Finger On The Trigger. Delores Fossen
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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