Protective Order

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Protective Order Page 12

by Rita Herron

“He was nice and charming at first, showered me with compliments and gifts, wined and dined me, bought me expensive jewelry and designer clothes.”

  “And then?”

  “Then he became possessive.” She drummed her fingers over her arms. “He alienated me from Tess, from friends. All he cared about was how I looked on his arm and that I become the doting wife.” Her skin crawled at the memories of his voice as he tightened his fingers around her wrists and crawled on top of her.

  “One day I’d had enough and told him I was leaving, but he...didn’t take it well.”

  Griff’s lips curled into a frown. “He hit you?”

  Shame reddened her cheeks. “He beat the hell out of me. But with the first blow, I knew I had to get away from him.”

  “God, Ginny.” He reached for her, but she threw up her hands. She didn’t want to be touched right now. Didn’t want his pitying look. “Did you go to the police?” he asked.

  She shifted from foot to foot. “I followed the rules and filed a protective order. But that only incensed him. He began stalking me. Following me everywhere I went. Showing up at the coffee shop and at school where I was enrolled in journalism classes. He left little gifts to remind me he was watching me. He was always watching.” A shudder coursed through her. “When his gifts and notes and romantic gestures didn’t work, he followed me to my apartment one night and broke in. That night I wound up in the ER. He told the doctors I fell down the staircase.”

  A muscle ticked in Griff’s jaw. “Did the police arrest him?”

  “Yes. He spent a few hours in lockup, but he had money and friends with deep pockets. By nightfall, he was back at my place and enraged that I had the gall to have him put in handcuffs. He said I’d pay.” And she had.

  With her sister’s life.

  Griff folded his hands together. “Then what happened?”

  “I asked the police for protective custody, but they didn’t have the manpower. I moved, created a new identity and thought I’d escaped, but he bribed a cop and found me again.”

  So that part of the story was true. “No wonder you don’t trust the police,” Griff said.

  “That time, he tied me up and left me for days, so I’d learn my lesson.” Her heart hammered. “Finally, I managed to untie myself and crawled out the window. I drove to Tess’s to stay with her until I could figure out what to do. On my way though, he called and said he warned me I’d be sorry.” Her breath caught in her chest at the sound of his sinister voice leaving that message on the phone. “When I got to Tess’s house, it was on fire. I ran in to save her, but it was too late.” Tears choked her voice as the image of Tess’s pale, lifeless face surfaced.

  “So, you see now. My sister would still be alive if I hadn’t been such a fool and gone out with him.”

  * * *

  GRIFF HAD SENSED Ginny was lying, that there was a story behind that scar on her wrist, but he hadn’t considered she was an abuse victim or that a maniac had murdered her sister. No wonder she’d taken self-defense classes.

  “Did the police investigate your sister’s murder?” Griff asked.

  “They did, but they didn’t find his prints in the place or evidence proving it was him. Then he disappeared.”

  “And you think he came here, that he connected with Joy and murdered her?”

  “It fits,” she said in a pained whisper.

  Griff gestured toward the flower petals she’d raked on the floor. “He did all this, too.”

  “He’s cruel, likes to taunt me. He wants me to know that I can’t escape him, and that he’ll punish me again.”

  Griff raked a hand through his hair, his anger boiling.

  “He has to pay,” Ginny murmured. “I have to make him pay.”

  If someone had killed one of his brothers, he’d be out of his mind with rage and grief, too.

  “He used to leave rose petals on my bed and in my bath,” she said, her voice adopting a faraway sound as if she was trying to distance herself from the memories. “He also left a message on the mirror yesterday written in the same shade of lipstick he forced me to wear.”

  “Have you seen him in town?” Griff asked.

  “Not exactly,” she admitted. “I felt like he was following me. And when I fell the other day—”

  “He pushed you?” Griff cursed. “Dammit, Ginny, why didn’t you tell me?”

  Emotions darkened her eyes. “Having a stalker is not exactly something to go around bragging about. Besides, I had to make sure he was here. That real estate developer might have murdered Joy because she was the holdout on his deal.”

  “Jacob is looking into that angle.” Griff’s mind raced as he added everything up. “The dating site—you went there to try to find him.” Not a question, but a statement.

  “He used it once. I thought he might try again, and I could find him.”

  “And then what?” He clenched his hands by his sides to keep from shaking her. “Dammit, Ginny, it’s too dangerous.”

  “Someone has to stop him,” she cried. “He murdered my sister in cold blood and ruined my life.” She began to pace, swinging her hands frantically. “I changed my name, my looks, everything about myself, but he’s still after me.”

  “Your name, it isn’t Ginny Bagwell?”

  Regret flared in her expression. “No.”

  Anger railed through him. What kind of life had she lived since her sister’s murder? Looking over her shoulder at every turn just as she had when he’d seen her in town. Grieving over her sister’s death. Probably tormented by guilt. And fear.

  This man was dangerous. Deadly dangerous.

  “I’m sorry for what happened to you,” Griff said softly. “But you can’t face him alone. Let me help you.”

  “It’s not your problem,” Ginny said matter-of-factly.

  Griff inched toward her, careful not to touch or push her. Now that he understood her reticence, he didn’t want to frighten her.

  “I’m making it my problem,” Griff said. “You may have dealt with dirty or incompetent cops before, but my brothers are not them. Jacob and Liam, he’s with the FBI, will find this bastard and this time he’ll pay for what he did.”

  She rubbed her fingers over her temple, the bruise on her cheek darkening to purple. “You don’t understand, Griff,” Ginny said, her voice laced with panic. “I don’t want you involved. He’ll kill you if he thinks you’re helping me.”

  * * *

  GINNY COULDN’T LIVE with another person’s death on her conscience.

  “I can take care of myself,” Griff said. “But we have to talk to Jacob and Liam. If this man is in town, he has to be stopped before he hurts you or someone else.”

  Ginny’s stomach fluttered. She had to do whatever necessary to keep him from killing another woman.

  Confiding in the police would throw a kink in her plan for revenge, but saving lives took priority over her own need to see him suffer.

  “Tell me his name, Ginny. And if you have a picture of him, that would be helpful.”

  She didn’t want to involve them, but she saw no choice. “I knew him as Robert Bouldercrest, but I doubt he goes by that name now. I’ve looked for him on social media and dating sites and Googled him, but nothing shows up.”

  “Liam has sources at the FBI,” Griff pointed out. “What did this man do for a living?”

  “Investments,” she said. “That’s the reason I thought he might be posing as Thad Rigden, the real estate developer. Robert used to brag that he swooped in on failing businesses and small towns, bought up the property and turned it into gold.”

  “But you met Rigden and it wasn’t him?”

  “No, it wasn’t. He seemed like a cutthroat business guy, but he definitely was not Robert.”

  “Do you have a picture of Robert?” Griff asked.

  “I’m afraid not.”<
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  “You didn’t take photographs of the two of you together?” Griff sounded surprised.

  “We did, but the night he tied me up, he confiscated my phone. After I escaped, I bought burner ones hoping he couldn’t track me down. And when I looked up his old profile on Meet Your Mate, he’d removed it.”

  “How about a sketch? Can you draw one?”

  “I’m not a very good artist.”

  “Jacob’s wife, Cora, is. If you can describe him for her, she can draw a composite.”

  Ginny hesitated. “I don’t want to involve anyone else, Griff. He might hurt them.”

  “Trust me, we’ll take precautions. I’d never do anything to jeopardize Jacob’s family.”

  Trust had not been part of her vocabulary for years. But Griff sounded so sincere that she relented.

  “I’ll call Jacob and make the arrangements. We could meet here.”

  “He knows I’m staying at the inn,” Ginny pointed out.

  “True. Then we’ll go to Liam’s,” Griff said. “He lives out of town in the mountains. He can come here and see if Robert left prints.”

  “The police already have his prints,” Ginny said. “And I know it’s him. He left a clear message for me.”

  A tense second passed, then Griff phoned his brother while she found a small broom in the closet and swept up the rose petals. She cleaned the bathroom as well, then glanced at herself in the mirror. The bruise looked stark on her cheek, her eyes glassy with fear.

  Hating the fact that she looked like a victim, she retrieved her purse and dabbed powder on her cheeks to cover the bruise. She finger-combed the tangles from her hair, then found Griff waiting in the entry of the room.

  “We’re meeting in half an hour at Liam’s. Are you ready to go?”

  No. She’d never be ready. She’d have to hash over her story again. Face the sympathetic faces, the condemning looks. Tell them she’d gotten her sister killed.

  Hatred for Robert mounted inside her. Still, if he’d killed Joy Norris, he might kill again—before he got to her. She couldn’t take the chance on not cooperating.

  She riffled through her suitcase, snagged a snow cap and scarf as a disguise, then followed Griff outside to his truck. She scanned the area, and so did he, but no one seemed to be lurking around. Although Robert could be hiding in the trees behind the inn. Or in one of the cars parked on the street.

  She buckled her seat belt and kept an eye out as Griff pulled onto the road leading out of town. He repeatedly checked his rearview mirror. A black sedan seemed to be following them through town as they veered to the road winding toward the mountain. But Griff sped into a side street, and the car moved on.

  Tension coiled inside her as he wound up the mountain road. The sharp drop-offs, ridges and switchbacks reminded her she was living on the edge.

  “Tell me about Jacob’s wife,” Ginny said.

  Griff cleared his throat. “Her name is Cora. She was married to another man a few years ago and delivered a baby girl, but that baby was kidnapped during the hospital fire that killed my father.”

  Ginny released a soft gasp. “That’s horrible.”

  “It was,” he said with a sigh. “Anyway, Cora’s marriage fell apart after the kidnapping, but she never gave up looking for her daughter. A few months ago, my brother reopened the case and found her little girl, so she and Cora were reunited.”

  “And now she’s married to your brother?”

  “Yep. And expecting a baby.”

  At least Cora’s nightmare had ended. Although Ginny couldn’t imagine losing a child and all the years Cora had missed with her. Memories she could never get back.

  A strained silence fell between them as he drove, and he seemed deep in thought. Or maybe he was just concentrating on the road.

  When they finally reached the turnoff for his brother Liam’s mountain home, she realized it was isolated. The two-story log house sat at the top of a hill with a spectacular view of the mountain ridges and river. Jacob’s squad car was already parked in the graveled drive.

  Anxiety tightened her belly as she and Griff walked up to the house. Trees swayed in the wind, the backdrop of the mountain so scenic that her heart gave another pang. Tess would have loved it. She would have painted it with wildflowers dotting the mountains and the front yard in soft shades of colors like a watercolor palette.

  Griff’s brother Liam greeted them at the door and introduced himself, then Jacob introduced his wife, Cora. She was pretty and kind looking. When she laid a hand on her pregnant belly, the joy on her face was undeniable.

  “Griff explained the situation. I’m sorry for what you’ve been through,” Liam said. “I’m already talking with analysts at the Bureau to see if we can track down Bouldercrest.”

  The agent’s direct approach was comforting. Cora gestured for her to sit on the leather sofa by the fire and offered her hot tea. Ginny accepted, grateful for the warmth to alleviate the chill that had become a permanent part of her.

  “I’m so sorry for everything that’s happened to you,” Cora said softly. “I can’t imagine.”

  “And I can’t imagine how you suffered when your little girl was missing.”

  Cora smiled. “We are a pair, aren’t we?”

  “We are.” Ginny relaxed and sipped the tea. They’d both suffered in their own way, but Cora was strong and had survived.

  She would survive, too. Keeping Robert from hurting another woman was key to that survival.

  * * *

  HE HAD BEEN watching her for days. Mitzi was friendly. Pretty. Talked to everyone and treated each customer like a friend.

  He’d seen Ginny—Reese—with her in that café. Wondered what she’d told the other woman. If she’d warned her about men like him.

  Laughter sounded in his throat as he lifted the lighter and flicked it. The short flame that burst to life made his body jump with excitement. Night had fallen. Ginny had found her presents.

  He’d seen her with that same man again. The firefighter.

  If she thought she could hook up with some other man, she was wrong. She had to be taught another lesson.

  That if she didn’t come back to him, he’d just keep killing.

  Let her think about that tonight when she heard about poor Mitzi.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Griff jammed his hands into his jeans’ pockets as he glanced at Ginny. She’d been riddled with anxiety on the drive over. Who could blame her?

  Her psycho ex-boyfriend had abused her, stalked her and killed her sister. All in the name of love.

  No wonder she had trust issues.

  Before they got started, Fletch and Jade showed up to join them, and Griff introduced everyone.

  “Fletch works search and rescue on the trail,” he told Ginny. “And Jade is a detective. She has connections to people in Asheville.”

  Ginny said hello but twisted her hands together. “I didn’t realize your entire family would be here.”

  “Our family works together when there’s a problem,” Griff explained. “If your stalker is hiding out on the trail, Fletch needs to know what he looks like so he can keep an eye out. He also knows places the jerk might hide off-the-grid.”

  “I can’t imagine Robert camping or staying in the woods,” Ginny said. “He has high-class tastes.”

  “I’ll start researching hotels and inns where he might rent a room,” Jade offered.

  Ginny lapsed into silence, and Cora pulled a sketch pad from a quilted shoulder bag. “Why don’t we get started now?”

  Griff and his brothers stepped aside and gathered around the breakfast bar where Liam had his laptop open. Jade joined them to learn the details of the case.

  “I don’t like the fact that she lied to you and to me,” Jacob told Griff. “That she came here knowing who killed Joy and kept it to herself.


  “She didn’t know for certain it was him,” Griff said in her defense. “How could she? It’s not like he called her and admitted he killed Joy.”

  “She still should have come to me,” Jacob said stubbornly.

  Griff explained about Robert Bouldercrest bribing a cop to find her. “It took all my persuasive efforts to convince her to talk to you tonight.”

  Liam gave him a grim look. “I’ve pulled everything I could find on the Tess Taggart case. She definitely was strangled prior to the fire. There was no way Ginny could have saved her that night.”

  “Unless she’d stayed with Bouldercrest,” Griff pointed out. “Which was not an option. Eventually he would have killed her.”

  “That’s true,” Jade cut in. “Abusers are narcissistic, obsessive and territorial. They treat women like they’re possessions and have the mentality that if they can’t have a woman, no one else will.”

  Relief tapped at Griff’s mounting frustration. Protecting Ginny seemed daunting. But with his brothers’ help, his tension eased slightly.

  “Did she find proof that Joy was involved with this man Robert?” Liam asked.

  Griff shook his head. “According to her, Joy resembled the way she used to look before she changed her appearance and went into hiding. That tipped her off to come here.”

  Liam turned to his computer and pulled up a photo. Griff’s heart stuttered at the sight of the auburn-haired beauty on the screen. She looked young and optimistic, her green eyes glowing with happiness and the promise of a future.

  “That was Ginny, aka Reese Taggart, five years ago,” Liam said.

  “Before she met Bouldercrest.” And dyed her hair black. She must be wearing colored contacts, as well. He’d thought she was pretty when he’d met her, but she was stunning in that photograph. Had she intentionally played down her looks so as not to attract attention from Robert or any other man?

  A well of sadness dug a hole in Griff’s chest. What woman should have to live like that?

  None. Certainly not Ginny.

  Or Reese Taggart.

 

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