Free Own the Night by Debbi Rawlins Page A

seven months old, when someone abandoned him. Poor mutt was only skin and bones.”
    She looked up, her lips parted, her expression aghast. “I wouldn’t have imagined anyone abandoning animals out here.”
    “You kidding me? People can be idiots everywhere.” He saw that he’d shocked her again. Probably his tone. He had a low tolerance for the poor treatment of animals. “The thing about rural communities is that folks tend to feel that animals have to be useful. Not everyone regards a dog or cat as a pet. They have to be able to herd cattle or be good mousers to earn their keep.”
    She seemed to mull over the information. “What’s Dax’s purpose?”
    Noah should’ve expected that question. “To keep me company.”
    Alana’s lips lifted in a slow smile that warmed her eyes. “I knew you were a softy.”
    In the nick of time, he stopped himself from uttering a cuss word. “Just what the sheriff of Salina County wants to be called—a softy.”
    Laughing, she sat down on the couch again. She’d forgotten to slip on the pajama pants, and he wasn’t about to remind her.
    “Did you grow up here?” She huddled under the afghan, drawing it tighter around her shoulders.
    “Born and raised on a small ranch about ten miles east of here.”
    “Oh.” She paused. “Is it still there?”
    “Yep.”
    “Why are you living here in town?”
    “Do you live with your parents?”
    “Oh, God.” She visibly shuddered. “The mere thought of living with my mother can make me break out in hives.”
    The cop in him snapped to attention. Making unguarded small talk could tell him a lot. “Where does she live?”
    “Manhattan.” Alana sighed. “About two miles from me, but we’re both busy so I only see her a couple times a month, usually an hour or so for dinner.”
    “What about your father?”
    She stared at Dax, who’d finished his bone and was licking crumbs from the rug. “I don’t have one,” she said in a flat, matter-of-fact tone.
    For the life of him, Noah couldn’t interpret her subtle mood shift. She didn’t seem angry or sad, precisely, which to his mind ruled out divorce, death and abandonment. So what then? He was good at reading people, but not her, which rekindled his uneasiness, and he wanted to keep her talking. “I see my parents once a week, Sunday dinner, like clockwork,” he offered, watching her closely. “More out of duty than anything else.”
    She transferred her attention to him, her brows arching in surprise. “You don’t get along with them?”
    “We get along okay.” He shrugged. “We just don’t have that much to talk about.”
    “Do you have siblings?”
    “Two sisters. One moved to Boise with her family, the other to Billings. That’s why I make sure I get out to the ranch and see the folks, check if they need help.”
    “I know Boise. Is Billings in Montana?”
    He nodded, looking for any tells but finding none. If she was one of the con artists Sheriff Moran was looking for, she’d know where Billings was. A bigger city would be prime stomping grounds for a grifter. “What about you? Sisters? Brothers?”
    “Just me—and of course, my mother.” Pretty clear good ol’ mom wasn’t her favorite person.
    “Ever been married?”
    She seemed startled at first, and then amused. “I’m a slave to my work. I wouldn’t even be taking a vacation except our offices are being moved so I was forced to leave. And look how well that turned out.”
    Right then and there Noah decided she wasn’t Moran’s suspect. No reason to try that hard at pretending she was a career woman from Manhattan. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if she was a high-powered attorney like Kara. “What do you—”
    “Have you ever—”
    They both spoke at the same time. He gestured for her to continue, and she asked, “Have you ever been married?”
    “Nope.” He caught the hint of a smile lurking at the corners of her mouth. “What?”
    “I don’t know, I guessed you to be the