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A killer stalks Eagle Mountain…

And a visiting lawman is determined to protect the next target…

Emily Walker is back home for her brother’s wedding. The joyous occasion is marred by a blizzard, a murderer on the loose…and Brodie Langtry, the man who broke her heart. As he searches for the Ice Cold Killer, Brodie becomes convinced that Emily is his next target. How can he protect a woman who wants nothing to do with him—a woman he’s terrirfied to let out of his sight?

CINDI MYERS is the author of more than fifty novels. When she’s not crafting new romance plots, she enjoys skiing, gardening, cooking, crafting and daydreaming.

A lover of small-town life, she lives with her husband and two spoiled dogs in the Colorado mountains.

Also by Cindi Myers

Ice Cold Killer

Cold Conspiracy

Saved by the Sheriff

Avalanche of Trouble

Deputy Defender

Danger on Dakota Ridge

Murder in Black Canyon

Undercover Husband

Manhunt on Mystic Mesa

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Snowblind Justice

Cindi Myers


www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09449-8

SNOWBLIND JUSTICE

© 2019 Cynthia Myers

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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For Gay and Reed.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Snow sifted down over the town like a downy blanket, turning trash piles into pristine drifts, transforming mine ruins into nostalgic works of art, hiding ugliness and danger beneath a dusting of wedding-cake white.

The murderer lurked behind a veil of snow, fresh flakes hiding his tracks, muffling the sound of his approach, covering up the evidence of his crimes. Deep cold and furious blizzards kept others indoors, but the killer reveled in his mastery over the landscape. His pursuers thought he was soft, like them. They couldn’t find him because they assumed conditions were too harsh for him to survive in the wilderness.

And all the while he was waiting, striking when the right opportunity presented itself, his intellect as much of a weapon as his muscles. The woman who lay before him now was a prime example. She hadn’t hesitated to stop when he had flagged her down on the highway. He was merely a stranded motorist who needed help. He was good-looking and charming—what woman wouldn’t want to help him?

By the time she realized his purpose, it was too late. Like the officials who tracked him, she had underestimated him. The lawmen doubted his ability to instill trust in his victims, and were awed by his talent for killing quickly and efficiently while leaving no trace.

He lifted the woman’s inert body into the car, arranging it into an artful tableau across the seat. There was very little blood—none in the vehicle—and no fingerprints or other evidence for the sheriff and his deputies to trace. They would search and examine and photograph and question—and they would find nothing.

He shut the door to the car and trudged away as the snow began to fall harder, a sifting of sugar over the bloodstains on the side of the road, and over his footprints, and over the signs of a struggle in the older snow beside the highway. The killer ducked behind a wall of ice, and disappeared out of sight of the empty road. Wind blew the snow sideways, the flakes sticking to the knit mask he had pulled up over his face, but he scarcely felt the cold, too absorbed in the details of his latest killing, reveling in his skill at pulling it off—again.

There were no witnesses to his crime, and none to his getaway. The lawmen thought they were closing in on him because they had linked his name to his crimes. But they didn’t realize he was the one drawing nearer and nearer to his goal. Soon he would claim his final victim—the woman who had brought him to Eagle Mountain in the first place. After he had taken her, he would disappear, leaving his pursuers to wonder at his daring. They would hate him more than ever, but some part of them would have to admire his genius.


“I FEEL LIKE I should apologize for seventeen-year-old Emily’s poor taste in prom dresses.” Emily Walker looked down at the dress she had unearthed from the back of her closet that morning—too short in the front, too long in the back, entirely too many ruffles and a very bright shade of pink.

“It will be fine as soon as we straighten out the hem and maybe take off a few ruffles.” Lacy Milligan looked up from her position kneeling on the floor beside the chair Emily stood on, and tucked a lock of her sleek brown hair behind one ear. “You’ll look great.”

“Everyone is supposed to be looking at you when you walk down the aisle in that gorgeous bridal gown—not at the clashing train wreck of attendants at the front of the room,” Emily said. Watching Lacy wouldn’t be a hardship—she was gorgeous, and so was her dress. The same couldn’t be said for the bridesmaids’ makeshift ensembles. “Let’s hope the highway reopens and the dresses you chose for your wedding can be delivered.”

“Not just the dresses,” Lacy said. “The wedding favors and some of the decorations are waiting to be delivered, as well. Not to mention some of the guests.” She returned to pinning the dress. “With less than a week to go, I can’t risk waiting much longer to figure out how to use what we have here—including this dress.” She inserted a pin in the hem of the skirt and sat back on her heels to study the results. “As it is, I may be going through the wedding shy one bridesmaid if the highway doesn’t open soon.”

“The road is going to open soon,” Emily said. “The weather reports look favorable.” Since the New Year, the southwest corner of Colorado had been hammered by a wave of snowstorms that had dumped more than six feet of snow in the mountains. The snow, and the avalanches that inevitably followed, had blocked the only road leading in and out of the small town of Eagle Mountain for most of the past month.

“Travis tried to talk me into delaying the wedding.” Lacy sighed. “Not just because of the weather, but because of this serial killer business.”

A serial murderer who had been dubbed the Ice Cold Killer had murdered six women in the area in the past few weeks. Lacy’s fiancé—Emily’s brother Sheriff Travis Walker—had been working practically ’round the clock to try to stop the elusive serial killer. Emily thought postponing the wedding until the killer was caught and the weather improved wasn’t such a bad idea, but she wasn’t a bride who had spent the past six months planning the ceremony and reception. “What did you tell him?” Emily asked.

“I told him I’m willing to postpone my honeymoon. I understand that being a sheriff’s wife means putting my needs behind those of the town. And I’ve been patient—I really have. I haven’t seen him in two days and I haven’t complained at all. But Sunday is my wedding day. All I ask is that he be here for a few hours. The case will wait that long.”

“It’s not just Travis,” Emily said. “Half the wedding party is law enforcement. There’s Gage.” Emily and Travis’s brother was a sheriff’s deputy. “Cody Rankin—he’s technically on leave from the US Marshals office, but he’s still working on the case. And Nate Harris—he’s supposed to be off work from his job with the Department of Wildlife to recover from his ankle injury, but he’s as busy as ever, from what I can tell. Oh, and Ryder Stewart—he’s had plenty of time to help Travis, since most of his highway patrol territory is closed due to snow.”

“Then they can be here for a few hours, too,” Lacy said. “That may sound terribly selfish of me, but I put so much of my life on hold for the three years I was in prison. I don’t want to wait any longer.” Lacy had been wrongfully convicted of murdering her boss. She and Travis had fallen in love after he had worked to clear her name.

“Then you deserve the wedding you want, when you want it,” Emily said. “I hope my brother was understanding.”

“He was, after I whined and moaned a little bit.” Lacy stood and walked around the chair to take in the dress from all sides. “I didn’t tell him this, but another reason I want to go ahead with the wedding is that I’m beginning to be afraid the killer won’t be caught. Travis and every other lawman in the area has been hunting this guy for weeks. It’s like he’s a ghost. Travis and Gage and the rest of them work so hard and the murderer just thumbs his nose at them.”

“It’s crazy.” Emily climbed down off the chair and began helping Lacy gather up the sewing supplies. “At first I was terrified. Well, I guess I’m still terrified, but honestly, I’m also angry.” She patted Lacy’s shoulder. “Anyway, I’m not going to let the killer or the weather get me down. The weather is going to hold, the road will open and you’ll have a beautiful wedding, without my fashion faux pas spoiling the day.”

“I hope you’re right and everyone I invited can be here,” Lacy said.

“Who in the wedding party is still missing?” Emily asked.

“Paige Riddell. She recently moved to Denver with her boyfriend, Rob Allerton.”

“Of course.” Paige had run a bed-and-breakfast in town prior to moving away. “I never knew her well, but she seemed really nice.”

“She is nice. And I really want her here for my wedding. But you can’t fight nature, I guess, so we’re going to make do no matter what.” She turned to Emily. “Thank you so much for everything you’ve done to help,” she said. “Not just with the wedding preparations, but all the work you’ve put into entertaining the wedding guests who are already here. I forget that the weather has forced you to put your own life on hold, too.”

Like everyone else who had been in town when the first blizzard struck, Emily had been stuck in Eagle Mountain for most of the past month. “The first few weeks I was on my winter break,” she said. She was working on her master’s at Colorado State University and was employed by the university as a teaching assistant and researcher. “It’s just the last ten days that I’ve missed. Fortunately, the university has been very understanding, letting me complete some of my coursework and research online, delaying some other work and arranging for another researcher to teach my undergrad class until I get back.”

“I’m glad,” Lacy said. “Can you imagine having to delay your master’s degree because of snow?”

“Snow has its upsides, too,” Emily said. “That sleigh ride last week was a blast, and I’m looking forward to the bonfire Wednesday.”

“Every party you’ve thrown has been a big success,” Lacy said. “I’m sure most brides don’t entertain their guests so lavishly.”

“Well, everything has gone well except the scavenger hunt,” Emily said. “I wouldn’t call that a success.”

“It’s not your fault Fiona was murdered during the party.” Lacy hugged herself and shuddered. “I thought for sure Travis would catch the killer after that—he was so close, right here on the ranch.”

Just like that, the conversation turned back to the Ice Cold Killer as the two friends remembered each of his victims—some of them locals they had known, a few tourists or newcomers they had never had a chance to meet. But every person who had fallen victim to the killer had been young and female, like Emily and Lacy. They didn’t have to say it, but they were both keenly aware that they might have been one of the killer’s victims—or they still might be.

Emily was relieved when the door to the sunroom, where they were working, opened and Bette Fuller, one of Lacy’s best friends and the caterer for the wedding, breezed in. Blonde and curvy, Bette always lit up the room, and today she was all smiles. “Rainey just got back from town and she says the highway is open.” Bette hugged Lacy. “I know this is what you’ve been waiting for.”

“Is Rainey sure?” Lacy asked.

“Rainey isn’t one for spreading rumors or telling lies,” Emily said. The ranch cook was even more stone-faced and tight-lipped than Travis. Emily looked down at the dress she was wearing, now bristling with pins and marks made with tailor’s chalk. “Maybe I won’t have to wear this old thing after all.”

“Rainey said there was a line of delivery trucks coming into town,” Bette said. “Which is a good thing, since the stores are low on everything.”

“I’m going to call Paige and tell her and Rob to drop everything and drive over right now—before another avalanche closes the road,” Lacy said. “And I need to check with the florist and look at the tracking for the bridesmaids’ dresses and the wedding favors and the guest book I ordered, too.”

“I can help you with some of that,” Bette said.

“You two go on,” Emily said. “I’ll finish cleaning up in here.” The prom dress—pins and all—could go back in the closet. If she was lucky, she’d never have to put it on again.

As she gathered up the clutter from around the room, she thought of all the work that went into weddings. This was only her second time serving as a bridesmaid, and she was looking forward to the ceremony, though she was a little nervous, too. Mostly, she hoped she wouldn’t get too emotional. Weddings were supposed to be hopeful occasions, but they always made her a little melancholy, wondering what her own wedding would have been like—and how different her life might have turned out if she had accepted the one proposal she had had.

Who was she kidding? If she had agreed to marry that man, it would have been a disaster. She had been far too young for marriage, and he certainly hadn’t been ready to settle down, no matter what he said. At least she had had sense enough to see that.

She was stowing the last of the sewing supplies and looking forward to changing back into jeans and a sweater when the door to the sunroom opened again and a man entered, obscured from the waist up by a tower of brown boxes. “I met the UPS driver on the way in and he asked me to drop these off,” said a deep, velvety voice that sent a hot tremor up Emily’s spine and made her wonder if she was hallucinating. “Whoever answered the door told me to bring them back here.”

“Thanks.” Emily hurried to relieve the man of his burdens, then almost dropped the boxes as she came face-to-face with Brodie Langtry.

The man who had once proposed to her. She felt unsteady on her feet, seeing him here in this house again after so long. And if she was upset, her family was going to be furious.

“Hello, Emily.” He grinned, his full lips curving over even, white teeth, eyes sparking with a blatant sex appeal that sent a bolt of remembered heat straight through her. “You’re looking well.” A single furrow creased his brow. “Though I have to ask—what is that you’re wearing?”

She looked down at the prom dress, the hem lopped off and bristling with pins, one ruffle hanging loose where Lacy had started to detach it. She looked back up at Brodie, feeling a little like she had been hit on the head and was still reeling from the blow. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“As it happens, the Colorado Bureau of Investigation sent me here to help your brother with a case,” he said. “I hear you’ve got a serial murderer problem.”

“Does Travis know you’re coming?” Her brother hadn’t said anything to her. Then again, he was probably trying to spare her feelings.

“He requested assistance from the CBI, though he doesn’t know it’s me. Is that going to be a problem?”

She bit her lower lip. “I don’t know.”

“It’s been five years, Emily,” he said.

Right. But it might have been five minutes for all the pain that was twisting her stomach. She hadn’t expected to react like this. She was supposed to be over Brodie. “You never answered my letter,” she said.

The crease across his brow deepened. “You sent me a letter?”

“You mean you don’t even remember?” The words came out louder than she had intended, and she forced herself to lower her voice. “I tried calling, but your number had been changed. Travis found out you’d been transferred to Pueblo, so I wrote to you there.”

He shook his head. “I never received your letter. Why did you write?”

Did he really not know? She pressed her hand to her stomach, hoping she wasn’t going to be sick. This was too awful. “It doesn’t matter now.” She turned away and tried to make her voice light. “Like you said, it was five years ago. I’m sure Travis will appreciate your help with the case.” Her brother was nothing if not a professional.

Brodie was silent, though she could feel his eyes boring into her. She began looking through the stack of packages. “I’ll ask again,” he said after a moment. “What is that you’re wearing?”

“It’s a prom dress,” she managed.

“Isn’t it the wrong time of year for prom? And aren’t you in graduate school?”

Her eyes widened and she froze in the act of reaching for a package. “How did you know I’m in graduate school?”

“I might have checked up on you a time or two. They don’t have proms in graduate school, do they?”

He’d checked up on her. Should she be flattered, or creeped out? “It’s the new thing. Haven’t you heard?” She continued scanning the labels on the boxes. She picked up the one that surely held her bridesmaid’s dress. Maybe instead of stuffing the prom dress back into her closet, she’d burn it at Wednesday night’s bonfire. That would be appropriate, wouldn’t it?

“What is all this?” Brodie swept his hand to indicate the piles of boxes, bits of tulle, sewing supplies, silk flowers and other flotsam piled around the room. “Are you getting ready for a big party?”

“Travis is getting married on Sunday,” Emily said. “I guess you didn’t know.” Then again, why would he? He and Travis had stopped being friends five years ago.

“No, I didn’t know. Good for him. Who’s the lucky woman?”

“Her name is Lacy Milligan. I’m sure you don’t know her.”

“No, but I know of her. Now it’s coming back to me.” He grinned. “Lacy is the woman Travis arrested for murder—then after new evidence came to light, he worked to clear her name. I remember the story now, though I didn’t know a wedding was in the offing.”

It hadn’t taken long for the media to latch onto the story of a wrongly accused woman falling in love with the law enforcement officer who had sent her to prison in the first place, then worked to clear her name. Most of the state was probably familiar with the story by now, but Emily didn’t want to discuss it with Brodie. “Travis is at his office in town,” she said, deciding it was past time to send Brodie on his way. “It’s on Main. You can’t miss it.”

Before he could answer, her cell phone buzzed and she grabbed it off a nearby table. “Hello?”

“Hey.” Travis’s greeting was casual, but his voice carried the tension that never left him these days. “I was trying to get hold of Lacy, but I can’t get through on her phone.”

“I think she’s talking to Paige, letting her know the highway is open.”

“She’s terrible about checking her messages, so do me a favor and tell her I’m not going to be able to take her to dinner today. I’m sorry, but we’ve had a break in the case.”

Emily’s heart leaped. “Have you made an arrest?”

“Not exactly, but we know who the killers are. One of them is dead, but the other is still on the loose.”

“A second murderer?” Travis had long suspected the Ice Cold Killer might be more than one man. If he had caught one of the killers, surely that meant he was closing in on the second. Maybe the case would be solved before the wedding after all. “Lacy will be glad to hear it,” Emily said.

“Maybe not so glad when you tell her I have to miss dinner. I need to focus on tracking down the second man.”

Which meant he probably wouldn’t be home to sleep, either. “Travis, you can’t keep working around the clock like this.”

“We’re going to get some help. The Colorado Bureau of Investigation has agreed to loan us one of their investigators. Now that the road is open, he—or she—should be showing up anytime.”

She glanced over her shoulder at Brodie, who was looking out the window. The past five years had been kind to him, filling out his shoulders, adding a few fine lines around his eyes. He wore his hair a little longer than when she’d last seen him, and sunlight through the window picked out the gold streaks in the brown. Add in chiseled cheekbones, a dimpled chin and a straight nose and it was no wonder he could be mistaken for a model or a movie star.

As if sensing her staring at him, he turned and met her gaze, then cocked one eyebrow, lips half-curved in a mocking smile.

“Emily? Are you still there?” Travis asked.

“Um, your help from the CBI is here,” she said. “It’s Brodie Langtry.” Not waiting to hear Travis’s reaction, she thrust the phone at Brodie. It’s Travis, she mouthed.

Brodie took the phone. “Travis! It’s been a long time. I’m looking forward to working with you on this case…Yes, I volunteered for the job. To tell you the truth, I thought it was past time we mended fences. I know we didn’t part under the best of circumstances five years ago and I’d like to clear the air. I’ve been catching up with Emily.”

She cringed at the words. She and Brodie didn’t need to “catch up.” They had had a fun time together once, and if it had ended badly, she took most of the blame for that. She’d been young and naive and had expected things from him that he had never promised to give. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

While he and Travis continued to talk about the case, she turned away and began opening the boxes, enjoying the way the scissors ripped through the tape, letting the sound drown out their conversation. As an investigator with the Colorado Bureau of Investigation, Brodie would no doubt bring a welcome extra pair of eyes to the hunt for the Ice Cold Killer. She needed to remember that he was here to help Travis and probably didn’t have the least interest in her. So there was no need for her to feel awkward around him.

Brodie tapped her on the shoulder and held out her phone. “Travis didn’t sound very happy to hear from me. Why is that, do you think?”

“You’ll have to ask him.” But she would make sure Travis didn’t tell Brodie anything he didn’t need to know. Best to leave the past in the past.

“I’m going to meet him in town and get caught up on this case,” he said. “But I’m hoping to see more of you later.”

Before she could think of an answer to this, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “It’s great to see you again, Emily,” he murmured, and she cursed the way her knees wobbled in response.

Then he strode from the room, the door shutting firmly behind him.

Emily groaned and snatched a pillow off the sofa. She hurled it at the door, half wishing Brodie was still standing there and she was aiming at his head. Brodie Langtry was the last person in the world she wanted to see right now. This next week with him was going to be her own version of hell.

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203 s. 6 illüstrasyon
ISBN:
9781474094498
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HarperCollins
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