by Delores Fossen, Rachel Lee, Carol Ericson, Tyler Anne Snell, Rita Herron
Then he’d thought he owned her.
When she’d finally balked at his possessiveness, his true colors had surfaced.
Griff shaded his eyes with one hand and scanned the street, and she ducked low in the seat. Had he noticed her?
She held her breath for a minute, then raised her head just enough to glance through the window. He was gone.
Pulse hammering, she gripped the steering wheel and scanned the sidewalk. Where was he? Not in the road, not crossing to her.
A shadow of movement caught her eye, and she spotted him several hundred feet away.
His hands were jammed in the pockets of his leather bomber jacket, his posture tense. When he reached a black pickup truck, he climbed in, started the engine and backed from the parking space.
Ginny started her car and veered from the parking lot, then drove slowly, remaining a car length behind, hoping he wouldn’t spot her on his tail.
* * *
GRIFF’S MIND REPLAYED his relationship with Joy as he headed back toward his place. She’d been sweet at first, had been friendly at the town council business meeting. She’d just moved to Whistler and was excited about opening her salon. Said she was divorced and starting fresh.
She’d seemed intelligent, independent and was easy on the eyes. He’d taken her to dinner one night and they’d had a few drinks, then she’d asked him back to her apartment. Coming off several days of work, and at the time frustrated with no leads in the hospital fire as he faced the impending anniversary of his father’s death, he’d been feeling down and...lonely. Having a pretty woman come on to him had been flattering, and he’d climbed in her bed.
They’d gotten together a couple more times, but soon he’d sensed she wasn’t the woman she pretended to be. Then he’d discovered she was still married, and he’d called it quits immediately.
He didn’t fool around with married women. And he didn’t tolerate lies.
She was both married and a liar.
He swung onto the road leading toward the town square. Maybe he’d ask around town for word about Joy’s love life. Perhaps she’d used someone else as she had him, and that man hadn’t taken it well. He could always check the bar she frequented.
He glanced in his rearview mirror and frowned. Two cars back, he spotted Ginny Bagwell’s little black sedan. Was she following him?
Curious, he made a sharp right turn and sped up, checking the mirror again. She turned and accelerated. If she was following him, she was a damn amateur. Irritated that she thought he wouldn’t notice, he drove a couple more miles, then made another turn. She was close behind.
Why the hell was she so determined to talk to him? If she wanted information about Joy’s murder, she should go straight to Jacob instead of him.
That baffled him. So did the fact that she’d asked specifically about Joy’s death.
Deciding he’d had enough deception to last a lifetime, he swung into a parking spot in front of town hall. She parked two cars down.
Griff slid from his truck and stalked toward her. When he reached the sedan, he rapped on the window. She hit the automatic button to lower it, then looked up at him with a doe-like expression.
“Griff, funny we meet again,” she said feigning surprise as if this was a coincidence.
“It’s not funny at all,” he growled. “I made you way back there.” He folded his arms and glared down at her. “Now, why in the hell are you following me?”
She lifted her chin. “I told you I want a story. I texted you and asked about Joy Norris’s COD, but you didn’t answer. Was she strangled?”
The sense that she was hiding something intensified. “Why don’t you go to the sheriff? Why ask me?”
“Was she strangled?” A hint of desperation laced her tone that roused his curiosity even more.
“Yes,” Griff said. “How did you know?”
Her face paled, but she squared her shoulders. “I didn’t. It was just a guess.”
Griff studied her. Something about her was off...
He leaned against the window, his gaze meeting hers with a warning look. “Listen to me. If you know something about Joy’s murder, you’d better come clean. Right now, all we have is her ex. If he’s innocent, we’ve got nothing.”
She jerked her gaze from his and stared at her hands which were clenching the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip. “I... I’m here researching a story,” she said again. “I didn’t even know Joy.”
Maybe so. But she was holding back something.
“If you’re scared or something else is going on, I’ll go with you to talk to my brother,” he offered.
She clamped her teeth over her bottom lip and shook her head. “I have to go. Sorry for disturbing you.”
“Just tell me—”
“I won’t bother you again. I’ll get the information on my own.” The window slid up, then she started the engine, backed from the space and drove away.
Just what the hell was she planning? A single woman asking questions about a murder could be dangerous. Didn’t she know that?
Chapter Five
Ginny silently chided herself as she drove away. She couldn’t allow another man to intimidate her. But Griff Maverick had done just that.
She would just have to do what she’d said. Investigate on her own. Find another way to determine if Joy had been dating Robert.
After deciding to start by chatting up Mitzi at the café, she drove to the quaint little spot, parked and scanned the property before she went inside. Just because she didn’t see Robert didn’t mean he wasn’t lurking around.
Watching her. Trying to unnerve her.
He’d done that before when she’d first left him. When his more subtle pleas and promises to win her back had failed, he’d started stalking her. Showing up in random places. Outside the coffee shop she liked to go to in the mornings. At the library when she’d decided to study and go back to college. At the restaurant where she’d worked part-time to pay for the room she’d rented in the rear.
Sometimes he’d simply sit and watch. Other times he’d leave her notes, reminding her that she was his. Twice she’d gone back to the apartment and realized he’d been inside.
He’d left a gift for her on the bed. Flowers. Perfume. A silk teddy he wanted her to wear.
That same cloying cologne he wore had lingered in the air, suffocating and nauseating.
She inhaled to ward off her nerves and entered the café. The scent of coffee and apple pie wafted toward her. Mitzi stood behind the counter pouring coffee into two mugs for an elderly man and woman. The couple carried the mugs to a corner table and huddled together as if they were newlyweds.
Ginny’s heart gave a pang. At one time she’d dreamed of love and happily-ever-after. Then Tess had been taken from her. Tess who would never have a chance to love or be loved or hold her own baby in her arms. Tess whose art brightened the world. A world now void of color without her in it.
Ginny slid onto the bar stool and forced a friendly smile toward Mitzi. The young woman’s blond hair accentuated her narrow face and was twisted into a claw clip on top of her head. She was probably midtwenties, looked friendly and easygoing as she managed the various orders tossed at her.
“What can I get you?” Mitzi asked as she handed off a cappuccino to the waitress to deliver to another table.
“Just plain coffee,” Ginny said. Her stomach couldn’t handle anything richer today, not after the scent of that cologne.
Mitzi arched a brow in question as she slid a steaming mug toward her. “You’re the woman who was here with Griff earlier, aren’t you?”
Ginny drizzled honey into her coffee. “Yes, I’m an investigative journalist researching a story on arsonists. I heard about the fire at the nail salon and was hoping he could add some insight.”
Mitzi rearranged the condiments on
the bar. “Then you’re not from around here?”
“No, and I don’t intend to stay,” Ginny said, deciding to let the woman know she wasn’t a threat in case Mitzi was interested in Griff. “I’ll be leaving as soon as I finish my story.” She stirred her coffee. “By the way, did you know the owner of the salon?”
Mitzi’s lips pinched into a frown, and she propped her elbows on the bar. At this time of the day, the place was virtually empty. Still, Mitzi spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “We met, but I didn’t think much of her. I heard she’d used Griff and that she went through men like some women change their shoes.”
“Really?” Ginny absorbed that tidbit. “Do you recall seeing her with anyone specific?”
Mitzi twisted her mouth in thought. “A couple of times she came in with this really handsome fellow. Said he was an investment banker who helped her secure the loan for her salon.”
“What did he look like?” Ginny asked.
“Late thirties, brown hair, neatly trimmed, well dressed. He seemed really flirty with her, so I wondered if there was more to their relationship than business.”
“Do you recall his name?”
Mitzi shook her head “No, don’t think she ever mentioned it.”
“Was there anyone else?”
“I don’t really remember, but I’ve only been here a few months. I had the impression Joy liked the nightlife though. Dancing and clubs and bars, you know that sort of thing.”
“I do know.” Ginny shivered. Robert had similar interests. And he preferred expensive restaurants.
None of it had been her scene though.
The bells over the door jingled as a group of women entered, and Mitzi waved at them.
“I gotta talk to those ladies. They want to plan a private women’s luncheon here, and I can use all the business I can get.”
Ginny offered her a smile. Under different circumstances, she and Mitzi might be friends.
“If you think of anything else, call me.” Ginny pushed a business card into Mitzi’s hand.
“Sure thing. Good luck with your story.”
Ginny’s phone dinged as Mitzi maneuvered around the corner of the bar to greet the women.
She pulled her cell from her pocket and checked the text. She had a message from the dating site Meet Your Mate. Rather, June Embers had a message.
A man named Karl Cross requested a date. She checked the man’s profile in search of a photograph, but the one that was posted was taken from a distance and in shadows so she couldn’t distinguish the man’s face.
He looked to be about Robert’s height. He was also dressed in a tailored suit, said he liked nice restaurants, fine wine and strong women.
All the things Robert had first said. All were true, too, except the part about the strong women. He wanted meek and docile. One he could control. Who’d do what he said, pleasure him and bow down to his every wish and order.
Her gut instinct told her that Karl Cross could be Robert. The only way to know was to meet him in person.
Nerves bunched in her stomach as she responded that she’d meet him at the bar called Whistler’s Nightcap at seven.
* * *
GRIFF GRIMACED AS he walked to the sheriff’s office. He hadn’t handled the encounter with Ginny very well. But he didn’t intend to allow another woman to use him—or fall for her lies.
Still, he felt bad for coming on so strong. She’d looked frightened, and he’d been raised better. His father would have given him a good talking to for his terse tone.
Why had he been so angry?
Because she’s pretty and tempting and you want to trust her, but you don’t.
Thunder rumbled, dark storm clouds gathering, rain on its way. He glanced back to where Ginny was parked. But she was gone.
Maybe she’d give up the story and leave town. Unless his instincts were right, and she was here for more than a story.
The wind battered the thin windowpanes as he entered Jacob’s office. “I need to see Jacob,” he told the receptionist.
“He’s interrogating Wayne Norris at the moment.”
“I’ll wait in his office.” Griff bypassed the deputy who was on the phone, then strode through the double doors and down the hall to his brother’s office. Jacob’s desk was a mess, but Griff noticed a grainy photo on the side of his computer. He leaned closer to see what it was, and realized it was a sonogram of Jacob and Cora’s unborn baby.
A smile tugged at his lips. The Maverick family was growing. Odd that he hadn’t pictured any of them married and now the longing for someone to fill his lonely nights with niggled at him.
Ginny’s face teased at his mind.
Do not go there.
While he waited for Jacob, he seated himself and decided to dig deeper into Ginny. The fact that she was still here roused his curiosity even more.
He should have googled her before now but figured she’d be gone in a day and forgotten. But he plugged her name in and found two Virginia Bagwells. One was seventy-five and owned a pet store for cats in Maine. The other was deceased.
Next he entered the words journalist and investigative reporter and spent the next half hour researching various publications and articles but found no byline for a Virginia or Ginny Bagwell.
She said she was trying to break in to a TV network, so he researched those as well, but if she’d had any experience in the media, he couldn’t find it.
Footsteps sounded behind him, and he glanced up and saw Jacob in the doorway.
“What are you doing?” Jacob asked.
Griff stood. “Ginny followed me from the morgue,” he said. “I think she may know something about Joy’s murder.”
“Really?”
“Something’s definitely off about her. She claims to be researching a story on arsonists and saw the news on TV, but she’s been asking questions about Joy, how she died, if she was strangled.”
Jacob’s brows shot up. “She specifically asked about strangulation?”
Griff nodded. “Since you haven’t released that detail, it made me wonder if the murder was what brought her to Whistler.”
Jacob gestured toward the computer. “So, you were researching her?”
“I was, but so far she’s a mystery. I can’t find anything about a Ginny or Virginia Bagwell. It also struck me as odd that she came to me, and not you.”
Jacob worked his mouth from side to side in thought. “Could be she’s just a nosy journalist or that she’s hiding something. Either way, it’s worth looking into. I’ll have Liam see what he can dig up.” Jacob folded his arms. “Meanwhile maybe you should keep an eye on her.”
Griff’s stomach tightened. “I guess I could do that.” He would just have to remain objective. “How’d it go with Wayne? Do you think he killed Joy?”
Jacob shook his head. “I don’t like the bastard, but the creep has an alibi.”
“He could have hired someone,” Griff suggested.
“That’s a possibility. My deputy is looking into his financials to see if he was in trouble or if he withdrew a significant amount of money lately, money he could have used for that purpose.”
“How about insurance?”
“Joy’s business was doing well. No major financial problems. Wayne was not a beneficiary on her insurance. She removed him from the policy when she filed for divorce. He also had no claims to the business.”
“Maybe he was angry she cut him out.”
“Could be,” Jacob said. “But I have to start considering other persons of interest. I’m on my way to talk to Riley Thornton, the receptionist at the salon. Maybe she knows more about Joy’s personal life.”
“Tonight, I’ll drop by the bar where Joy and I went,” Griff offered. “Maybe the bartender saw her with someone else.”
“Good idea. I’ll meet you,” Jacob of
fered.
Griff shook his head. “Let me go alone. Bartender might freeze up when he sees a uniform.” Griff pointed to the ultrasound picture. “Besides, you have a family to go home to. How’s Cora feeling?”
“Tired, but excited,” Jacob said with a grin. “Nina’s ecstatic about having a little brother or sister.”
“I’m happy for you, brother.” Griff suddenly felt antsy to leave. “Let me know what Liam uncovers about Ginny.”
They agreed to stay in touch, and Griff left the office. Outside a few raindrops had started to fall, the clouds growing darker by the minute. He headed back to his truck, then decided to track down Ginny again.
Maybe she was back at the inn? He climbed in his truck, then drove past Mitzi’s. Ginny’s little sedan was there.
But she hurried out just as he neared the parking lot. He slowed and watched to see where she was going, his pulse hammering as he noticed her checking over her shoulder as she walked. She passed the mercantile and arts-and-crafts store, scanned the street as she walked. At one point, she ducked beneath an awning, then peered around the corner as if looking for someone.
Or...as if she thought someone was following her.
What—or who—was she running from?
* * *
GINNY MADE HER way along the storefronts until she spotted the smoky ashes of Joy’s Nail Salon, or what was left of it, which was a charred rubble of ash and burned materials. A cleanup crew had yet to clear the mess which seemed like a massive endeavor. Crime-scene tape flapping in the wind still cordoned off the area.
The businesses along the street nearest the salon included a barber shop, boutique, pet-grooming spa, novelty-and-gift store and a henna tattoo parlor.
Joy might have met a love interest from the barber shop. A frisson of nerves hit her as she entered the all-male establishment. The scent of aftershave and men’s salon products wafted around her. Three chairs faced mirrors with barbers busy at work at their stations.
She offered the young man behind the desk a smile. He was probably early twenties, and sported a ponytail and a diamond stud in his left ear. She introduced herself as a journalist and asked if he’d known Joy.