On June 22nd, CHASE releases! It’s book #4 in the Montana Bounty Hunters: Dead Horse, MT series—an offshoot of my Montana Bounty Hunters series. I’m still writing the story! Gah! I hate running it up to the wire, but I’ll get there. In the meantime, have you pre-ordered your copy? Read an excerpt below to get a hint of the fun I have in store for you!

Montana Bounty Hunters: Dead Horse, MT—CHASE

Pre-Order Now!

From the opening of Chase…

Chase Kudrow flipped down his visor to shut out the bright morning sun beaming through his windshield. He was parked on Main Street in Dead Horse, congratulating himself on his good sense in accepting the job with Montana Bounty Hunters’ Dead Horse office because he was here, hunting a skip, and not living out of his truck in bumfuck Colorado…or Wyoming…or Idaho. Sure, Cage Morgan, his new boss, had said they’d be looking for the richest bounties in a multi-state area when he’d offered him the job, but as luck would have it, today’s hunt was right in their own backyard.

Chase would never admit it to any of his new bounty hunter brothers, but he’d been ready to settle down and stop living out of a suitcase. He needed to put down roots and prove he could provide a stable home—to himself and to the caseworker handling his niece’s situation. No way in hell was he letting his blood relative, his little sister’s orphaned daughter, be raised by strangers.

The job offer had come at just the right moment. Although he’d feigned resistance to joining the hunters as part of their newly formed satellite agency, inside, he’d been jubilant. He’d hemmed and hawed for days, and he’d done his homework, reaching out to hunter friends in the Kalispell office to make sure this gig was legit, and that he could trust the people he’d be working with. The more he’d learned, the more certain he was that his accepting the job was meant to be.

Yes, there was a lot left to iron out. He had yet to find a house. Work had been pretty busy, but he’d be asking Cage for some time off to find a home and fill it with furniture and the things an eight-year-old might need or want, and for him to meet with local school officials to talk about what he’d need to get Mikayla enrolled. Then the hard work would begin to get Miss Tight-ass Bradshaw at Child and Family Services in Billings to sign off.

The last time she’d seen him, she’d shaken her head. “How do you think you can care for a little girl? You live like a gypsy, Mr. Kudrow. All your past mailing addresses have been forwarding services because you’re never in one place longer than a month. How are you going to be a father to Mikayla?”

He’d shifted in his chair, knowing his petition looked bad, but this was Audra’s girl. He hadn’t been there for her mother, hadn’t even had any idea how much trouble she’d been in. His mama, had she been alive, would have been so disappointed in him for his neglect while he’d been out living his life.

No more. He’d lived like a nomad since his days in the military. He’d liked seeing the world, but when he’d gotten fed up with the rigor and the rules he’d had to abide by in the Army, he’d left and found the one job ideally suited to his wandering ways. Even now, working from a home base in Dead Horse, bounty hunting allowed him to roam just far enough to keep from feeling that itch to pull up stakes and move, and it gave him the occasional adrenaline rush he craved. The targets were varied, and hunting them down never got boring. Except when he was on stakeouts, like this one.

Today’s target was Billy Calloway, one of the Calloway brothers who ran a junkyard east of town, who’d been busted with a shit-ton of stolen catalytic converters. He’d refused to give the DA the names of his suppliers so he was facing multiple charges for receiving stolen goods. Since he was a three-time offender, the judge had set his bail at $100,000—high for the crime, but Judge Hodges was setting an example for the other Calloways.

Then the dumbass skipped his court date…

Chase picked up the manila folder Fredericka “Fig” Newton, their office manager and tech guru, had prepared for all the hunters combing their hometown for this skip. Billy was a scrawny fucker, with greasy brown hair, a scruffy beard, and one eye that permanently looked down his nose. He’d be easy to spot.

The passenger door beside him opened, and Dylan “Preacher” Priestley, his new partner, climbed into the seat beside him holding a small pink box in his hand.

“Took your damn time,” Chase groused, not really concerned, but he and Preacher enjoyed that kind of relationship, always griping at each other but quick to jump into action when the situation called for it. Three weeks in, and Chase wondered how he’d ever gone it alone as a bounty hunter. Having a partner made things like boring-ass stakeouts kind of fun.

“They’re straight out of the oven,” Preacher said, opening the box to reveal two big donuts. Preacher’s hand hovered over them.

“Don’t even think about takin’ the one with the sprinkles,” Chase said, giving him a glare.

Preacher shrugged. “Sprinkles taste like chalky sugar anyway.” He plucked the pink glazed donut from the box and left the cream-colored one with sprinkles for Chase.

Chase plucked his from the box, took a bite, and groaned. “Don’t know how you aren’t fat.”

Preacher waggled his eyebrows. “She makes me work for them.”

“TMI, man,” Chase said, holding up a hand.

Preacher grinned. “Sorry it took so long. I had to taste wedding cakes when I was in there.”

Chase wrinkled his nose. “Way to kill my appetite, man. Weddings!” He gave a mock shudder.

Preacher chuckled. “Laura and Rhonda have this huge notebook. It takes up an entire table when they open it. It has polaroids of cakes and things to decorate the tables with, flower arrangements—”

Chase narrowed his eyes and looked out the windshield. “Rhonda’s in there?”

“Yeah, why?” Preacher shot him a sly sideways glance.

“Just wonderin’. Haven’t seen much of her lately. Her sister’s behind the counter at the Dem Bones Package Store every time I stop to buy beer.”

Preacher arched an eyebrow. “You crushing on Rhonda?”

Chase gave him a deadpan look. “I don’t crush on women. Just sayin’. She seems pretty busy with all that wedding shit.”

“She’s been a huge help to Laura. Says she loved planning her wedding more than she loved her ex-husband. Said it should have told her something.”

“Didn’t know she’s been married…”

“Yeah, for five years, until her husband up and left town with a massage therapist.”

“Must have been rubbing more than his back.”

Preacher shrugged. “Laura doesn’t talk much about him. Guess he left her the store and a pile of debt. She’s been digging herself out of that mess for years.”

Chase finished off his donut and followed it with a gargle of coffee straight from his thermos. When he screwed the lid back on, he glanced down the street. His attention was snagged by two men stepping out of Dead Center Guns & Pawn, both holding handguns and wearing camouflage masks pulled over their chins and noses. They were running toward a beat-up pickup parked alongside the curb.

“Think we got trouble,” he said to Preacher, tapping his ignition button and glancing up and down the street before punching the gas pedal and pulling out of his parking space.

“Damn.” Preacher hit the button on his radio. “Hey, Fig!”

“Yeah, Preacher. What’s up?”

“I think we’ve got a robbery in progress on Main Street. Saw two armed individuals coming out of the pawn shop. Call 9-1-1.”

“Roger, out.”

The tailpipe of the beat-up pickup belched smoke, and then the truck jumped the curb and careened down the street.

“We’re in pursuit,” Preacher said over his radio.

“You aren’t the cops,” Fig muttered back.

“We can tell them where these bastards land.”

UPDATE: The winner is…Lori Sisson.
*~*~*

I’m groggy today. I spent a good portion of the day trying to watch the inauguration while I was editing. Then, because I was obsessed with the TV, I turned everything off last night and painted. By the time I actually looked at a clock, it was past midnight! And of course, this a.m., I still had to be up to help get kids ready for online school and testing. So…groggy.

Today, I have tons more editing to do. Plus, I have to spend some time either writing or thinking about Hardman’s story. I almost have the opening scene done, and it’s a very fun takedown. On a cold-ass river. Guess who gets soaked to the bone by the skip? Yeah, you’ll have to wait.

But here’s a picture of a Montana river. Something to tide you over. I’ve used this landscape background before on a cover. I love it so much!

Contest

For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, tell me what “thing” you have to do today. Big or small. 

 Open Contests

Enter while you still can!

1. My day, so far… (Contest–2 Winners!) — Win a FREE book!
2. Tell me a story… (Puzzle-Contest) — Win a FREE book!
3. Cover Reveal! (Contest) — Win a FREE book!

UPDATE: The winner is…Jennifer Todd!
*~*~*

First, thank you to everyone who picked up their copy of Preacher! Thank you, thank you! And bless those who left a review. Very much appreciated! But if you’ve already read the book, you should be asking for the next story, and I didn’t leave that any big mystery whose story it will be…

His name’s Pierce Hardman.

This former SEAL thought BUD/S was hard, but convincing his new trainer that all work and no play doesn’t make a bigger, badder bounty hunter might just be the greatest challenge of his life…

Pre-order your copy now!

I’m not satisfied with that blurb, but blurbs are torturous and I suck at them. I’ll work on it.

In the meantime, can we celebrate the fact that we’re well into the Dead Horse, MT spinoff series now? I love everything about the town. Coming up with kooky names for the town’s businesses was completely fun and some readers helped with that! This is the reading order and includes the short story, “In the Wild”…

Click on the covers to learn more about these stories!

And then comes,

Contest

For a chance to win a copy of one of the original Montana Bounty Hunters stories, answer me this…

Since I have this wonderful, crazy little town of Dead Horse, should I plan to write some stories that don’t necessarily center around the bounty hunters just for fun? Would that be something you’d like to see?

Oh, and take a look at the cover reveal my dd put together for Hardman. Is this hot or what?

La-la-la-la… I’m so excited! And I just can’t hide it! And now, I have that song in my head, but I think I like it.

PREACHER’S OUT! Did I say it loud enough? 🙂

I’m excited for you all to read it. It’s Book #2 to feature the hunters in the Dead Horse, MT office. I had a ton of fun writing the story, and I think you’ll be able to tell. Nadine’s still my favorite Dead Horse oldtimer!

Well, I don’t know what else to say to entice you into reading the book. I think I’ve probably done enough. Oh, wait! Did I mention it’s FREE in Kindle Unlimited? 🙂

Follow the link!

Preacher

MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS: DEAD HORSE, MT
Authentic Men… Real Adventures…

An ex-Delta Force soldier, now Montana Bounty Hunter, finds himself slipping naturally into protector-mode when a small-town dessert chef is threatened by mysterious attacks.

Former Delta Force soldier, Dylan “Preacher” Priestley, is the latest hire for the newly formed office of Montana Bounty Hunters: Dead Horse, MT. He’s just settling into the job and getting to know the community when he meets the owner of Deadly Delights, Laura Pinchot. The attraction is immediate, but he finds he’s a little shy about approaching the curvy beauty, until a rock tossed through her store window gives him the “in” he needed.

Laura isn’t a life-long resident of Dead Horse, but she’s sunk her money into the donut shop and isn’t going anywhere. When a string of mysterious attacks target her store, she’s alarmed but doesn’t think it’s anything more than some kids’ pranks. However, when Preacher witnesses the latest assault against her business, she’s grateful for his quick thinking and protection when it appears the attacks are more personal than she’d imagined. That the handsome ex-soldier appears to be interested in her amazes her; she’s not exactly built like a model, but he quickly puts her insecurities to rest in the sexiest of ways.

With the support of his bounty hunter team, Preacher sticks close to Laura while the team tries to solve the mystery of who is after her. As their connection only grows hotter, he’s determined to keep her out of harm’s way.

Available in eBook now!
Also available in Print!
FREE in KU!

If you love the book, do me a HUGE favor. Tell someone else about it! Write a review! You’ll have my gratitude, and I’ll be soooooo much happier writing the next installment of my Montana Bounty Hunters: Dead Horse, MT series! And you really do want to see what’s coming next!

I’ve been writing now for a number of years in multiple genres. I can honestly say I’ve never had more fun than I have writing about my Montana Bounty Hunters. So, when I was approaching the last story of the last hunter in the series, I thought hard about what I wanted to do next. The solution was pretty easy.

I’d write more. However, the MBH agency in Bear Lodge, MT was chock full of hunters. I needed my bounty hunter agency to expand, so I chose another location in Montana, fictional again, of course, so I could have more fun with a new set of hunters, and this time, use the town itself as a new “character” in my story. So, welcome to Dead Horse!

The book will be available solely through Amazon, at first. I want as many folks who want to get it through Kindle Unlimited for FREE as possible. I already have the print version uploaded, too. That link will come soon. In the meantime, meet the first hunter in the series…Cage.

A former SEAL and MMA fighter, and now, newly minted bounty hunter, has to hunt down his first skip…his ex-wife.

Former SEAL Cage Morgan thinks he doesn’t need anyone. As a rising MMA fighter, he makes enough to do what he wants and doesn’t have to answer to anyone.

Then an old friend sends an emissary, Reaper Stenberg from the Montana Bounty Hunters, to offer him a job. He agrees to meet him, but he has no intention of becoming a bounty hunter…until he hears who Reaper needs his special skill set to take down—his ex-wife.

Elaine Morgan is facing jail time due to her chosen line of work. She runs an illegal, underground fight club with her brother. Up until now, she’s always run clean, fair fights, but her brother owes money to the wrong people. As she prepares to the take the rap for his poor judgment, she misses her court date—that’s just one more stressor to add to the pile, and she doesn’t have time to worry about the consequences.

Until the night of the fight that will free her brother of his dangerous debt. Only her ex-husband shows up there, telling her he’s taking her in, and he has the friends with him to get the job done. The hunters’ poor timing sets off a chain of events that has the Montana Bounty Hunters staging a daring rescue.

All the while, Cage and Elaine revisit their past love, finding that the time apart put their problems in a better perspective. As their connection grows, they both fear an uncertain future.

Pre-order here!

Opening scene from Cage…

As he approached the front door to the Dead Easy Saloon, Cage Morgan flexed his hands, wincing as he did so due to the deep bruising on his knuckles. Still, sore knuckles felt like a small price to pay considering the size of the purse he’d won the previous night at the MMA bout in Bozeman.

Thinking about the $36,000 deposit he’d made at the bank that morning, he wondered why the hell he’d agreed to this meeting in the first place. Cage’s needs were simple, and the purse would pay his bills for the next four to six months until he accepted the next match.

However, he owed Fetch Winter the courtesy of meeting with his representative to talk about the possibility of a job. He didn’t owe him a “yes,” but he had agreed to listen. Fetch had led the unit that had pulled his ass out of a firefight which had killed several of his SEAL teammates back in Afghanistan a lifetime ago.

From the outside, the meeting place was like any other roadhouse bar. Wood plank siding, a tin roof, and a red neon “Open” sign. He climbed the three steps to the porch then opened the door. Music played on a jukebox, customers lined a well-polished counter, and in the rear, the crack of striking balls and groans sounded from the pool tables.

As he passed the bar, the bartender’s gaze narrowed on him, and then a broad smile spread. He lifted his chin to Cage. “Great fight last night.”

Cage lifted his eyebrows and gave him a little salute but didn’t stop. He made his way to a small round table tucked into a corner of the main room and took a seat.

A waitress with dirty blonde hair so straight it had to have been ironed paused beside his table. “What can I get ya, hon?”

Her smile was flirtatious, and while she was kind of cute for a middle-aged woman in a skin-tight tank with the bar’s logo on the front and short blue-jean shorts, he wasn’t interested in encouraging her to linger. “Whatever beer’s on tap will do,” he said and pulled a twenty from his wallet.

She smiled and moved away, her skinny hips wagging.

She was back inside a minute with a foamy beer and handed back his twenty. “Kip, the bartender, says it’s on the house. He won a pile of money last night on your fight.”

He pushed back the twenty. “You keep it then, and thank Kip.”

Just then, a commotion sounded at the entrance of the bar. “Damn, are you Reaper, that dude on TV?” asked a man who was holding onto the arm of a large man wearing a ballcap who was trying to get through the doorway.

Cage watched as the man who looked like he belonged on a Viking longboat shook the man off his arm.

Cage couldn’t make out what he said to the smaller man, but the guy held up his hands and backed away, grinning. As soon as the big man’s attention left him, he scurried to the bar, leaning over the counter to talk to Kip, whose gaze shot to the big man.

He watched the man in the ballcap grimace then step deeper inside the bar, his eyes narrowing as he searched the counter and then the tables. Cage knew the second when his gaze came to rest on Cage, because the other man tipped his chin before striding his way.

As the man approached, Cage assessed him like he always did, sizing him up as a possible opponent in the ring. They were of a similar height and weight. His arms and chest looked powerful. However, Cage could tell by the way the man moved that he wouldn’t have his same speed. Not that he was planning to fight this guy, but old habits died hard.

The big man stopped in front of his table. “You Cage Morgan?”

Cage nodded.

The man sat and whipped off his cap. “Thought the hat would work.”

Cage’s mouth twitched. “That was supposed to be some kind of disguise?”

The other man made a sound a bear might make just before it took a bite. “Fetch sent me.”

“I figured.”

“Said I was to try to schmooze you into taking a job.”

“I’ve been wondering why he isn’t here to do it himself.”

The other man raked a hand through his long blond hair. “I’m here to set up the satellite office. He’d have come, but he said we didn’t need the big guns. That you’d want this job once you heard what it was all about.”

Cage grunted and sat back in his chair. “You’re the guy in that reality TV show.”

Reaper gave him a dead-eyed look. “If I wasn’t makin’ bank, I’d take exception to your tone, dude.”

Cage snapped his fingers. “What’s it called?” He pretended the name escaped him.

“Bounty Hunters of the Northwest,” the other man said, sounding bored.

“Right!” Cage grinned. “I liked the episode when that wild man chased the bear.”

“His name’s Animal.”

Cage chuckled. “Fits.” He picked up his beer and drew on it, not knowing exactly why he was trying to rile the other man. Maybe it was because he viewed him as a competitor, and his instinct was to start the psych-out before a fight. Or maybe it was because he wanted to make sure the man didn’t waste a lot of time trying to convince him to take a damn job he didn’t want. “Can’t remember your name, though,” he lied.

“Reaper. Reaper Stenberg,” the big man said, his words a little garbled like he was grinding his teeth.

“Right,” Cage said. He took another swallow and waited for Reaper to give his pitch, but the waitress sauntered over again.

Her gaze went from Cage to Reaper, and Cage knew what was on her mind. Too bad for her, he knew Reaper was married, and he flat didn’t get into bed with another man, even if their dicks never touched.

“He’ll have the same as I’m having,” Cage said to hurry her away.

She was back inside a minute and set a beer in front of Reaper. He handed her a twenty.

“No, Kip said it’s free. He watches your show,” the woman said, sounding out of breath.

“Keep the tip,” Reaper said than turned his attention back to Cage.

The woman’s mouth tightened, but she moved along to another table.

“Saw you fight in Bozeman last night,” he said, his gaze direct.

Cage curled his fists and grimaced at the throbbing ache. “McMann gave me a run for my money.”

“You fight well. Heard you came to MMA through less than legal fights.”

Cage gave him a hard stare. “That was a long time ago.”

“Three years.” He took a sip of his beer. “Least, that’s what I hear. Bareknuckle stuff’s not for sissies.”

Cage almost smiled at the grudging compliment. “No, it’s not, but it’s hard on the body.”

“We could use someone like you. Fetch says you were a SEAL.”

Cage straightened in his chair. “I was.”

“Marine,” Reaper said, pointing at his chest with his glass.

“Won’t hold it against you.”

Reaper’s mouth twitched. “We’re building an office here. Broke ground last week. We hope to hire on eight to ten hunters to cover southwest Montana and into Wyoming and Idaho.”

“Sounds ambitious. From your TV show, it looks like you guys are sweeping up all the trash. Sure you’re leaving enough work for another agency?” Cage didn’t know why he asked. He still wasn’t interested, but he was curious about what Fetch was hoping to accomplish.

“America has the highest incarceration rate in the world. Long as that doesn’t change, we’ll have plenty of bounties to go around. And it’s not just bounties on folks skipping their court dates or mandatory drug testing. We help find prison escapees, pitch in on law enforcement manhunts—anywhere our particular talents are needed. Our Bear Lodge office helped bring in a terrorist who was recruiting anti-government whackos intent on building an army here in Montana.”

“That all sounds fine and dandy for someone who wants to be a bounty hunter. I don’t.”

“Well, Fetch thinks you might change your mind when you hear who we’re hunting. He needs someone with your skills to get close enough to make the takedown.”

Cage narrowed his eyes. “My skills?”

“Your experience in those illegal fight clubs. You’ve got connections that can get you inside.”

Cage shook his head. He hadn’t been a part of that world in years. “Not interested.”

“Ask me who we’re hunting,” Reaper said, his expression neutral, his stare boring into Cage’s.

Cage was curious all right, but he didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want to know. He’d left that world and never looked back. Had the scars and the tattoo, thank you very much.

“Fetch explained how the money works, right? What a hunter gets as a percentage of the bond.”

“He did. And I still told him no.” Hunting people was something he’d done when he’d been in the Navy, and he’d been damn good at it. However, hunting Americans wasn’t something he had the stomach for.

“Ask me,” Reaper said, his voice lowering.

Cage wanted to tell him to go to hell. But he also wanted to know, because the hairs on the back of his neck were rising. Deep inside, he was still that man, the one who always found his target and always took him out. A cool dread washed over him, and he drew a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll bite. Who are you hunting?”

Reaper’s mouth curved. “Your wife.”

UPDATE: The winners are…Pansy Petal, Laura, and Debra Guyette!
*~*~*

I’m hard at work on Brian, the next installment if my Montana Bounty Hunters series, which releases on February 24th! Time is getting away from me! Seems I’m always running up against a deadline!

I can’t wait for you to read Brian’s story. I’ve had so many requests for his Happy Ever After, and I think you’ll love it. The man has issues, of course, but the heroine of the story isn’t letting him retreat from life or love. Raydeen is a strong, feisty heroine! Of course, along the way, you’ll see the other characters you’ve loved in this series.

In the meantime, catch up on the series as you get ready to enjoy Brian and Raydeen’s great adventure. If you haven’t already pre-ordered your copy of Brian’s story, here’s the link: Pre-Order Brian!

Enjoy reading an excerpt from another story in the series, Cochise. I loved, loved, loved writing his story! He’s a sexy, sexy man! You’ll see!

Cochise

MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS: Authentic Men… Real Adventures…

“Excellent… Cochise (Book 4) was exciting, fast-paced, scary, filled with plot twists, & with humorous moments… The bonus material, The Bounty Part, 2 was also A+++.”

A hunt deep in a national forest forges bonds between a bounty hunter and a woman desperate to find her sister

Former Army sniper, Cochise Mercier, left Denver SWAT under a cloud of controversy, which was why he ended up back home in Montana, and where he heard about the Montana Bounty Hunters. The “cloud” didn’t seem to bother his new boss, so he’s all in and finding he enjoys hunting down fugitives for bounties, encumbered by fewer rules.

Sammy McCallister is a by-the-book sheriff’s deputy, who has a beef with bounty hunters. Forced to stand by with her gun in her holster, while hunters take down scumbags, she’s particularly irked by the new guy in town. Cochise, with his long black hair and thousand-yard-stare makes her uncomfortable, itchy in ways she’s never felt before. When she finds herself needing his help, the reason for her irritation becomes all too clear. She wants him. But first, they must make it out of the mountains alive…

Contest

Are you all caught up reading the Montana Bounty Hunters?

For a chance to win a download of one of the stories you may have missed
(I’ll pick three winners!), tell me this:
Do you love stories like this set in the wilds of Montana?
Or is there another state you’d love to see some sexy bounty hunters?

MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS
Authentic Men… Real Adventures…
Reaper: https://amzn.to/2NztLpv
Dagger: https://amzn.to/2zo6Dav
Reaper’s Ride: https://amzn.to/2KKkisI
Cochise: https://amzn.to/2zq4avV
Hook: https://amzn.to/2UrpyYh
Wolf: https://amzn.to/2yUTjr5
Animal: https://amzn.to/2H4Roob
Big Sky Wedding: https://amzn.to/33GprwK
Quincy: https://amzn.to/2QlleM8

Excerpt from Cochise…

He grimaced and reached to secure his belt. Then he settled back against his door again. The better to scope out Officer McCallister. “Name’s Cochise Mercier,” he said, deciding someone needed to be polite.

“I know who you are.”

And he waited. When she didn’t reciprocate with an introduction, he cleared his throat. “I haven’t been in Bear Lodge that long, but you know who I am…”

Her gaze went to her rearview mirror than back to the windshield. “Sheriff likes to keep tabs on everyone working at MBH.” She shot him a quick glance. “You were with Denver SWAT. Must have fucked up bad to wind up here.”

He barely suppressed a grunt of surprise at her blunt words. But he had fucked up. Still, he wasn’t unhappy about the change of place or pace of his current circumstances. A man could breathe here—crisp mountain air, without the traffic and mass of humanity. “Yeah,” he said, not willing to get into it with a woman who seemed ready to pick a fight. “Something like that.”

“Should have applied for a patrol job. Sheriff’s always looking for officers with experience. He’d overlook a lot.”

“Thanks for the suggestion, but I like what I’m doing now, and the money’s better.”

Again, her gaze cut his way, and that frown dug a line between her eyes.

“You don’t like bounty hunters.”

“Didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t have to.” He eyed her profile—stubborn chin, cute nose, freckles on her pale cheeks. Her hair was a dark blonde with glints of red as the dawn’s light struck it. Her body was sturdy—not too slim, muscled. He doubted she’d like that description, but he liked a strong woman. “You got a first name, Officer McCallister?” he asked, still watching her and knowing he was making her a little uncomfortable, because her eyebrows remained lowered.

Or maybe that was her permanent expression.

Again, his mouth twitched.

“Samantha.”

“Sammy,” he drawled.

“My friends call me Sammy.”

This time, he let the smile creep across his mouth.

Just as they were nearing the turn that would take them to the agency, a car pulled out from a side street, nearly clipping the squad car.

Officer McCallister hit the brakes then cussed under her breath.

He knew the feeling. This close to ending a shift and some asshole forces a decision.

When the blue Taurus swerved into the center of the road, she sighed and reached for the toggle, turning on her blue lights.

The car indicated to the right and pulled onto the shoulder of the road.

“Stay in the car,” she said, not looking toward Cochise.

He watched with interest as she approached the vehicle, keeping at a safe angle as she neared the car. She reached for the radio on her shoulder. “Dispatch, I need you to run a plate.” She gave the dispatcher the plate information while he listened to the radio inside the car.

A few seconds later, dispatch responded. “The car’s registered to Loretta Mackinaw. She has an outstanding warrant for possession of a controlled substance.”

The officer’s body tensed.

Cochise rolled down his window to listen as she shouted for the driver to put her hands on the dash.

The first hint there was trouble was Officer McCallister flicking the strap on her holster and drawing her gun. A shot rang out, and she dove beside the car.

Cochise slid across the bench, lifting his legs to get past the equipment blocking his way, and settled into the driver’s seat just as the Taurus pulled out onto the road, a black cloud gusting from the exhaust pipe.

Putting the squad car in drive, he pulled up beside the officer and shouted through the open window, “Get in!”

She didn’t argue, sliding into the passenger side seat, flipping on the siren, and reaching for the radio. “Dispatch. Shots fired. I’m in pursuit of that blue Taurus.” She gave her location while Cochise concentrated on keeping on Mackinaw’s tail.

“You okay?” he asked, not taking his gaze off the car ahead.

“Missed me. Not that she meant to.”

They passed the outskirts of town and entered the open highway.

“Just thirty fucking minutes,” she muttered.

“How long do we follow?” he asked, wondering if they’d run up against the county line and pass the problem to the next jurisdiction.

“There’s a crossroads up ahead. Open. No trees or buildings. Think you can get close enough to perform a PIT maneuver?” She cussed again. “Goddamn, I should be behind the wheel. Sheriff’ll have my ass.”

He grinned and gunned the accelerator, closing the distance between the vehicles. Further down the road, he saw the crossroads, no other vehicles in sight.

“Let’s do it.”

Another punch of gas, and he pulled into the left lane. Coming even with the left rear wheel of the Taurus, he turned into the car, giving it a solid slam. The Taurus began to spin left, and Cochise braked, slowing the car to watch as the Taurus continued its spin and took out the stop sign across the intersection before coming to a halt. The driver faced them through the windshield.

All Cochise saw was frizzy mud-brown hair and a red face.

Officer McCallister toggled the loudspeaker and raised her mic. “Loretta, put your hands on the dashboard.”

The woman complied, although her frown didn’t abate.

Officer McCallister gave him a quick glance. “There’s a rifle in the trunk. Key’s on the ring.”

He gave a nod, turned off the engine, and let himself out of the car, making sure to keep the driver’s side door open as a shield. He retrieved the rifle and returned, crouching behind the door. He glanced across the empty seat to where the female officer stood, crouching behind her open door. She finished calling in a request for backup, and then her gaze met his across the expanse.

“Whatever move you want to make,” he said, “I have your back.”