Eyewitness in Danger (Bent County Protectors #4)

Chapter One

Franny Perkins had plenty of experience being the odd one out. She was an only child who’d grown up with her nose in books, her head lost in her own imagination and no one around her quite knowing where she fit. Including herself.

She’d fit here, for a while. The Young Ranch in rural Wyoming. Oh, she was no rancher—she was allergic to just about every animal known to man. But she liked the mountains, the quiet landscapes. She even liked the cold—though deep in a Wyoming summer cold was a bit of a fond memory at the moment.

What she didn’t like, at all, was playing third wheel. And with Copeland Beckett moved into the ranch house now that he and her cousin, Audra Young, were engaged, Franny was once again relegated to odd man out.

She’d stayed awhile. She didn’t want Audra to feel bad, or think that Copeland’s moving to the ranch had made her leave. Audra was the kind of person who would take the blame like that. So, Franny had taken her time, built her story, and now was putting it into action.

“It’s only temporary,” Franny assured Audra, even though it was a lie.

“Just while I write the book. My agent was really excited about the idea of being able to sell it based on real-life experience.” She’d just about finished packing everything she would need to move into the little apartment in Hope Town only a thirty-minute drive away.

That was nothing. Especially around here.

Audra watched her pack her toiletry bag with mounting suspicion, but Franny kept the easy, breezy expression on her face. “It’ll give you and Copeland some time to learn how to live together before I come back.”

“You are coming back.”

“Of course I am.” It was a lie, and Franny hated to lie, but she’d hate it more if Audra felt guilty for a choice Franny had made. “Once the novel is finished.”

By then, Copeland and Audra would likely be married, maybe even starting a family if she stretched it out long enough. If needed, Franny would create a new excuse. She would not horn in on her cousin’s new life. Not like that.

Franny shouldered the pack of things she’d need tonight, then hefted her last box. She’d left a few things behind to give Audra the illusion that she’d be back. Some old clothes she didn’t wear, a few books she’d never read again.

Audra followed her down the stairs to where Copeland was carrying the heaviest of Franny’s belongings into the moving truck.

He looked like he was just about done, so it was perfect timing.

He’d drive her out to Hope Town in the intimidating moving truck, then go return it for her since the return center was close to his work at the police station where he had a cruiser.

It’d give Franny some time to unpack before Rosalie picked her up on her way out to the ranch so Franny could come back and get her car, eat one last dinner with her cousins while the men made themselves scarce and then make that final break—driving to her new place. Alone.

“I can ride with and help you unpack and—”

Franny turned to Audra and spoke firmly. “And you have chores to see to. I’m thirty minutes away, Audra. Besides, I’ll be back after we unload the truck to pick up my car. We’ll have our girls’ night dinner. You are making brownies, right?”

“Yes, right.” Audra frowned. Her gaze drifted toward the back—where her ranch stretched out and there were indeed chores to be done and responsibilities to be met.

So Franny marched herself to the truck, put the box she’d carried in the back before Copeland brought down the door.

He walked over to where Audra now stood on the porch stairs. He murmured something to her Franny couldn’t hear, then gave her a quick kiss before heading for the driver’s side. Franny made sure her smile was cheerful and easy as she got into the passenger side.

Without much discussion, they started off the ranch and out to the highway. Franny wouldn’t let herself wring her hands, though that’s what she wanted to do. She didn’t understand why she felt so damn nervous when she knew that this was what needed to be done.

New beginnings. Life steps. It was natural to feel…to feel. Wasn’t that one of the biggest reasons she’d had to move away from her parents? She had shoved down her feelings so much so as to never worry or hurt them that she was afraid she didn’t have them anymore.

Feelings were good. Feelings were her job. And her life was fairly sheltered, more or less, but less since coming to Wyoming. Life experience helped her write better books.

So this was all good. She’d never lived alone before. It was long past time she checked off that life experience.

“Thanks for the help, Copeland,” she said, wanting to distract herself from her thoughts at least a little bit. Copeland wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but she was desperate.

“I’m supposed to talk you out of it on the way.”

“But you’re not going to. Because I’ve already decided.” She slid him a sideways glance. “And because you don’t want to talk me out of it.”

He sighed, looking seriously at the road as he drove. “It’s a big house, Franny. There’s room. I don’t want you to think you’re not welcome any more than Audra does.”

“It’s not about being welcome. It’s not about…you guys.” Another lie. She wrinkled her nose, trying to focus on the positives rather than her lies. “Besides, you two lovebirds deserve to have all that room to yourselves.”

Copeland pulled a face. “Please never use that word again in my presence.”

She grinned. Copeland wasn’t the most affable guy—not like Rosalie’s husband, Duncan. But it was obvious, no matter how prickly he was, he loved Audra so much, and made her so happy, and that was all that mattered to Franny. That her cousins, who were also her friends, were happy.

She didn’t mind being the odd man out on that front. She was young, and sure, who wouldn’t like a little romance? But she hadn’t moved to the middle-of-nowhere Wyoming to find a man, even if she had the occasional fantasy about being whisked away by an upstanding taciturn cowboy.

She was here to write. To discover…who she was. She loved her parents, they were amazing, but as an only child, she’d known if she stayed in Washington, she would have lost herself in not ever hurting their feelings.

She’d needed a break, some independence. But she’d also needed some built-in friends so she didn’t fully immerse herself in hermithood. Something that was far too easy for her to do.

As much as she’d enjoyed living with the Young sisters, Franny also liked being on her own. She liked solitude. Sometimes too much. Sometimes so much her life narrowed down to nothing but fictional worlds. It wasn’t good for her.

But neither was trying to constantly please people. So moving out here had been her first step toward meeting her personal goals, and now living on her own without falling into bad habits would be the next step.

It was good. It was right.

And she held on to that assertion as she watched Bent County pass by on her way to Hope Town.

“I’M SO PROUD of you!”

Royal Campbell stood on the porch of his sister’s ranch house and grimaced as his sister squeezed him tight. He figured he owed her, more or less, though he didn’t like to admit it out loud. Especially in the presence of her husband.

Zeke Daniels was an irritating SOB, but he loved Brooke, so Royal figured it gave him enough of a pass, but that didn’t mean he was ever going to air any of his feelings in front of his brother-in-law.

Royal detangled himself from his sister gently. Because the whole baby bump thing she had going on freaked him out. Shouldn’t she be lying down or something? But she was always moving around, that bump getting bigger every week that went by.

“Don’t sound so surprised I made it off field training, Chick,” he said, easing away. He was wearing a gun since he was in uniform and on his way into work. She shouldn’t be that close.

“Why not?” Zeke muttered. Brooke gave him a little slap to the chest with no heat behind it.

“I’m not surprised at all. I am proud and happy.” She beamed at him.

She deserved to be happy. And if him getting his life together made her happy, Royal figured that was reason enough to do it.

But somewhere along the line he’d figured out he wanted to get his life together for a lot of reasons. For Brooke. To spite their father who’d been a high-level member of a horrible biker gang. And strangest of all, at least to him, was the desire to get it figured out for himself.

He’d spent his entire life reacting to the bad hand he’d been dealt. Now he wanted to turn that hand into something. Stop reacting, stop running, stop fighting every damn thing stacked against him and build something of his own.

“I’ve got to get to work. Just wanted to drop by and tell you.” He took a step down from the porch so she couldn’t hug him again.

“Come to dinner on your next day off.”

“You’re supposed to be taking it easy,” Zeke reminded her. “No big meals.”

“It won’t be a big meal. Just an extra seat at the table.” She beamed at Royal. “What day?”

Royal looked from Brooke to Zeke. He didn’t relish getting in the middle of any marital arguments, but if he did, he’d be on Brooke’s side. Except when it came to taking care of herself. “Thursday. I’ll bring pizza.”

She frowned a little, but when Zeke’s arm came around her shoulders she sighed. “All right. Bring pizza.”

He offered a wave then strode back to his Bent County Sheriff’s Department cruiser.

He got in the car, and once again reveled in having it to himself.

He’d had a good field training officer, but part of why he’d applied for Bent County after the police academy had been that there was a certain amount of autonomy once you were off field training.

And now he was. He glanced at the clock. And he needed to get into the station for roll call.

It was a surprise, even to him, that he liked it. That he seemed to fit. Taking orders and following rules had never been his style. A little difficult to learn respect for authority when you grew up in a dangerous biker gang.

It wasn’t easy to suddenly yes, sir everybody.

It wasn’t easy to be the rookie, knowing he got treated a little less for it, especially considering he was older than every single other rookie, and even some of the guys with a few years under their belts.

More often than not, it put his back up and had those old rebellious tendencies kicking up a fuss.

But he pushed them down.

He tried to look at it as every rule followed, every pointless-feeling yes, sir allowed him to help someone who needed it.

And he knew the depths of needing help that some people faced.

He knew the desperate lengths a person could go to in order to help.

So any time he was tempted to tell a superior to go to hell, he remembered what he’d done in the name of justice as a boy—and how different his life might have been if there’d been someone bigger and stronger to help.

He’d be the bigger and stronger for somebody now. This time, on the right side of the law.

It still gave him a pause, now and again. The ingrained belief that the system was bad, and he was an idiot for falling into it. But he fought back those doubts.

Brooke was proud of him, and that held weight. He supposed he was learning to be proud of himself too.

His FTO had been pretty strict about speed limits, setting an example while in his patrol car, so Royal was careful not to speed past the slow-going truck in front of him like he wanted to. But eventually, he couldn’t take it any longer, and he eased around the moving truck.

He passed, and on a sideways glance he recognized Copeland Beckett at the wheel.

Beckett was a detective at Bent County, and Royal wasn’t sure what to make of him yet.

As a road deputy, Royal hadn’t had much interaction with the detective bureau.

A lot of people at the county respected the guy though, but Royal liked to make his own conclusions about people.

Case in point, the one thing he did know about Copeland Beckett was that the cute brunette in his passenger seat was not Copeland Beckett’s fiancée.

Cops, he thought bitterly—an old habit.

He looked down at his uniform and laughed. Sometimes, life really was a kick in the pants.