Like she would need refreshing after his threatening glare in court. “Do you know anything about his organization since he was incarcerated?”
“He didn’t control them from prison, if that’s what you mean. His lieutenant ran things into the ground, and they gradually lost their influence to rival gangs.”
“So Scanlon doesn’t have their backing right now?”
“Could, but his sphere of influence is greatly reduced.”
They had to find him and do so quickly. “One more thing. Can you look for vehicles registered in his name?”
“Sure, hang on.”
She waited, humming the final Jeopardy theme song in her head to keep from stressing over the thought that a brutal drug lord might be gunning for her.
“Okay, he has one vehicle with expired tags. A Chrysler Cordoba.”
“Never heard of that model.”
“A 1977. Aqua. Likely rebuilt and souped up.”
“No pickups though.”
“Nah. Just the Cordoba. These guys aren’t really the pickup kind of crowd. Lowriders are more their style.”
“Thanks, Yancy. I owe you.”
“Yeah you do, and you know I’ll collect.” His laughter rang through her phone then suddenly stilled. “Take care, Sam. And watch your back.”
She disconnected the call and didn’t want to tell Griff. He would overreact. Big time. If you could overreact to the fact that a brutal killer might be hunting her down.
“I take it it’s not good news,” he said.
She shared the information about Scanlon. “He was an infamous drug dealer in Portland with a rep for brutality. Wiped out three of his rivals in one night. I got a call—shots fired. I was just around the corner and arrived in time to see him fleeing, murder weapon in hand. I took him down and was the prosecution’s key witness. He would never have been convicted without my testimony.”
Griff sucked in a quick, raspy breath. Let it out on a hiss. “You think he plans to pay you back?”
“Wouldn’t put it past him.” She took a moment to ponder the news. “But he may just leave it alone. You know, so he doesn’t risk going away again.”
“Since when have you known a ruthless drug dealer to think logically?”
“Never,” she said.
“I’ll need his mug shot and a physical description.”
“Yancy’s emailing the information.”
“Good.” The depth of anger in his tone made his single word sound deadly. “And we’ll need to know where he’s living and what kind of vehicle he’s driving.”
“Yancy said Scanlon didn’t leave a forwarding address but we have his lawyer’s name.” She sighed. “But you know the lawyer won’t give us any information.”
“I could get in and out of his office without anyone knowing.”
“Breaking and entering?” She gawked at him. “I can’t condone breaking the law.”
“Not even if it saves your life?”
“Not even then.”
He gritted his teeth. “Then we need someone to visit his last known address, also someone to sit on the attorney’s office in case Scanlon shows.”
“I’ll call Gage right now, but with Coop out of commission, others staking out Nobles’ place, and our scheduled classes, we’re running out of team members to assign.”
“I don’t know Gage well, but I do know he won’t let one of his team down. He’ll figure out a way to make it happen.”
“Yeah, I guess he will. Let me call.” She dialed him, and as Griff predicted, Gage said he could put someone on the lawyer’s office. And he would also task Eryn with finding Scanlon’s last known address so they could proceed from there.
Feeling better, she disconnected and shared her conversation with Griff. He gave a grunt of acknowledgment, and then fell silent, his fingers tight on the wheel and his teeth clenched.
In Rugged Point, he swung into his driveway and turned off the engine.
She looked at him. “I can wait out here.”
His gaze narrowed. “No. No way. I’m not leaving you out here alone.”
“Right,” she said and gave herself a stern warning. She needed to start thinking like a hunted woman. Start thinking about protecting herself in every situation. Like when she was a police officer and had to remember that every possible situation she encountered—even a traffic stop—could end her life.
He opened her door, and they walked down the driveway side by side. She felt vulnerable and a target, so she kept her head on a swivel. It would be so easy to slip her hand in Griff’s and draw on his strength. But she had no right.
He glanced at her, and she didn’t want him to worry about her, so she smiled. His mask remained in place, and he quickened his steps to the back door. He reached for the knob, but the door stood ajar, the wooden frame pried from the wall.
He shoved her behind his body, and his hand dropped to his gun. “Back to the truck.”
“No way.” She drew her weapon. “I’m going in.”
18
Sam tried to slip past Griff but he blocked her path. No way he would let her enter before him. If the killer waited inside to blast them with his rifle, Griff would take the bullet for her.
He kicked open the door. Memories of so many ops where he’d done the exact same thing flashed in his brain. But then he’d been backed up by a team and didn’t need to worry. They were precision trained. Now he was only with the woman he loved.
There he admitted it. He loved Sam. Never stopped. He shook his head to clear his brain.
“Police,” she yelled out the moment she stepped inside.
He would’ve gone in stealth and surprised the intruder, but she was doing what she’d been trained as a police officer to do.
He flipped on a light and ran his gaze over the space, searching for a trespasser. Saw no one. But someone had been there. Cabinets were open and empty. Bookshelves overturned. Items strewn around both rooms. Dishes smashed. The sofa tipped over. The cushions slashed, and the stuffing spilling out.
“They were looking for something,” he spoke the obvious.
“But what?”
“Maybe something Andy hid here.”
“The storage locker key. They could’ve been looking for that or his phone.”
“Sounds like a good possibility.” Griff signaled for them to advance. He made sure to stay directly in front of her and eased down the hallway. His bedroom suffered a similar fate as did the guest room, but the intruder was gone.
He turned.
Sam holstered her gun.
“You’re making my job of protecting you very hard.” He stowed his weapon and faced her. “Insisting on coming in here was foolish.”
“I didn’t know protecting me was your job.”
He rolled his eyes. “I can’t have you getting shot. I just can’t. You have to be more careful.”
“We couldn’t let the intruder get away. He could be Andy’s killer.”
“Yes, but we could’ve backed off. Called in law enforcement.”
“You think they’re more capable than me?” Her voice rose. “You don’t trust my abilities?”
“I trust them just fine, but I would trust you more if you were wearing a protective vest.”
“Right.” Her confidence evaporated, stripped away by his words. The woman who stood before him was vulnerable and afraid.
He’d warned himself this morning to keep his focus. To keep his eye on protecting her. And that’s all he should do. But this? Her expression of such despair couldn’t go unaddressed. He gently drew her into his arms. She came willingly and snuggled against his chest the same way she’d nuzzled Pepper. A satisfied sigh slipped from her mouth, and he felt her contentment clear to his bones, his heart filling with joy.
He wanted this warmth in his life again. He hadn’t even looked for it with someone else. Why try when he’d once known such amazing love? He’d known he would never find it again. Turns out, he’d never lost it. Just lost the ability
to be with the woman he loved.
She lifted her head and put her hands on his chest to push back.
He couldn’t let her go yet and kept his arms lightly circling her waist.
“What happened to us, Sam?” he whispered and rested his forehead on hers. “I just want us back to the way we were before.”
“I…” Her voice fell off.
“I’ve never stopped loving you. Wanting you.” His voice cracked, and he paused to gain control of his emotions. “I thought if we ever saw each other again, you would realize that and give us another chance. But looks like I was wrong. Do I just need to give up and move on once and for all?”
“No…I…yes. I want you in my life. I really do, but I can’t. Not after…” She fell silent.
“After what?” he prodded gently.
She swallowed hard. “My dad.”
“What about him?”
“You know my mom and dad split up, right?”
“Yeah, of course. It’s not a secret.”
“Well what no one outside the family knows is that Dad cheated on Mom, and she threw him out.” Sam pushed free and shoved a hand into her hair. “Mom didn’t even try to patch things up. Just said ‘once a cheater always a cheater’ and told him to leave.”
She deeply admired her dad, so it was no wonder this had affected her to such an extreme. “You and your mom argued about that, too, right, and it’s why you don’t talk to her or your dad?”
She nodded.
“I’m sorry, honey. I really am. Your dad totally messed up, but what does that have to do with us?”
“Don’t you see?” She gaped at him. “He was like this pillar in my life. Taught me so many things. Physical things like fishing, playing ball, and riding a bike. But also what it meant to love God. To live by faith and follow Him. To sacrifice and love. To trust. Most of all to trust. In others and God. And then…” Her eyes filled with tears.
Griff would do anything to take her pain away. He reached out.
She backed up. A deep, wracking sob escaped, but she shook it off. “Then he blew it big time. Destroyed our family. All of us. Ruined everything.”
“I’m so sorry that your world was shattered, honey. You know that, right?”
She nodded her understanding.
“But I still don’t get what it has to do with us.”
She lifted haunted eyes to him. “If Dad could cheat, anyone could, including you. I can’t risk getting hurt like that again. Not ever.”
He never imagined her reason for leaving him could be this deep-seated. Fear that he would never get through to her sent panic racing through his body. “I’d never cheat on you. Why would I when you’re everything I’ve ever wanted?”
“You say that now. My dad said that to my mom once, I’m sure. But now…now he ruined everything.”
Griff understood her hesitancy, but he wasn’t her father. Or a man who would cheat. And she was missing so much in life from her fear. How could he get her to see that? To trust him?
“What happened to your earlier sermon?” he asked, grasping for straws. “The one about accepting things the way they are and believing it’s for the best?”
“Yeah, I’m a real hypocrite. I can spout it, but I can’t live it.” She took a long shuddering breath, let it out, and reached for her phone. “I’ll give Blake a call so we can get started processing this place for any forensic leads.”
Griff wanted to argue, but she’d already dialed. He bent to pick up a photo of his parents and hated that an intruder had laid destructive hands on this photo. It was one of the few shots he had of the three of them together before his parents died. He couldn’t imagine how he would have dealt with them divorcing like Sam’s parents had done. Or if his dad had cheated on his mom.
Man, that was rough. She’d been dealing with this for years, and he wished he could’ve helped her like she’d been there for him when his parents died.
“Don’t touch anything. Prints. Forensics.” She looked at him. “In fact, we should both step outside and wait for booties before moving anywhere else.”
“We’ll go back to the door, but I’m not letting you make yourself an easy target outside,” he said firmly.
She greeted Blake on her phone as she made her way to the door. Griff could hear the sheriff responding and sounding upset.
Sam explained the situation, her words clipped and concise then listened intently.
“Look,” she said, her free hand going to her hip. “I get that it’s a crime scene and your team will process the place. But you’re going to have to let me help on this one. Andy was my friend. I won’t stand back. And if you try to keep me out, I know Griff will authorize me to be in his house.”
She ended the call and quickly dialed again. “Gage. Listen. Someone trashed Griff’s place. I need my kit to work the scene. It’s in the lab. Can you have someone drive it over here? And before you ask, I already called Blake. He’s agreed to let me help.”
Griff snorted, and she snapped her gaze to him, a question in her eyes.
“Like Blake had any other choice,” he mumbled.
She shook her head, and thanked Gage, then shoved her phone into her pocket.
“The sheriff never had a chance.” Griff met her gaze. “You’re hard to say no to, you know?”
She smiled at him.
She’d just ended his dreams of a life with her by saying they couldn’t have a future, and yet, his heart betrayed him by responding. “Especially when you smile like that. A guy can’t resist.”
“I remember plenty of times you were able to resist and got your own way. Because you, Matt Griffin,” she poked him in the chest, “have an equally disarming smile.”
He grabbed her finger and pulled her close to knuckle her head. She laughed, and the enchanting sound was like twisting a knife in an already open wound.
Sirens sounded in the distance, and her smile vanished. He felt the loss of her joy as acutely as he felt the loss of her on the day she walked out on him. He’d been on a rollercoaster of emotions since rescuing her from the fire, and he couldn’t keep going like this.
He had to figure out how to work alongside her and not feel anything. Nothing. If he didn’t get his emotions completely under control, not only would he wind up as hurt and miserable as he’d been seven years ago, but he could also lose focus at the wrong time, and she could end up dead.
Sam was irritated. Griff was as bad as Blake when it came to her locating evidence. They both hovered over her, waiting and asking about everything she did. They made quite a pair. Blake was dark where Griff was blond, but both were over six feet tall, muscular, and fit. Both wore the mark of a protector and defender. But her heart beat faster for only one of them, who she’d just hurt again, the fresh wound lingering on his face when he didn’t think anyone was looking.
She wanted them both to leave her alone, but Blake insisted on supervising her every move to maintain the evidence chain of custody. He’d even dictated a procedure she didn’t like but had to agree to. She located a lead and his team collected it. So she was left with nothing to analyze. She did manage to take a few pictures of fingerprints. Not really enough to do a thorough analysis, but she could compare them to Nobles’ and have her PPB contact compare them against Scanlon’s prints.
As a tech pressed fingerprint tape over a corner of a bookshelf laying on its side, she looked up at Blake. “You should really let me compare these actual prints to the other ones I’ve processed. And the pet hair, too. It’s not from Pepper, and it seems like a match to what I found at the cannery.”
“No need,” Blake said. “You’ll be turning all of that over to me.”
She clamped a hand on her hip and eyed him. “Oh, really?”
“You’re not going to force me to get a warrant, are you?” He could, and he would.
“Come on, Blake. Be a sport. All the evidence is at my lab or Emory has it, and I promise to turn it all over. I just want to make a quick comparison with toda
y’s items first.”
“I’ll consider letting you do a comparison the moment you hand over your evidence.”
She went to stand directly in front of him. “Why do you always make things so difficult?”
“I’m just doing my job, Sam. Following procedures. You don’t want Andy’s killer and the guy who tried to kill you to get off on a technicality after we catch him, do you?”
“No, but—”
“No buts.” He firmed his stance. “Procedure comes first.”
“Come on, Sam. Time for a break.” Griff took her arm and tugged her away.
She thought to shake off his hand, but he was right. She was accomplishing nothing by arguing with Blake.
She let Griff pull her away, but not before she saw Blake relax in obvious relief. Griff drew her into the kitchen where he grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, opened it, and shoved it at her.
“Drink,” he commanded.
She took it. Not because of his command, but because she was thirsty and did need a break. She shouldn’t have pushed Blake like that. He was doing his job. When she was a PPB criminalist, she wouldn’t have let anyone on her crime scene. Not even someone with top-notch skills.
Griff leaned against the counter. “You always this difficult to work with?”
She shook her head. “It’s Andy, you know? I just…after talking to Flint and Oscar I feel responsible. I should have been a better friend.”
“Don’t go there again.”
“Why not? You are. Both with Andy and Stretch.”
“Yeah, I am. So I know what it’s like. Tears me up inside when I think of you dealing with the same thing.”
She moved closer to him. “Maybe we should help each other out while working on this case.”
“How?”
“By changing our attitudes. You know, what I keep saying but failing on. Do a better job of accepting what is, not what could be. When we fail, we call each other on it.”
He arched a brow. “You think you can tell what I’m thinking? That you can call me out on my thoughts?”
She stepped up to him as she had with Blake. But she wasn’t angry and all she could do was stare into the blue eyes fixed on her, deep and bottomless like the ocean.
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