Excerpt of Twice a Target by Susan Vaughan

The first plate was finished and a second heaped before Holt took time to savor the spicy beef, tortillas, and cheese. He was rinsing his plate when he heard the engine. He expected no one, and the hairs on his nape lifted in warning. Lately every new arrival, every phone call heralded more trouble.

A glance out the window in the kitchen door revealed the back view of a long drink of female. Mile–long legs in tight jeans and running shoes, sweetly curved butt, and short blond hair. She was waving good–bye to the deputy sheriff's white Cherokee as it chugged down the gravel drive.

What the hell? He snatched open the door and stalked outside.

When the woman turned around, the sight of her face sucker–punched him in the solar plexus.

"Hi, Holt. Guess you never expected to see me here again." Madelyn McCoy propped her hands on her hips and gave him a crooked smile.

Sweat popped out on his brow. Had he somehow conjured up Maddy? Same sassy mouth, violet eyes the exact shade of the pansies Espie planted every May in the window boxes.

"McCoy, you're the last person I want to see. What the hell are you doing here?" He stopped before his temper got the best of him. The mere sight of her pushed all his hot spots.

She'd lit out eight years ago a twenty–year–old girl, pretty and tempting as a mountain spring, but the female who stood hip–sprung before him was all woman—and twice as sexy.

And twice as deceitful. He'd bet the next newborn calf on it. The sooner she left the better.

Maddy held out open hands in a peace declaration. "Look, I know with you I'm persona non grata." Her shoulders slumped, and her sass slid to sorrow. "Faith Rafferty emailed me...about Rob. I had to come to pay my respects."

Faith and Maddy used to be close. So that's how she knew. His throat clutched, and he gritted his teeth. He didn't want to share his loss with the woman who'd broken Rob's heart.

Facing Holt showed a measure of unexpected courage. As children, they'd all been friends, Rob and Maddy and him—kids running wild during the summers. Even if she didn't love Rob enough to marry him and stay on the Valley–D, she once cared for him. Holt had to admit that, at least to himself.

Much as the sight of her troubled him, he'd accept her condolences.

He stared at the dust settling on the driveway. She had no transportation. "Why did Luke Rafferty drive you here? You in some kind of trouble?"

A shadow flickered across her eyes. Or it could be his imagination. His DEA work dealing with lowlifes made him as suspicious as a calf at branding time.

"Just car trouble," she said lightly, picking up the metal case at her feet. A fancy camera case, if he wasn't mistaken. "My Range Rover broke down in Rangewood. Luke happened to see me at the diner."

Close up, he saw exhaustion in her eyes. "Reckon I could drive you back later."

"How did it happen, Holt? The accident. All Faith said was a car accident." She marched up the porch steps toward him like an invading Amazon.

Damn, he had to tell the story again. His gut twisted with the prospect. He ran his tongue around his teeth and focused on the distant peak, still rosy with sunlight. "The crash happened about a month ago. Rob and his wife were headed down to Cripple Creek for a night out. They took the shortcut from north of Rangewood that leads southeast to the state road. Went off the road on a mountain curve and rolled into a ravine."

Tears welled in her eyes. "Oh, Holt, how horrible. Did they...were they—"

"Rob and Sara died quick, I reckon." He couldn't let himself think about their pain and fear. "That old truck barely had seat belts, let alone air bags."

There was more to the story. A lot more. Including the crash was no fucking accident. He had no proof yet, but he knew. Dammit, he would find the bastard who'd murdered his family. He couldn't tell Maddy any of that, and she didn't need to know. He cleared his throat before he turned back to her.

Her voice caught on a sob. "I'm so sorry. What a terrible loss."

He swallowed his pride. "I appreciate that. You didn't have to come all this way though, from Timbuktu or wherever you were."

"Malibu." A wobbly smile lifted the corners of her mouth. "I figured if I telephoned you'd hang up on me. I had to come in person...to see the grave."

"Fine. You know where the family plot is." He sketched a wave in that direction.

"You don't give an inch, do you?" Maddy shook her head, the movement lifting her short blonde hair like a buckskin fringe on a sleeve. "I'd appreciate the use of your bathroom before I go sit by Rob awhile."

Holt's first instinct was not to let her in the house, but he couldn't act the ogre about it. Besides, she was shivering in her denim jacket. He stepped back and held the door as she sashayed in.