Just in case, Layla unclipped the citronella spray from her belt and kept it in her hand.
As they rounded a curve in the trail, Elsie came to a sudden stop, which made Layla stumble. To her left, she saw a flash of movement. She’d barely started to pivot when someone jumped her, slamming her into the ground and knocking the wind from her.
A man. Black hoodie, ski mask over his face. He covered her mouth with his gloved hand, making it hard for her to breathe or scream. Though dazed, she struggled.
And then the dog took hold of him, all eighty pounds of her focused on defending Layla.
The assailant screamed as the shepherd sank her teeth into his leg. This gave Layla enough space to scramble out from under him. She used her citronella spray on the thug and, heart pounding, attempted to call Elsie off. She prayed the dog had learned enough to listen.
Luckily for them all, Elsie had. She released the now blubbering and bleeding man, though she stood guard over him with her teeth bared.
Layla dialed 911. Giving her location as succinctly as possible in her shaking voice, she left the line open, as the dispatcher instructed, while waiting for the police and EMTs to arrive. Someone must have notified the K9 training center as well, because two of the male trainers on duty came sprinting down the trail. They arrived before the police did and gave Elsie the command to leave it. She obeyed, albeit reluctantly, trotting to their side and sitting for a treat.
The rest happened in a blur. EMTs tended to the man’s leg wound, the police took Layla’s statement, the trainers checked Elsie over for wounds. Then her assailant was taken away, whether to go to the hospital or to the police station to be booked, Layla had no idea.
She wanted Hunter. Hands still shaking, she called him, but it went straight to voice mail. Instead of leaving a message, she hung up, intending to try again later. Maybe by then she would’ve regained her composure.
One of the officers asked her if she was all right. Layla nodded, then ruined it by crying. She turned away, hoping the other woman wouldn’t see.
“Come on, honey. Let’s get you someplace warm.” The female officer slipped her arm around Layla’s shoulders, gently steering her back toward Main Street.
Instinctively, Layla looked for Elsie, since the dog was in her charge, after all. But one of the trainers now held the leash, and when he saw Layla eyeing him, he gave her a small nod and told her to go. “We’ve got this,” he said.
As Layla walked back toward the training center with a uniformed police officer at her side, she once again longed for Hunter. These attacks—three now—were getting far too numerous. How had that man known she’d be out on the trail walking? Or had him jumping her just been random? Like a weird twist of fate. Nope, way too coincidental for her liking.
Once they reached the training center, the officer left her with several of the trainers. It wasn’t until she was gone that Layla realized she hadn’t even gotten the other woman’s name.
Shakily, she explained what had happened. Just as she finished, the others arrived back with Elsie. Of course everyone rushed to examine the dog, which gave Layla the opportunity to leave unnoticed.
But once in her car, she sat frozen with indecision. The trembling had returned and she could barely get the key in the ignition. She needed to leave, but where should she go? Hunter clearly was out somewhere, so his place would be empty. Not home, as her town house no longer felt safe. Not to her father’s, since she knew he was still vacationing in the tropics. The last thing she wanted right now was to be alone. Then she thought of Goose and understood if she went to Hunter’s, even with him gone, she wouldn’t be alone. Goose’s happy acceptance would be exactly what she needed to feel better. Even if what she really wanted was for Hunter to wrap her in his strong arms, hold her close, and tell her it was going to be all right.
She’d just pulled into Hunter’s driveway when her cell rang. Her heart squeezed as she checked caller ID, hoping it would be Hunter.
Instead, the display showed Hamlin Harrington’s aristocratic photo. Wondering what on earth he could possibly want, she answered.
“I heard you were mugged,” he said, his cultured tone sounding concerned.
Surprised, she took a deep breath before answering. “More like jumped. The assailant didn’t appear to be after any of my belongings.”
“Then what possible reason could he have for attacking you?”
She held her silence for a moment, hoping he’d think about his question and maybe the answer would magically sink in.
Instead, he seemed to take her lack of response for something else entirely. “Are you ashamed?” he asked. “Is that why you didn’t immediately call me?”
“Ashamed?” She practically spit out the word. “What on earth would I possibly have to be ashamed about? That makes absolutely no sense whatsoever.”
“I’m your fiancé.” His stern tone admonished her. “I know you’ve got a lot going on, fending off those sexual harassment allegations. Do you really need to add soliciting sex from strangers to the list?”
This statement so boggled the mind that she wanted to call him a few choice curse words before ending the call. Instead, she took another deep breath. “Hamlin, this isn’t going to work out.”
To her disbelief, he chuckled. “You’re telling me. I can get everything cleaned up for you, but after you become my wife, I’m going to require a bit more discretion.”
“That’s not what I meant. We aren’t going to work out. You and I. Being engaged. We need to end it now. I’m not going to marry you.”
“Of course you’re not. Not yet, at least. But I promise you, once that Groom Killer sicko is caught, I’ll let you have the most lavish wedding you ever dreamed of. I know you’re a bit shaken up, but I don’t want to hear any more foolish talk.”
Surely he wasn’t that stupid. Which meant he was being deliberately obtuse. “It’s over, Hamlin. I’m not going to marry you. Not now, not when the Groom Killer is caught, not ever.”
Silence, which meant her words had finally sunk in.
“Does your father know?” he asked, anger threading his voice. “I’m guessing not. How about I call him? I guarantee he’ll be on your doorstep ten minutes after I give him the bad news.”
There were so many ways she could answer that statement. Instead of giving in to temptation, she simply told Hamlin to have a nice day and ended the call.
Surprisingly, she felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. And since Hamlin had never gotten around to giving her an engagement ring, she didn’t have to deal with returning that.
Once she let herself into Hunter’s house, Goose came bounding over with her usual effusive greeting. After letting the dog out back, she gave Goose a treat and changed into a pair of comfortable leggings and her favorite flannel shirt.
Then she and Goose cuddled on the couch while she watched a home improvement show. Finally, Layla felt safe and warm and...at home. Stiff and sore, she told herself things were looking up now. The only other thing that could make the day better would be Hunter coming home. Hopefully, he would soon. She had a lot to discuss with him.
Chapter 14
When Hunter stepped into the squad room, the entire place erupted in cheers. By now, everyone had heard about his bust. They’d been after the Larsons for a long time, after all. His discovery was what they’d been searching for—the evidence to get an unbreakable conviction.
“We finally got them!” more than one officer exclaimed. Fist bumps and high fives made Hunter smile. Despite his lingering pain that Mae had clearly never been the person he’d believed her to be, shutting down those awful grandsons of hers had long been a dream. Now that dream had finally come true. Assuming they’d been rounded up. He wouldn’t put it past the sneaky bastards to have fled to Canada, letting their grandmother take all the heat for their actions.
“Are the Larson twins in custody yet?” he asked, crossing his fingers. When informed they were already being processed down at the jail, he grinned and gave the thumbs-up sign. He continued to smile until he remembered Mae would be there with them. While the thought of the older woman being locked up among hardened criminals disturbed him, he knew she had to make restitution for what she’d done. Of course, the entire family would probably bond out before they went to trial. The twins kept on retainer several expensive attorneys who were no doubt working hard behind the scenes to make sure they weren’t held too long. He hoped they weren’t immediately successful. He wouldn’t put it past the twins to simply disappear.
Once all the celebratory comments had died down, Hunter turned to make his way to his own desk and begin the arduous paperwork such a bust required. When he was halfway there, the chief stuck his head out and called Hunter to his office.
“Take a seat.”
A cold chill settled over him. He made no move to sit. “Don’t tell me something went wrong with the Larson bust,” he began.
“It’s not that.” Chief Colton gave him a long, considering look. “There’s been another attempt on Layla Colton,” he said.
Hunter froze. “What? When? I just saw her this morning.” Heart pounding, he gripped the edge of the door frame so hard his knuckles turned white. “Is she—”
Chief Colton held up his hand, interrupting. “Sit down. She’s fine.”
Legs weak, Hunter dropped into a chair. “What happened?”
“She was walking one of the police dog trainees. Some idiot tried to jump her from behind a tree. The dog took care of him.” He shook his head. “What kind of idiot tries to attack a woman when she’s accompanied by an eighty-plus-pound German shepherd?”
He had a point.
“Even stranger, it’s the same guy who claimed he witnessed Demi killing Xavier Wesley.”
“Paulie Gaines?” Stunned, Hunter leaned forward. The small-time drug dealer with a long rap sheet had been considered a barely credible witness at best. “This could be huge. Do we have him in custody? If so, I’d like first crack at him.”
The chief tilted his head and studied him. “I don’t think that’s wise. This is personal for you. I’ll have someone else question him.”
About to protest, Hunter realized the other man was right. Any attempt on Layla Colton was personal as hell. “Of course, I don’t want to jeopardize the investigation in any way. But I’d like to at least sit in and observe.”
“Behind the glass. Lucas Gage is in charge of this one.” Judging from the set of Chief Colton’s jaw and his no-nonsense, take-it-or-leave-it tone, that was as good as it was going to get. Lucas was a deputized bounty hunter for the RRPD and had gone after Paulie Gaines in the past, so they had something of a connection.
“I’ll take it,” Hunter responded. “Behind the glass.”
“Then you’d better head down to interrogation room three. He’s in there now, and Lucas is about to start questioning him.”
“Thanks.” Hunter took off. He arrived just as Gage took a seat across from the suspect. Paulie looked about the same as he had the last time Hunter had seen him. Permanently red eyes, with his face riddled by bloody marks where he’d picked at it, marking him as a tweaker—in other words, a meth addict. He wore a green sweatshirt with the hood pulled up.
Following standard procedure, Lucas asked Paulie to state his name, age and address. Instead, Paulie jumped to his feet. “Let me out of here,” he demanded. “You got nothin’ on me.”
Lucas motioned him back to the chair. “Sit. Because you’re wrong. Not only is the woman you attacked able to identify you, but a trained police dog took a chunk out of your leg. Let me tell you, our dogs don’t do something like that unless they have good reason. Do you follow?”
Slowly, Paulie nodded. At any moment, Hunter expected him to demand an attorney. But Paulie was either too cocky or too stupid, because he smirked at Lucas and then sat back down.
“I wanna make a deal.”
Even Lucas blinked at that. “What kind of a deal?” he asked.
“I know stuff,” Paulie boasted. “I can give you information in exchange for you dropping all my charges.”
“That’s now how this works,” Lucas replied. “First, how do I even know your information is accurate, never mind useful? And second, we can maybe discuss reducing the charges, not dropping them.”
Silence while Paulie digested this unwanted information. “Oh, yeah? Well, how about this? People have paid me to say and do things.” And then he sat back and crossed his arms, clearly pleased with himself.
As ambiguous as that statement might be, Hunter hoped Lucas realized the potential and pursued further.
“Paid you to do things?” Lucas frowned. “You mean like work? At a job?”
“No, man. Other things.”
Now Lucas pushed to his feet. Hands flat on the table, he leaned over the smaller man. “Back in January you claimed you saw Demi Colton shoot Bo Gage dead. Then you claimed you saw her shoot Xavier Wesley. Are those among the things?”
With a defiant smile, Paulie shrugged. “Could be. But you’ll have to make it worth my while if you want me to say anything else.”
“Oh, yeah?” Lucas snarled. “Bo Gage was family. So help me, if you lied about what you saw and who you say you saw kill him, you’d better speak up right now. Or things are going to get a hell of a lot worse for you.”
Judging from the way Paulie appeared to shrink back into his hoodie, he believed every word. Hunter had to hand it to Lucas. That was the mark of a good interrogator.
“Well?” Lucas demanded when Paulie didn’t speak. “Did you really see Demi Colton shoot Bo?”
Slowly, Paulie shook his head. “No.”
Damn. Hunter had to give Lucas credit. There went the basis of the hunt for Demi. Yet Lucas remained professional, his stone face giving nothing away.
“Then why’d you say you did?”
“Money, dude. I got paid five large to say that.” Paulie’s dreamy smile told them exactly what he’d done with his payment.
“By who?”
“Dunno.”
Hunter could imagine how Lucas must be grinding his teeth. The frustration was mutual.
“What do you mean, you don’t know? How were you paid?” Lucas asked.
“Cash. A bag full of it. I talked to the guy on the phone—no idea how he got my number. Once I’d done what he wanted, he sent a bag full of money by some courier service. It was cool. I signed for it and everything.”
Hunter could see Lucas making notes. Another lead—a damn good one, in fact. It could be entirely possible that the actual Groom Killer had hired Paulie to frame Demi. Meanwhile, Paulie appeared to have no idea of the impact of what he’d done.
On top of that, Lucas still hadn’t gotten to Paulie’s attack on Layla.
“You’re in a lot of trouble, you know,” Lucas informed the younger man. “Lying about a shooting is bad enough, and I can promise you we’ll come back to that. But I also want to know why you attacked Layla Colton.”
Paulie made a face. “Isn’t it obvious? Duh. More money. Even though she had that stupid dog with her, it’s worth it for another five grand.”
At this, Lucas sat up straighter. “The same person who asked you to lie about witnessing a murder wanted you to jump Layla?”
Another half-hearted shrug. “I guess. Yeah, I mean it was the same deal. I got a phone call, told what I needed to do and promised payment. Only I ain’t gotten my money yet, on account of being arrested.” He glared at Lucas, as if to say he felt it was the other man’s fault.
Unable to contain himself any longer, Hunter rapped three times on the window, one of the signals RRPD used to let an interrogator know someone wanted to share information.
Lucas glanced at the mirrored glas
s and nodded. After ordering Paulie to sit tight, he popped around the corner into the viewing room.
“Hunter.” Lucas shook his head. “Did you hear that? Sorry about Layla. I know you and she are—”
“Friends,” Hunter interjected. “And thanks. She’s actually been attacked several times, so I’d be interested to know if Paulie was behind all of them.”
“I can sure ask.”
“Thank you.” Hunter exhaled. “But that’s actually not all of what I wanted to talk to you about. Paulie claims he only knows this guy by his voice. Would you mind playing a recording for him and seeing if it’s the same guy?”
“Sure.” Lucas appeared intrigued. “Who do you have in mind?”
“Devlin Harrington,” Hunter replied. “And since we just arrested him on something else and are waiting for the warrant to go through so we can search his office, I just happen to have a recording of him on the phone. Let me go get it from my desk.”
Lucas nodded. Hunter wondered briefly why the other officer didn’t appear surprised, but figured maybe he hadn’t been the only one who’d thought something was off with Devlin.
After jogging to his desk and back, he found Lucas still waiting. “It’s good to let the little bastard cool his heels.” He jerked his head toward Paulie. “You know, I really wondered why someone was trying to harm Layla. She isn’t a threat to anyone. But when you throw Devlin Harrington into the mix, it all starts to make sense.”
Hunter nodded. “Right? Clearly, Devlin doesn’t want her marrying his father.”
“But what about the rest of it? Why would Devlin want to frame Demi Colton as the Groom Killer?”
Handing Lucas the thumb drive for him to insert into a small audio player, Hunter grimaced. “Guess we’d better not get ahead of ourselves. First, we’ve got to make sure it actually was Devlin calling Paulie and giving him orders. Once we know that for sure, then we can speculate as to motive.”
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