Читать книгу Finger On The Trigger - Delores Fossen - Страница 11

Chapter Three

Griff and she had managed to get away from a killer.

She kept reminding herself of that. Kept reminding herself, too, that they were alive. But it might be a long time before that all sank in. Especially since the would-be killer had managed to escape. He was still out there. Maybe regrouping. Perhaps planning another attack. And maybe next time, Griff and she wouldn’t be so lucky.

With that terrifying possibility going through her mind, Rachel looked out at the McCall Canyon sheriff’s office when Griff pulled to a stop in front of it. She took a deep breath, trying to steel herself.

It didn’t work.

Of course, there wasn’t much that would help steady her right now. She was going to have to face her family, and there probably wasn’t enough steel in her backbone to get her through that. Because she was already close to the breaking point.

If Griff hadn’t pulled her into that alley when he did, she would have died in the car explosion. Ditto for him getting her to his truck so they could get away. While she was very glad to be alive, she couldn’t forget that in those blink-of-an-eye moments, the outcome could have been a whole lot different. Griff and she could both be dead.

“Thank you,” she told him.

He’d already reached to open the door of his truck, but he stopped and looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. That’s when she realized he’d misinterpreted what she’d said.

“I’m not thanking you for bringing me here,” Rachel corrected. “But for saving my life.”

Griff just sat there, perhaps waiting for something else. Maybe for her to blast him for finding her when she’d made it so clear that she hadn’t wanted to be found. She hadn’t wanted him in her life, either. However, that was an argument that could wait. For now, she had two other items on the agenda.

Her brothers.

Both Court and Egan were right there in the squad room when Griff and she went in. Anyone who saw her brothers together like this had no doubt they were related. They had the same dark brown hair and intense gray eyes. Rachel had obviously gotten their mother’s genes, since her hair was blond and her eyes blue. Still, there was enough family resemblance for people to tell she was a McCall, too.

Thankfully, there were no other lawmen around, not even a dispatcher. And she was especially thankful that her father wasn’t here. Since this probably wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation, Rachel preferred that as few people as possible were present.

Griff’s phone dinged with a text message—something that had been happening during most of the drive from Silver Creek. He’d had Rachel read those to him so he could focus on the drive, but he didn’t make that offer now. He stepped to the side, probably not only to read the text but to give her some time with Egan and Court.

As Griff had done in the truck, her brothers just stared at her for a moment. They looked her over from head to toe, their gazes lingering on the jacket she was wearing.

It was Griff’s.

He’d given it to her in the truck when she’d started shaking. Not just because she was wet from the rain, but because the adrenaline had still been slamming into her. She’d gladly accepted the jacket. And had tried not to notice that it carried Griff’s scent.

Rachel failed at that, too. She noticed.

Court was the first to budge. He cursed—the profanity definitely meant for her—and then he pulled her into his arms. “Leaving town like that was a really stupid thing to do,” he whispered to her, while he brushed a kiss on her cheek.

“I didn’t have a choice,” she whispered back.

Court pulled away, studied her eyes, then he nodded. Perhaps that meant he understood that what their father had done had shaken her so badly that she’d needed to put some distance between them. What Court probably didn’t know was that the deepest cut had come from Griff.

Again, though, that was an argument with Griff she’d need to postpone, because she had to face Egan. Unlike Court, he didn’t come to her. Her other brother stood there, giving her one of his infamous glares that no doubt worked on criminals. Not kid sisters, though. Rachel went to him and hugged him. It was like hugging a statue, because his muscles were rock hard. But then she felt him relax.

“I was worried about you,” he said against her ear. “Don’t you ever make me worry about you like that again.”

No need for her to tell him that she’d been concerned, too. Not just with leaving McCall Canyon, but with everything that had gone on tonight. Concerned and scared. All their lives had changed on a dime when their father had been shot, and the changes apparently weren’t over yet. Griff had said there were new threats, and with the attack, it could mean the person who’d made those threats wasn’t finished with her family.

Or not.

This might not be connected at all, which made it all the more frustrating. Someone wanted her dead, and she not only didn’t know who, Rachel didn’t know why.

“Griff said you weren’t hurt,” Egan added. “Is it true?”

“I’m okay,” she settled for saying.

He let the hug linger a few more seconds before he moved back and looked at Griff. “Tell me how we catch the SOB who tried to kill Rachel.”

On the drive over, Griff had filled Egan in on the basics while on speakerphone. Well, he’d done that after they’d been sure the shooter wasn’t following them. He had also had several conversations with Sheriff Ryland.

What Griff hadn’t done was talked to Rachel.

Like Egan, he was clearly still fuming that she’d left town and then had gotten herself into a dangerous situation. She hadn’t purposely run toward the danger. She’d been running to get away from Griff and her father. Now, here she was—right back with them. Or at least she soon would be with both of them because she was certain that either Egan or Court had already called their father.

Griff quit reading the text on his phone and shifted his attention to Egan. “Sheriff Ryland is getting us footage from a security camera outside a bank that was just up the street from where Rachel had her car parked. We might be able to see who planted the explosive device.”

Rachel wasn’t holding out hope. If the guy was bold enough to do something like that on Main Street, then he was probably aware of the position of the camera. Still, they might get lucky. If not, maybe someone had even seen the person and could give them a description.

Egan hooked his arm around her and got her moving to his office, which was at the back of the squad room. Once he had her there, he practically sat her in the chair next to his desk, then got her a bottle of water from his fridge.

She’d been in this office many times—when it’d been her father’s, and then for the past four years since it was Egan’s. It hadn’t changed in, well, forever. Same desk. Same filing cabinet. Same fridge.

The picture was there on the wall, of course. A photo of Egan, Court, her and their late brother, Warren Jr.—or W.J. as folks had called him. W.J. had been dead for nearly a decade now. Shot and killed in the line of duty when he’d been a deputy sheriff on call at a domestic dispute that had turned deadly.

The pain and grief from losing him felt as fresh as if she’d just lost him hours ago instead of all those years. That was the picture she had in her head. Her brother dead. His life cut much too short because he’d been wearing a badge and trying to do the right thing.

And that was the reason Rachel had sworn she would never fall for a cop.

That included a Texas Ranger like Griff.

“Tell me about this dirtbag who’s riled at you,” Egan insisted.

That was his big-brother tone, and it caused her to sigh. Egan had always been protective of her, which was why he often shot Griff scowling looks. Like now. Neither their father nor Egan had ever thought Griff was the right man for her. And he wasn’t. He’d proved that last month.

“His name is Marlon Stowe,” Rachel answered, after she had a long sip of the water. “His folks own the inn where I was staying, and he works part-time in the office there. He believes I’m responsible for his girlfriend leaving him. I suppose I am,” she added.

“I’ve already requested a background check on him,” Griff explained. “I’m waiting on a call about him now.” He took out his phone and showed her the photo on the screen. “That’s the guy, right?”

She nodded. It was Marlon’s DMV photo that Griff had apparently gotten in that text. “His hair’s a little lighter in this picture than it was the last time I saw him.” Marlon definitely didn’t look like a cowboy. He had the clean and polished appearance of a businessman. One with a tense edge to him.

“Checking out Marlon is a good start,” Rachel continued. “He gives me the creeps, but he hasn’t been around the inn for the last week or so. Plus, he’s never been...actually physically aggressive. He just made it very clear that he was furious with me because I convinced his girlfriend to leave him.” She paused. “You’re sure our half brother or our father’s mistress isn’t behind this?”

Griff quickly shook his head. “Your half brother is a cop. And no, there’s no indication whatsoever that he’s dirty. His name is Raleigh Lawton, by the way. He’s a county sheriff.”

She knew that. Rachel hadn’t been able to resist looking him up online. “We’re certain Raleigh is really Warren’s son?”

“Warren says he is,” Griff confirmed. “Raleigh refused to have a DNA test. He wants nothing to do with Warren, your brothers or you.”

Rachel didn’t fault him for that, since she felt the same way about Warren. “How about his mother then?”

Her name was Alma Lawton. Rachel knew plenty about her, too, but it wasn’t plenty enough to understand why her father had carried on an affair with the woman and had a child with her.

“I’ve already called Alma,” Court said. “She’ll be in first thing in the morning for questioning.”

Rachel was betting the woman wouldn’t care much for that, and it almost certainly wasn’t the first time her brothers or Griff had brought the woman in. No. Because Alma was once a person of interest in her father’s shooting and could have been connected to the actual shooter, Whitney. After all, Alma had been his mistress for years, and it was possible she’d just gotten tired of waiting for Warren to leave his family for her.

But that wasn’t motive for Alma to go after one of Warren’s kids.

Was it?

Maybe if the woman wanted to punish Warren, she might believe that was the way to do it. But there were a lot of “ifs” in that theory. It was possible that Alma was the one who’d ended the longtime affair, and if so, that would mean she didn’t have a motive for what was going on.

“We haven’t told Mom about the attack,” Court went on. “We thought that was best, considering.”

Yes, considering that their mother was in a mental hospital. That was something else she could thank her father for doing. Hearing the news of her husband’s affair and his other life had sent Helen over the edge.

“I won’t say anything when I talk to her,” Rachel assured them. Which would be soon. Rachel had been calling her every day for the past month, and she wouldn’t miss the call tomorrow, either.

“You haven’t asked about Dad,” Egan said. He didn’t wait for her to respond. “He got out of the hospital about two weeks ago, and he’s upset that you ran off before he had a chance to explain.”

Rachel could practically feel her blood pressure soaring. “Well, you can tell him I’m upset that he couldn’t be faithful to his wife.”

She didn’t bother to take the venom out of her voice but hated that she’d aimed it at Egan. Court was more of the forgiving sort and had probably worked out a way to make amends with Warren, but Egan was likely just as bitter about this as she was. The difference was that he hadn’t left.

Egan grunted in agreement and tipped his head to Griff, sending another scowl his way. “Griff told us what happened between you two the night Dad was shot. That you landed in bed for comfort sex.”

Rachel snapped toward Griff so fast that her neck popped. She was certain she was scowling at him now.

“I thought they needed to hear what’d happened,” Griff said, his mouth tight. “I wanted them to know that you might have left because of me and not Warren.”

“I left because of both of you,” she snapped. And intended to say a whole lot more to Griff—in private.

Mercy. He had no right to tell her family about that.

“I’m guessing it’s over between Griff and you?” Egan asked.

“Yes.” Rachel snapped that response, too.

And she scowled at Egan when he gave her that big-brother look again. Egan didn’t have to come out and say it, but she felt a mental lecture coming on. One where he would say something about hoping she’d remembered to practice safe sex. She had.

Or rather, Griff had.

They’d used a condom, but with the way her life had been going, she’d taken a pregnancy test two weeks later just in case. It’d been negative. So at least her mistake of sleeping with Griff hadn’t resulted in a pregnancy.

The mental lecture was still going on between Egan and her when the front door opened. Griff, Court and Egan all reacted by drawing their guns. But they all soon holstered them again, Court and Griff making grumbling sounds. Rachel knew the reason for the grumbles.

Their visitor was the district attorney, Brad Gandy.

It was an understatement that Brad and Griff didn’t get along. She was the main reason for that. Brad had always had a thing for her. And Court had been on Griff’s side. In fact, Court was the only McCall who’d ever wanted to see Griff and her together. Of course, that probably didn’t apply now that Court knew Griff had slept with her while keeping Warren’s dirty little secret.

Brad made a beeline to Egan’s office, volleying glances at all of them when he stepped inside. His eyes narrowed a bit when his attention landed on Griff. Griff’s only reaction was to scowl even harder than he already was.

The two men were definitely a huge contrast. Brad, in his pricey gray suit, looked as if he’d just stepped out of the courtroom. Griff was pure cowboy in his jeans and Stetson.

“Rachel,” Brad said on a rise of breath when he’d finished with his glances. “I heard about someone trying to kill you. God, I’m so sorry.” He went straight to her and pulled her into his arms.

She tried not to go stiff. After all, Brad and she had once dated in college, and he’d hugged and kissed her back then. However, it didn’t feel right for that little display of affection to happen in front of her brothers. Or Griff.

Especially Griff.

Rachel silently cursed him. And the blasted attraction. She wished she could make herself immune to him.

Brad eased back, making eye contact with her. Except it wasn’t just mere contact. He was looking at her as if examining her, to make sure she was all right. She wasn’t, but Rachel tried to appear a lot stronger than she felt as she stepped out of his grip.

“How’d you know about the attack?” she asked, and she prayed it wasn’t on the news. Rachel didn’t want her mother to find out that way—or any other way, for that matter.

Brad flinched a little. Maybe because her tone had been so brusque. Or maybe because she hadn’t greeted him with the same enthusiastic hug he’d given her. “I’m friends with the DA in Silver Creek.”

She glanced at Griff, and before she could voice her concern about that, he took out his phone once more. “I’ll make sure no one at the hospital mentions it to your mother.” He stepped outside the office to make the call.

Rachel made a mental note to thank him for that, too. Another mental note to make arrangements to put some distance between Griff and her. She needed to think, and right now, her head wasn’t cooperating. She was dizzy and exhausted, and being around Griff had a way of making her not think straight. The blasted attraction kept getting in the way.

“Are you really okay?” Court asked her.

That’s when Rachel realized she was massaging her right temple. “I’m not about to have a seizure. And I’ve been taking my meds.”

Of course, that didn’t mean a seizure wouldn’t happen, but if it did, there was nothing she could do to stop it now.

“Please tell me you know who tried to murder Rachel,” Brad said to Egan.

Egan lifted his shoulder. “Sorry, my ESP isn’t working so great tonight. But I’ve got a lead, and I’ll question Alma Lawton.”

“Alma!” Brad spat out the name like he would profanity. Maybe some of his tone was due to Egan’s smart-mouthed remark. “Yes, definitely talk to her. She hates every one of you. What kind of lead do you have?” he pressed.

Egan hesitated, as if debating if he would tell him. Brad and he were on the same side of the law, but Rachel figured sometimes it didn’t feel that way. They’d butted heads on several cases over the years. However, Rachel thought the underlying current was because Egan didn’t want her to be with Brad any more than he wanted her to be with Griff.

At the moment, she felt the same way—despite the simmering heat between Griff and her. There was heat, too, when it came to Brad, but it was all one-sided.

“Marlon Stowe,” Egan finally answered. “He’s a guy who might blame Rachel for his girlfriend leaving him. Did the Silver Creek district attorney happen to mention him to you?”

Judging from the way Brad’s mouth tightened, that would be a no. “When are you bringing him in for questioning?”

Egan shrugged. “When I’ve got probable cause, and right now—”

“You’ve got it,” Griff interrupted, stepping back into the room. He looked at Egan and then tipped his head to the laptop on the desk. “First things first. Sheriff Ryland just emailed you the surveillance footage from the bank camera.”

That sent both Court and Egan to the computer. Rachel would have joined them, but it was obvious Griff had something else to say.

“Marlon’s ex-girlfriend from a year ago took out a restraining order against him because he was stalking her,” Griff continued. “Sheriff Ryland said Marlon also hit her, but she wouldn’t press charges against him. There are rumors that he hit his last girlfriend, Taryn Harrison, too. That’s the woman you saw with Marlon while you were staying at the inn.”

Yes, and Marlon blamed her for the breakup. Rachel felt the chill slide through her. Here, she’d left McCall Canyon to escape, and instead she’d crossed paths with a bully. One who might be unhinged if he was indeed into stalking.

Brad turned toward her. “See? This is why you should have never left,” he snapped. “Did that man touch you?”

“No. He just said I should mind my own business.” She stopped, thought of something else. “But the next time we crossed paths, he seemed to know who I was. I mean, I was using an alias. I’d told everyone there at the inn that my name was Margaret O’Malley.”

“Mom’s middle and maiden names,” Court supplied, looking up from the laptop. Egan kept his attention planted firmly on the screen.

She nodded. “I lied and told them I didn’t have any ID because my wallet had been stolen. I used cash to pay for the room.”

“Cash that you withdrew from your bank account right before you left town,” Brad said.

So obviously he’d checked on that. That wasn’t a surprise, not really. They’d probably all been looking for her. It was ironic that Griff had been the one to find her.

“What made you think Marlon knew who you were?” Griff asked.

She almost dismissed it, but that would mean dismissing the knot in her stomach. After what’d happened, it was best if she listened to it.

“When I was paying for my room last week, Marlon was in the office, and he wrote the receipt,” she explained. “He started writing my name with an R, then he quickly scratched it out and wrote ‘Margaret’ instead. I think he’d been about to put down ‘Rachel.’”

Brad made a sound to indicate he was giving that some thought. “Maybe he saw you on the news. After Warren’s shooting,” he clarified.

It was possible, but Griff didn’t look as if he was buying it, either. Good. She wanted him and her brothers to dig into Marlon’s activities and see if there was something to find.

“Hell,” Egan said. “There’s someone on the footage.”

Brad hurried behind the desk to have a look, but Griff stayed right next to her. Egan turned the screen so they could see, and it didn’t take long for her to realize they were looking at the man who’d been in the alley.

A man she instantly recognized.

Oh, God.