by Cynthia Eden
Grant swore, and she knew that he’d caught sight of that little glint. A reflection of the light off something.
Someone.
“Sullivan.” Grant’s voice snapped with command.
“Already on it.” His brother was moving fast.
So was Grant.
Scarlett scrambled to keep up with them.
* * *
THEY’D SEEN HIM.
He jumped back, grabbing for his phone and the binoculars. His truck waited nearby, the accelerants still in the back. Or what was left of them.
The McGuires were running toward his hiding spot, and he cranked the truck’s engine as fast as he could. Now wasn’t the time for them to catch him. He was supposed to be watching them, not the other way around.
I’m not the one you hunt.
He was supposed to stay, supposed to watch Scarlett.
But they were nearly on top of him. He slammed his foot down on the gas pedal and the truck fishtailed as he lurched down a dirt road and away.
* * *
DUST SHOT INTO the air. The pickup truck heaved off with a roar of its engine.
The guy thought he was getting away? Think again. Grant yanked out his phone. “Davis...” He knew his brother was close. “Block the south-side perimeter of the property. Stop the pickup coming your way—stop him!”
Davis and Brodie would have only moments before that truck came barreling at them, but Grant knew they’d act fast. He spun back around and nearly ran into Scarlett.
He’d been so consumed by fury that he hadn’t searched the scene. Scarlett had and because of her...we’ve got this guy.
He caught her hand and they ran back to his SUV, then jumped inside. Sullivan was already in his car, rushing away. Adrenaline pumped in Grant’s blood as he floored his vehicle and gave chase.
Scarlett’s hand slapped against the dashboard as they accelerated. He kept seeing the flames. What if she’d been in that house? What if she’d been trapped in there?
He drove even faster.
He swerved around the corner, following right behind Sullivan. Faster, faster.
Then he saw the makeshift roadblock up ahead. Brodie and Davis had covered that south side, all right. They’d blocked the narrow dirt road with their vehicle. And they were both standing outside of it, their guns pointed at the truck, which had just come to a jarring halt.
Grant slammed on his brakes, too.
Up ahead, Sullivan jumped out of his car.
“Stay here,” Grant told Scarlett, and he grabbed his gun from the glove compartment.
“You’re kidding, right?” She leaped out of the SUV. “Not after what he’s done!”
Grant rushed around the vehicle, grabbed her and put her behind him. Did the woman even realize she wasn’t armed? Fury was fine, but it wouldn’t stop a man ready to attack with a gun.
The truck’s interior was dark. The guy inside hadn’t moved.
“Call Detective Townsend,” Grant told Scarlett. Then he raised his voice and shouted, “Come out!” He kept his weapon aimed at the vehicle.
There was no escape for the man inside. Sullivan had taken up a position near the driver’s side door, his weapon pointed. Davis and Brodie were in cover position, too, and Grant suspected they were just looking for a reason to attack.
“Come out,” he shouted again. “Come out or—”
The door opened, and the squeak of it seemed so loud in the darkness.
The fire was still burning. The scent stung Grant’s nose and had his jaw clenching. “Put your hands up!” he ordered. “Get out now.”
Behind him, Grant heard Scarlett talking on the phone to Detective Townsend. He was sure Shayne would burn rubber getting out here.
As for the man in that truck...
His hands appeared first. Shaking. First the left hand, then the right, showing that he wasn’t armed.
None of the McGuires relaxed their positions. Not even for a second.
Then the guy’s foot appeared, some fancy, ridiculous shoe.
“Step away from the truck,” Grant ordered, “then turn and face me.”
Slowly, the man complied. He inched away from the truck and turned...
“Justin?” Scarlett’s voice was stunned.
His head jerked toward her.
And that was when Grant saw the gun, tucked into Justin Turner’s belt.
“Get back, Scarlett,” Grant told her. “Get back to the SUV.”
She started inching back.
And Justin began to advance.
“Stop!” Grant barked at him. “Don’t take another step!”
The man didn’t stop. “I’m going to lose it all, lose everything now.”
Sullivan was creeping toward him.
“Yeah, well, maybe you should have thought of that before you torched my house.” Grant could even see the empty gas cans in the back of the truck. “Now freeze or I will shoot you.”
Justin stopped. He wasn’t looking at Grant, but at Scarlett as she slid back. “You told my brother to cut me off,” he accused.
“No, no, I didn’t—”
“How was I supposed to live, if he wasn’t helping? And I just needed the help a little while longer.” His hand dropped and rubbed against his leg, far too close to that gun for Grant’s peace of mind.
“Sullivan.” Grant’s voice ripped with warning. This wasn’t going well. They needed to get that weapon away from the guy.
“But Eric wasn’t helping anymore. Because of you.” Justin’s tone became harder. “He wanted to make you happy. To do anything for you, and you didn’t even love him!”
Scarlett had stilled, and that was actually good. Because Grant was afraid that if she ran, Justin would reach for his gun.
“I never told him anything about you,” she said, her voice soft. “Never. I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“I’m losing everything! No job, no house...all my debts are being called in. I’m done, because of you and Eric! Freaking perfect Eric!”
Sirens wailed in the distance.
At the sound, Justin’s hand flew up and he grabbed the gun from his belt. He yanked it out and aimed—
At Scarlett.
Grant didn’t hesitate. His finger squeezed the trigger of his own weapon and he fired.
His bullet hit its mark as Justin stumbled—and just as another bullet blasted into him.
The second hit had Justin falling to his knees.
Chapter Nine
“Sometimes a man loses his grasp on sanity, and he goes too far...” Detective Townsend turned his head and watched as Justin Turner was loaded into the back of an ambulance. “Or at least, that’s probably the spin his lawyer will give on what went down here tonight.” Bitterness entered his voice. “Won’t be the first time I’ve seen an insanity plea. Won’t be the last, either.”
Scarlett rubbed her arms. The cops had swarmed in, but they hadn’t appeared soon enough. Grant had shot Justin, and Sullivan had fired seconds later. Grant’s bullet had sank into the man’s right shoulder, and Sully’s had slammed into his side.
Neither shot had been fatal. Justin would live to stand trial.
Like I almost did.
“All the accelerants are right there,” Shayne said as he inclined his head toward the abandoned truck. “Guess he thought he could get away clean from the scene and then destroy all the evidence of his crime.”
“He thought wrong,” Grant said grimly.
Grant had been too controlled, too quiet, since the shooting. His emotions were on lockdown, Scarlett could tell, and she kept casting nervous glances his way.
“I’m sending men to Turner’s house now. They’ll do a thorough search. There could be more evi
dence there for us to use—”
“Do you think he killed Eric?” Scarlett asked. She kept replaying Justin’s last words to her. Money...yes, money could definitely be a motive for murder.
“He was the one who kept pushing so hard for your prosecution,” Shayne said. He exhaled a rough sigh. “Called the captain every day. Was always talking to the reporters, and now with this mess tonight...” The detective’s words trailed away. “Let’s just see what we find.” He hesitated. “But if I were a betting man, I’d say we have our killer.”
The clench in her gut told Scarlett he was right. All the pieces in this twisted puzzle were finally falling into place. She looked to the left, her gaze helplessly returning to Grant. His eyes were on the ambulance.
“A guard will stay with him?” he demanded.
“At all times,” Shayne assured him.
Scarlett’s shoulders slumped. “It’s over.”
Grant’s head turned toward her.
“He practically confessed, Grant,” she whispered. “Right in front of us all.” The scent of ash drifted into the air. His house. “We’re safe now. It’s over.”
But Grant shook his head.
She reached out to him. It was strange. He was right in front of her, but it felt as if he were a thousand miles away. Even when she touched him, Scarlett still had the strange feeling that he wasn’t there. Not really. “Grant?” Concern laced her voice.
“I’ll want to talk with him,” Grant said flatly, his attention back on Justin and that ambulance. “As soon as he’s awake.”
Because Justin hadn’t been conscious when he’d been loaded into the ambulance. The EMTs had been working on him, but he’d been out cold.
“After I get my crack at him,” Shayne said, “I’ll see what I can do.” He inclined his head toward them. “I’ll need statements from you both. We’ll get the preliminaries down tonight then you can come by the station tomorrow for follow-up.”
The station...her home away from home.
Grant’s home is gone.
When Shayne walked away, Scarlett tightened her hold on Grant. “I’m so sorry about your house.”
He shook his head. “Bricks and wood. It didn’t matter.” His eyes seemed to blaze—a green fire. “You matter.” Then his hands were up and holding tight to her. “He was going to shoot you, you know that? Kill you. Right in front of me.”
She would never forget the moment when that gun had turned on her.
“What the hell would I have done then?” Grant demanded.
Before she could answer, one of the cops called out to him. Time for his statement. Right. With a curse, Grant pulled from her. Scarlett stood there, chill bumps rising on her arms.
Then she felt a whisper of air against her, a slight rustle. She turned, and Davis was at her side.
Davis had always been able to move so silently, like a predator, long before he’d honed his skills as a SEAL.
“That was too close,” he murmured, his voice pitched low, to carry only to her ears.
“I didn’t expect him to have a gun.” Eric had been attacked with a knife. So had Louis. And when the killer broke into her place, he’d been armed with a knife then, too. Never a gun.
“Always expect people to go out fighting. The instinct for survival is too strong.”
She glanced back over at Grant. She had to do it. It just seemed as if she needed to watch him. Why do I feel like he’s pulling away from me?
“But I wasn’t talking about that jerk pulling his weapon. I was talking about just how close Grant came to killing him.”
Her chill bumps got worse.
“Grant is a damn fine shot. One of the best I’ve ever seen.”
Scarlett tried to take slow, deep breaths.
“In a situation like that...we’ve all been trained to respond instinctively. If someone is pointing a gun at you, you stop that perp. You take him out.”
She couldn’t take her eyes off Grant. “Grant shot him in the shoulder,” she whispered.
“Only because Justin tripped at the last second.”
And she remembered the way he had stumbled. A little stagger that had hunched and twisted his body.
“Sometimes, men come to important realizations in this life. I’m guessing Grant just realized something very, very important.”
She shook her head. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear more.
“He already realized he’d kill for his country. For his family. Now Grant knows that he’d kill for you, without any hesitation whatsoever.”
Scarlett backed away from him.
“He was aiming for the guy’s heart.” Davis sounded absolutely certain.
“You can’t know that.”
“Sure I do. It’s where I would have aimed, too.” His head tilted as he studied her. “And now you know...”
She knew the world had gone crazy around her.
“...that man would kill to keep you safe.” He paused. “And what would you do for him?”
Scarlett backed away from Davis’s intense stare. She went straight to Grant and stared up at him.
But couldn’t bring herself to ask...
Were you killing him, for me?
So she stood by his side—inches apart, but miles away.
* * *
THEY WENT BACK to the ranch. Grant was dead silent on the trip, and Scarlett didn’t have any words to say, either. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally, and she just wanted to crash.
My home is still a crime scene. So going there hadn’t been an option. And Grant’s place was still smoldering.
So they’d followed the others back to the McGuire ranch.
But when they braked in front of the sprawling spread, Grant didn’t move. He didn’t turn off the engine. Didn’t take his hands from the steering wheel.
“Grant?” She almost touched him, but there was a...coldness to him then. Her chill was already bad enough, so she flattened her hands on her lap.
Hours ago, we made love on that bluff. Now there was a stone wall between them.
It was easy enough for a killer to wreck happiness.
“We don’t have to go inside,” she rushed to say. She knew this place held too many ghosts for him. “We can go back and find a motel room someplace. We can—”
“The reporters will swarm when Justin’s arrest hits the news. This is the best place for us.” Finally, he killed the SUV’s ignition. “We can stay in the guesthouse out back. We don’t have to go in the main house.”
Her breath left her in a relieved rush. Good. He wouldn’t have to face off against the ghosts in there.
“Ava won’t ever stay in the main house,” Grant murmured. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “She can’t go inside without shaking.”
His pain was palpable, so despite the cold, Scarlett reached out and touched him.
He flinched. “You should be careful with me tonight.”
Her hand stayed on his. “Why?”
“Because my control is gone.” His head turned toward her. In the dark, he was a dangerous shadow. “He was going to kill you. Right in front of me. He was going to kill you!”
She unhooked her seat belt and leaned toward Grant. Her hands curled around his neck. “I’m fine. We’re both fine. And he’s not going to hurt us ever again.” His muscles were harder than rock beneath her, and he wasn’t holding her. She needed him to. Scarlett kissed his jaw. The stubble rasped over her lips. “We’re safe now.”
“Are you so sure?”
She pulled back, just enough to try and see his face. Faint light from the main house spilled into the SUV. She heard doors slamming.
Brodie and Davis.
She glanced out the windshield. The twins were heading into th
e house, giving her and Grant privacy.
“It’s over,” she said once more, as if saying it enough would make the words true. She wanted it to be over. “It’s time for life to get back to normal.” Scarlett slipped from his SUV. Once outside, she tipped back her head and stared up at the star-filled sky. Away from the bright lights of Austin, the sky was amazing. A million stars that went on forever.
Grant’s door slammed, too. His footsteps crunched over the dirt and gravel as he headed toward her. Slowly, her gaze slid away from the stars and toward the bluff. Had she really made love with him there, hours before? It seemed so long ago.
He caught her hand. Together, they headed for the guesthouse. Why did being with him feel so natural?
Easy.
But nothing in life was ever really easy.
He unlocked the door and led her inside. She flipped on the light and padded around the place, admiring the gleaming wooden table and chairs. The matching desk. The rocking chair. “Brodie’s work, right?” Because she remembered the way he’d been as a teen. Always carving or working in his shop.
Grant shut the door. Leaned back against it. “Yes.”
Her fingers trailed over the rocking chair. Brodie had always been gifted. She glanced up and found Grant’s eyes on her. When she saw the heat in his stare, her fingers stilled, locking on the wood. “Grant?”
He stepped toward her. “I’m not usually scared.”
She shook her head.
“I don’t get scared in battle. I’m doing my job. My teammates count on me. There’s no room for fear then.”
Another step.
“I wasn’t afraid when I learned about my parents’ murder. I was furious.”
She pulled in a desperate gulp of air. His eyes...
“But I was afraid tonight, when Justin tried to shoot you.” Grant stopped in front of her. “I was afraid I’d lose you.”
Scarlett stared up at him.
“I don’t want to lose you. I lived without you for ten years. I don’t want to lose you.” Then he was reaching for her. One hand slid beneath the fall of her hair. The other caught her around the waist and pulled her against him.
He kissed her. Kissed her with a ferocious hunger and the wild desire that always seemed to be there, rushing between them.