“Like the article you were writing on Kirby,” Slade challenged.
“Caitlyn axed that article,” Harlan tossed out just as fast.
It had cost him to defend her and Caitlyn appreciated it. However, she knew it was motivated by the attraction. But even a strong attraction wasn’t going to smooth over the differences between Harlan and her.
Would that stop them from landing in bed?
No.
But it would basically ensure that she’d get a broken heart out of this. In the grand scheme of things that was better than dying, but it was a sad day in a woman’s life when it came down to those two options.
Slade turned onto the road toward Rocky Creek. Not cloaked in darkness, thank goodness. There were plenty of security lights blazing, and when the building came into view, Caitlyn immediately spotted not one car but two. One of them belonged to Billy, and she recognized another as Curtis’s.
“What the hell is going on?” Harlan mumbled, and he tried Billy’s phone again. Still no answer.
Before Slade and the cruiser even pulled to a stop, Curtis got out. Not alone either. He had his bodyguard with him—the same man who’d been with him when he’d visited Harlan and her.
But Billy wasn’t in his vehicle.
It was empty, and the driver’s door was wide-open. Worse, the repeated beeping sound let her know that the key was still in the ignition. Headlights on, too. Whatever had gone on here, it appeared that Billy had made a hasty exit.
And not a voluntary one.
“What happened?” Harlan asked Curtis the moment he got out. He drew his gun just as the sheriff and deputy did when they hurried from the cruiser. “Where’s Billy Webb? And who was murdered?”
“Murdered?” Curtis repeated. The shock in his voice made it seem as if he was hearing this for the first time. And maybe he was.
“Billy didn’t say anything about anyone being murdered.” Curtis was trying to catch his breath, and he motioned for his bodyguard to move closer to him. “Billy called me about a half hour ago and asked me to meet him here.”
Caitlyn got out of the truck as well, but when she tried to go closer to the men, Harlan blocked her path. He scanned the area and positioned himself in front of her like a sentry.
“And you came because Billy asked?” Caitlyn didn’t know if he was lying or just plain stupid. “There’s a killer on the loose.” Heck, maybe Curtis himself, and if so that would explain why he hadn’t been afraid that he might die out here.
Of course, the same could be said for Billy.
“Where’s Billy?” Harlan demanded.
“Don’t know. We just got here a few minutes ago, and we found his car like this. He’s not answering his phone either.”
“How in the name of heaven did Billy convince you to come out here?” she asked.
Curtis cursed, but not at them. He cursed himself. “Billy said he was meeting someone who had answers about Sherry’s disappearance. I need answers, and he sounded as if he had them. Besides, Sherry always said she liked Billy, that he was a good kid. I thought I could trust him.”
“My advice? Don’t trust anyone,” Harlan warned. He looked back at her. “Stay put, and if anything goes wrong, get inside the truck.”
She nodded, only because she didn’t want an argument to distract him from finding the person Billy claimed had been murdered. Still, she didn’t want Harlan headed into those woods.
But that was exactly the direction he went.
Slade stayed with her, taking over protection detail, but Harlan looked at the ground around Billy’s car and started walking toward a thick cluster of trees on the east side of the property. Thankfully, he didn’t go alone. Both Sheriff Sheldon and the deputy followed.
“I want a gun,” she whispered to Slade. She figured he had some kind of backup on him. He stared at her, debating what to do, and finally reached into the back waist of his jeans and pulled out a small pistol.
“I was wrong to trust Billy, wasn’t I?” But Curtis didn’t wait for an answer. “Is he a killer? Is he the one behind all these bad things that have been happening?”
“I don’t know.” But considering that Billy wasn’t answering his phone and was nowhere in sight, it was just as likely that Billy had been the victim of foul play.
Curtis hitched his thumb to the building. “Can we at least go inside and wait? I feel like a sitting duck out here.”
“The door’s got a lock on it,” his bodyguard observed.
Harlan had a key, or at least he’d had one for their earlier visit. But then Caitlyn remembered that he hadn’t locked it when they’d run out of there after someone—maybe Curtis—had called the Rangers on them.
“So who locked it?” She glanced back at Slade.
But Slade just lifted his shoulder. “Not me. Maybe the groundskeeper, Rudy Simmons, is back from his trip.”
Caitlyn remembered the man, but he hadn’t been there during their earlier visit. However, he could be the one Billy had called about. Maybe Billy had found the man’s body, but that didn’t answer the question of where Billy had gone.
And had he been forced to make a hasty exit from his vehicle?
Her heart began to bang against her chest when Harlan and the other lawmen disappeared into the woods. After the past two days of nothing but danger and chaos, she should have been numb to it by now, but Harlan and numb didn’t go together.
There was no sound, no warning, but the security lights suddenly went out. Before Caitlyn could even react, Slade latched on to her, swinging her between him and the truck seat, and raised his gun.
“Harlan?” she shouted.
No answer. She braced herself for the sound of shots. For anything. But nothing happened.
Her heart was past the pounding stage now, and everything inside her screamed for her to run and help Harlan, but Slade kept her pinned in place.
Her eyes adjusted to the pitchy darkness, and thanks to the lights from Billy’s car, she had no trouble seeing Curtis and his bodyguard. Both had weapons drawn, too. But the one person she couldn’t see was Harlan.
“He could be ambushed.” Her voice didn’t have much sound, but Slade must have heard it.
“Harlan?” Slade called.
The moments crawled by, and Caitlyn hadn’t thought that silence could terrify her any more than she already was, but it did. She couldn’t just stand there if Harlan was in some kind of danger.
“I have to go,” she told Slade, and she made sure it didn’t sound like a suggestion.
That earned her another glare from him. Some profanity, too. But he started moving along with her. “Stay behind me and try not to get killed.”
Not exactly a friendly invitation, but she’d take what she could get. Caitlyn stayed right with Slade as he made his way to the woods. Not a speedy trip, though, because he kept looking back at Curtis and his bodyguard. Caitlyn did, too, but neither man made an attempt to follow them. In fact, they got back inside their car.
Each step seemed to take a lifetime, but Slade didn’t run. He inched along, his gaze snapping all around them. Caitlyn kept watch, too, but by the time she made it to the trees, the worst-case scenarios were starting to smother her.
Until she heard Harlan.
He whispered something she didn’t understand, and before she actually saw him, his hand snaked out from the tree and he jerked her toward him. It was too dark for her to see his expression, but he put his mouth to her ear.
“Shhh.” And Harlan tipped his head toward their right.
Caitlyn followed his gaze and saw a faint light in the distance. Maybe a flashlight, but if so, it was on the ground, and if someone was holding it, the person didn’t seem to be moving.
Was it Billy?
And if he wasn’t moving, did that mean he�
�d been hurt or even killed?
Harlan motioned for Slade to move behind her. He did, and along with the sheriff and deputy, they began to make their way toward the light. Above them a breeze was rattling the leaves just enough that it made it harder for Caitlyn to hear. Maybe those leaves and the breeze wouldn’t mask the footsteps of anyone trying to sneak up on them.
They were still a good ten yards away from the light when Harlan’s phone buzzed. Mumbling some profanity about the bad timing, he took out his cell, the screen like a beacon in the darkness.
“It’s Billy,” Harlan relayed to them in a whisper. He didn’t put the call on speaker but Caitlyn stayed close enough to hear.
“Someone tried to kill me,” Billy blurted out.
Mercy. That was not what she wanted to hear. It meant the killer was still out here in these woods.
“Where are you?” Harlan asked. He got them moving again.
“By the creek. Right after I talked to you, someone fired a shot at me. That’s when I ran.”
Caitlyn couldn’t be sure, but she thought she actually heard the rushing creek water in the background. She certainly heard the fear in Billy’s voice.
“I dropped my flashlight in the woods.” Billy moaned. “By the body.”
“Whose body?” Harlan demanded.
Billy made another sound as if he’d sucked in his breath. “I hear footsteps.”
And with that, the call ended.
“Head to the creek,” Harlan told Slade. “Take the deputy with you.”
Slade didn’t question his brother’s order and neither did the deputy. As she watched them hurry away, however, Caitlyn had a sickening thought.
What if Billy had set all of this up?
What if he’d done this to separate them so he could pick them off one by one?
Maybe there’d been no murder—only the ones that Billy was planning now. Their murders. But Caitlyn wouldn’t just let Billy or anyone else kill them without a fight. Thank God she’d gotten the gun from Slade.
Harlan pushed aside a low-hanging tree branch, and from over his shoulder Caitlyn spotted the flashlight on the ground amid some weeds. The lines of light sprayed out like fingers and moved with each new brush from the breeze.
Then Caitlyn saw the body.
There went her theory about no murder. The person was in a heap facedown.
The three of them moved forward in unison. Not much they could tell, though, because the person was wearing a raincoat and slicker-style hat.
“Keep watch,” Harlan reminded them, and he stooped to touch his fingers to the person’s neck.
Almost immediately he drew back his hand. “Dead.”
Caitlyn’s breath swooshed out. She’d hoped this was a false alarm, but no such luck. And she seriously doubted that it was the killer dead on the ground.
No.
This was another victim.
Harlan didn’t touch the rest of the body or the flashlight, but he pushed the button on his phone to illuminate the screen so he could lower it to the face.
Even with the angle and the hat, Caitlyn could see the person’s features, and she staggered back.
God.
Sherry Summers was no longer missing. She was dead.
Chapter Fourteen
Harlan was glad it was close to midnight, because that meant this hellish day would soon be over.
Finally.
There was no way of knowing if tomorrow would be equally hellish, but anything short of death and serious injury would be an improvement.
“Anything new?” Caitlyn asked. She stood in the doorway of his home office sipping a longneck beer that she’d snagged from his fridge.
Nothing new that he wanted to relay to her, so he settled for a grunt that could have meant anything.
She’d showered. He caught a whiff of his soap. Shampoo, too. But they seemed to smell a lot better on her than they’d ever smelled on him.
“It’s my last change of clothes,” she mumbled, glancing down at her jeans and white camisole.
It took Harlan a moment to realize why she’d volunteered that. Because he was looking her over from head to toe. Actually, he was past the looking stage and had progressed to gawking, so he forced himself to glance away. Not that it would help. Her image was branded in his head. Her taste, too.
Heck, plain and simple, he was just branded all over when it came to Caitlyn.
That wasn’t a news flash to either of them. She had yet to step into his office since they’d arrived back at his house. In fact, she’d pretty much avoided getting anywhere near him.
Maybe because she felt as he did. If they touched, the hellish day might come crashing down on them.
Harlan wasn’t sure what the result of the crashing might be—maybe sex or a good falling apart—but the latter seemed a lot to risk with the exhaustion already closing in.
Even though every bone and muscle in his body was yelling for him to get some sleep, he continued to scroll through the reports and emails he was getting about the investigation. Everyone seemed to be in on it. The marshals. Rangers. The locals from Rocky Creek. The governor was even asking questions, because Sherry’s body had been found on state-owned property. So Harlan read them all, not liking much of what he was reading.
Farris was already out of jail on bond. Lots of money and good lawyers could manage that even for a man who should be locked away for life.
Billy was in hospital being treated for a gunshot wound to the arm. It wasn’t serious, but the man had been so shaken up that he’d required some sedation. However, he’d be released soon.
Devin was nowhere to be found, and Curtis had had a major meltdown when he’d seen Sherry’s body. According to his lawyer, Curtis was so distraught, he wouldn’t be able to answer questions for a while.
Caitlyn cleared her throat, grabbing his attention again. “How’d Sherry die?”
Oh, it was going to hurt to say this and hurt even more for her to hear it. “She’d been strangled.”
Caitlyn clamped her teeth over her bottom lip, but not before she made a helpless little sound. Harlan could almost see the memories of Farris’s attack zooming through her head.
“Farris could have done it,” she choked out.
Yeah, Farris could have indeed killed Sherry, and his motive might be all mixed together with his obsession with Caitlyn. “We won’t know for a while, but the ME thinks Sherry could have been dead for days.”
Hell, maybe even weeks, because when Harlan had touched her, she’d felt ice-cold, as if her body had been frozen and then partially thawed. That meant any of their suspects could have killed her at any time, and their alibis were out the window.
“Did Billy happen to say how he knew the body was there?” Still holding the nearly full bottle of beer in her hand, Caitlyn reached down, pulled off her shoes and rubbed her feet. It seemed, well, normal except her hands were trembling.
“He said, but it didn’t make a lot of sense.” Harlan was hoping he could blame that on the sedative Billy had been given. “He claims he was out at Rocky Creek just to look around and maybe talk to the groundskeeper, and then he heard something in the woods and went to have a look. That’s when he found the body.”
“Claims? You don’t believe him.”
Harlan had to shrug. “As far as I’m concerned, he’s still a suspect.”
“Along with Devin, Curtis and Farris.” The next sound she made was one of pure frustration.
She bobbled, nearly lost her footing and Harlan stood to catch her. However, Caitlyn waved him off and slid down to a sitting position on the floor. “I’d love to lean on you tonight, but we both know it’d lead straight to the bed.”
Since it had already crossed his mind—many times—he hadn’t expected her
stating the obvious comment to hit him like a sucker punch. But he actually lost his breath for a moment. Not a very manly reaction, which was weird, because everything else about his reaction was manly times a thousand. His body sure wasn’t going to let him forget that if he pushed this, just a little, he could have Caitlyn in his bed.
Or on his office floor.
The corner of her mouth lifted. “Face it, we’re too tired for sex anyway.”
“No such thing.”
She laughed. It was smoky and thick and laced with the fatigue that had obviously made them both punchy. “What we need is to catch the killer, get some rest and then...go out to dinner or something.”
“I’d prefer the sex. But dinner’s a good start.”
He stood there, watching her and wondering how long it was going to take him to get on the floor with her. But a thought stopped him, and he mentally repeated what she’d just said.
Catch the killer.
The only way that was going to happen was to flush him out.
Caitlyn tilted her head, studied him. “That doesn’t seem like a foreplay kind of look in your eyes.”
“It’s not.” And while it hurt to say that, he saw a glimmer of hope. A way of maybe ending the danger so that he and Caitlyn could, well, have dinner.
“What are you doing?” she asked when he took out his phone.
“Putting out some bait.”
He called the marshals’ office, and Slade answered. Obviously, Caitlyn and he weren’t the only ones not getting any sleep tonight.
“Nothing to update,” Slade immediately volunteered. “How about you?”
“No, and that’s why I want to shake things up. I need something leaked, but I want it to come from the marshals so it looks official.”
“I can send it from my work computer. What you want leaked?”
“A lie,” Harlan readily admitted. “You okay with that?”
Slade just grunted. “What’s the lie?”
“That the ME found something on Sherry’s body. A partial fingerprint on the back of her neck that’s consistent with the ligature marks from the strangulation that caused her death. And I want you to say that the Rangers are sending someone to the morgue first thing in the morning so the print can be retrieved and processed.”
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