“I was hoping you’d talk to Taryn,” Marlon finally said. “I want you to tell her to come back to me. I figure that won’t be hard for you to do since you’re the one who talked her into leaving me.” There was plenty of bitterness in his voice.
Rachel shook her head. “I didn’t talk Taryn into anything. I just listened to her while she cried on my shoulder.”
Marlon’s suddenly narrowed eyes told Griff that the man didn’t believe that. Well, tough. Even if Rachel had managed to sway Taryn, that was probably the best thing that could have happened, considering what had gone on in Marlon’s other relationship.
Griff huffed, put his hands on his hips and glared at the man. “You’d better not have come here to coerce Rachel in exchange for possible evidence in a murder investigation. Because if so, you’ll go to jail. I’ll personally see to it.”
And the stare-down started. It didn’t last long, though, because Marlon must have seen that Griff wasn’t bluffing. No way was he letting this clown out of here before he told them what he knew.
“Fine,” Marlon finally said, “but I’ll need a table for my laptop so I can show you the photos.”
Photos. Well, hell.
That certainly sounded like some kind of legit evidence, so maybe this wasn’t just a ploy for Marlon to get back at Rachel for “interfering” in his relationship with Taryn. Griff only hoped it wasn’t evidence against Warren. Even though Rachel and her dad were on the outs, it wouldn’t help her mental state if Egan had to arrest the man for attempted murder. Or worse—murder. After all, there was a dead man in this, Dennis, and even though he was connected to Simon, it didn’t mean he didn’t have a connection to Warren, too.
Since Egan was still in the interview room with Alma, Griff motioned for Marlon to follow Rachel and him to Egan’s office. Griff knew that Egan wouldn’t mind, but it did make him feel uneasy when Marlon took the time to study the family pictures Egan had on his desk, wall and filing cabinet. Some were of their parents, others of Rachel and Court. Another was of Egan’s late fiancée.
“Shanna Sullivan,” Marlon muttered, when his attention landed on the fiancée’s picture.
Rachel had obviously already been creeped out by this guy, but that had her snapping back her shoulders. “How do you know Shanna?” she asked. Except it wasn’t just a simple question. It was a demand.
“Her murder was all over the news.” If Marlon was the least bit concerned with Rachel’s sharp tone, he didn’t show it. “I remember reading the stories of how upset your brother was.”
Shanna’s murder during a botched robbery attempt had indeed made the news for several days, but that had happened nearly two years ago. Griff figured that wasn’t nearly recent enough to stick in Marlon’s mind, especially since the murder hadn’t taken place near Marlon’s hometown of Silver Creek. No, it was more likely that he had done intensive computer searches on Rachel, as well, and that Shanna’s name had come up.
Nearly everything that came out of this guy’s mouth seemed to be some kind of red flag, and Griff hated that Rachel had been under the same roof with him for nearly a month. Because she’d run from her father, it might have put her in the path of a dangerous predator. Of course, this predator was now trying to point the finger at Warren.
“You can set up your laptop there.” Griff pointed to the edge of Egan’s desk. “And while you’re doing that, you can explain to me why you have this fixation with Rachel.”
Marlon took out his laptop and a large manila envelope, and Griff noticed that the man had a white-knuckle grip on his computer bag. “Is that what you told him?” Marlon asked Rachel.
“No,” Griff said, before she could answer. “She said you blame her for Taryn breaking up with you. But the way you’re acting seems more like a fixation to me.”
“Well, it’s not.” Marlon shifted the tense grip to his laptop and envelope when he put them on the desk. “Despite what went on between Taryn and her, Rachel’s been a good customer at my parents’ inn, and I’m trying to do her a favor.” He stared at Griff. “Or would you rather me not give you something that would cause you to have to arrest your mentor?”
Griff was certain that tightened his own jaw. “Just show us what you have.”
His reaction seemed to amuse Marlon, and Griff instantly regretted that he’d shown any emotion about Warren. Now this clown knew it was a sore spot and might try to use it.
“You should know up front that I take pictures,” Marlon continued, as he pulled up a file of photos. He motioned toward the envelope. “I also printed out copies of the ones I thought would interest you.”
Griff glanced at the file and saw that there were hundreds of photos, and judging from the quick look that Griff got, some had been taken of the sheriff’s office from the diner. Apparently, Marlon had been busy while he tried to spy on Rachel.
“I took these last night,” he went on, and he clicked on the first photo. “Now, before you start accusing me of anything, I hadn’t planned on taking pictures of Rachel. I was just going to take some sunset shots for the inn’s webpage. But about the time I started, Rachel just happened to come outside.”
Well, it was indeed Rachel, and she was coming out of the inn. It wasn’t dark yet so Griff could easily see her and a couple who were on the sidewalk just a few yards from the front door. Rachel seemed to be searching through her purse, and she definitely didn’t have her attention on Marlon.
“I was looking for my car keys,” Rachel volunteered. “I didn’t see Marlon.” Her voice was tight and clipped, no doubt because she didn’t like the idea that someone like Marlon had been photographing her.
The next shot had her just to the edge of the camera range. The inn was in the background, and Marlon was behind her and to her right. However, Griff saw something else.
A man.
He was on the left side of the inn, and definitely not in plain sight like the couple. He seemed to be lurking behind some shrubs.
Griff pointed to the murky image. “Zoom in on that,” he told Marlon.
“I’ve already enlarged it. And printed out a copy for you to keep.”
Marlon clicked on the enlarged picture on his laptop, and even though the light wasn’t that good, Griff got a look at the man’s face, and it was someone he recognized. Apparently, so did Rachel.
“That’s Buddy Hoskins,” she said, touching her fingers to her mouth.
Yep, it was, and Griff was instantly suspicious. For one thing, Buddy was from San Antonio, a good hour away from Silver Creek. But what was more concerning was that Buddy was the one who’d supposedly sent that text to Warren to meet him at the bar. The bar where someone had likely drugged Warren.
“I know him,” Rachel said. Her forehead bunched, and Griff knew why. Apparently, so did Marlon.
“He was your father’s criminal informant,” Marlon supplied. “I know that because I talked to him. In fact, I stopped him from following you.”
She shook her head. “When did this happen? And what did he say?”
Griff wanted to know the same thing, because he was having a hard time figuring out why Buddy would have admitted to Marlon that he was a CI.
“After you got in your car and drove off, Buddy started hurrying to the parking lot,” Marlon explained. “That’s when I saw he’d parked a truck there.” He motioned toward the envelope again. “I got a picture of the truck, too, so you could match the license plate.”
Smart thinking, but the truck might not even belong to Buddy. If so, it could give them a lead as to who had sent him to Silver Creek.
“I ran to Buddy,” Marlon went on, “and I demanded to know why he was there. I said if he didn’t tell me, I’d call the cops, and that I wouldn’t let him leave until they got there. Anyway, that’s when he said he was there because Warren had hired him to find Rachel.”
Rachel shook her head again. “Th
at’s not right. My father wouldn’t have hired a man like Buddy, not when he has plenty of law enforcement connections.”
“Maybe Warren didn’t want to use those connections if he was going to do something illegal,” Marlon quickly pointed out. “You know, like maybe blow up your car so you’d come running back here to McCall Canyon and to him. If so, it worked, because here you are.”
Griff immediately saw a flaw with that theory. “Warren wouldn’t have risked hurting Rachel just to bring her back home.”
Marlon made a sound of disagreement. “She wasn’t hurt. Didn’t get a scratch on her from what I can see. Heck, for all I know, the shooter could have been firing blanks at her.”
There weren’t blanks. Griff had heard the bullets smacking into the buildings along that alley. But that led him to his next question. If Warren hadn’t hired Buddy, then why had the CI been there?
“What else did Buddy say to you?” Griff pressed.
“Not much, but he didn’t have to. I could see that he was fidgeting and in need of a fix.” Marlon made eye contact with Griff. “I experimented with drugs when I was in college and got hooked. I’ve been clean for over two years now, but I know an addict when I see one, and Buddy’s an addict. That’s when I realized he had to be some kind of criminal informant.” He paused. “Or else he was working for someone else who wanted to frame Warren.”
Bingo. That was a theory that Griff had a much easier time believing. Hearing it even seemed to make Rachel relax a little.
“Still, I don’t think you can rule out Warren putting all of this together,” Marlon added, shifting his attention back to Rachel. “I’m sorry. That’s probably not something you want to hear, but I want you to take it seriously. Despite what you think of me, I don’t want you hurt.”
The jury was still out on that because the third theory was that Marlon had orchestrated the attack and then arranged for Buddy, Dennis and Warren to be in Silver Creek. That way if the guilt didn’t stick to Warren, Marlon could try to pin this on Simon. Either way, Griff needed to talk to Buddy.
He took out his phone and texted a fellow Ranger to put an APB out on the man. Maybe when they found him, he would have answers to help clear this up.
“What?” Marlon practically shouted. “I don’t get some thanks for doing your job for you?”
There it was. The mean streak had returned. “Thanks,” Griff grumbled, but he didn’t bother to put any enthusiasm into his voice. Though he was grateful. Because this gave them a new lead to chase.
One they could hopefully chase from his place, so that he could get Rachel the rest she needed.
“Thank you,” Rachel added to Marlon. She didn’t gush, either.
Marlon glared at her and grabbed his laptop. Griff didn’t want him taking the envelope, so he snatched it up and thumbed through the contents. There were three pictures, and even though he only glanced at them, they appeared to be the same shots taken outside the inn, along with the one of Buddy’s truck.
“Maybe next time when I see or hear anything, I’ll just keep it to myself,” Marlon grumbled.
Griff doubted that. People with fixations preferred to have contact with their targets, and because of Marlon’s anger, Rachel was indeed his target. “FYI, withholding evidence is a crime,” Griff warned him.
That caused Marlon to curse and move even faster in shoving the computer back into his bag. He looked ready to storm out, but he stopped and stared at Rachel. “Be careful about trusting Ranger Morris. His loyalty is to your father, not you.”
Marlon was wrong about that, but Griff didn’t feel especially good about it. Warren had practically raised him, and now he was going to have to investigate the man for murder and attempted murder.
“Are you okay?” Griff asked Rachel the moment Marlon was gone.
She nodded, scrubbed her hands over her arms again. “Just go ahead and call my father.”
Griff would, but first he wanted a closer look at the photos Marlon had left. He knew that Rachel would, too, so he had her sit behind Egan’s desk, and he laid them out in front of her. Her attention went straight to the first shot, where she was riffling through her purse.
“I can’t believe I wasn’t aware of my surroundings,” she said under her breath. “Two men were watching me, and I didn’t even notice. I was just trying to make it to the pharmacy before it closed.”
Yes, and Griff had been only a few miles away. If he’d made it to Silver Creek just minutes earlier, he could have questioned Buddy and might have been able to stop the attack.
Rachel pushed aside that photo and went to the next one—the zoomed-in picture of Buddy. Griff hadn’t needed to see it again to know that Buddy had indeed been watching her. What he hadn’t noticed before, though, was that the side of Buddy’s shirt seemed to be bulky. That probably meant he’d been armed.
Griff silently cursed. He wished that Marlon had called the cops. As close as the inn was to the Silver Creek sheriff’s office, they could have been there in minutes and maybe arrested the man.
“Buddy’s truck,” Rachel said, when she looked at the third and final picture.
This shot wasn’t nearly as clear as the other two. Probably because Marlon had snapped it in a hurry while trying to get to Buddy. It was a late model blue Ford and, thankfully, the license plate was in view. Griff was about to phone the number in when he saw something else.
Or rather, someone else.
A figure just at the edge of the photo. Not in the actual parking lot, but next to a tree that appeared to be a good ten yards from Buddy’s truck. It definitely wasn’t Warren, but it was someone both Rachel and he recognized.
Hell.
What was Brad doing there?
Chapter Eight
Brad.
The DA’s name kept going through her head, and Rachel couldn’t make it stop. First her father had been in Silver Creek. Then Dennis and Buddy. And now they could add Brad to the list. It was too bad Brad wasn’t available to defend himself, but he hadn’t answered his phone when Griff had tried to call him, and his assistant had said he was away on a business trip.
Rachel wanted to dismiss it as nothing, but she couldn’t. After all, Brad hadn’t mentioned that visit when he’d seen her yesterday at the sheriff’s office. There was no good reason for him to hide something like that.
But there was a bad one.
If he’d been the one who’d attacked Griff and her, there’s no way he would have volunteered that he had been in the area less than a half hour before someone had put a bomb on her car.
“Don’t make yourself crazy over this,” Griff said.
His voice was surprisingly calm, though she wasn’t sure how he’d managed that. Since he could have been killed in Silver Creek, this had to be eating away at him. Plus, she knew that Griff didn’t like Brad, that there was this rivalry between them. And that rivalry was because of her.
“Am I Brad’s motive for the attack?” She hadn’t intended to ask the question aloud, but was glad she did.
“Probably,” Griff readily answered, which meant he’d already considered it. “I don’t think he’s as unhinged as Marlon, but Brad’s always had feelings for you. Maybe he got fed up with waiting for you to return those feelings again.” But then he shook his head, groaned. “And it’s also possible that Brad was set up, too.”
True. He could have been lured there like her father. Maybe even Buddy was, as well, and that caused her to huff.
“We can’t rule out any of our suspects,” she said. “Not Marlon, Brad, Simon nor Alma.”
Griff made a sound of agreement and took the turn to his ranch. As he’d done since they’d left the sheriff’s office, he also kept watch around them and glanced back at Thea’s cruiser to make sure she was staying close. She was. Because Rachel was watching her, too, in the side mirror, she had no trouble seeing Thea.
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br /> His sister had agreed to do protection detail with him, though Rachel hated to tie up one of Egan’s deputies—especially since Egan had something else to investigate. Now that he’d finished his interviews with Alma and Simon—Marlon never returned to the sheriff’s office for his interview—he would need to focus on finding a money trail that would link any of their suspects to the attack. Rachel wasn’t sure how easy it’d be to get financials on a district attorney, but at least he wouldn’t have to start that process until he’d interviewed Brad.
Griff turned onto the ranch road, and his house came into view. Rachel had tried to brace herself for the memories that would come with seeing the place. However, it wasn’t exactly memories that she got. The heat came, and the old attraction slid right through her before she could stop it.
Great. This wasn’t a good start to what would be at least one overnight stay. And it wouldn’t matter that Thea would be in the house with them, because Griff and Rachel would still be sharing the same space.
The very space that had landed them in bed.
He pulled to a stop directly in front of the house and got her moving inside. His golden retriever, Scout, was right there in the foyer, waiting for them, but as soon as Griff gave the dog a few rubs on the head, Scout headed off to the back of the house. She knew there was a pet door off the kitchen and that the dog spent more time outside than he did in.
Griff had a security system, and he shut the door and armed it as soon as Thea was in the foyer. She was carrying a large pizza that she’d ordered from the diner, and had her laptop tucked under her arm.
“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” Thea said. “Help yourself to pizza if you’re hungry, because I doubt there’s much more than beer and sandwich stuff in Griff’s fridge.” She glanced at them and then seemed to hesitate a little when her attention landed on Rachel.
Rachel hoped Thea hadn’t picked up on the attraction she was feeling for Griff. And while she was hoping, she didn’t want Griff to pick up on it, either.
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