His Most Wanted by Sandra Jones Read Free Book Online

with that, his week collapsed into horseshit.
    Honoring his uncle and repaying the old man’s debt were the reasons why Kit had come west. If bringing in a murderer would make Uncle Bart proud, he must do it.
    The deputy suddenly reached in his coat pocket, pulling Kit out of his thoughts. Kit dropped a hand on his holstered gun instinctively. Hazen had made it clear from the start that he wanted the sheriff job. Now the two of them must work together, but they were also rivals. Prickles of unease ran across the back of his neck, the finely honed sense that had him ready to draw and shoot if he must. But instead of a weapon, the deputy removed a piece of paper from inside his clothing. He passed it across the table to Kit.
    â€œThis here’s your first criminal…the one who killed the sheriff and tried to murder me.”
    Kit unfolded the worn paper, which turned out to be a poster.
    Reward $1,000 for the outlaw known as Velvet Grace.
    Wanted for murder and various crimes against society.
    â€œâ€˜Velvet Grace?’ Is that a woman’s name?” Incredulous, he glanced up to catch the deputy’s solemn nod.
    â€œThat’s what we’ve nicknamed her since she’s always seen wearin’ velvet. She’s cold-blooded. Targets lawmen. Beat one man in the street against a brick wall. Demolished another man’s home.”
    Kit reassessed Jim Hazen. Anger and embarrassment tinged the deputy’s voice, and in Kit’s experience, that much emotion clouded a thinking man’s judgment. No wonder the law hadn’t been able to bring in the killer.
    He took another look at the poster. Below the caption was a charcoal-shaded sketch of a hooded figure. “You’re pulling my leg, right? There’s no way anyone will recognize your killer with this likeness.”
    â€œCan’t be helped. No one’s seen her face. We don’t even know her hair color since she hides it beneath her hood.”
    â€œYou also realize she could be more than one person, right? And in clothes like this, she could be a he.”
    Hazen vehemently shook his head. “I know a female when I see one.” He winked.
    Kit’s late aunt, a gentile lady from Chicago, had raised him to use decorum at all times, so he managed to keep from rolling his eyes. “All right. As you say, she was seen leaving the sheriff’s apartment after the shooting, so I’ll try to find her and bring her in.” He folded the paper and slid it inside his vest. Suddenly, he wondered how long Hazen had carried the thing. Had the wanted poster represented some sort of unfulfilled fantasy for the deputy—a woman in disguise with whom the smarmy little man was obsessed? Kit’s tongue tasted acid at the unpleasant thought. And what had made the killer want to shoot the sheriff in the first place?
    Velvet Grace might be his first duty, but if he could find a worthy man to replace him as sheriff, the lady would be his last capture too. After all, he had yet to see his ranch.
    He glanced around the room full of cowboys. “Hazen, are any of these men herders?”
    The deputy reached for his whiskey. “A few.”
    â€œAny for hire?”
    Hazen nodded in the direction of a cowboy seated alone. The man’s salt-and-pepper hair was a little unkempt, but his gaze looked clear and his clothing carried the dust of a good day’s work. “That one’s Ben Hughes. Lived here all his life. Works out at the feed store now.”
    Kit ordered another drink from the barkeep, then carried two glasses to the cowboy’s table. If he was going to wear two hats for a while, as sheriff and rancher, he would need help with the farm.
    Just a few more days , he promised himself as he introduced himself to Hughes. “The deputy said you might be looking for a ranch job. I need to hire a cattle handler.”
    Hughes leaned back and nodded, regarding Kit with interest as he finished explaining