He pulled himself out of the dark place his mind had headed and focused back on Harper in the here and now. He’d meant to help her. Not get distracted in the dark shadows of his past. Seeing Harper like this, what she was putting herself through, brought clarity to the past. He shouldn’t hold himself responsible for what happened.
“Why are you so hard on yourself?” she asked.
“I could ask you the same question.”
“I don’t know . . . I guess I want to do more to help. Not simply document evidence after the damage has been done and someone has been hurt or murdered. I don’t want to see the violence, turn in my photos, and turn away at the end of the day. But I don’t know what more I can do, Heath.”
“I wish I could tell you. I don’t want to suggest that you put yourself in harm’s way to find justice, but I understand why you feel you need to. And I’ll be right here with you through it all.”
He leaned over the railing next to her as they both enjoyed the colorful display of clouds reflecting the setting sun. She was close enough now that he could feel the warmth coming off her. Heath wanted to put his arm around her and comfort her, but his desire went much deeper than simple comfort.
“Heath.” His name from her lips had barely been a whisper and stirred him.
He tilted his head toward her.
A breeze lifted a few strands of her red hair and swept them across her face. Her eyes were soft as she smiled at him. Then she turned to face him completely, still so near.
“Thank you, Heath. It means the world to me that you’re here. I mean, I know it’s your job, but I can’t help but think there’s more to it. Would you be here, Heath, if you weren’t a deputy?”
Her eyes searched for the truth in him. He sensed she wouldn’t have asked the question if she didn’t already know the answer, but she wanted to hear those words from him. Sharing their deepest, darkest moments had brought them closer.
“Heath?” Her smile faltered.
Yes. Oh, yes. “Definitely, I’d be right here.” The words came out much too breathy. Emotions he couldn’t put into words flooded his heart and mind. Warmth thrummed in his gut. He shifted to face her and gently lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
Her lips parted slightly. His pulse jumped. The desire to kiss her flooded his soul. Wrong time. Wrong place. Wrong, wrong, wrong. But he ignored his brain. He was only listening to his heart. Her eyes almost seemed luminescent. He saw the longing there. The same longing he felt for her. He heard her sharp intake of breath, felt the emotion pouring from her—the need.
Nothing else mattered except Harper. Her nearness.
The tenderness that had always been between them, though hidden before, now ignited. No power on earth could prevent his mouth from finding hers.
Her soft lips suddenly turned eager. Harper . . .
He breathed in her essence. His hands stroked the thick waves of her hair. He cherished the feel of her and her willing response to him, the overpowering sensations.
Dizzy with the kiss, he struggled to ground himself, but finally he eased away enough to cup her cheeks. If only this moment could last longer.
He couldn’t let her get away. He couldn’t let her go.
“I wish”—he breathed the words against her lips—“I wish that when this is over, you didn’t have to leave. That you could stay here in Jackson Hole.” What was he doing?
Harper edged away from him as if he’d broken the spell with his words. In her eyes, he saw the hope he’d ignited—and the questions.
But Heath was the worst kind of man. He’d once again made a terrible mistake. He’d messed things up.
“I’m so sorry, Heath.” Harper backed away, then rushed into the house.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
TUESDAY, 12:04 A.M.
CIRCLE S RANCH
Heath slammed the glass down too hard on the counter. He would wake someone, and he definitely didn’t want to talk to anyone at the moment.
Not Harper. That would be too awkward.
Not Emily. She’d ask too many questions.
Not Evelyn or her granddaughter. He didn’t feel like smiling.
And he certainly didn’t want to see Lori, with her warm, flirtatious grin. If anything, Heath wanted to leave the house and get some air.
He completely understood where Harper was coming from. She wanted some space. Freedom to go where she pleased without fear of getting shot or someone standing too close to her and getting shot. Or stepping wrong and getting shot—like Arty. In that, Heath could understand how she might feel guilty—she was always the survivor, like she’d told him a few days ago.
He grabbed his head and pulled his hair. Why had he kissed her? They’d both wanted the kiss, that much was evident. Weren’t they the perfect lonely couple of friends?
Now came the hard part. They had to figure out how to work together. Maybe he should tell Taggart he couldn’t do this anymore. To find someone else.
Headlights brightened the shades he’d drawn. Now, who could that be at this hour?
A text buzzed on his cell. Taggart.
I brought someone I thought you would want to see. Are you awake?
What was Taggart up to?
That depends on who it is. Care to tell me?
He can tell you himself.
It was too late for these kinds of games. Heath was in the middle of sending another text when a knock came at the front door. He rushed to unlock it, wishing he had the choice not to. Heath cracked open the door.
He did a double take.
Liam McKade gave him a tenuous grin. “Hello, Heath.”
While he searched for words, Heath swung the door wide open. At least he could invite his brother in. A duffel bag slung over his shoulder, Liam stepped inside.
Taggart remained on the porch and waited, his appearance understandably haggard.
“You coming in too?” Heath asked.
“I’m merely the delivery boy tonight. Tomorrow bring Harper to town. I have something to show her.”
“What is it?”
“This can wait. You need to play catch-up tonight.”
“Taggart, are you okay?”
His features drew together. “I will be when we find him.” Taggart lifted his chin—a good-night gesture—and turned to walk away.
Heath shut the door, feeling Liam’s eyes on his back. He slowly turned and closed the distance. Then he embraced his brother in a bear hug. Slapped his back a few times for good measure before he released him.
Liam—the middle brother—stood taller than Heath by an inch. He’d inherited their dad’s crop of light hair and dark brown eyes. Liam removed his ball cap and scraped a hand through his hair. “Sorry for dropping in on you like this.”
“Not a problem.” Heath studied him.
“I stopped by the ranch first. Maybe I should have called, but I wanted it to be a surprise. I had envisioned walking in, dropping my duffel bag, and proclaiming, ‘Honey, I’m home,’ but nobody was there. The place was locked up. That disturbed me. Then Pete found me. The only problem was that he didn’t know where you were staying. He knew the horses were being stabled here.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise. I . . . you know how we disagree on the phone sometimes. I didn’t want things to unravel.” Liam grinned. The girls had always loved that grin in school—triple dimples. Heath had been kind of jealous.
“So you called Taggart.”
“Yep. Pete said he would know.”
The sheriff himself had picked Liam up and brought him there. That was impressive. Maybe he didn’t trust anyone else to make sure they weren’t followed to the Circle S.
“Did the sheriff fill you in on the way?”
“After he decided I wasn’t a suspect. I told him I’m happy to help if needed.”
Heath still couldn’t believe his eyes. “Let’s take this into the kitchen. We can tal
k in there if we keep it quiet.”
Tension rolled off his brother.
Heath and Liam never got along when they were together. If they were going to be at odds, he would have preferred that he was still at the Emerald M and not here at Lori’s place.
Liam eased his duffel bag off his shoulder and set it by the door. This wasn’t Heath’s home, so he couldn’t offer Liam a room—if there was even one left—without clearing it with Lori, though he suspected Liam would be more than welcome.
“You can bunk with me tonight.” Heath would sleep on the small sofa in his room.
“Sounds good.”
In the kitchen, Heath offered Liam some of Lori’s lemonade and had a glass himself. In his wildest dreams he never thought he’d be standing there looking at Liam. Awkward silence filled the air. Well, that and the clinking of glass as he set his lemonade on the granite counter.
Heath took in his brother’s appearance. His disheveled hair. Haggard face as if he’d come from a war zone. Liam held on to the counter like he was tired to the bone and he’d fall if he let go.
“It’s good to see you,” Heath said. “There’s so much to catch up on. I have no idea where to start. What brings you back? Did you come up from a deep undercover assignment for some fresh air?”
Liam puffed his cheeks, then blew out a breath as if his story would take much too long. “Something like that. I got your messages. Instead of calling, I decided to show up on your doorstep.”
Heath released a low chuckle. “That sounds about right. So how long will you be staying?”
“As long as you’ll let me.”
“What?”
“I’m not going back.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
TUESDAY, 1:00 P.M.
BRIDGER COUNTY SHERIFF’S OFFICE
This was taking much too long. Harper sat in the stuffy meeting room again. Heath and his brother stood behind her against the wall, along with Sheriff Taggart, waiting for the computer tech.
At least she wasn’t sitting in this room alone with Heath after the fiasco last night. At least his brother had shown up to keep him company, but if she remembered correctly, he and Liam fought a lot. By the looks of them together now, neither of them was happy.
Harper rubbed the tight muscles in her neck. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could wait for an explanation as to why the sheriff had asked her to come in. Had they found Sophie’s body? She didn’t get the feeling it was that. Maybe a piece of evidence. Something they needed Harper to see and confirm.
Heath didn’t know what was going on either. She suspected that was because he would only share the information with her. Taggart likely wanted be the one to deliver the news so he could see her reaction.
Maybe Taggart had grown tired of waiting as well because he moved to stand in front of her and crossed his arms. “A tourist found a memory card. Looked at the contents and then turned it over to us.”
Her chest constricted. “You found the pictures I took.”
“We don’t know that yet. You tell us.”
“What are we waiting for?”
He paced the small space. “The computer tech transferred the photos and will be here to pull them up in a minute.”
Seconds ticked by on the wall clock.
Heath moved to stand against the opposite wall, his expression unreadable. Why had she given in to her ridiculous desire to kiss him? Because being near him drove her to do stupid things like lean closer for a kiss. Because they’d connected before as kids, and for some inexplicable reason it was as if they’d picked up where they had left off and deepened their connection.
Except given the traumatic events of her childhood, and the scenes she’d witnessed each week at her job, she knew that the worst kind of tragedy could steal a loved one away. So Harper long ago resolved she would never leave herself vulnerable to that kind of pain. Kissing him had been a huge mistake.
The door swung open.
“Sorry about that.” A short-haired brunette woman, young and lively, rushed to the table.
Harper had half expected a stereotypical nerdy guy.
The girl sat next to her. “I’m Meghan.”
“Nice to meet you, Meghan.”
But Meghan’s focus had tunneled in on the computer. She glanced at Sheriff Taggart.
“Go ahead, Meghan. Let’s see what we’ve got. Moffett will join us soon.”
Harper held her breath, uncertain of her reaction to the images, if they were hers.
Meghan typed on the keyboard and the dark screen lit up. She opened up a digital photo album.
Though Harper had braced herself, the breath whooshed from her.
“Are these your images?” the sheriff asked.
“Yes.”
“I thought so. Though you aren’t the only one to photograph thousands of pictures of Yellowstone National Park, the bear and then the victim and her shooter were as you described.”
“The other images are still on the camera—if only I hadn’t dropped it.” She averted her gaze from the images before her. In the past, she’d failed to look. This time, she’d failed to retrieve her documentation of the scene. At least they had found this card.
It was something.
It was everything.
“We learned of the missing woman and know what happened to her, thanks to your efforts,” Sheriff Taggart said.
“No one could have done better,” Heath added.
“We’ll see if we can get someone on this to enlarge the images,” Meghan said. “Find some detail to help us identify this man. Great photography, by the way. You got some great close-ups with the telephoto. Too bad about your equipment.”
“Are you going to be okay?” Sheriff Taggart asked. “I know these images must bring back those traumatic moments . . . Witnessing a murder is hard.”
“You’re right. It’s hard to see them again.” Heart pounding, she kept her composure. “Will I get the pictures back? I mean, at least the thousands of images of the national parks? I’ve already uploaded most of them to the cloud, but those of Yellowstone haven’t been transferred yet.”
“We’ll see what we can do,” Taggart said, “but for now, these images stay with us.”
“Sheriff?” Liam spoke up now.
“You’re only here to observe because of your law enforcement experience. I thought we could use a fresh set of eyes on this case.”
“And that’s what you’ve got. A fresh set of eyes,” Liam said. “Let’s see about magnifying the images of that rifle. From this angle and the way he’s positioned, I don’t think we’ll be able to see the serial number. But maybe there’s another way to identify who made it and who bought it.”
“Are you kidding me? Wyoming is hunting paradise. You’d be looking for a needle in a haystack. The possibilities are infinite. He could have bought it online or anywhere in the country and brought it with him.”
“Except this guy is local.” Heath sounded sure of himself.
“How do you figure?” Taggart asked.
“Someone coming in from another state to hunt? This isn’t the season for that. I’d say it’s more likely that he’s from around here.” Heath continued to study the image. “This rifle is also custom made. I mean, look at the scope alone. Long range. The scope could be worth, at a minimum, three or four thousand dollars. And the rifle. Definitely not a factory rifle. Someone spent thousands of dollars on a rifle that can take up to a year to make, it’s that custom.”
Liam leaned in for a closer look. “Magnify that rifle, and we’ll see if there’s anything else special about it. The checkering or patterns. I could check out the local custom shops. See if I can learn anything. Unless it’s a ghost gun—one he made himself. Still, he could have gotten the parts locally. If this guy is a felon, he’d get it on the black market or definitely make it himself. It’s a direction. A lead I can follow.”
“You’re not on the county payroll.”
“Exactly. I’m just a guy interest
ed in getting a rifle exactly like my friend’s there.”
Sheriff Taggart nodded. “I appreciate the assistance, Liam. I’ll consider you a consultant on this case.”
Heath smiled. Harper watched the three men. Respect for both Liam and Heath shined in Sheriff Taggart’s eyes.
Then Heath looked at her. He kept his smile in place, but somehow, she knew it was for her. They were okay again, despite the attraction between them.
Her heart sang.
Not good.
CHAPTER FORTY
TUESDAY, 3:35 P.M.
BRIDGER COUNTY SHERIFF’S OFFICE
As they left the county building and headed to Heath’s truck, Harper texted Emily to let her know they were coming back now.
At least the trip into Grayback had been worth it. Those images added to the slim evidence file. Now they had an actual photograph of the shooter to go on. And Liam would be proactive in canvassing local custom rifle makers.
Harper’s cell chimed. Emily was calling her?
“Hey. So what happened?” her sister asked.
“Hold on.” At Heath’s truck, Harper waited while Heath opened the door for her. Liam got in the back and Harper into the passenger seat.
As Heath drove them out of the parking lot, Harper shared with Emily that someone had found her images that showed both the victim and the shooter. Her heart ached as those images shot through her mind again. Sophie . . .
Somehow it hurt even more now that Harper knew the victim’s name.
She squeezed her eyes shut. They were going to get this guy. She believed that to her core.
“Where are you now?” Emily asked.
“Headed your way.”
“I need you to head to the old house. I’m with Lori. That’s where we’re going.”
“What? Why?”
“I was afraid you weren’t going to get out of there in time to take me to the airport. Lori offered. I was about to text you. I’ll meet you there.”
Harper glanced at Heath and asked him to head to her old house. He nodded and made a U-turn in the road.
Always Look Twice Page 18