family of her own. Something he definitely understood.
Jac had quietly impressed him. He’d gladly offer her a position with the cold-case division. If he took it. He’d offer all the agents he’d worked with a position, if they applied.
Except for Dr. Miranda Talley.
That woman was like his own personal lightning storm. When she struck—usually with just a smile—she singed him clear down to his toes.
No. Distance between them was the name of the game.
If he wanted to keep his sanity.
He entered the Masterson Sheriff’s Office in time to see her wrapped up in Clint Gunderson’s arms, just giving him what comfort she no doubt thought he needed.
She loved.
Miranda loved openly with all those who mattered to her.
Welcoming, beautiful, loving, open.
She was the antithesis of what he needed in his life right now. Knight just stopped walking and stared at her. Glared.
No woman had confused him like she had in years.
He just stood there until she shot him a sunny smile and strolled out of the building like she owned it.
Knight just watched her go.
Yep. She was a storm of problems. He’d best just keep himself far away. A few more hours, and he’d be out of Masterson forever.
61
She was going to miss home. No surprise. It was always bittersweet to leave here. But Miranda knew the truth; unlike her cousins and Marin and Meyra, while she loved Masterson, it wasn’t where she was meant to be. At least not in this season of her life.
Season. She smiled; maybe she and Marin were a bit more alike than she realized. Meant? People weren’t meant to be anywhere. They either chose to be happy where they were, or they chose not to be.
She’d always love Masterson. Always.
Jac was waiting at the diner. Unlike the rest of the team, she hadn’t flown back with Carrie Lorcan. She’d understood that Miranda needed a night with her family before she headed back to St. Louis. Jac was a good best friend; Miranda would keep her. Her grandmother had taken Jac under her wing from the first time Miranda had convinced Jac to swing through Masterson when they’d finished a case in northern Idaho. Something Miranda had long suspected Jac needed. Jac was so alone sometimes.
Miranda pushed open the door to the inn, expecting to be met by Chloe. She wasn’t. Miranda had accepted it a long time ago—there would be a time she came home and wasn’t greeted by the dog any longer. And that she’d probably not get to be with Chloe when the end happened. That stung. Hurt in ways she didn’t want to think about.
Bittersweet.
“Chloe! I’m here, baby.” That was the word to describe Masterson now. It was always that way when it was time to leave. Bittersweet.
The silence of the inn was her only answer. “Chloe!”
The sound of doggie claws on the hardwood didn’t come. Her heart jumped; just a little. Miranda forced herself to relax. Chloe was partially deaf, and old. She was probably curled up on Dusty’s bed, sound asleep. Dusty had assumed care of Chloe when Miranda had left seven years ago. Now, Chloe followed her cousin just about everywhere. She’d always be thankful for how much her cousin loved Chloe. It made leaving Chloe a little easier.
Miranda started down the hall.
Dusty had the bedroom behind the kitchen that had once belonged to the chief cook of the inn almost one hundred years ago. It was just behind the ground floor hallway entrance to the family wing above.
“Anyone in here?” Miranda called one more time.
The inn was huge, with almost forty bedrooms on three floors. Someone was always around somewhere. Well, mostly.
They didn’t have any guests right now. Not since everyone from PAVAD had left.
Grandma had put the sign on the front desk to walk the block up to the diner or to call the diner and someone would be with them shortly. There was a good chance the inn was deserted at the moment.
It truly was a different world in Masterson sometimes. She liked it just like that.
She would check for Chloe in Dusty’s room, then head over to the diner to see if Dusty or her grandmother knew where the dog was.
Miranda entered the kitchen, just as something hard slammed into the back of her head and sent her sprawling across the tile.
That’s when she saw the blood.
Her cousin, Dixie, slumped just inside the back door.
“You bitch! You think you’re so clever, so perfect, don’t you, Randi?”
A foot slammed into her already broken ribs, and fire