Forgiven Justice (Cowboy Justice Association Book 14)

by Olivia Jaymes

The parking lot was large but it wasn’t that large.

  “Yes, that’s it. I was confused.”

  “Why did you run?”

  “Because you were chasing me.”

  “I chased you because you were skulking around in a dark parking lot.” Seth gestured to Presley, who had now joined them. “You could really scare someone. You might get yourself hurt.”

  “You’re right. I need to be careful.”

  The man bent over to retrieve his backpack but the top was unzipped. He spilled papers all over the asphalt, muttering a curse word under his breath, frantically trying to gather them all up.

  Presley bent down and began picking up stray papers before they blew across the parking lot.

  “Here, let me help you. You probably don’t want to lose these.”

  “No, don’t. I’ve got this,” the man replied, his efforts doubled, crawling on his hands and knees as fast as possible. “You don’t need to help.”

  “You’re going to lose—“

  Seth’s wife stopped, her gaze fixed on a piece of paper she’d retrieved from under a tire. She then handed it to Seth. “You’ll probably want to take a look at this.”

  Accepting the paper from his wife, Seth could feel the heat begin to build on the back of his neck. It was a page of handwritten notes.

  Of what Ava, Logan, Presley, Seth, and the others did today. A running log of activity.

  Before the wide-eyed man could make a run for it, Seth clapped a hand on his shoulder.

  “I think we need to have a chat.”

  Ava hadn’t been wrong. Someone had been watching.

  But why?

  19

  On the bright side, Ava wasn’t losing her mind. She wasn’t paranoid or imagining things.

  On the darker side, however, someone had been watching her and her friends. The men were currently interrogating him in Seth and Presley’s kitchen. The man, who appeared to be somewhere in his thirties, had shut down and didn’t want to talk. He was clutching his backpack to his torso as if it was a lifeline, studiously avoiding any eye contact whatsoever.

  Logan held out the paper, placing it in front of the man’s face but he wouldn’t look up from the floor.

  “You’ve been watching us. And taking notes. I think you better start talking.”

  The man wouldn’t raise his head or speak.

  Tanner stepped forward, a menacing expression in his face. If it was possible, he was even more angry than Logan and Seth.

  “If you don’t start talking and telling us the truth, I’m going to search your backpack and see what else you’ve been doing.”

  The man’s head jerked up. “You can’t do that. It’s illegal. You’re not a cop anymore.”

  So this guy knew that Tanner had once been a sheriff? Interesting.

  “So is being a pervert,” Logan said. “We could call the cops on you for being a Peeping Tom.”

  “I’m not a pervert,” the man protested. “I’m not like that.”

  Logan had his lawman gut, but Ava had her writer’s intuition. She’d taken a long look at those notes and there was a little voice in the back of her head talking loudly.

  “You may or may not be a pervert,” she said. “But you’re definitely a reporter of some sort. You want to write a story or maybe a book.”

  The man’s eyes went wide and his mouth fell open. Seth started to laugh.

  “I think you hit the nail on the head there, Ava. You’re batting a thousand today. He’s a goddamn reporter looking for a fucking story.”

  “Bingo,” Logan said, tossing the paper onto the kitchen table. He stood over the man and hovered, getting into his personal space with the intention to intimidate. From the way the guy gulped, it was working. “How in the fuck did you even know we were here? Have you been following us?”

  “I—I found out you were here from your neighbor,” he finally admitted, his face turning beet red. “Actually, it was my girlfriend. She pretended to be your wife’s sister and asked one of your neighbors. They told her where you were so I came down here.”

  Logan rolled his eyes. “Shit, who else knows we’re here?”

  “Probably everyone if this guy is to be believed,” Tanner muttered. “If he’s a newspaper reporter, he may have already filed a story.”

  The man shook his head. “I haven’t. I wanted to talk to you first.”

  “Then why did you spy on us?” Tanner growled. “Why didn’t you just approach us? You had all of us thinking that we were imagining things.”

  “I wanted to see what you were doing. I wanted to see if you were investigating the murders.” He looked straight at Logan. “I know this has something to do with your brother Wade Bryson. I know that the killer was checking off each one of you.”

  Reed leaned down so he was looking in the man’s eyes. “What else do you know? It sounds like you think you know a lot.”

  “I know that you killed Wade Bryson. Both of you were there. I know that your wife was shot.”

  “You don’t know shit about what happened,” Logan said, shaking his head. “You’ve read a few articles and you think you really know. Well, you don’t. And once and for all, Wade Bryson and I were not brothers. We shared a father and some incidental DNA. I have never, before he became a murderer or after, considered him family of any sort.”

  At most, they had been friends, growing up in the same small town.

  “Then tell me,” the man practically begged. “I want to know the truth. Are you in danger? Are others in danger? Did you go there that night specifically to kill Bryson? Is this killer one of his followers trying to get revenge on all of you?”

  Jared hadn’t said much but from his expression he wasn’t a happy man. In fact, he looked furious.

  “Before we answer any questions, how about you answer a few of ours? Certain details about these crimes have been kept from the public. One of those details you’ve revealed to us today - that the killer is checking us off one by one. How do you know that?”

  If a person could both simultaneously look ashamed and proud that was how the reporter appeared. Ava had a feeling that if he had been with his friends he would have been bragging right about now.

  “I snuck into Wright’s condo and looked at his laptop. I saw the crime photos and the investigator notes.”

  Logan whirled around, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He was holding on to his temper by a thread. Personally, Ava wouldn’t mind if her husband wanted to punch this guy in the face.

  “I blamed my kids for that,” Logan spat out. “And by the way, you didn’t sneak in, you son of a bitch, you broke in. That’s against the law. I should call the local cops right now and have your ass thrown in jail. Give me one good reason not to.”

  The reporter didn’t even look sorry. “Maybe I know something you don’t.”

  Jared laughed. “I doubt that. Try again.”

  “Listen, I can tell your story better than anyone could. I can tell the world all the things that you want to say.”

  “Except that I don’t want to say anything,” Logan countered. “Ever. I did my job. That’s it. That’s all we did. All of us. We were doing our job. Frankly, Wade Bryson doesn’t deserve any more publicity. He should be forgotten and the sooner the better. He was a sociopathic narcissist sadist who got off on playing God. The world is a better place without him.”

  “Can I quote you on that?”

  For a moment, Ava thought her husband was going to lunge at the guy, but Tanner pushed him away, whispering something that she couldn’t hear.

  “Senator Marks, do you want to make a statement about the murders?” the reporter asked. “Is it true that you’re thinking about running for governor?”

  Tanner turned toward the man, disgust written in every line of his face. “I’m going to give you some advice, son. You had best stop talking. You’re not doing yourself any favors here.”

  “I’m not going to stop working this case,” the reporter said, bravado in his tone. “T
he people have a right to know what’s going on. And they’re still interested in Wade Bryson, and Logan Wright and his friends.”

  “That’s because they didn’t know Bryson,” Seth said. “If they had, they’d be glad he’s dead and buried. As for Logan and the rest of us, we’re private citizens on vacation with our families. We’re not looking to make any statements to the press.”

  “But you are working on the murders?” the man pressed. “Mr. Wright, you were seen in Corville not long ago.”

  “My wife has family in Corville,” Logan replied. “So being seen there isn’t a big deal.”

  The reporter, who had shown lousy judgment so far, decided to turn his attention to Ava.

  “Is it true, Mrs. Wright, that your own sister no longer speaks to you because your husband couldn’t stop Bryson from killing her husband?”

  Mayhem. Complete and total chaos. It took both Seth and Tanner together to keep Logan from ripping the reporter’s head off. The others were yelling at the man, asking him if he had any decency and on and on. Ava wasn’t particularly bothered by the question; she was simply surprised that her family issues were that public.

  She stepped forward, holding up her hand when Jared gave her a warning look.

  “Actually, I’d like to answer his question. First of all, before I do answer... What’s your name?”

  The reporter’s eyes narrowed as if he didn’t quite trust her, but he responded anyway.

  “Stan. Stan Blankfield.”

  “Who do you work for, Stan?”

  “I’m freelance, but I’ve written pieces for some big newspapers and magazines. If you and your friends would be willing to go on the record, the biggest papers in the country would print this.”

  Ava didn’t doubt his words.

  “We’re not going to speak to you on the record, Stan. We aren’t because the legend of Wade Bryson needs to wither and die. But I will say this to you. I’m extraordinarily proud of my husband. I couldn’t be more proud of what he’s done in his career and how many people he has helped. It’s because of these men in this room that Bryson’s killing spree was stopped and innocent lives were saved. There is no doubt about that fact.”

  “Don’t you want to tell the world that?”

  Ava simply shook her head and smiled. “The people that are my world already know it.”

  Stan didn’t seem like he knew how to reply to that, which was just as well. She was tired of dealing with him, and she was sure that the others were, too. He’d outstayed his welcome.

  Jared slapped a hand on Stan’s shoulder. “I saw a camera in your bag. We’re going to need all your photos of us before you leave.”

  Stan’s hold on his backpack tightened. “I don’t have to give you anything.”

  Ava was about to tell him off, but Presley beat her to it. “If you have any pictures of my minor children, even if they’re just in the background, you’re going to be whistling a different tune, pervert.”

  Stan went pale and shifted uncomfortably in the chair.

  “It’s pretty simple,” Logan said. “You hand over any photos and we won’t call the police about how you broke in. You want to write about those murders? You’re on your own. If we find you following us again, we’re not going to be nearly as nice.”

  The reporter crumpled, his entire body sagging. “Fine, but you’re being short-sighted. I could help you.”

  “I seriously doubt that,” Tanner said. “Now hand over the backpack.”

  What a crazy, no-good day.

  But that saying was true…

  It’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you.

  The bedside clock said four in the morning when Logan’s phone began vibrating and chiming. He cursed softly, hoping to grab it before it woke up Ava but he was too late. Blurry-eyed, she turned over with a groan and nudged his shoulder.

  “I don’t think it’s mine.”

  “No, it’s mine,” he said, reaching out his arm to feel for the phone on the nightstand. “Shit, who can be calling at this time of night?”

  Sitting up in bed, Ava yawned. “Technically, it’s the morning. Godforsaken early in the morning, but still the morning.”

  “The chickens aren’t even up yet,” Logan growled, checking the lit screen. Fuck, it was the security company that monitored their home’s alarm system. “It’s the security company.”

  “What on earth now? Were we robbed? That reporter couldn’t have made it to Seattle in the last few hours.”

  It probably didn’t have a thing to do with that idiot reporter who couldn’t imagine that anyone didn’t want their name in the goddamn newspaper or magazine. Even as they’d thrown him out, he’d been completely puzzled as to why they wouldn’t tell their story. He didn’t get it.

  But being robbed while on vacation was such a fucking cliche. Apparently, they were having an incredible run of bad luck, and this was going to be the cherry on the sundae.

  “Logan Wright,” he barked into the phone, his patience stretched thin. Their house was only filled with things that they could replace, not human lives, but it still didn’t help his mood. He put the phone on speaker so Ava could hear the conversation as well.

  He listened quietly as the man on the other end apologized profusely for waking him but the alarm at the house had gone off. They’d sent a patrol car there and it appeared that someone had thrown a brick through their front picture window. They hadn’t found any other damage, and no one was around. When they’d checked the cameras, they’d seen a car drive up, pause, and then a figure had stepped out and run up to the window, chucked the brick in, and then driven off.

  “Probably some teenagers playing a prank,” the man said. “We’ve been getting a lot of calls lately about knocked-over mailboxes and egged cars. It happens every summer when school is out. The kids get bored and act out.”

  Kids? Logan wasn’t convinced this was an innocent prank. After all, he didn’t like coincidences.

  “I’m not in the state at the moment,” Logan explained. “I’ll call and have someone come and board up the window. Reset the security system. Thanks for getting there and checking things out.”

  “No problem. I can leave one of my security guys here until someone comes if you like. The cops already left.”

  You get what you pay for.

  Logan had happily paid the high-priced fees for the state-of-the-art security system and monitoring. Now it would pay off as the house wouldn’t be left unattended until he could get someone out there. He’d call Ryan who didn’t live all that far and never fucking slept. He was probably awake right now.

  He hung up with the security company and immediately dialed Ryan while Ava went into the kitchen for a glass of water. While she was gone, he opened the security app and cued up the video on his phone, watching it silently. It wasn’t long and it was pretty much just as the security guy had described. A car had pulled in front of the house, a person had jumped out of the back seat and run onto the front lawn, throwing a brick into their window before running back to the car. It sped away, but since it was dark there was no way to read the license plate. The person had also been dressed in dark clothes and had kept their head down so the camera wouldn’t catch his or her face. Logan watched it a few times and decided that it was probably a male, but he wouldn’t bet the farm on it.

  “Ryan’s on his way to the house,” he said when she returned, handing him the glass. “He said he’ll take care of everything.”

  Ava glanced at the clock which now read four-twenty-three. “Ryan’s my hero this morning. We should have them over for dinner as a thank you. Should I just go ahead and make coffee? I don’t think we’re going back to sleep.”

  “I don’t think we are either. Fuck, this is a shitty way to start the day.”

  “We can sit on the balcony while the sun rises. Drink our coffee. It will be nice.”

  “Babe, the sun doesn’t rise for over two hours. What will we do until then?”

  Ava shrugg
ed. “Read the paper? I dunno, I guess we could look at the stars. Is there anything on television maybe?”

  This condo had over two hundred channels. There had to be something to kill the time.

  “I’ll start the coffee,” he replied, levering up from the bed and shoving his legs into a pair of sweatpants. “Hell, I’ll go ahead and make breakfast, too. The kids never eat in the morning anyway.”

  “You’re angry.”

  He stopped in the doorway at her words. She wasn’t wrong.

  “I am angry,” he admitted. “I was hoping to get a relaxing break on this vacation. That phone call wasn’t relaxing.”

  She was gazing at him, her head cocked to the side as if trying to read his mind. She was actually pretty damn good at it after all of these years.

  “You think it’s related to the murders.”

  His shoulders slumped. “I don’t know for sure. It’s just a coin—“

  “Coincidence,” she finished for him. “I know you don’t like those.”

  “I don’t,” he confirmed. “It’s all a little too convenient. The neighborhood we live in is one of the most boring in America. We’ve never had anything like this happen except for that Halloween where the kids TP-ed a few houses that didn’t give out candy.”

  “They skipped ours because you like to give out full-size candy bars.”

  He did like to do that. He always remembered when he was a kid how there was one house on his street that gave out full-size candy bars. That had been like gold to a child. He remembered how he looked forward to it and how exciting it was to see that huge bar of chocolate in his trick or treat bag. He wanted to create that feeling for other kids…so he gave out full-size candy bars at Halloween.

  Sue me. I enjoy it.

  “It’s just a little too suspect that something like this happened now,” he finally said.

  “I think you might be right but just remember that we have two teenagers. It could have been one of the kids from their school. Kids can be cruel to one another. We can ask them if everything is okay when they wake up. Maybe someone is bullying them online or they’ve had a falling out with one of their friends.”