Page 5 of Dusty
“Fair enough. But be careful, Dusty.” Rafe’s gaze was sharp, his voice quiet. “Things have been quiet for a change, and I don’twant to see you stirring up a hornet’s nest or finding yourself in the middle of something we’re not equipped to handle.”
Dusty nodded but didn’t say anything. He couldn’t back down now. Something in his gut told him that if he didn’t find out what was going on with Sharon Elliott, he might never forgive himself. And if that wasn’t enough, there was something else pulling at him—a strange, inexplicable need to protect her.
He turned and started to walk out of Rafe’s office, but Rafe’s voice stopped him.
“Hey, Dusty.” Turning back, his hand rested on the door jamb. “You’re not falling for her, are you?” Rafe asked, his tone light but knowing.
Dusty’s chest tightened, a storm of emotions crashing through him. “Don’t be ridiculous, Rafe. I’m just doing my job.”
Rafe chuckled. “Just don’t let a pretty face cloud your judgment. I did and look what happened.”
“Yeah—you married her,” Dusty said, allowing the humor of the moment to shine through. “No worries, I know what I’m doing.”
“Good. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Rafe replied, settling back into his chair. “A pretty face will get you in trouble every time.”
Dusty stepped out into the main part of the office, moving toward his desk. Sally Anne wasn’t in yet, which was why there were donuts next to the coffee machine. Sally Anne was on a health kick, determined to lose a few pounds before Christmas, and everybody in the office was paying the price. Glancing into the box, he spotted his favorite Boston Crème and grabbed a napkin, snagging the sweet delicacy. He didn’t need it; he’d just had cinnamon rolls and coffee with Sharon at Jill’s bakery, but one more donut wouldn’t hurt. Besides, he was going to need the extra energy the sugar would give him.
His thoughts were miles away. After treating her to breakfast, he’d watched Sharon head toward the diner. It hadn’t been a conscious act to watch her walk away, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He’d almost followed her, but there hadn’t been a reason to, except for his fascination with the beautiful woman. Was it because she was a stranger? Was it because he didn’t quite buy her story? Or was it because she was gorgeous, and he found himself drawn to her? Being honest with himself, he knew it was all three.
When he’d left the bakery, she’d still been sitting on the bench in front of Daisy’s. Made a mental note to check with Frank and see if she had called for a tow to get her allegedly abandoned car. He slid onto the chair behind his desk and turned on the computer, taking a huge bite of his donut. Time to get to work. He couldn’t wait to find out anything and everything about Sharon Elliott.
She was hiding something. But the way he felt about her? That niggling doubt, the indisputable attraction? This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
If she stuck around Shiloh Springs, there would be no escaping that fact. Too bad he had the feeling she’d be heading out of town as soon as she figured out a way. A tiny smile ticked up the corner of his mouth, and he grabbed his cell phone and dialed. Within a few minutes, he’d made arrangements for somebody to talk to Sharon. Somebody who could get answers better than anybody he knew.
Sharon Elliott might be hiding secrets, but she was about to meet the master of persuasion, and he’d know everything there was to know about the pretty stranger.
CHAPTER THREE
Dusty prided himselfon being a man of reason and logic. His badge demanded it, and years of serving the people of Shiloh Springs had ingrained a deep sense of responsibility in him. He wasn’t one to chase shadows or let personal feelings cloud his judgment.
But there was something about Sharon Elliott—if that was even her real name—that refused to leave his mind.
And that was dangerous.
Sitting at his desk, staring at the blank search results on his screen, he felt the unmistakable tug of intrigue—and attraction. He had no business feeling that way. If she was running, there was a reason. If she was lying, there was a reason. And reasons had consequences.
Dusty dragged a hand through his hair and exhaled, recalling the way she had looked at him that morning: wide-eyed, hesitant, with slightly parted lips, like she wasn’t sure whether to thank him or run.
Run.
He had the feeling that’s exactly what she had done before he had found her. And now he wanted to know if she was running from something or someone, and if they were dangerous—because he wanted to help her. Why couldn’t he shake the feeling he wasmeantto help her?
The sheriff’s office was quiet, save for the occasional crackle from the radio. Sally Anne had come in for about an hour and Rafe had sent her home. Between her coughing fits and glassy-eyed stares, there was no way she would have lasted the day anyway. Jeb was coming in to man the desks and the radio, take any 911 calls, and make sure that emergencies were handled. His shift had ended hours ago, but he was still here, chasing the ghost of a woman who shouldn’t have this kind of hold on him. Reaching for the legal pad beside his keyboard, he read the first bullet point he’d written.
Did she lie about the car?
Maybe she hadn’t wanted him checking up on her, which meant she probably had something to hide. But if her car wasn’t really broken down—or didn’t exist—then how had she gotten here?
That was the problem with secrets. They rarely stayed buried. Especially if somebody was looking to dig them up.
Is she running from an abuser?
He hadn’t noticed any signs of physical abuse, no evidence of bruising or scratches, but those were easily hidden under clothing, and she’d been bundled up beneath that threadbare coat. Which meant he couldn’t rule out that possibility.
Shiloh Springs was a town built on familiarity and families. Strangers stood out. And Sharon wasn’t just a stranger—she was an enigma.
He should let it go, but he knew he couldn’t. If she was a victim, she was off-limits. And yet, his gut told him she was more than just someone in need of rescue. Closing his eyes, he could still see her huddled in the passenger seat of his cruiser, her gaze guarded. Her blonde hair had been tucked inside the collar of her coat, and he’d been unable to tell how long it was. Even when they’d stopped at the bakery, and he’d managed to get her to eat one of Jill’s famous cinnamon rolls, she’d kept her coat draped over her shoulders, so he’d been unable to get a good look at her, but he could tell that she was painfully thin. She was beautiful,true, but he’d been around beautiful women before, and none of them pulled at him the way this woman did.
