Luke couldn’t believe he’d been so careless. He could have lost Jasmine. If the guy in the red Pinto was the sniper, he could’ve taken them both out. They’d been exposed, sitting ducks. He should never have let her out of his sight.

His fingers drummed on the steering wheel. He could see Jasmine’s loaner truck not too far ahead of him, but he wanted her with him. Now. His hands itched to hold her. His lips missed the taste of her.

He’d known this would happen. He didn’t want to fall for her. He had too many questions; there were too many secrets between them. But his body didn’t care. One inhale of her clean fragrance, one touch of her smooth skin, one smile or sparkle in her hazel eyes, and he was a goner.

Until he found out who’d targeted her, though, he had to stay on mission. He couldn’t let his desire distract him.

Following her as they headed to the sheriff’s office, he searched for tails, particularly the red Pinto, but he saw nothing. He needed another lead. Unfortunately he only had one option. He snagged his phone and dialed a number he’d memorized but hoped he’d never have to use. “Come on, Grace. Pick up.”

“H…hello?”

The tentative greeting infuriated him all over again. When Grace had called him about the corruption within the sheriff’s office, she’d risked her life by ratting out her purported family. The crime syndicate they ran was into drugs, prostitution, gambling, gun running. If it was profitable, they had a piece. Grace wouldn’t chance leaving her husband, no matter how much Luke had argued. Not unless her husband and the head of the family could be stopped.

“It’s Luke Montgomery.”

A soft sigh filtered through the phone and she cleared her throat. “Okay, I’ll answer your survey if it won’t take too long.”

He heard a loud curse in the background and then the sound of a closing door. Damn, he wished Grace would let him help, but short of kidnapping her and her son he couldn’t do anything. If he discovered enough information, though, he could involve the FBI.

“I’m outside just in case the place is bugged. I’ve got a few minutes before Charles gets frustrated.”

“Grace, I can help you. I’ll put you in touch with a U.S. marshal and witness protection.”

A derisive laugh escaped from her. “The family can get to anyone. The last person who tried to help me is dead. That’s why Steve Paretti turned his back on his father and the organization in the first place. I’m still shocked he hasn’t been eliminated. No, it’s better if I’m here until the end. It’s safer for me and Bobby.”

“I hate seeing you trapped.”

“I won’t always be,” she said softly. “I’m glad you called, though. You’re being followed, Luke. I saw the photos. They want to know who tipped you off…and what you’ve found out.”

“How’d they find out about the investigation?”

“You questioned the wrong person. They have ears everywhere.”

“I’ve received threats. Is there a hit out on me?”

“Not yet. They want to scare you, but if you get too close…” The silence grew thick. “Maybe we should forget the whole thing. If you let it be known you’ve stopped—”

“No way. We’ll make you safe.” Luke rounded a corner, only a few miles from the sheriff’s office. “Have they mentioned Jazz Parker?”

“She’s the sniper on the news, right? She’s never been here, and I’ve never heard them talk about her.”

Thank God. Luke hadn’t realized how desperately he’d wanted to believe in her. At least now he had one less reason to doubt.

“How about Brian Tower?”

“Him, I know. He attended a very private party last week. Tons of security. He was an arrogant jerk. I had to smile and be nice. Like always. How’d you know he was here?”

“Was he with his father?”

“I haven’t seen the sheriff in a while. The son came on his own, and the family fawned all over him. I don’t know why, but it must’ve been important.”

“Interesting. Brian Tower and no sheriff. Could he be the one following me?”

“Maybe, but I can’t be sure,” she said. “I need to go, Luke. Don’t call here again. Please. I’m going to have to explain as it is.”

“If you hear anything about Sheriff Tower or Brian or Jazz, let me know. Anytime. Day or night. Lives are at stake.”

“For both of us,” she said softly. “I’ll try to find out more. If I can.”

The line went dead.

Luke flipped on his turn signal. Brian Tower. A key to his investigation into the sheriff’s office and maybe more of a player than he’d imagined. No longer just a deputy with a grudge, Tower now seemed to be linked to Luke’s investigation into Grace’s family. Was Tower’s IA interest in Jasmine connected at all?

Or was it a coincidence?

The entire situation sat wrong, but there was no proof of anything except that Tower possessed enough information to hurt Jasmine. Luke never wanted to see her shrink the way she had in that hospital. That wasn’t his Jasmine.

His Jasmine. Oh, man. She’s not yours. She never was. Get it through your thick skull and deal with it. He should focus on who was out to get Jasmine, and then he needed to stay away from her. If he could.

Her truck turned toward the sheriff’s office and he followed, slowing down, validating they hadn’t been tailed. He pulled into the parking lot, and with a quick scope of the area to verify their safety, he jumped out of his vehicle to help her gather her weapon and the targets.

She wrenched open the rusty door of the truck. “I didn’t see the Pinto. You?”

“We weren’t followed, but it doesn’t matter. He knows you work here.”

“This is crazy.” She dug into her pocket and pulled out an empty Life Savers wrapper. “The day just keeps getting better and better.”

“Someone is out to get you. We need to find out who and how before the situation gets worse. If they are willing to sabotage your rifle, they’ll do anything.”

“You believe that? You don’t think I lost my cool? That I made a mistake?”

“Whatever has happened between us, Jasmine, I do know some things about you, and I believe you would do anything to protect the team. Just like I would. You’re a hell of a good sniper. Maybe the best I’ve ever seen. A foot off isn’t a normal miss. Whoever did this knows what they’re doing, and they don’t care who gets hurt. Gabe’s the proof.”

Impulsively she leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

The touch of her lips re-ignited the unwanted heat so close to the surface. “You are always…unexpected.”

The air between them sizzled. His heart thudded as he stared into her green eyes, then he lowered his gaze to her lips. She swallowed and licked their fullness.

To hell with good intentions. Without waiting for permission, his lips claimed hers, and she surrendered, shoving her hands in his hair, returning the kiss with an intensity that made him shudder. He wanted to give in to the longing that threatened to overpower him and throw her into the back of the SUV and make her his. He longed to sink into her and lose himself in the heat.

It wouldn’t take much to drag her into the back of his SUV and let himself peel away her clothes piece by piece until she lay beneath him, skin glowing, eyes soft, lips swollen from his kisses. His body throbbed with desire, and he arched against her hips, letting her feel the strength of his need.

Panting, she wrenched her mouth from his. “I thought we agreed this was a bad idea.”

“We did. And it is.” He thrust his hand through his hair. He wouldn’t acknowledge the turmoil between his heart and mind. No matter how much he wanted her, he couldn’t risk his heart—or Joy’s—with someone who’d walked out of his life once already. If he’d had a choice, he’d have walked away. But he had no other option. And neither did she. “I’m going to take care of whoever’s doing this to you, Jasmine. I’ll make it work out.”

“Save the fairy tales for Joy. My life isn’t made up of happy endings.”

Jasmine stepped away, and a veil came down between them, that barrier of protection he recognized so well. All for the best. She turned on him and grabbed her targets and gun from the truck.

“And yet,” he said, “you still believe in justice. Even though it’s clear the person who sabotaged your rifle has access to the SWAT den and was probably a sniper. To get anything past you would take some serious skills. My bet’s on Brian Tower at the moment. I doubt he’s working alone, but he’s involved.”

“He’s a sniper. He hates me, but he’s a cop. He took an oath. We all did.”

“Now who’s living in a fairy tale? Cops turn bad. Tower’s got means and opportunity,” Luke said. “I think he might be playing both sides. Half cop, half organized crime stooge. I don’t have proof, but I’ve got indirect evidence. If we could tie him to the Pinto, we could prove his involvement, but we can’t assume anything. Anyone on the SWAT team—past and present—is a suspect. Sergeant Carder and Sheriff Tower were both snipers.”

She shook her head. “I won’t believe that. My team might not have faith in me anymore, but they wouldn’t sacrifice Gabe. And Sarge would never give up any of us.”

“I hope you’re right. For the record, I’ve known Carder for years. Our parents were friends. I doubt he’s the one.”

“Is that facts or your gut, Luke?”

“The last few days have reminded me that confirmation isn’t always there when you want it. Sometimes all that keeps you alive is instinct.”

He walked with her into the sheriff’s office and watched her nod to a stiff desk sergeant. The jerk didn’t return her greeting. They’d judged her already, and it annoyed the hell out of him. They deserved a lecture on teamwork, that’s for damn sure. But Jasmine. She just walked on by. He admired the pride in her step, the lift of her chin. She didn’t let them see how much they’d hurt her.

Just as they were about to push through the double doors leading to the SWAT den a voice from behind jerked them back.

Brian Tower sauntered toward them as if he owned the place. “Parker. I figured you’d run for the hills.”

The bastard had some nerve. If Luke found corroboration Tower had anything to do with his brother or Jasmine, he’d bury the guy. For now, Luke fought to play it cool.

“I assume those are yours?” Tower nodded to the targets rolled up in Jasmine’s hand.

She stiffened next to Luke. “And if they are?”

“I’d like to see them.” Tower held out his hand.

Jazz wanted nothing more than to wipe Tower’s Cheshire cat grin off his face. It had become far too familiar yesterday during her debrief. Now, as he plucked the targets from her hand and unrolled them, his smile deepened. Cold fingers ran up her spine. Why should an almost perfect target make him so happy?

“You’re coming with me. Down to ballistics. There’s a little test Internal Affairs would like you to perform.”

Tower’s sneer of victory sent chills through her. What was going on? She searched Luke’s gaze for reassurance.

“Not without representation, she’s not,” Luke said, clasping her hand, compelling her to meet his gaze. “He can’t force you.”

“Maybe not. Of course, most of the men here would want to prove themselves,” Tower goaded. “Still, I’m a bit surprised you’re unwilling to eliminate yourself as culpable so my team can identify how Gabe ended up in the hospital fighting for his life. But it’s your choice.”

“Jasmine—”

Luke’s tone cautioned her of the risk. She knew, but it didn’t matter.

“I don’t have anything to hide. It’ll be fine.”

Silent fury flashed in Luke’s eyes, and she could tell if they’d been alone, he’d have dragged her out of here. He didn’t understand that she needed to do this. Tower had called her out; she refused to back down or let Luke fight the battle for her.

“Let’s go,” she said.

Luke moved to follow, and Tower sent him a small smirk. “Sheriff’s deputies only. Wait here.”

With one last, backward glance at Luke seething, she exited the office. Side by side, she and Tower walked to the elevators. He didn’t speak, but Jazz couldn’t ignore his sneer. “What do you think you’re going to prove?”

Tower punched the down arrow and waited for the metal doors to slide open. When they’d both entered and he’d pressed the button to take them to the basement, he faced her. “That the daughter of a whore doesn’t belong on our team. Did you follow Mama’s example and sleep your way into the paper just like you slept your way into SWAT?”

No. This couldn’t be happening. How could he possibly know about her mother? No one knew. No one.

Jazz’s fingers closed into fists.

Tower snorted with laughter. “Come on, Jazz. Hit me. You know you want to.”

Every instinct screamed at her to take him out, to use all the training at her disposal to squash this little worm, but as she studied where to best punch him she sighted the badge tucked into his waistband. She couldn’t give him what he deserved. That was what he wanted. “I won’t play your game.”

“You have self-control, I see.” He smiled at her. “Better than I thought, considering your white trash background.”

She froze in place. She could almost hear Luke’s voice. Don’t let him get to you, Jasmine. He wants you to crack, to do something stupid.

“You didn’t think I’d find out? Oh, babe, I know a lot more than appears in those flimsy files in IA. How do you think your SWAT mates will feel when I tell them what a fraud you really are? That you’ve been arrested for ripping off your Johns? Think they’ll respect you then?”

No. Impossible. No one should’ve been able to dig up her juvenile arrest files. Sheriff Clarkson had destroyed them along with the newspaper articles. Someone else had to be feeding Tower information. But who?

The elevator doors slid open. She couldn’t move. She just stood there, stunned.

He cracked a smile. “After you. I’d say ‘ladies first,’ but we both know you’re not one.”

She stiffened and leveled a laser gaze at Tower. “Back off, or I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”

“Threatening an investigating officer? That won’t look good on your record.”

He walked ahead of her and opened the ballistics lab door. “Johnson, she’s here.”

The ballistics technician acknowledged her presence with an embarrassed nod.

The whole thing felt like a set-up, and she’d gone and let Tower tick her off. Between her shock and anger, she was shaking. She had to rein in her emotions. She needed to be the Ice Queen.

She closed her eyes and pictured that lake, those hot springs washing everything away but the moment. One, two, three deep breaths and she opened her eyes.

“What do you want me to do?”

Tower nodded at her beloved Remington, resting behind the glass window separating the lab from the testing room. Her old friend. “Give us ten shots at the target.”

“That’s it?”

Tower smiled. “That’s it.”

Confused, she opened the door and looked back at Tower and the tech. Tower appeared every bit the commandant watching his worst prisoner take the final steps toward a firing squad. The tech just looked uncomfortable.

Jazz’s stomach roiled, but she wouldn’t let Tower intimidate her. A quick gauge of the distance, and she did her calculations. “Forty-five yards?”

The tech’s eyes widened and he nodded.

Jazz picked up her Remington and fought the urge to wipe the stock with a rag. No telling who’d handled her baby. She checked the chamber and put on the shooting muffs. Her fingers adjusted the windage and elevation for distance before she tucked the perfectly balanced weapon to her shoulder.

She glanced through the glass at a condescending Tower and mouthed, “Ready?”

He nodded.

Jazz breathed in deeply, sighted the target, and squeezed the trigger.

The muffled sound of a bullet hitting the backstop brought a gasp from her. She stared through the scope. Where was the hole?

She lowered the weapon slightly.

“No,” Tower shouted. “Nine more shots, Parker.”

They’d tampered with her scope. They must have.

Jazz’s hand trembled and she positioned herself behind the scope. Now she knew what Tower had wanted from her. Nine shots erupted out of the Remington’s barrel. Ten missed targets and she could do nothing about it.

Finally, after the last boom sounded in the room, she lowered the weapon and stared at the target. Hands trembling, she struggled to raise each foot as she walked the length of the concrete room, a strange echo stalking her.

The pristine ten ring screamed at her, and disbelief whirled through Jazz. Her gaze lit on the nestle of holes about seven inches directly left of the target. The same relative distance as on the wall at the farmhouse.

Jazz stared back and forth from the target to her weapon. It couldn’t be. There was no way she could have made that kind of mistake.

She rushed back to the Remington where Tower now stood, his gleeful expression almost high.

“So I see you missed yet again. Why am I not surprised?”

She couldn’t think; she didn’t care what Tower thought. All she cared about was proving her theory. “Let me have it.”

Tower shrugged, and the technician watched as she focused in on the windage. “What was the measurement at the farmhouse? Exactly how far was the bullet off-target?”

“What do you think it was, Parker?”

“Just spill it, Tower.”

“Fifteen inches.”

A flash of understanding lit through her. “Fifteen at one hundred yards,” she whispered. She rounded on Tower and the technician. “Did you adjust the scope’s windage knob?” Messing with the left-right adjustment was the only way the bullet’s impact would be consistently off-target.

“Until you, no one has touched the scope since it was brought in.” The tech’s face cleared in comprehension. “You think the windage was fifteen clicks off. A full revolution?”

“It has to be.” She stared at her scope, her Remington, the friend who had never let her down. Or could she have—no, she refused to consider the thought.

“Hmm.” The technician stared at the weapon and pulled out a magnifying glass. “You can’t tell if it’s three hundred sixty degrees off unless you test it. Sure, if it’s a click or two, but a full revolution is impossible to see without firing.”

Jazz moved to adjust the windage, but Tower stopped her. “I don’t think so, Parker. Now we know what happened out there. You choked under the pressure and screwed up your settings. This gun is evidence you may be able to hit a bull’s-eye, but you can’t be trusted.” He took her weapon and walked back into the lab before placing the gun in the gun case and resealing it. “You’ll have to explain your negligence to a board of inquiry.”

“You know I couldn’t have done this.” But her voice held less certainty than she’d hoped. Deep inside, some part of her had to consider—had she made the mistake?

“Do I? Who else would’ve had access to your weapon?”

Who else indeed? She studied Tower through her lashes, speculation running rampant. Was he really cold enough to have sabotaged her scope? Did he hate her so much he would’ve jeopardized innocent lives?

Tower made a few brief notes. “As the IA investigator assigned to your case, I’m authorized to order you to see the department psychologist for an evaluation of your fitness for duty.”

“You’re kidding.”

He tucked his pen into his pocket and smiled. “No, not at all. I’m sure no one wants you behind any sort of weapon until we’re all convinced you can handle the pressure. Understandable considering your—shall we say—colorful childhood.” His eyes went icy. “You blew it and a man almost died. You’re through.”

He strode toward the door and looked back at her. “Come on, Parker. Sergeant Carder needs to acknowledge what a screw-up he chose.”

They didn’t speak in the elevator, but Tower shot her a satisfied smile as they exited the confining space. “You and your career are finished. I will personally see to it that you’re thrown out on your ass. You can’t expunge these records. You’re not a minor anymore.”

The blood drained from her face as they pushed through the doors to the SWAT den. Luke and Sarge met them just as they entered. Jazz had never seen either man so angry, but Luke vibrated with barely harnessed violence.

He grabbed Tower’s collar. “What did you say to her?”

“Take your hands off me, or I’ll have you arrested for assault. Don’t think I won’t do it. I’d enjoy putting you in a cage.”

The muscle in Luke’s cheek spasmed. Jazz fully expected him to ignore the warning, but he let Tower go with a scathing glare. “You’re not worth the aggravation…or the lawyer’s fees.”

The man should’ve been quaking in his boots. Tower had to know Luke’s background. As an Army Ranger, he’d forgotten more ways to kill than a cop would ever know.

Tower just shrugged, the fool.

“As I was about to tell Sergeant Carder, I’ve proved a point I’ve been trying to make for a very long time. That department judgment,” he glared at Sarge, “is severely lacking. Parker buckled under pressure on the last job.”

“Into my office, Deputy Tower,” Sarge said, his voice clipped. “Now.”

Tower followed, ambling through the double doors leading to the SWAT den.

All gazes in the lobby swept to Jazz. She could feel them boring into her. Her skin prickled, and unwanted memories flooded her mind. Stares at a little girl with bruises on her arms, wearing dirty clothes because she’d used the Laundromat money to buy milk and bread instead. Why couldn’t she just disappear again? What did it matter if she fought or ran? Tower would tell everyone soon enough. Luke would learn the truth. She’d lost everything already. “I’ve got to get out of here,” she whispered.

Luke tugged her against him, his stance protective, as if he might do battle. For her. What was she doing? She was a cop, not that scared girl anymore. Even Luke believed in her skills, her identity as a sniper. She couldn’t let Tower win.

When Luke pivoted her toward the front door, she shook her head. “Wait. I’ve got to talk to Sarge first.”

“Do it later. You don’t have to stay.”

“I. Can’t. Run.”

Luke lifted her chin and stared into her eyes. He smiled slightly. “I get that, but be smart. You shouldn’t have gone with him without a rep. Tower’s not stupid, and he’s out to bring you down. Don’t play into his game.”

“It won’t happen again. From now on, I control the moves.”

Luke clasped her hand in his, and together they entered the SWAT den. Sarge’s door was closed, his blinds drawn. She sank onto a bench and Luke settled down next to her, his thigh touching hers. He kneaded the back of her neck, his fingers lingering on that small spot at her nape that made her legs tingle. The comfort of his touch made her want to lean against him, soak in some of his strength. But she couldn’t show weakness. Not here.

“Okay,” he said. “No audience for the moment. What happened?”

“He had me shoot the Remington. The scope’s windage was off by one complete revolution.”

Luke let out a low whistle. “It’d be a quick and easy adjustment, but you’d need expert knowledge to know what to do.”

“The scope appeared to be aligned perfectly. Nobody would’ve been able to tell until the weapon was fired that it’d been sabotaged.”

“Tower has the skills,” Luke said.

“I can’t prove he did anything, but if he did, he’s not in it alone. Someone’s feeding him information about my past, Luke. He knows things he shouldn’t know. Things no one should know.”

Sarge’s office door flung open. Jazz snapped straight, and Luke’s hand dropped. Her skin cooled at the loss of his caress as Tower strode through the room, triumph exuding from every pore. “I’ll set up the hearing date, Sergeant. Incompetents don’t belong on your team.”

Sarge didn’t call her to his office. He came to her, which didn’t bode well. “You thinking sabotage?”

“For a few minutes during that ballistics test, Tower made me wonder. But I couldn’t have made that mistake, Sarge. A full revolution. It’s impossible.”

“Tower’s probably involved,” Luke said. “Everything that’s happening to Jazz is no coincidence. The vandalism, the shot fired at us, and two hours ago someone tailed her to the gun range.”

“Why would Tower go to the trouble?” Sarge shook his head. “I don’t buy it, unless there’s something you’re not telling me, Luke.”

Luke said nothing, but a knowing stare passed between the two men.

“Fine,” Sarge said. “I’ll be the first one to blink. The IA investigation came up too quickly. Usually I get wind of that sort of thing, but this flew in out of nowhere. It’s suspicious, but Tower’s father is a powerful man. You go down this road without more evidence, Jazz’s career won’t survive.” He speared Luke with a glare. “Your career will be over too.”

“You think I care about that when this bastard might have contributed to landing my brother in the hospital?”

“Your theory could hold water if you tie Tower to the tail and the sabotage.”

Jazz struggled to focus. She hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours, but there had to be something she’d missed. “Tower comes down here all the time, especially lately,” she mused. “For someone with experience, turning the windage knob wouldn’t have taken a few seconds. One turn and the shot’s off fifteen inches.”

“He’d have had to get your rifle out of the vault,” Sarge said.

Jazz bit her lip in thought. “Not if it was already out…” Her voice trailed off then she raised her chin in triumph. “I know when Tower could’ve done it. The day you called me into your office about the IA investigation, I left the Remington on my desk to clean it. When I came out, Tower and his redheaded girlfriend were at my desk.”

Jazz let her mind drift back to the razzing the guys had given Gabe. “The woman. She flirted with Gabe…She could be working with Tower as his distraction. That would make sense. The next time I used the Remington was at the hostage site.”

Sarge frowned. “I’ll look into what started the IA investigation—carefully, slowly. For now, I’m ordering you out of here, Jazz. Nothing is going to change before tomorrow. You’re a mess. You have to face the department shrink in the afternoon. Go home and recharge. Tired people make mistakes, and that’s something you can’t afford to do.”

“But Sarge—”

“Get out. I need time to go over some options that won’t see us both fired.”

“You need to get rid of a dirty cop,” Luke snapped.

Sarge rose. “And that would make your exposé, wouldn’t it?”

Luke’s face turned to stone, a sure sign Sarge had surprised him.

“You think I haven’t heard about your little investigation?” Sarge said. “There are no secrets around here. If that shot at Jazz’s apartment was aimed at you, there are a lot more suspects than you imagined. Take my advice. Don’t go off half-cocked and get yourselves into a situation that we can’t control. I don’t plan on losing my best sniper because of Tower’s personal vendetta. Let me do my job so Jazz can keep hers.”

She hadn’t heard the words aloud before. Hadn’t even let herself think she might really lose her place on the team. The pain was so swift and intense Jazz swayed on her feet.

Her commander frowned. “See that she gets some food and sleep, Montgomery. She looks like hell.”

“I’ll take care of her,” Luke promised, “and we’ll find out who’s behind this. I won’t stop until we do.”

Jazz looked up into his determined face. The once-broken nose, the strong jaw, they all told her more than his words. He wouldn’t give up. Ever. Mostly for Gabe, she knew. He would fight for her too, but for how long? He seemed to believe in her now, but he didn’t know the whole truth. What would happen when he learned who Jazz Parker really was?