal. Both jobs were almost complete. With every box she opened, every line she read, she felt one step closer to discovering the identity of the man who had killed her parents.

---