Page 24 of Cowboy Peril

“What does the article say?”

She read for a few minutes, then glanced up with wide eyes. “It wasn’t a business trip. My father was being investigated for embezzlement. He wouldn’t, Colt. I know he wouldn’t.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions.” He took the paper from her hands and read it for himself. “He went there for questioning. We need to find out what the courts determined.”Ifit went to court. “My gut tells me this is the key. If your father didn’t embezzle anything, then somebody else did, and that someone—”

“Would kill to keep their identity unknown.” She paled. “Tanya was killed as a warning to me. The killer must suspect I’d go digging and might discover his identity.”

“Which we haven’t, but he won’t know that.” Colt folded the paper and stuffed it into his back pocket. “Maybe LRPD will have more information on this. There has to be records other than this article if there was an investigation into the alleged charges.”

She nodded, then gasped. “Colt…” She pointed at the stairs.

He turned.

Smoke curled over the edge of the floor and crawled toward them.

Chapter Eleven

“My house!” Parkerran for the stairs.

“Stop.” Colt grabbed her arm and pulled her to a halt. “Let me take a look first.”

“My house can’t burn; it just can’t. It’s all I have left of my parents.” Her words broke on a sob, then a cough.

Colt peered over the top of the attic stairs. “I don’t see flames, but stay behind me anyway.”

Tears streamed from her eyes, both from fear and the smoke. The house had insurance, but all her childhood memories were in the attic or her bedroom closet downstairs. They had to keep the house from burning.

“I don’t see any flames.” Once Colt reached the bottom of the stairs, he held out a hand to help Parker.

“Then, where’s the smoke coming from?” She coughed again.

He shrugged, then moved around the corner into the hall. “Parker.”

She followed. At his feet lay an almost depleted smoke bomb. “Why would someone—”

He yanked her into the nearest room, a bathroom. “Someone lured us from that attic.” He closed the door, then moved to the window.

“There’s no way down. Believe me, I would’ve used it during high school.” Parker sat on the closed toilet lid.

“I don’t see anyone, but I have a very bad feeling about this. I’m calling the police. We can stay in—”

The window shattered. He yelped and ducked, putting a hand to his head. His fingers came away sticky with blood.

“You’re shot!”

“No, it’s just from the glass fragments. Stay down.” He crawled toward her.

“Let me see.” She reached for him, fear threatening to choke her.

“I’m fine. You can doctor me later.” He pushed her hand down.

“But, we’re in a room with a medicine cabinet.” She frowned. “I can…”

“Sweetheart, now is not the time.” He cupped her cheek. “Let me figure out how to get us out of here alive.” He dialed 911 on his phone and placed a call for help.

“We can’t stay here. We’re sitting ducks.” Parker stood. “This time, let me be the hero. My father thought it cool to put secret passages in the house to help occupy me. I can get us outside easily enough. Then it’ll be up to you to get us to your truck.” She held out her hand. “Do you trust me?”

The expression on his face said otherwise, but he nodded and took her hand. He pulled his gun from the back waistband of his pants. “Lead on.”

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