Protective Order

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Protective Order Page 8

by Rita Herron


  She barely resisted slugging him. He sounded like Robert. “Have you dated anyone else from Whistler?”

  His smile disappeared. “What does that matter?”

  “Just wondering if there’s an old flame around who’d get jealous if she saw us together?”

  “No one at the moment.” His eyes darkened. “It pains me to say the last woman I was seeing died suddenly.”

  Ginny bit her lip to stifle a reaction. “Oh, my goodness. You weren’t seeing that pretty woman named Joy, were you? I arrived in town the day after she died in that horrible fire.”

  The ice in his drink clinked as he lifted it for a sip. “Did you know her?”

  She shook her head. “No, I just saw the news. I heard she liked to play around.”

  His hands tightened into fists on the table. “That’s what I’m talking about. Women who aren’t faithful. I can’t tolerate that.”

  If the woman he’d dated was Joy, he’d just confirmed a motive for murder.

  He reached for her hand and stroked her fingers. “But you wouldn’t be like that, would you, June? You wouldn’t lie to a man?”

  She had had enough. He wasn’t Robert, but he was despicable anyway. She pushed away from the table and stood. “You know, Karl, I don’t think this is going to work.”

  He tightened his fingers around her wrist so hard she winced. “What? Aren’t you going to give me a chance?”

  She gritted her teeth. “I just don’t feel like we’re right for each other.” She yanked at her hand to pull free, but his grip grew more intense.

  “That’s not fair, June. Sit back down—”

  “Let the woman go.”

  Ginny gritted her teeth as she looked up and found Griff staring down at her and Karl with a lethal expression on his chiseled face.

  * * *

  NOTHING RILED GRIFF more than a bully manhandling a woman. And this creep looked as if he’d gone from friendly to psycho possessive in seconds.

  The man released Ginny’s wrist then angled his head and shot Griff a venomous look. “Who the hell are you?”

  Griff fisted his hands by his sides. Resorting to physical force wasn’t his style, but if it meant protecting Ginny and he was provoked, he wouldn’t back down either. This jerk was decent-size, but he could take him in a skinny minute.

  “A friend of the lady’s,” Griff said coldly.

  Ginny shot him an irritated look and absentmindedly rubbed at her wrist, which was red from the man’s tight grip.

  “I can handle this, Griff,” she said stiffly.

  He arched a brow in challenge. Did she know this jerk? Was she actually going to defend him?

  Karl shoved his chair back. “What is this? Some kind of hustle?” He narrowed his eyes at Ginny. “You plan a date, then your boyfriend jumps in for fun?”

  Shock flashed across Ginny’s face at the implication. “No. But this date is over.”

  She snatched her purse, threw it over her shoulder and brushed past Karl and Griff.

  Karl stood as if to go after her, but Griff blocked his path. “You heard her. It’s over. Touch her again and you’ll answer to me, someone more your size.”

  Karl squared his shoulders, anger radiating from him. “Don’t worry. She’s not my type anyway.”

  Griff barely resisted the urge to punch the jerk. Instead, he stepped back and went after Ginny himself. The music blared louder from the bar area, and a line dance had kicked up, boots pounding the scarred wooden floor.

  He hurried out the door and searched the parking lot. Ginny was climbing in her car, so he jogged over and caught the door just before she could close it. Her eyes widened, a sliver of fear darkening the depths that made him feel like a heel. He threw his hands up to indicate he meant no harm.

  “Are you okay?” he asked gruffly.

  Her breathing rasped out. “Yes. And by the way, I had the situation under control.” Stubborn pride laced her voice.

  “Of course, you did,” he said. “But when I see a man roughhousing a woman, I can’t help but step in. My father taught me to respect women.”

  His comment seemed to soften the defensive expression on her face. “Then thank you. But I really was fine.”

  He leaned closer to her in the open doorway of the car. “What was that about anyway? I thought you were just visiting town. Did you know that man?”

  She cut her eyes away, avoiding him, then flexed her fingers around the steering wheel as if debating on how to respond. Finally, she sighed and looked back at him. “I don’t want to talk about it here. Meet me back at the inn.”

  She bit her bottom lip, then started the engine. But she scanned the parking lot as she pulled away. Was she afraid the man inside would follow her?

  Or was she was running from someone else?

  * * *

  GINNY DROVE TO the inn, relieved to see that Karl Cross didn’t follow her. As stern as she might have been, Griff was much more intimidating.

  Although why had he come to her rescue? She didn’t think he liked her or wanted to talk to her. Had he followed her to the bar?

  She parked and climbed out, her nerves on edge. Had Robert snuck back inside the room?

  Griff parked behind her and walked over to her car. “Let’s meet in the parlor,” Ginny said. “There’s wine and coffee at the buffet in the evenings.”

  Griff walked beside her as they made their way up the path to the porch. The earlier rain was dissipating, yet the wind had picked up again, blowing leaves across the lawn and sending the wind chimes on the porch into motion. The tinkling reminded her of the holidays when she and Tess had been children and had enjoyed their mother’s endless litany of jingle bells that she strung everywhere. Her mother bought them silly Christmas socks every year to wear for their annual Christmas pajama photo by the tree. When she was six and Tess was four, they’d separated to choose each other’s presents and ended up buying each other the same book of paper dolls.

  Tears burned the backs of her eyelids. Each memory of her sister refueled her rage and anger.

  Griff opened the door, and they entered the lobby, then made their way to the parlor. Thankfully it was deserted so they had the room to themselves.

  She poured a glass of wine for herself, then offered Griff one from the buffet. He shook his head and chose coffee, then joined her in the seating area. The wine helped soothe her jangled nerves as she warmed herself by the fire.

  Griff seated himself across from her in the big club chair. “Come on, Ginny. Who was that man?”

  “I had a date,” she admitted.

  He raised a brow. “You came for a story and now you’re dating? I don’t understand.”

  He didn’t have to, but he obviously wasn’t going to let it go. Her plan to use him hadn’t worked at all. He was too damn smart.

  “I told you that I received a tip from an abuse victim,” Ginny said. “She met the man online through one of those dating sites.”

  Griff’s jaw tightened. “Let me guess. You joined that site hoping to meet that creep?”

  Ginny ran her finger along the rim of her glass. “Like I said earlier, he disappeared. She’s terrified he’s looking for her.”

  Griff cleared his throat. “Did you get a description of the man?”

  Ginny shifted. “Medium build, sandy-blondish hair, dressed well. He likes nice restaurants and wine.”

  Griff tensed. “The bartender gave a similar description of a man Joy was in there with once. He thought his name was Winston or William.”

  Ginny paused with her glass halfway to her lips. “He said his name was Karl Cross. He became defensive when I asked about Joy, and he said the last woman he dated died suddenly.”

  “I’ll ask Jacob and Liam to investigate him.”

  Ginny traced a finger around the rim of her glass. “I told you I don’
t want to talk to the cops. Whatever I share with you is confidential.”

  Griff made a low sound of frustration in his throat. “For God’s sake, Ginny, I’m just trying to help. You have to get over this paranoia about the police.”

  “That’s impossible when this woman’s attacker bought off a cop to find out where she was hiding, and he nearly killed her.”

  Tension charged the air between them. “I’m sorry that happened, but I assure you my brothers are decent. They’ll do everything they can to track down this bastard and make him pay.”

  Ginny leaned forward, desperate to believe him.

  But his brothers would only get in her way.

  * * *

  GRIFF STUDIED GINNY for a moment. Although he sensed she’d told him multiple lies, if what she’d said about the cop accepting a bribe was true, he understood her distrust of the law. Arguing with her would only push her further away. He’d learn more by keeping her close and agreeing to work with her. “All right, I’ll keep your confidence,” he replied. “But trust works both ways. You aren’t allowed to print anything I tell you unless I clear it with Jacob first.”

  Ginny pasted on her game face. “Of course.”

  “Do you think the man you met tonight was the same one who attacked your source?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. But have your brother check him out. If he dated Joy, he might be the man you’re hunting.”

  “What online dating site did you use?”

  Ginny stretched out her legs. “Meet Your Mate.”

  Seeing that man put his hands on Ginny bothered Griff more than he wanted to admit. He told himself his reaction was simple protective instincts that he’d feel for any woman, but something about the pained note in Ginny’s voice tore at his heartstrings on a more personal level.

  “You’re playing with fire by trying to lure this predator,” he said huskily.

  Ginny finished her wine and stood. “You’re not going to change my mind. So, remember our deal.”

  He clenched his jaw as she walked away, removed his phone from his belt and punched Liam’s number to ask him to dig up everything he could on Karl Cross and that dating site. He’d also ask him to look at other cases involving strangulation and arson.

  Like it or not, he didn’t intend to let Ginny use herself as bait and get herself killed.

  Chapter Nine

  Ginny watched Griff leave with a mixture of admiration and trepidation. He was a strong man. Could be dangerous. She’d seen that flare of temper in his eyes when he’d ordered Karl to release his grip on her. And he’d pinned her with a stare that made her feel uncomfortable.

  Yet as much as she hesitated to trust him, she didn’t think he’d hurt her. At least not physically. His protective streak seemed to be for her, not in a possessive way, but in the chivalrous way she’d only seen in the movies.

  Could it be real?

  It didn’t matter. She was here for one reason and one reason only. To find the man who’d killed her sister. As soon as she reached her room, she’d call that real estate developer again. Maybe if she was persistent enough, he’d return her call.

  Moving on autopilot, she scanned the main lobby of the inn as she approached the stairs. Not that she thought Karl Cross would have followed her here, but a woman could never be too careful. One lunatic in her life was enough.

  Another reason to avoid men.

  She’d just made a deal with one though. To share information, nothing more.

  She mulled over the tidbit Griff had shared. The man Joy was with at the bar could have been Robert. If he’d gone by William or Winston, maybe she could find his profile on the dating site.

  A light rain began to fall again, and fog formed on the picture windows in the front. For a moment, her vision blurred, and she thought she saw a man standing by the trees flanking the drive.

  He wore a long dark trench coat and hat and seemed to be staring at her.

  Robert?

  Heart pounding, she slid her hand over her purse, then reached inside for her weapon. The wind kicked up, trees swaying outside. A tree branch snapped at the windowpane. Rain fell, fat drops splattering the glass.

  She hurried to the front door but when she opened it, there was no one there.

  Heaving a breath, she shut the door, turned and fled toward the stairs. Her foot slid on the slick wood, and she grabbed the rail to steady herself, then forced herself to slow down as she climbed to the second floor. If Robert was out there, he was gone. At least for the moment.

  She glanced down the hall at the top of the stairs to make sure he hadn’t somehow gotten inside, then hurried toward her room. Hands trembling, she fumbled with her key, then jammed it in the lock and opened the door. The cloying scent of Robert’s aftershave still clung to the air. Or was it fresh?

  Entering on shaky legs, she pulled her gun and scanned the sitting area then rounded the alcove to the bed. A cry lodged in her throat at the sight of the white lilies lying on the bed.

  Lilies are for purity, Robert had said. Just like I want you to be pure for me.

  Tears spilled over as she surveyed the room and eased toward the bathroom. A bath had been run. Rose petals floated in the water. A bottle of champagne sat on the bathroom counter with two champagne flutes waiting.

  And then the note.

  Sleep tight, love. Soon you’ll be in my arms again. Very soon.

  * * *

  GRIFF PHONED JACOB to relay his conversation with Ginny as soon as he made it to his cabin.

  “Did she mention where this attack happened? In North Carolina or another state?” Jacob asked.

  Dammit, he should have probed her for more information, but his specialty was to extinguish and investigate fires, not serve as a detective in a homicide investigation. “No. The next time I see her I can find out. But since she’s from Asheville, it’s probable that it occurred in North Carolina.”

  “I’ll ask Liam to look for a case that fits this scenario.”

  Griff entered his house and punched in the code to the alarm. “Anything on the forensics from the last fire?”

  “The lab just called. They have a match on some prints. A couple of teenagers at the high school. A kid named Jerome Miller who was caught shoplifting cigarettes at a gas station, and Randy Henner. Randy was caught driving without a license.”

  “Both are petty crimes, and a big jump to escalate to arson,” Griff said.

  “I know. If these teens are already taking risks and looking for a rush, booze might have triggered their behavior to escalate.”

  “Boys will be boys getting out of hand,” Griff muttered.

  “Maybe. The assembly at the school is tomorrow at ten. I contacted the principal and told her I plan to question the boys afterward.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “One more thing, Griff. Bring a picture of Ginny if you can get one, and Liam can run it so we can find out who she really is.”

  An uneasy feeling tightened Griff’s chest. He didn’t like spying on anyone behind their back. But Ginny was playing a dangerous game, and he didn’t want her to get hurt, so he agreed.

  Maybe Liam would confirm she was exactly who she claimed to be, and that he could trust her.

  He told Jacob about the dating site. “If Joy met her killer on this site, we need to explore it.”

  “I’ll call forensics again and see if they’ve been able to recover anything from Joy’s computer.” Jacob paused. “See you tomorrow.”

  Griff muttered agreement, then poured himself a whiskey. He needed some sleep, but how could he sleep when he was worried a killer might be targeting Ginny?

  * * *

  GINNY STOOD FROZEN and trembling, reliving every horrific memory of Robert in her head as the rose petals bobbed gently across the bathwater.

  When they’d first met, R
obert had turned her head with flattering compliments and sweet nothings he’d whispered in her ear. He’d wined and dined her and promised to support her while she finished her degree. He’d carried her shopping bags at designer boutiques and lavished her with expensive jewelry to ensure she dressed in style.

  She’d insisted she didn’t need fancy clothes or jewelry, that she was a simple girl who liked homemade meals and quiet nights, one who dreamed of a family of her own someday.

  He’d given those words lip service, but three months into the relationship, he announced he didn’t want children, and he certainly didn’t want her body to be disfigured with a pregnancy. Appearances mattered to him. She had to work out. Diet. Learn how to dress and behave.

  Be the perfect wife.

  That meant looking good on his arm and entertaining his friends and clients in the home he intended to design for them. A glass house where she would have to tiptoe around on eggshells for the rest of her life.

  She’d realized then that they weren’t a match. Home was about family and loving each other, not being perfect or about surface appearances or impressing rich strangers who tossed money around like it was nothing.

  That night she’d told him so, and he’d become irate. Told her she owed him and should be grateful for all he’d done for her.

  That he would never let her go.

  She lifted her fingers and traced them across her throat, a suffocating feeling overcoming her as she recalled his fingers pressing into her vocal cords. His words had hammered home her reservations and she’d decided she had to leave. When he’d found her packing, he’d announced she had to be taught a lesson then he’d tried to strangle her.

  She’d screamed and fought him, but he’d dug his fingers into her windpipe and for a moment she’d almost passed out. But in the struggle, she’d managed to grab a lamp and she’d smashed it against his head. He released her and she’d run for the door, but he’d chased her down, then given her a beating she’d never forget.

 

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