Cowboy Cool: Book 5 (Cowboy Justice Association) Read online

  Cowboy Cool

  Cowboy Justice Association

  Book Five

  By Olivia Jaymes

  www.OliviaJaymes.com

  COWBOY COOL

  Copyright © 2014 by Olivia Jaymes

  Kindle Edition

  E-Book ISBN: 978-0-9907996-0-3

  Print ISBN: 978-0-9907996-1-0

  Cover art by Sloan Winters

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  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

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Epilogue

  About Cowboy Command

  About Justice Healed

  About Cowboy Truth

  About Cowboy Famous

  About Cowboy Cool

  About The Deputies

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Reed Mitchell turned his truck into the quiet, middle class neighborhood and suppressed the urge to gun the engine loudly, just to rile up the residents a bit. It was clear it wasn’t that kind of place with its manicured green lawns, box-shaped hedges, and cookie-cutter homes all painted various shades of beige. He refused to think that people had actually chosen these colors of their own free will.

  Driving slowly down the sunny street with the window down to let in the crisp autumn air, he shuddered inwardly at the thought of living here—like this. The houses were too close together and the conformity too rigid. Reed wasn’t the biggest fan of society telling him how to act, think, or feel. Especially feel. So far in the last fifteen years or so he hadn’t felt anything really and it was working out well. Not giving a shit about almost everything made his life much easier and stress-free than the alternative.

  The only thing he ever worried about was the safety of his town, and he took that very seriously indeed. So seriously he hadn’t taken a vacation in over five years, a little tidbit of information the new mayor had come across and almost stroked out over. Now here Reed was on a forced holiday from the only thing he cared about and at the same time doing a favor for one of his best friends. Life was a merciless bitch with a strange sense of humor.

  He pulled into the driveway of 1309 Violet Road and reached under his leather jacket to his shirt pocket and pulled out the folded scrap of paper. Ava Wright, Logan’s wife, had written down the address and he matched it to the house numbers on the mailbox before he pounded on the wrong door.

  A quick glance told him he had the correct house, and if he played his cards right he could be out of here and back on the road toward his real destination in a couple of hours. Not that he was all that excited about Florida. He’d chosen the destination because he had a buddy there and it sounded like a place people went on vacation.

  He pressed the doorbell and waited on the porch where the homeowner had placed terra cotta pots of bright red and yellow flowers. Reed didn’t know shit about horticulture so they could have been tulips or roses or maybe something else for all he knew, but they managed to brighten up the deadly dull facade of the home and personalize it just a little. The door swung open and a pretty but frowning woman with auburn hair stood there clad in jeans and a black t-shirt with white lettering that read “Writers Do It With Imagination”.

  Yep, he was at the right place. According to Ava, her friend Kaylee Blue was also an author.

  “Kaylee?” he queried. “I’m Reed Mitchell. Ava sent me.”

  Her knitted brow immediately smoothed and she stepped back with a sigh. “Hello. I guess you better come in. I told Ava that she didn’t need to do this. I’m fine. Really.”

  “I’m sure you are,” he replied smoothly, hoping it was true. The more fine Kaylee was the sooner he would be on his way to his friend’s place in Vero Beach. Reed stepped through the doorway and into her living room. “Why don’t you tell me what’s been going on? Ava said you’ve received some disturbing emails.”

  Whatever Reed had been expecting the inside of Kaylee Blue’s home to look like based on the dreary exterior, those thoughts were blown completely out of the water. The large great room that encompassed the living, dining, and kitchen space was a tasteful riot of color and bold personality. A bright red couch and loveseat with gold striped throw pillows were placed in front of a stone fireplace complete with photos and flowers on the mantel. The furniture was a dark cherry and the lighter maple flooring gleamed in the light of the old-fashioned ceiling fan whirring above the room. Everywhere he looked there were plants, paintings, and an entire wall of floor to ceiling books.

  His own home in Montana was a bastion of bachelorhood with Spartan furnishings and the requisite big-ass flat screen television that he hardly ever watched. He was too busy working.

  “Please sit down.” She indicated the sofa and Reed lowered himself into the comfortable cushions. “Can I get you anything? Ava said you were on vacation and headed down to Florida. Have you been driving all morning?”

  He had actually and his throat was parched. “I wouldn’t mind something to drink. I’ve been on the road since dawn.”

  Kaylee bustled into the kitchen that opened onto the living room and peered into the refrigerator. “I have milk, ginger ale, water, and iced tea. With sugar.”

  Reed liked the sound of her voice, soft and a little husky but still firm and sure. So many women seemed to make everything sound like a complaint or a catastrophe. Or maybe it was just the ones he came across as a peace officer. He didn’t meet people on their best days for the most part.

  “Ginger ale, thank you.” He noticed the kitchen was well-equipped with everything a foodie would love. At one point he’d dated a professional chef so he knew quality when he saw it. “Do you like to cook?”

  Her eyebrows shot up as she handed him a glass and sat opposite on the loveseat. “How on earth did you know that? Do I have part of my lunch on my shirt?”

  Kaylee looked down with a scowl and brushed at her clothes.

  “I’m a cop. It’s my job to notice things. You have a six burner gas stove with a double oven, a marble-topped island the size of your sofa, and a set of copper pots. You either like to cook or you want people to think you like to cook.” He took a sip of the ginger ale and tried not to notice how her t-shirt pulled tightly across her full breasts when she moved. She wasn’t very tall but was extremely curvy. Reed had never liked the stick-figure look so many females starved themselves for. A woman was supposed t
o have boobs and an ass. “So I’d like to get a look at those emails if you don’t mind.”

  Kaylee folded her hands in her lap, her expression conflicted and a little stubborn. “There’s really nothing to see. I told Ava that when I talked to her yesterday and again this morning. I’ve received nasty emails before. Not everyone is going to like what an author writes. You have to have a thick skin in this business. Ava gets them too, just not this type.”

  “What type would that be?” If Reed didn’t see these emails for himself he’d never hear the end of it from Logan, and Logan would never hear the end of it from Ava. So Reed needed to see the damn emails.

  “The ‘you’re going to burn in hell’ emails.” Kaylee shrugged as if getting them was an everyday occurrence. “Ava doesn’t get those like I do.”

  Reed scowled as he studied the woman’s body language. She didn’t seem upset in the least which was strange. At least to him it was. “Why would someone send you something like that? Is your work controversial?”

  Maybe she wrote political or religious stuff. That could get a crowd twisted into knots pretty quickly and without much trying.

  Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink and she looked down at her fingers, now twisted in her lap. “I write erotic romance. The sex can be—how do I say this—quite graphic in my books. I don’t use euphemisms.”

  This was a fascinating turn. Reed loved books but he had never ventured into what he considered to be women’s territory—romance. But if they had hot sex then he might just make an exception.

  “I’m not sure what you mean by euphemisms.” He knew what the word meant, he simply wasn’t sure why this was so different than other books.

  Kaylee shifted uncomfortably on the couch cushion and looked up at him. “What I mean is I don’t use flowery language—purple prose, so to speak—for body parts. I use–” she broke off, obviously noticing his ever-widening grin and groaned in exasperation. “For heaven’s sake, grow up.”

  “Sorry, I just don’t think I’ve ever read a book like that,” Reed countered, not feeling remorseful in the least. The girl could probably dish it out as well he could given half the chance based on how she’d come right back at him. “Listen, I’m sorry about that. So you write some sexy stuff and every now and then someone takes offense. They shoot off an email telling you that you’re tunneling your way straight to hell to sit at the right hand of Lucifer. Is that about right?”

  “That’s it.” Kaylee nodded in agreement, her temper already calmed. She didn’t appear to hold a grudge. “I get them from time to time.”

  “But Ava’s freaked out about these emails,” Reed observed. “What’s different?”

  “Other than her pregnancy has put her on bed rest and she’s bored as hell? I have no idea,” Kaylee declared. “She’s letting her rioting hormones rule her common sense. Logan should run for the hills while he can.”

  Reed couldn’t argue with that sound logic but also knew his long-time friend wouldn’t do it. Logan Wright was so damn in love with Ava he’d do anything to make her happy, especially now that she was stuck in bed all day awaiting the birth of their twins. That’s why Reed was here, after all. Ava was worried about Kaylee and Logan was stuck in Montana dealing with his wife. Getting drafted for this assignment had been inevitable.

  “Nothing else?” he pressed. “Same old, same old?”

  Kaylee sighed heavily and got up from the couch, crossing over to the kitchen island where a laptop sat on the counter. “The only difference is I’ve received two from the same person. Normally I get one, ignore them, and they quietly go away.”

  She came back and sat next to him on the couch and flipped open the laptop, tapping on the keys. “You can take a look for yourself. Boring stuff.”

  Reed scrolled through the vitriol spewed on the screen feeling slightly sick that anyone could send that to a person, let alone a female. For someone concerned with Kaylee’s eternal soul, they’d used some hateful speech to get their point across.

  Your whorish writing is the work of the devil and will sentence you to eternal damnation. Repent now and perhaps you will not be tortured and incinerated in the bowels of Hell. Fornication is a sin and your books lead good people down an evil path.

  Then Reed opened the second.

  Sin peddler. Slut. Fornication with beasts will send you straight to Hell and I will laugh as you are impaled on pitchforks and your flesh burned by flames. An eternity of pain and torture await you and I look forward to that day with glee.

  “Fuck, this is one sick bastard,” Reed muttered, setting the laptop on the coffee table in front of him. “You get these all the time? Shit, what kind of books do you write again?”

  “Erotic romance. It’s not even erotica. It’s always about two people falling in love with a happily ever after at the end. They don’t sleep around. They’re committed to one another.”

  Reed could hear the impatience in Kaylee’s voice as if this wasn’t the first time she’d made that explanation. He hated to make her do it again but he needed to know what he was dealing with.

  “This one talks about bestiality.” Reed pointed to the screen and Kaylee rolled her eyes.

  “I have a shapeshifter series. The men are part of a wolf pack and they can turn into wolves. But they never have sex in shifted form.”

  “Shapeshifters?” Reed repeated, not even sure what that meant. “Are you saying that the humans in your books can change into something else?”

  This time she smiled at his confusion. “Sure can.”

  “Whenever they want?”

  “Yep.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  “No.”

  “And people like to read about it?”

  “They think it’s hot.”

  Reed sat back on the couch and stroked his chin. “This I have to read.”

  Kaylee’s smile grew wider. “I can hook you up. I have some paperbacks in the spare room.”

  Reed had a “To Be Read” list that he’d probably never be able to finish but he’d put her book at the head of the line.

  “I may take you up on that, although I usually read on my e-reader.”

  “I can handle that as well.” Kaylee gave him a questioning look. “So that’s what has Ava’s knickers in a knot. I think she’s overreacting.”

  It was clear this woman wanted Reed to agree. While the emails were venom-filled there was nothing all that personal about them. The writer didn’t make any threats, nor did they seem to know Kaylee’s address or phone number or any other identifying characteristics. While nasty, they could have been to any author.

  Still, Reed wanted a little more information.

  “When did you receive them? And how do these people get your email address anyway?”

  Kaylee sighed and got up from the couch and headed into the kitchen, pulling open the refrigerator door and grabbing a can of soda.

  “My email address is on my website. For the most part I encourage my readers to contact me to talk about my books. As for when these arrived? The first on Monday of last week and the second one the beginning of this week.”

  The timing didn’t seem urgent. Reed had seen stalkers flood their victims with communication every hour of the day and night, their obsession that great.

  “Can I see some of your other emails like this?”

  Her forehead wrinkled and she shook her head. “I don’t keep them. They’re not exactly souvenirs.”

  “You delete them?” he persisted, dragging the laptop closer. “Could they still be in your deleted folder?”

  “Maybe.” Kaylee shrugged and came back to sit next to him. “I don’t get a lot of these, Mr. Mitchell. When I do I just hit the ‘X’ and move on. That’s it.”

  “Call me Reed,” he said absently as he combed through the deletes, not seeing anything of interest. “Does the originating email address mean anything to you?”

  “If you’re asking if I know anyone named ‘bookchiller’ the answer is no.”


  Reed studied the sender’s address but it was a generic email host that anyone could sign up for without identification. Honestly, the email could have come from anywhere if the person had some technology knowledge, or even basic search engine skills. Instructions for spoofing an email address were available on the web.

  “Listen, I don’t think this is a big deal. From what you’re telling me this happens from time to time and you ignore it. Which by the way is a good practice. Don’t give people like this any attention.”

  “So you’ll tell Ava that I won’t be bludgeoned to death in my sleep?”

  Reed chuckled at Kaylee’s spunk. “I don’t know your neighbors or the crime statistics of Champaign, Illinois but I will say that I don’t think these two emails ring any warning bells. Now if things escalate, that’s a whole different story. I would, however, report these emails to the police. Just in case you get more and this becomes an issue.”

  Kaylee groaned and slumped back on the cushions. “You have got to be kidding. What are the police going to do?”

  “Probably nothing.” Reed closed the laptop and turned so he could look into her eyes. “But—and this is important—if this continues they’ll have a record of the harassment. They could also have a computer expert find the source of the emails.”

  Jared could definitely do it, and Reed could as well if given enough time.

  “Fine.” Her arms crossed over her chest and it made Reed wonder if she would really make the call. She definitely had a negative vibe about the entire situation. “I’ll call them but they’re going to think I’m wasting their time.”

  “Speaking as a lawman, I’d rather people waste my time every now and then. There’s nothing wrong with caution.”

  Her lips tightened and her eyes narrowed. Apparently this stubborn miss didn’t like being lectured. Too bad. He wasn’t done.

  “Before I leave I’ll check your home for any vulnerabilities. That way you…and Ava…can feel safe.” He pointed to the front door. “You can help by not opening the door to just anyone. Next time ask me who the hell I am before you open the damn door.”