“Name it,” Cindy said.
Greer shot a look to the counter, where Locke sat with a soft drink. Looking lonely. Lost. How was all of this going to play out?
* * *
Locke ordered a cherry cola and toyed with the straw paper. He didn’t have much of an appetite and had been more unfocused than usual. He’d given the team’s lunch orders to the guy behind the counter and swiveled back and forth on the stool.
This morning had been a roller coaster ride. His anger had propelled him forward, but once he’d reached the farmhouse and gone inside, he’d turned clammy. His nerves got the best of him. Locke had rarely been around babies. Never even fed one or changed a diaper. So many questions had whipped through his mind. Questions like—what if he wasn’t a good dad? What if Lin didn’t like him? But then she was in his arms, and it was like the storm had been swept up into the sky and the atmosphere became warm and sunny. Locke had looked into his daughter’s eyes and knew right then that there was no storm he wouldn’t brave, no wall he wouldn’t scale, no bullet he wouldn’t take to protect her, to make sure she had everything she ever wanted and deserved.
He’d never experienced anything like it. But what if he failed her later on?
And Greer—Greer had not only named their daughter after their love for storms, but also after Locklin himself. That had undone something in him. Why would she be that considerate but not inform him she’d been pregnant? It didn’t make sense. While it was thoughtful of her, it didn’t make him any less angry at her for betraying him, not giving him his right to be a dad—even if he was destined to be horrible at it.
He’d been cut to the quick.
Now he felt hollow. Still angry. Still unable to forgive her. But confused. He wasn’t sure what the next step was. He only knew he couldn’t walk away from his daughter.
“Greer, did you want that burger well-done?” the cook called from behind the counter. “I can’t ever remember.”
Locke spun around and met Greer’s gaze. Uncertainty. Fear. Dread. It all pulsed there. The last thing he’d ever wanted was for her to fear him, dread him or feel uncertain about him. But they were in uncharted waters.
She didn’t move. Blink.
Locke turned back around. “Medium well. She wants it medium well.” He slipped off the stool and wandered over. Not even sure why. He wanted distance from her. To lick his wounds. But Greer had been like gravity since the day he’d laid eyes on her outside their college classroom. Guess she still had a pull. Even if he didn’t like it.
“Hey,” she murmured.
“Hey.” He looked at the woman and man in the seat across from Greer. White collar met blue collar.
Greer cleared her throat. “This is Michael and Cindy Woolridge. Cindy is the executive director for the chamber of commerce and Michael manages B and P Construction Company.”
Michael shook Locke’s hand. Nice firm grip. “Good to meet you.”
Cindy smiled. “Please, have a seat.”
Greer’s cheeks flamed, but she scooted over, unwilling to make a scene and admit the truth. Doubtful these folks knew he was the baby daddy—the uninformed baby daddy. He clamped down on the fresh wave of anger—of hurt. He quietly sat on the edge of the booth.
“You must be the friend who rescued Greer. Twice. We were telling her how blessed she was to have you nearby,” Cindy said.
Locke gave a tight smile. He wasn’t opposed to faith. Locke had known the joy of giving his heart to God when he was small. But as he became an adult, things weren’t quite so black-and-white.
“You said you wanted a favor. I’m guessing you need us to keep Lin when Tori goes back to work,” Cindy said and added another lemon to her drink.
“Yes, I do.” Greer’s hand trembled and Locke’s first reaction was to grab it and calm her. But before he made contact, he balled his fist and forced it in his lap. He wasn’t her comforter. He wasn’t even sure he was her friend anymore. Though, less than twenty-four hours ago, he’d wanted to be. Friends didn’t betray one another. Friends didn’t keep secrets. Didn’t hide things. Friends could be trusted.
“With these crazy storms, I’m not doing much on-site work. Too wet. Which means I’m on extra Dad duty,” Michael said. “Whatever you need, let us know.”
Greer teared up. “Thank y’all so much. This helps a bunch.”
Looked like this town cared a lot about her. He’d been wondering if she was all alone in this, but he guessed not.
Her phone rang. She answered. “Deputy Montgomery.” Her shoulders tensed. “I’ll be right there.” She hung up. “I have to go. They found another body. Possibly another carnival worker.”
Locke’s heart jumped in his throat. “I thought this was about that Flip guy only. What is going on?”
“I have no idea. More blackmailing? I can’t say until I get over there and know more.”
Greer nudged him to move and let her out of the booth. Part of him wanted to block her. Keep her from going into danger. What if the killer was hiding and tried to attack her when she was on the scene? “How do you know you’ll be safe?”
“It’s daylight. I won’t be the only one there, and I’m a trained officer.”
Locke scooted from the booth and let her out.
“Saturday night okay?” she asked Cindy. “Tori has to be back on duty at the hospital for the night shift.”
“Of course. We’ll bring her to you at church,” Cindy said.
They said their goodbyes and Locke followed her out. “Can I go with you?”
“For what? If you wanted to be a bodyguard, you should have gone to work for your cousin’s private security company.” She huffed and unlocked the door to her patrol car.
“I don’t like that a killer is out there and going on a rampage. One that involves—” his lips pursed and he glanced away “—the mother of my child.”
She slid into her seat and buckled up. “The mother of your child can take care of herself.”
“Didn’t seem that way last night.” Was he trying to pick a fight? Maybe. But it ate at him. He was furious with her and—and scared for her. Not because of Lin. Because it was Greer.
“I have to go.” She didn’t wait for him to step away. She pulled from the curb.
His gut screamed this wasn’t a cut-and-dried carny case. Screamed that Greer was in more danger than she even knew. But she wouldn’t listen to that. Not without proof. He’d just have to watch out for her himself.
How was the question? He had a job to do. He wasn’t here on vacation. The storms wouldn’t hold off for him. His research team members were all cool guys, but they were working on a grant, and if they didn’t produce something they might not get another one, and Locke needed them to get one to keep him in a steady job with steady income, especially now that he knew he had a daughter to provide for.
But presently their safety was his major concern.
The warning in his gut burned like fire. No way he was letting her go to that crime scene without him. Not when he feared trouble was around the bend.
FOUR
Greer pulled up to Southern Comfort tavern and parked at the edge of the lot. A crowd had already gathered like the gray thunderheads above. Another storm brewing.
Greer’s heart had a storm brewing as well. A killer to catch. Trying to stay alive. Relying on others to tend her daughter. Greer was the parent and she missed Lin so much. She already felt guilty for the amount of time she spent working her day job and side jobs, but what choice did she have? If she was going to buy formula, food and diapers then Greer had to work. But the facts didn’t relieve the guilt that half of Lin’s time was spent with someone else caring for her. Now wasn’t the time to cry about it. It wasn’t the time to wonder about what Locke might do or try to do.
Adam met her as she entered the smoky tavern. Just after lunch and not everyone inside was
having a burger. Whispers abounded. “What do we got?”
“I just got here. Talked to Wally.” He pointed to the owner, who was dealing drinks behind the bar. Tired eyes. Friendly smile. “Said he didn’t notice the body this morning when he came in to prep for the lunch crowd. Tyrell found him when he carried out the trash. So, I reckon somewhere between eleven and noon, the guy was killed.”
“Or dumped,” Greer interjected. But why dump a body in a public place?
“Maybe. You know this is the same bar the missing maintenance worker from last night was drinking in. Wally says he could have been here, but it was packed like sardines with people from all over the county here to see the live band. It’s going to be tough to confirm his alibi. We’ll keep asking though.”
Greer could haul in Ray Don, but without witnesses or alibis, they would get nowhere. “Any cameras?”
“Not a one.”
Great. “Let’s look at our victim and see what we see.” She took the lead and went out the side door, where the surrounding area, including the enclosed dumpsters, was cordoned off with crime-scene tape. “I’m on crime-scene photo duty, too.” She handed Adam her kit with the numbered placards to place by any evidence. They donned their booties and latex gloves. Greer pulled her hair into a Jenkins County ball cap. The wind picked up, blowing the scent of rotting garbage and liquor through the air. Greer crinkled her nose.
She worked at taking photos of the actual scene. Tyrell stood off at a distance talking to Deputy Garrison. Greer tiptoed around the back of the large, rusted green Dumpster. The victim was lying faceup. He hadn’t gone easy. Greer kneeled. “His denim jacket is damp. Not from blood.”
“Hasn’t rained this morning,” Adam said.
Wally hadn’t found him because he was hidden. Behind the Dumpster. “I think he was murdered last night. Coroner will be able to tell us more.” Lot of blood. But not enough washed away from the rain that had come in last night. “Anyone call him?”
“Sheriff did. He’s on his way.” Adam kneeled. “Looks like multiple stab wounds.” Like Flip. He winced. “Same knife that killed Flip Bomer?”
“Don’t know.” Greer placed a numbered card on the ground and took several more pics of their vic. “But he’s not local.”
Adam carefully lifted his denim jacket and drew out a wallet. “Timothy Maynard. Thirty-four. Georgia license.”
“Carny?”
“I’m guessing,” Adam said and replaced the wallet. “Unless he has family in the band and he came to visit, but that’s not likely. Let’s talk to Tyrell.”
“After we finish here. I don’t want the new rain washin’ out what we have. Bag his hands and feet.” She’d already taken the photos of the body. “You think he might be in the blackmail business with Flip if he’s a carny?”
“I don’t know,” Adam said. “I’m not sure what in the world is going on at that carnival. Other than some kind of blackmail war.” Adam frowned. “I don’t like you staying home alone, Greer.”
“I’m capable of taking care of myself, but thanks.”
“I worry about you is all.”
“I appreciate it.” A figure caught her eye and she did a double take. “You have got to be kidding me,” she muttered and growled under her breath. Locke was heading straight for the crime scene tape. Straight for her. “Can you finish up here? I have all the photos we need.”
Adam followed her line of sight. “Out-of-town friend?” His voice was a bit stern. But then Adam was protective of Greer. Might as well be honest. Adam already knew—it was in his eyes. There was no hiding it, not when Lin looked exactly like Locke.
“He’s Lin’s father. He’s here for a week.”
“Yeah, well where was the deadbeat when you were having her? When you were taking job number two and three?” Ice laced his voice. He wasn’t being fair, but only because he didn’t know that Greer had kept Lin a secret.
“It’s complicated.”
She ignored his grunt and strode to the edge of the scene, then slipped under the tape. “What are you doing here? Because last I checked, you ordered lunch already and you don’t drink.”
“Maybe I started,” he returned with a whole lot of smart aleck in his voice.
“Ha-ha. Seriously, why are you here?”
“I was worried, okay? Sue me.”
Greer sighed, unsure how she felt. The fact he was here keeping silent guard slid into fear-laden places and brought solace, but it had nothing to do with Greer and everything to do with Lin. With keeping the mother of his child safe. Still honorable. Still stung, if only slightly.
“Well, I’m fine. Doing my job. And I’m not alone.” She pointed at Adam, who was now talking to Tyrell, but she felt his eyes on her. Or someone’s eyes. Suddenly, her skin turned cold, leaving goose bumps. Maybe Greer wasn’t as alone as she thought.
“What is it?” Locke asked.
“Nothing.” She shrugged off the eerie notion that the killer was present. Lurking. “We have enough spectators, Locke. Go back to work. Storm’s coming in a few hours. Maybe sooner.”
He smirked.
It messed with her heart’s equilibrium. Of course, he’d know a storm was coming. It amused him, she knew. There wasn’t anything he’d taught her that she’d forgotten. Including his stubbornness, which was off the charts and only equal to his insane impulsiveness. “I have to go back to work.” She stalked back to Adam, who was interviewing Tyrell.
“I usually smoke behind the trash Dumpsters, but I’m telling you I think that sight scared the nicotine out of me for good, you know?” Tyrell said.
“I hear ya,” Adam replied. “So, Timothy was here last night?”
“Drinking on the stool ’til way after midnight.”
Adam turned to Greer. “Do we have a picture of Ray Don to show him?”
“I don’t think so.” Her phone rang. She answered. “Jimmy?” Why was the dispatcher calling?
“Hey, Greer. We got a 911 call from your neighbor, Ms. Hatter. She said someone broke into your house. She saw him. Thought I’d call you first.”
Again? “Is he in there now?”
“She said he ran.”
“I’m on my way!” Greer hit the end button. “Someone was in my home. I gotta go.”
“I can come with you.”
“You’re better off finishing up here.” Locke hadn’t left and would no doubt insert himself into the situation.
“And if he comes back?”
No doubt, at some point he would. “I’ll be okay.” She jogged under the tape and Locke came up beside her.
“Greer, what happened?” Locke’s concern was loud, intense.
“Intruder was in the house. I’m on my way there.”
“Why don’t you ride with me? We can come back for your car later.”
“No. I’m on duty. I have my patrol car.” She could speed. Get there faster.
“Well, I’m following you back to the house. End of story. I told you this guy wasn’t going to stop. I knew in my gut something was wrong.” In his tropical blue eyes, she saw fear. Something she’d never seen there before but it was easily identifiable.
She flipped on her lights and raced home with Locke right behind.
Ms. Hatter paced her front yard. Greer thanked God that she hadn’t been harmed.
It started to sprinkle.
“Greer! Oh, sweet Greer!” she called as she hobbled over and they went underneath the porch to stay dry. “I was so scared. I came by to bring you a cake, and when I knocked on the door I saw him.”
“What did he look like?”
Ms. Hatter clutched her chest. “He had on a black jacket with a hood and a ski mask. I thought I was dead, I did. He ran through the living room and out your patio door when I screamed. I ran back to my house and called the police.”
“I’m re
lieved he didn’t hurt you, Ms. Hatter. I’m so sorry.” What if he had hurt her? Stabbed her? Sweet Ms. Hatter was always kind and willing to keep Lin, but she had Parkinson’s and wasn’t able to hold Lin for long periods of time. Instead, she brought over many meals and little happies for Lin. Bless her heart.
“Don’t you be sorry, hon.” She hugged her tight. “I’ll keep praying for you.”
“Thank you.” Greer unlocked the front door and entered the house. The kitchen was intact. The living room had been turned upside down, but not destroyed. What was he after?
“Greer,” Locke said, standing frozen in the living room. “If he was trying to silence you for witnessing a murder, then why would he come here and toss this place?”
Greer wondered the same thing. A cold finger slid up her back. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe he thinks you took Flip’s blackmail stash.”
“I’d put that into evidence. At the station.”
Locke nodded and traipsed to the corner where her desk was. He’d really destroyed that area. “Greer, did you take your laptop to work with you this morning?”
“No.” Dread pooled in her gut as she surveyed her desk. The drawers had all been emptied, the top of it ransacked.
“It’s gone. Check and see if anything else is, too.”
Greer rummaged through her desk and drawers. “My photo-editing software I downloaded to the computer is gone.”
“Why would he steal that?”
Good question. Greer had no clue.
* * *
A slash of lightning bolted across the front windows of Greer’s house. Thunder rumbled. Rain pounded the roof as if demanding it open up. Only the middle of the afternoon, but the house was shadowy and Greer stood with trembling hands. Locke wanted to steady them in his, but he was still angry with her for hiding a baby from him. Fear was running a close second to anger. He’d had little time to process any of this with the attacks and having to monitor storms.
But underneath all the anger and fear, a resolve rose. No one was going to lay a hand on one single hair of Greer’s head.
Killer Exposure Page 5