He stares at me coldly. “It wasn’t luck. And there was nothing small or petty about it.”
I give him my best skeptical look.
“You were easy,” he snaps. “I’ve framed people far smarter than you without breaking a sweat. It was embarrassing how quickly you folded.” His gaze drags over me. “How easy you still are. You don’t want this recording out? What are you willing to do to keep it silent?”
“Nothing,” I say sincerely. “I recognize when I’ve been beaten. But it still won’t get you what you want from Logan. He won’t change the trust.”
“He will,” Dawson snarls. “I haven’t even started yet.” His lips curl. “How’s this for a mastermind move? Would your boyfriend change the trust to getyourdrug charges dropped? You look like a girl who dabbles in paraphernalia. I’ve got some meth at the station; it’d be easy enough to make it yours. If that doesn’t motivate him, a couple of years in jail may do you some good.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Logan step through thenarrow entrance.
“How doyoufeel about spending a couple of years in prison, Marshal Dawson?” Logan says.
“Logan,” I say, my heart in my throat.
His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t look at me. His eyes are spearing Dawson, and Dawson alone.
“Are you threatening me again?” Dawson shakes his head. “You didn’t learn your lesson the first time? Need a few more nights in jail, hmm?”
“Weallheard,” Logan says, gesturing behind him to where his brothers and sister, along with Mayor Ortiz, appear around the edges of the cave entrance, their faces serious.
“Gabby,” Dawson sputters. “It’s… I didn’t—”
“I’ve never seen anyone turn puce before,” Seth remarks. “I can see the headlines now: ‘A Puce Town Marshal Dawson Resigns After Being Caught Threatening to Plant False Evidence.’”
“Caught?” says Dawson. “Nothing to catch. You misunderstood me, that’s all.”
“We all heard what you said,” Logan says coolly.
His jaw tightens. “It’s your word against mine.”
“Actually,” I say, extracting my phone from my bra. Not my classiest moment, but it still has the intended effect. I stop the recording and hit the save button. “What should I name this? Mouthy Marshal Dawson, perhaps?”
Dawson looks speechless. “You were recording me?”
“It’s legal,” says Ethan. He’s not smiling, but the twinkle in his eye gives him away. “She’s perfectly within her rights to record her conversations.”
“Rick, a word, if you please?” the mayor says stiffly. “Sierra, could you send me a copy of the recording once you haveservice?”
“Of course,” I say.
“It’s not what it sounded like,” Dawson protests as Mayor Ortiz walks away. “Gabby, please.”
“Oh, man, that was crazy!” Emily says. “Ah! I just came over here because you took the cards that announce the poets, and then to hearthat!”
I barely register Emily’s words because Logan is walking toward me, his face dark with emotion. Each step lands in time with every heavy, painful thud of my heart.
Logan carefully pries the emcee cards from me and hands them to Emily. I gasp as the brief touch sparks across my skin like a crackle of electricity. Memories flood in of when we were in this cave before—his gentle touches, his sweet patience with me, and the resulting emotional intimacy we shared.
Panic claws up my throat. What if it’s too late? What if he won’t give me another chance? I can’t stand the thought that I ruined this, that I threw it all away.
The adrenaline, which had started to dissipate slightly after confronting Marshal Dawson, surges back, and I begin to tremble.
“Well, go on,” he says to Emily when she lingers.
With a huff, Emily disappears.
He looks into my eyes, his expression intense. Then the thundercloud smooths out from his face into something soft as he looks at me. “Sierra. Baby, what are you doing here? Why would you meet with that psycho alone? What if he had hurt you?”
