CHAPTER ONE

– KATHLEEN –

"Dammit," I mutter and give some pressure with my legs to urge Ten, my Quarter horse, on.

Up ahead I see old Mr. Hemwig stomp across the road with a shotgun in his hand.

I finally reach the ranch across the road from the old man and lean back to bring Ten to a stop as I jump off. Wrench, my Australian Cattle dog, starts to bark at Hemwig. Wrench is a trained cadaver dog who's also my deputy from time to time; he has my back no matter what.

"Okay, Mr. Hemwig, put the gun down," I calmly tell the old man.

He narrows his eyes and aims the shotgun at my chest. "Why are you here? How did you get here so fast? He called you, didn't he? Fucking chicken."

A sigh rips from me and I grab the barrel and angle the aim up and away from all of us as Hemwig pulls the damn trigger.

"Motherfucker," I snap.

A jolt of adrenaline mixes with my blood. Wrench barks while my horse doesn't so much as twitch. Ten is the mellowest horse on the planet until I'm in the saddle, then he's lightning on hooves.

Hemwig's eyes pop wide open. "Oh, shit. I didn't pull the trigger."

I know the old fart uses shells filled with rock salt. He's harmless…most times.

"Sure you didn't," I grumble and unload the shotgun.

From the corner of my eye, I catch movement and throw the shotgun to the ground to palm my own gun while Wrench is running forward. My anger skyrockets when I see who is stalking our way; Marvin Wolffield.

He's law enforcement, like me, but also unlike me. I'm the town sheriff while Marvin is a Cowboy Bikers MC Lawmen. It's a special division of the government. They are basically above the law, but uphold it to bring down criminals in their own way.

Ever since I requested the Lawmen's help a few months ago, and Marvin being the one who showed up, he's been nothing but a pain in my ass. Okay, Marvin did help solve a case. With his help we were able to bring down a gang along with other men who hurt members and old ladies of the Iron Hot Blood, the motorcycle club my father's a member of.

Though, Marvin has been randomly showing up since that day, and tries to meddle in crime cases in my town for no good reason other than to annoy me.

Ignoring Marvin–like I've been doing ever since he entered my life–I focus on Hemwig as I put my gun back into the holster strapped to my leg. "Go home, Hemwig. You can come pick up your shotgun when you're sober."

Which I know won't be any time soon with the old man drinking around the clock. Annoyance spikes when I notice Wrench getting his ear scratched by Marvin. Cheating, asshole dog.

Hemwig shoves a bony finger in the direction of the ranch behind me. "He stole my moonshine."

It's too damn early for this shit. "Right. You're talking about the moonshine he made and gave to you? Which I'm sure you either drank already or spilled 'cause you're too drunk to hold a cup steady."

Hemwig's shoulders sag. "I'm not drunk. It happened to fall when I wanted to grab the jar. But it's his fault for putting it in a stupid jar. If he'd put it in a bottle, I would still have it."

"Enough. Go home," I tell the old man with a stern voice.

He bobs his head and starts to turn but stops to tell me, "My Daisy was as stern as you. I miss her."

My heart squeezes painfully for the old man who lost his wife four years ago. "I know, Hemwig. She was your sunshine that could give your ass sunburn if you didn't butter it up."

The old man shoots me a grin when I give him the words he's told me over a hundred times. This isn't our first encounter and I made it a standard thing to swing by his ranch during my morning ride.

"That she was. Shame my sunshine isn't here anymore…all I've got left is moonshine and the memories of my lovely wife," Hemwig murmurs and has a sad smile on his face. "Sorry, Kathleen. I didn't mean–"

"I know," I tell him, cutting him off because excuses always follow this old man's spur of the moment actions. "Sleep it off and we'll call it even."

He waves at me and wanders back to his house. I pick up the shotgun and shove it between the straps of my western saddle.

"What the fuck, Kathleen? You could have gotten your head blown off," Marvin snarls.

I don't bother to glance in his direction and grab the horn of my saddle, put my foot in the stirrup, and push off with my other leg to get my ass on the horse. It's better to stare down at the asshole than to be on the same level. Taking the reins I try to keep Ten steady when he shifts in place, itching to get moving.

"Firstly, Hemwig wasn't pointing the damn thing at my head. Secondly? The old fart uses rock salt. Besides, it's none of your damn business how I handle shit in my own damn town, Marvin. Why are you even here?" Shit. I shouldn't have asked that. "Never mind. Not my business and I couldn't care less. Stay out of the way I do my job or I'll lock you up again. Only this time I'll throw away the damn key."

I give Ten some freedom of reins and he takes full advantage and pretty much starts galloping as soon as he can. Curling my tongue, I give a sharp whistle and Wrench follows us down the road. About twenty minutes later we arrive at the Iron Hot Blood ranch.

Swinging my leg off my horse, I jump to the ground and lift my chin in greeting when I notice Rourke, the president of the Iron Hot Blood motorcycle club. I grew up with him, along with all the other members of this MC.

He's talking to Luke who is leaving today and I give him a wave too. Luke is moving to Figor's ranch. They're basically an MC like the one I grew up in, but they breed massive dogs as well. With them connected to our parents, some of them came to barbecues every now and then, and that's when Luke fell hard for Figor's daughter.

They've been fighting their attraction for a while now, especially with them living far away and different lives, but I guess Luke finally decided there's only one thing he needs in his future…and that's Mabel.

"Don't be a stranger," I quip in Luke's direction and he shoots me a grin in return.

I should stay at my own place, but the apartment above the sheriff's office doesn't give me much space to harbor my horse. Hence the reason why I still have a room here and bounce around whatever suits me. Most times I crash at the apartment, other times I need a complete break and rather stay at the ranch where it feels homey with my family.

Though, work has been crazy the past few weeks. We need at least another deputy, and an undersheriff since the last one retired. It's why I've been pulling double shifts and am tired as hell all day, every freaking day.

"Nice ride?" Rourke questions.

Wrench plunks down in the pasture and Rourke falls in step beside me as I guide Ten into the stables.

Ignoring his question, I decide to throw him one in return, because as the president of an MC he would be aware of another MC president in town. "Did you know Marvin is back?"

Rourke releases a deep sigh. "Yeah, that's why I was waiting for you. I'm guessing you already ran into the fucker, eh?"

"Oh, yeah," I grumble and grab the halter to remove Ten's bridle.

Rourke is leaning against one of the stable's support beams. "Did Marvin mention why he's here?"

"Nope." I loosen the cinch and remove the saddle.

"Let me guess, the fucker put his foot in his mouth again before he got a chance to tell you."

"Yep," I quip and let my hand glide down Ten's leg to take his hoof and start to pick it clean.

"They still haven't caught the serial killer."

I move to the other leg. "I know, Rourke. I get updates because the serial killer left two dead bodies in this town before he moved on to the next town. Well, one is still questionable since she was killed six years ago."

"The killer might be circling back here," Rourke states.

I let go of Ten's hoof to place my forearms on his back and stare at Rourke. "Are you shitting me?"

"Sadly, no. I don't have all the details. Marvin mentioned he wanted eyes on you at all times and that he'd explain once he got here."

Chuckling, I get to work on picking Ten's hind legs when I sincerely tell Rourke, "Thanks for not following that asshole's orders. You know I can damn well take care of myself."

I place Ten's hoof back on the ground and let my hand travel over his ass when I walk behind him.

"Like I said, I was waiting for you to get back." Rourke shoves away from the support beam. "I know the guy is a pain in the ass to you, but every damn time his actions are founded by a protective streak. We're talking about a serial killer here, Kathleen, it's not petty crime."

Anger flares up inside me. Why the hell is Rourke taking Marvin's side? I've been fighting for what feels like all my life for my own place in a man's world to get the career I have now. I deserve to be the damn sheriff without being questioned if my having a vagina would complicate shit.

We wouldn't be talking right now if I had a cock between my legs. Dammit. I work hard and stay sharp by always adding more certificates. My father knows I pursue a variety to build knowledge and skills, it's valuable to specialize in more than one area. I don't get why one guy walks into town and suddenly everyone questions my abilities.

I'm glad I'm done with Ten and ignore Rourke as I lead my horse into the stall.

Rourke sighs as if he's the one with all the issues. "Just hear him out, Kat. The man is only doing his job."

I grit my teeth to keep myself from snarling, "And what am I doing? Twiddling my fucking thumbs 'cause I'm a girl and can't do shit?"

"Uh huh, you have a great day now, Rourke," I grit and give a short whistle to make Wrench follow me.

In the distance I see a motorcycle approaching. Rourke is calling my name and I continue to ignore him as I open my patrol car and let Wrench jump inside before I get behind the wheel. I steer my car onto the road and keep my gaze straight forward as I pass Marvin, even if I notice he's signaling me to stop.

I call my father through the hands-free system in my car, and when he picks up I tell him, "If Marvin or his father calls you again, tell them you don't have any contact with me."

My father's chuckle flows through the car. "The kid's in town?"

"The kid is an asshole who thinks I can't do my damn job," I grumble.

"If that were the case he would have taken the job from you the day he walked into town, Kat," my father states. "He's concerned. I know Marvin can be a little overbearing, believe me, I know the type 'cause I've been in his shoes, but hear him out this time."

I fall silent and let my father's words wash over me. It's then I realize, "He already called you, didn't he?"

"He didn't, his father did," my dad confesses.

I groan. "Atticus? Seriously? Why does he have you on speed dial? Makes me wonder if Marvin can do his damn job if his father is meddling in his business."

"Atticus is merely concerned since the last time Marvin came to town, he disappeared for a few days because you locked him up in jail." My father's tone holds disapproval.

I flip my blinker and park in front of the station. "He should have learned his lesson and stayed out of my town."

"Catching a serial killer has priority, it overrules any grudge you two have toward one another."

Turning off the car, I remain seated to finish my talk with my father first.

"I don't hold a grudge, I just don't like people who kick worthy officers to the side just because their ego needs the extra room." Reaching out, I scratch Wrench behind his ear and add, "You taught me how to do my damn job long before I ever set foot inside the academy."

"You're too good to be a sheriff in this town, kid. Any agency would hire you in the blink of an eye."

My father doesn't say this to give me a mood boost. I have been approached by the FBI and turned them down more than once. My father and I even founded a research facility here, a body farm. The research is valuable, and it also allows for training programs like when I trained Wrench as a cadaver dog.

"I'm needed here," I simply say, not willing to leave my hometown.

Though, a certain annoying Cowboy Biker Lawmen does make it difficult not to say "fuck it" and move to a different state, country, continent…whatever, just as long as I get to do my damn job without his interference.

"You're irreplaceable, Kat," my father states with affection.

The corner of my mouth twitches. "You're just saying that because you would need to step up as sheriff if I ran off."

A laugh rumbles through the line. "I retired completely and won't even do any FBI favors anymore. But you're probably right. Your mother wouldn't like it, though. So, keep your ass where it is."

I'm getting ready to start a long shift so I switch topics and ask, "Can you look after Ten for me tomorrow? I don't know if I'm gonna be able to go for my morning ride."

"Call me when your shift ends, I'll handle everything else."

I open the car door and rumble, "Thanks, Dad."

"Anytime, Tough Leen, anytime." My father ends the call while I stare in the eyes of my nemesis.

The way he's smirking makes me aware he just heard the nickname my father gives me on special occasions. It's a slight twist of my name if you say it quick enough. Though, those two words are more of a contradiction. Tough; strong. Leen; delicate. I was a delicate girl growing up but tough as nails when it came to solving puzzles, mysteries, and whatever assignment or task my father gave me.

"Save it," I snap and let Wrench jump out of the car before I close the door and stomp toward the station.

This is going to be a long day and I'm only functioning on one cup of coffee. I wonder if Marvin will fall for the trick I used last time to get him into a cell. It would give me two days of rest to lock him up. With the warnings I just received, I guess that's out of the question.

"Kat," Marvin starts as he steps inside.

"It's Kathleen," I snap.

Only my friends occasionally call me Kat.

"Put a cork in your food channel and don't unplug until I've had my coffee," I warn and head straight for the coffee machine to get something to brighten my mood.

'Cause murdering Marvin isn't worth ruining my career.