Melody did not like being inside the police station. It brought back some rather unpleasant memories of the years she had spent in foster care. Sometimes Melody wondered if it was bad behavior that had put her in that situation, or just a bad environment. Melody had wanted so badly to fit in as a teenager that she had done too many things that other people wanted her to instead of following her own instincts.

The ring of phones, the shouting of men as they called out to each other inside the big common office area of the police station. Those were all part of the television image of such a place. The reality was quite different. The first thing that always struck Melody was the silence.

She walked into the police station, and there was utter and complete silence in the echoing space. Of course, the entry area was completely empty because it was totally separated from the rest of the building by huge stone walls and bulletproof windows. The only way to get service of any kind was to talk to a tiny round silver grate. If you were lucky, the young woman or man behind the counter could hear you without you yelling and having to tell anyone else within a mile what your problem was.

“Can I help you?” the nasally voice behind the counter asked.

Melody took a big deep breath. “I need to speak with Captain Weatherby.”

There was a noticeable pause. “Do you have an appointment?”

“Not exactly.” Melody wondered if she wasn’t really stepping into it this time. But she hadn’t done anything wrong. There was no reason for them to take her behind that screen and just lock her up because the captain wanted her to sign away her land. “My name is Melody Farrell. Can you please just tell him I’m here? He’s been trying to get a hold of me for several weeks now.”

The woman looked dubious but eventually sighed. “Have a seat.” The lady pointed to the long line of hard plastic chairs against the wall. “I’ll contact him and we’ll see what he decides.”

“So, he is in today at least?” Melody thought that was a good sign. Right? If he was at work, that meant he was going about his normal life and not plotting against the Hernandez family like they always seemed to believe.

“Yes. He’s in.” The woman managed to look down her nose at Melody even though Melody was the one standing and the lady was sitting. “Just sit down please, and I’ll be with you shortly.”

Shortly turned out to be at least fifteen minutes. Melody fidgeted and felt her panic beginning to rise. She could not help but stare at the clock hanging above the desk. The hands were inching toward the moment when Melody would no longer be able to stay because she had to leave in order to get to work on time.

The second hand clicked its way around the clock. Melody could not stop staring at it. She felt mesmerized by the sight. It felt as though her whole life hung on that stupid second hand. She wanted it to end. She wanted it to be over and done and just—finished.

“Melody?”

She startled so hard that she nearly fell off the hard chair. Holy crap! Captain Paul Weatherby was standing right there in front of her, and she had no idea what to actually say to him. It was scary enough to be standing before a guy dressed in a full police uniform complete with gun. Especially when that individual had absolutely pulled a gun on her just a few nights ago in what was actually her own home.

Melody cleared her throat. She stood and forced herself to look up and meet Captain Weatherby’s gaze. “I wanted to speak to you about the land and the house. Can we step inside an office or something to get some privacy?”

“Of course.” He was all toothy smiles and friendliness. “Let’s just use one of these interview rooms right here.”

That was good, right? He could not pull a gun on her or say anything threatening if they were in a room that was probably monitored twenty-four seven by the security feed there in the police station.

Melody followed the captain into a fairly decent-sized room separated from the entrance area by a wall of bulletproof glass. There was a table and four chairs inside. No other decoration graced the austere white walls. It felt cold and unfriendly in there, but it was a police station. It probably wasn’t supposed to be particularly friendly.

“Have a seat.” Weatherby was messing with a panel of knobs and switches by the door. “I’ll just turn off the security cameras and microphones so we can have some privacy.”

Well, crap. There went that theory. Melody cleared her throat and took a seat with her back to a corner. If the captain did not sit down in one of the other chairs, then Melody was going to stand up. She was far too twitchy to sit anyway.

“Ms. Farrell,” Captain Weatherby began as he took a seat. “I wanted to apologize for the other evening. I did not realize you were in that house. I just assumed that I had another Hernandez claim jumper on my hands. They’re very bad about that sort of thing.” Weatherby paused as though he were trying to decide how much to say. His lined face had been hard baked by the wind and sun. He looked like everyone’s idea of the perfect grandfather. It was odd to feel so frightened of him. “See, the Hernandez Land & Cattle Company is trying to not only corner the beef market here in Colorado, but they’re also attempting to take over just about every large stock contract for every single rodeo or livestock event in the region. It’s a lot of money, and it’s a big deal to us smaller ranchers.” He placed his hand flat against his chest as though he were trying to emphasize what a grass roots kind of guy he was.

Melody swallowed. She was starting to feel comfortable in spite of everything she knew about this man. He had been pressuring her. Behind the scenes, he was a pushy bastard who wanted what he wanted and did not care who got in the way.

“Captain Weatherby,” Melody began softly. “I realize that I have no way of finding out if you had a gentleman’s agreement with my grandfather or not. And I understand that you are not responsible for the taxes on that land. If you’re leasing it, then the owner or the manager should pay the taxes. That seems pretty straightforward. What I’m telling you is that they have not been. And I know that you’re aware of that.” Melody took a big breath. This was crucial. “What I’m asking is whether or not you know who was supposed to be responsible for that detail.”

Weatherby gave a careless shrug. “That’s a question for Watson.”

“Oh, believe me,” Melody said through gritted teeth. “He’ll answer it if I have anything to say about it. But I want you to realize that I’m not trying to kick you off the land. I don’t have an interest in ranching. I just want the house and the immediate acreage right there at the barn. You know? I want the contents of that house, which are mine, and which are the only thing that tie me to a family I never had a chance to know.”

Weatherby’s features arranged themselves into a mask of understanding and compassion. She could not help but feel that it was fake. She shouldn’t be telling him this stuff. She was only giving him ammunition against her. That was her worry. She was telling him how to hurt her, and it wasn’t a good idea.

“I’m sorry.” Melody stood up. “I shouldn’t have come to bother you with things that aren’t your problem. I just wanted you to know that if I can get this thing with Mr. Watson straightened out, then I would like to offer you the lease on the land. That’s it. At least if we can come to an agreement.”

Weatherby’s smile grew brittle. “And if you don’t get this thing with Watson straightened out?”

Melody swallowed back her fear and tried to be bold. This was her time. This was her land and her future and the only opportunity she had to make it work. “I suppose I’ll have to offer at least the land for sale,” she reasoned. “Then it will be available to the highest bidder.”

“The highest bidder,” Weatherby said flatly. “Are you kidding me? You would sell that right out from under me?”

“No. Of course not.” She stood up and shrugged. She needed to go. She needed to get out of this box. That’s what she knew. “This is the only opportunity I have to pay off these taxes that I owe and try to move on with the inheritance that my grandparents left to me. So, if you want that land, you’ll have an opportunity to bid for it just like everyone else.”

“I’ll take it in a tax auction if I want to.” He was growling now. There was no more pretext of smiling or pretending to be nice and grandfatherly. His eyes were hard, and he looked ready to jump up and throttle her. “You think you’ve got time, but you don’t. Those taxes are five years overdue.”

“There’s an injunction on that repossession though.” Suddenly Melody realized just how much Cisco had protected her. “The courts are waiting for Watson to respond. You and I both know he was funneling those profits somewhere. And if not, then you weren’t paying anything for using the land even though you had a gentleman’s agreement and have told me—yourself—multiple times—that you were paying a leasing fee for that land. So, the money should have been going to pay the bills. It wasn’t.” Melody was moving toward the door. She put her hand on the knob. It turned. Thank God! She had been mildly afraid that it would not turn and she would find herself trapped in this glass box with Weatherby.

“You think what you want,” Weatherby told her. “But when you’re frantically trying to pack up all of your grandparents’ crap so you can save your precious heritage, you’ll be watching me with my tractor just waiting to bulldoze that place to the ground.”

Melody struggled to keep her temper. It would not do to show fear. This was like every other situation in her life involving an authority figure with too much power and no sense of what was right. She had grown up dealing with assholes like him. Surely by now she knew how it was done.

She opened the door to the interview room and left. It felt good to turn her back on Weatherby and just walk out. She didn’t need his crap. She didn’t need his lies or his false promises and pretend compassion.

“I know about your past,” Weatherby called after her.

Melody turned around and gave him her most frigid glare. “So what? Everyone knows about my past. It was supposed to be a juvenile record. It was supposed to be private, but we all know that’s bullshit. If you police types want someone’s past plastered all over the city, you make sure it’s done. It’s just one more reason why you can’t trust a cop.”

“You can trust me to use that against you in this case.” Weatherby was shouting now.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the women in the front window staring at the two of them. There were looks of complete confusion on their faces. Perhaps they had never seen how Captain Weatherby really acted. Maybe they believed the facade. Well, perhaps it was time to set the record straight.

With that goal in mind, Melody spun around and pointed at Weatherby. Then she pointed at the women in the window. “Do you see what he’s like? Really?” Melody shouted. She didn’t care that she was on video. In fact, she welcomed it. “I wanted to be nice and offer him a lease on my land. I wanted his help in finding out who cheated my grandparents for the last five years! They were supposedly his neighbors and his friends!” Of course, she embellished that, but at this point, what did it matter? “Now he’s threatening me! He’s going to tear down my grandparents’ house and take my land because he can! Because he’s rich. Because he’s a police captain and nobody believes that he’s really a crook! That is what he’s like.” She turned and stabbed her finger in Weatherby’s direction. “Do you hear that, Captain Paul Weatherby? You are a crook! You blame everything on the Hernandez family?” Somehow Melody was beginning to realize that this was truer than anything else. “Well, I didn’t know either of you before two weeks ago! And now the only thing I can say is that only Paul Weatherby of the Flying W is trying to cheat me!”

Melody turned and marched out of that police station feeling more vindicated than she had in ages. There was a horrible feeling in her chest that her past was about to come knocking, but there was nothing she could do to stop that from happening. It was her past. It wasn’t pretty. But then nothing in her life so far had been on the pretty side. She was broke. She was uneducated. She was barely scraping along. She had one chance to change that, and some asshole cop was trying to take that away from her.

Striding toward the bus station, Melody tried to decide if she was willing to believe that this was a coincidence. It was hard to believe that was true. In fact, it seemed more likely that Paul Weatherby had always known about his neighbor’s granddaughter. Why would he not? If a police officer had his eye on the property of a childless neighbor, wouldn’t he scope out any possible heirs long before they became an issue? It wasn’t like he didn’t have access to that sort of information. Why not use it?

Melody stood at the bus station and waited. She felt strangely pleased with the way things had turned out. She hadn’t been entirely successful in her attempt to take control of her destiny, but she still felt better for being proactive. She was not Allie. She would not just lie down and expect everyone to take care of her. She wouldn’t! Melody Ann Farrell could be better than that!