The Lawmen of McCall Canyon
Thanks to another bolt of lightning, Griff was able to get a glimpse of the darker spaces in the alley. He didn’t see anyone lurking there, so he stepped out to get a better look.
Not good.
Because all he managed to see was a gun. And that glimpse happened at the exact same moment that a bullet slammed into the brick wall right next to where Griff was standing.
Rachel gave a sharp gasp and grabbed hold of his shoulder, pulling him back just as another shot came at Griff. An inch closer and he would have been a dead man.
Griff cursed and pushed Rachel even deeper into the alley, putting his own body in front of hers. It was far from ideal, mainly because the smoke from the explosion was spilling into the alley and making its way toward them.
Hell.
First an explosion, then lightning. Now a gunshot. This was not the quick in-and-out that Griff had planned for Rachel.
“Did you see the shooter?” she asked. She was shaking even harder now.
“No. But he’s to our left.” In the opposite direction from Griff’s truck. Still, the guy was in the catbird seat right now because he could be hiding behind heaven knew what, just waiting for them to step out so he could shoot them.
Maybe this was the same guy who’d been in the alley across the street. If he knew the layout of the buildings, he could have possibly made his way here. But it was just as likely there were at least two of them.
That didn’t help settle Griff’s raw nerves.
His phone buzzed, and since Rachel was still holding it, he motioned for her to answer. She did, and even though she didn’t put it on speaker, she held the phone close enough for him to hear.
“Did you fire that shot?” Sheriff Ryland asked.
“No. The shooter’s somewhere in the alley. I’m taking Rachel back to Main Street.”
Shock flashed through her eyes, and Griff could tell from her tensed muscles that she didn’t think that was a good idea. He didn’t believe it was an especially good one, either, but staying put was too dangerous. If there were indeed two attackers, then they could try to trap Rachel and him in the alley.
“Hold tight for a few more minutes if you can,” Sheriff Ryland said. “I’ll try to make sure the street is clear.”
It was a generous offer, one that Griff accepted, but he knew it was going to be tough for the sheriff to manage. The smoke would be cutting his visibility, too, and they weren’t out of the woods yet. There was still the possibility of a second explosion.
Griff moved Rachel to the center of the alley. “Stand with your back to mine and face Main Street,” he instructed. That way, he would be in a position to shoot the attacker who’d fired those shots at him.
He took out his reserve weapon from a slide holster in his jeans and handed it to her. Griff prayed she wouldn’t need it, but at least if she did, Rachel could shoot. He knew that because he’d been the one to teach her.
That reminder brought back some unwanted thoughts. Rachel’s and his lives had been intertwined since he was twelve years old. That’s when Griff had moved to McCall Canyon and started doing odd jobs for her father at the McCall Ranch. That meant they had twenty-four years of memories. Some had been bad, really bad, but this would be at the top of the heap.
She took his gun, automatically positioning it the way he’d taught her. Griff hated that he had to put her in this position. Hated that she was in this kind of danger. Later, when they made it out of this, he would need to do something to fix it, to make sure it never happened again.
Of course, Rachel might not let him fix anything. She might try to go on the run again.
“Who’s doing this?” she whispered.
“I don’t know.” Griff wished he did. “But if you’ve got any ideas, I’m all ears.” He expected her to say no.
She didn’t.
“Marlon Stowe,” she said.
The name meant nothing to Griff, but judging from the way she shuddered, it meant plenty to Rachel.
“Who the hell is he?” Griff demanded.
He wanted to hear every word she said, but he also didn’t want anything they were saying to cause him to lose focus. He had to keep watch, and listen, for that shooter.
Rachel shook her head. “It’s just some guy who works at the inn where I’m staying. The first week I was there, I saw him and his girlfriend get into a serious argument. I intervened when I thought he was about to hit her, and after the girlfriend and I talked, she broke things off with Marlon and moved out of town. Marlon blames me for that.”
Griff was slammed with emotions. Anger that some clown wouldn’t leave Rachel alone.
“It’s probably not him, though.” Rachel gave her head another shake. “I don’t think he was mad enough, or crazy enough, to want to kill me.”
Griff would soon find out if that was true. Once he had Rachel safe, he would make it a top priority to find out everything he could about this guy. Rachel had been through entirely too much to have to deal with a hothead.
“It’s more likely that this is connected to my father and those new threats,” Rachel added a moment later.
Griff didn’t voice his agreement. Didn’t ask her to elaborate, either. That’s because he knew what she meant. This could go back to her father’s mistress. Or maybe to someone else Warren had ticked off when he’d carried on a three-decades-long affair.
The rain started coming down harder, and Griff felt Rachel shiver. He didn’t think it was solely from fear this time. It was May, which meant the temps were already high, but the rain was cold, and their clothes were past the damp stage. The water was starting to stream down their bodies.
His phone dinged again with another text message. “The sheriff says he doesn’t see a shooter anywhere near your truck. His deputy is still pursuing the bomber on foot.”
Good. Maybe that meant the bomber wouldn’t double back. But even if he was trying to do that, it was too dangerous for them to wait around and find out. If the guy had managed to plant one explosive, he could have others on him.
“Let’s go,” Griff told her.
She nodded, shoved his phone in her pocket and got moving. While they made their way back to the front of the alley, Griff tried to keep watch all around them, and Rachel was doing the same. He prayed it would be enough.
“Stay down,” he muttered, when they reached Main Street.
There wasn’t much left of her car, but still plenty of flames and smoke. Both could conceal a shooter, but could hopefully give Rachel and him some cover, too.
As he’d done at the back end of the alley, Griff leaned out from the building and looked around. There were plenty of places a shooter could hide. Too many. And Griff didn’t see either the sheriff or a deputy. Still, he couldn’t wait any longer.
“Keep low and watch where you’re stepping,” Griff warned her.
In addition to the limited visibility from the smoke, there were bits of car parts, metal and glass all over the sidewalk. He didn’t want Rachel getting tripped up once they started to move.
Griff took out his truck keys, said a quick prayer and stayed in front of Rachel when they stepped out from cover. He didn’t have to tell her to move fast because she did it automatically. She also started to cough.
The smoke quickly began to burn his eyes, so Griff picked up the pace as much as he could. He also continued to keep watch. Especially behind them. He didn’t want that shooter coming out of the alley and gunning them down.
It seemed to take way too long to get to his truck, and the moment he reached it, he unlocked the driver’s-side door and threw it open. He was about to push Rachel inside when he heard a sound. Not on the street.
But from above.
Griff glanced up just in time to spot the man on the roof of the one-story building. Even though he didn’t have a good view of the guy’s face, he had no trouble seeing his gun. A gun the man fired.
The bullet ripped through the rear window on his truck and exited the windshield. The only reason it missed Rachel was because she moved a split second before the guy pulled the trigger. She dived across the seat, and in the same motion caught Griff’s arm to pull him in, as well.
He shook off her grip, turned and took aim, firing two shots at the man on the roof.
That sent the guy ducking for cover, and Griff took advantage of that. While he would have liked to go after this moron and arrest him, he couldn’t put Rachel at risk like that. He had to get her out of here. And not just off Main Street and out of the line of sight of this shooter. He needed to get her away from Silver Creek and whatever the heck was going on here. He had to take her to McCall Canyon so they could regroup and catch these SOBs.
Griff jumped behind the wheel, got the engine started and hit the accelerator.
“Get down!” he warned Rachel.
She did.
Just as bullets slammed into the back window.
Chapter Three
Griff and she had managed to get away from a killer.
She kept reminding herself of that. Kept reminding herself, too, that they were alive. But it might be a long time before that all sank in. Especially since the would-be killer had managed to escape. He was still out there. Maybe regrouping. Perhaps planning another attack. And maybe next time, Griff and she wouldn’t be so lucky.
With that terrifying possibility going through her mind, Rachel looked out at the McCall Canyon sheriff’s office when Griff pulled to a stop in front of it. She took a deep breath, trying to steel herself.
It didn’t work.
Of course, there wasn’t much that would help steady her right now. She was going to have to face her family, and there probably wasn’t enough steel in her backbone to get her through that. Because she was already close to the breaking point.
If Griff hadn’t pulled her into that alley when he did, she would have died in the car explosion. Ditto for him getting her to his truck so they could get away. While she was very glad to be alive, she couldn’t forget that in those blink-of-an-eye moments, the outcome could have been a whole lot different. Griff and she could both be dead.
“Thank you,” she told him.
He’d already reached to open the door of his truck, but he stopped and looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. That’s when she realized he’d misinterpreted what she’d said.
“I’m not thanking you for bringing me here,” Rachel corrected. “But for saving my life.”
Griff just sat there, perhaps waiting for something else. Maybe for her to blast him for finding her when she’d made it so clear that she hadn’t wanted to be found. She hadn’t wanted him in her life, either. However, that was an argument that could wait. For now, she had two other items on the agenda.
Her brothers.
Both Court and Egan were right there in the squad room when Griff and she went in. Anyone who saw her brothers together like this had no doubt they were related. They had the same dark brown hair and intense gray eyes. Rachel had obviously gotten their mother’s genes, since her hair was blond and her eyes blue. Still, there was enough family resemblance for people to tell she was a McCall, too.
Thankfully, there were no other lawmen around, not even a dispatcher. And she was especially thankful that her father wasn’t here. Since this probably wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation, Rachel preferred that as few people as possible were present.
Griff’s phone dinged with a text message—something that had been happening during most of the drive from Silver Creek. He’d had Rachel read those to him so he could focus on the drive, but he didn’t make that offer now. He stepped to the side, probably not only to read the text but to give her some time with Egan and Court.
As Griff had done in the truck, her brothers just stared at her for a moment. They looked her over from head to toe, their gazes lingering on the jacket she was wearing.
It was Griff’s.
He’d given it to her in the truck when she’d started shaking. Not just because she was wet from the rain, but because the adrenaline had still been slamming into her. She’d gladly accepted the jacket. And had tried not to notice that it carried Griff’s scent.
Rachel failed at that, too. She noticed.
Court was the first to budge. He cursed—the profanity definitely meant for her—and then he pulled her into his arms. “Leaving town like that was a really stupid thing to do,” he whispered to her, while he brushed a kiss on her cheek.
“I didn’t have a choice,” she whispered back.
Court pulled away, studied her eyes, then he nodded. Perhaps that meant he understood that what their father had done had shaken her so badly that she’d needed to put some distance between them. What Court probably didn’t know was that the deepest cut had come from Griff.
Again, though, that was an argument with Griff she’d need to postpone, because she had to face Egan. Unlike Court, he didn’t come to her. Her other brother stood there, giving her one of his infamous glares that no doubt worked on criminals. Not kid sisters, though. Rachel went to him and hugged him. It was like hugging a statue, because his muscles were rock hard. But then she felt him relax.
“I was worried about you,” he said against her ear. “Don’t you ever make me worry about you like that again.”
No need for her to tell him that she’d been concerned, too. Not just with leaving McCall Canyon, but with everything that had gone on tonight. Concerned and scared. All their lives had changed on a dime when their father had been shot, and the changes apparently weren’t over yet. Griff had said there were new threats, and with the attack, it could mean the person who’d made those threats wasn’t finished with her family.
Or not.
This might not be connected at all, which made it all the more frustrating. Someone wanted her dead, and she not only didn’t know who, Rachel didn’t know why.
“Griff said you weren’t hurt,” Egan added. “Is it true?”
“I’m okay,” she settled for saying.
He let the hug linger a few more seconds before he moved back and looked at Griff. “Tell me how we catch the SOB who tried to kill Rachel.”
On the drive over, Griff had filled Egan in on the basics while on speakerphone. Well, he’d done that after they’d been sure the shooter wasn’t following them. He had also had several conversations with Sheriff Ryland.
What Griff hadn’t done was talked to Rachel.
Like Egan, he was clearly still fuming that she’d left town and then had gotten herself into a dangerous situation. She hadn’t purposely run toward the danger. She’d been running to get away from Griff and her father. Now, here she was—right back with them. Or at least she soon would be with both of them because she was certain that either Egan or Court had already called their father.
Griff quit reading the text on his phone and shifted his attention to Egan. “Sheriff Ryland is getting us footage from a security camera outside a bank that was just up the street from where Rachel had her car parked. We might be able to see who planted the explosive device.”
Rachel wasn’t holding out hope. If the guy was bold enough to do something like that on Main Street, then he was probably aware of the position of the camera. Still, they might get lucky. If not, maybe someone had even seen the person and could give them a description.
Egan hooked his arm around her and got her moving to his office, which was at the back of the squad room. Once he had her there, he practically sat her in the chair next to his desk, then got her a bottle of water from his fridge.
She’d been in this office many times—when it’d been her father’s, and then for the past four years since it was Egan’s. It hadn’t changed in, well, forever. Same desk. Same filing cabinet. Same fridge.
The picture was there on the wall, of course. A photo of Egan, Court, her and their late brother, Warren Jr.—or W.J. as folks had called him. W.J. had been dead for nearly a decade now. Shot and killed in the line of duty when he’d been a deputy sheriff on call at a domestic dispute that had turned deadly.
The pain and grief from losing him felt as fresh as if she’d just lost him hours ago instead of all those years. That was the picture she had in her head. Her brother dead. His life cut much too short because he’d been wearing a badge and trying to do the right thing.
And that was the reason Rachel had sworn she would never fall for a cop.
That included a Texas Ranger like Griff.
“Tell me about this dirtbag who’s riled at you,” Egan insisted.
That was his big-brother tone, and it caused her to sigh. Egan had always been protective of her, which was why he often shot Griff scowling looks. Like now. Neither their father nor Egan had ever thought Griff was the right man for her. And he wasn’t. He’d proved that last month.
“His name is Marlon Stowe,” Rachel answered, after she had a long sip of the water. “His folks own the inn where I was staying, and he works part-time in the office there. He believes I’m responsible for his girlfriend leaving him. I suppose I am,” she added.
“I’ve already requested a background check on him,” Griff explained. “I’m waiting on a call about him now.” He took out his phone and showed her the photo on the screen. “That’s the guy, right?”
She nodded. It was Marlon’s DMV photo that Griff had apparently gotten in that text. “His hair’s a little lighter in this picture than it was the last time I saw him.” Marlon definitely didn’t look like a cowboy. He had the clean and polished appearance of a businessman. One with a tense edge to him.
“Checking out Marlon is a good start,” Rachel continued. “He gives me the creeps, but he hasn’t been around the inn for the last week or so. Plus, he’s never been...actually physically aggressive. He just made it very clear that he was furious with me because I convinced his girlfriend to leave him.” She paused. “You’re sure our half brother or our father’s mistress isn’t behind this?”
Griff quickly shook his head. “Your half brother is a cop. And no, there’s no indication whatsoever that he’s dirty. His name is Raleigh Lawton, by the way. He’s a county sheriff.”
She knew that. Rachel hadn’t been able to resist looking him up online. “We’re certain Raleigh is really Warren’s son?”
“Warren says he is,” Griff confirmed. “Raleigh refused to have a DNA test. He wants nothing to do with Warren, your brothers or you.”
Rachel didn’t fault him for that, since she felt the same way about Warren. “How about his mother then?”
Her name was Alma Lawton. Rachel knew plenty about her, too, but it wasn’t plenty enough to understand why her father had carried on an affair with the woman and had a child with her.
“I’ve already called Alma,” Court said. “She’ll be in first thing in the morning for questioning.”
Rachel was betting the woman wouldn’t care much for that, and it almost certainly wasn’t the first time her brothers or Griff had brought the woman in. No. Because Alma was once a person of interest in her father’s shooting and could have been connected to the actual shooter, Whitney. After all, Alma had been his mistress for years, and it was possible she’d just gotten tired of waiting for Warren to leave his family for her.
But that wasn’t motive for Alma to go after one of Warren’s kids.
Was it?
Maybe if the woman wanted to punish Warren, she might believe that was the way to do it. But there were a lot of “ifs” in that theory. It was possible that Alma was the one who’d ended the longtime affair, and if so, that would mean she didn’t have a motive for what was going on.
“We haven’t told Mom about the attack,” Court went on. “We thought that was best, considering.”
Yes, considering that their mother was in a mental hospital. That was something else she could thank her father for doing. Hearing the news of her husband’s affair and his other life had sent Helen over the edge.
“I won’t say anything when I talk to her,” Rachel assured them. Which would be soon. Rachel had been calling her every day for the past month, and she wouldn’t miss the call tomorrow, either.
“You haven’t asked about Dad,” Egan said. He didn’t wait for her to respond. “He got out of the hospital about two weeks ago, and he’s upset that you ran off before he had a chance to explain.”
Rachel could practically feel her blood pressure soaring. “Well, you can tell him I’m upset that he couldn’t be faithful to his wife.”
She didn’t bother to take the venom out of her voice but hated that she’d aimed it at Egan. Court was more of the forgiving sort and had probably worked out a way to make amends with Warren, but Egan was likely just as bitter about this as she was. The difference was that he hadn’t left.
Egan grunted in agreement and tipped his head to Griff, sending another scowl his way. “Griff told us what happened between you two the night Dad was shot. That you landed in bed for comfort sex.”
Rachel snapped toward Griff so fast that her neck popped. She was certain she was scowling at him now.
“I thought they needed to hear what’d happened,” Griff said, his mouth tight. “I wanted them to know that you might have left because of me and not Warren.”
“I left because of both of you,” she snapped. And intended to say a whole lot more to Griff—in private.
Mercy. He had no right to tell her family about that.
“I’m guessing it’s over between Griff and you?” Egan asked.
“Yes.” Rachel snapped that response, too.
And she scowled at Egan when he gave her that big-brother look again. Egan didn’t have to come out and say it, but she felt a mental lecture coming on. One where he would say something about hoping she’d remembered to practice safe sex. She had.
Or rather, Griff had.
They’d used a condom, but with the way her life had been going, she’d taken a pregnancy test two weeks later just in case. It’d been negative. So at least her mistake of sleeping with Griff hadn’t resulted in a pregnancy.
The mental lecture was still going on between Egan and her when the front door opened. Griff, Court and Egan all reacted by drawing their guns. But they all soon holstered them again, Court and Griff making grumbling sounds. Rachel knew the reason for the grumbles.
Their visitor was the district attorney, Brad Gandy.
It was an understatement that Brad and Griff didn’t get along. She was the main reason for that. Brad had always had a thing for her. And Court had been on Griff’s side. In fact, Court was the only McCall who’d ever wanted to see Griff and her together. Of course, that probably didn’t apply now that Court knew Griff had slept with her while keeping Warren’s dirty little secret.
Brad made a beeline to Egan’s office, volleying glances at all of them when he stepped inside. His eyes narrowed a bit when his attention landed on Griff. Griff’s only reaction was to scowl even harder than he already was.
The two men were definitely a huge contrast. Brad, in his pricey gray suit, looked as if he’d just stepped out of the courtroom. Griff was pure cowboy in his jeans and Stetson.
“Rachel,” Brad said on a rise of breath when he’d finished with his glances. “I heard about someone trying to kill you. God, I’m so sorry.” He went straight to her and pulled her into his arms.
She tried not to go stiff. After all, Brad and she had once dated in college, and he’d hugged and kissed her back then. However, it didn’t feel right for that little display of affection to happen in front of her brothers. Or Griff.
Especially Griff.
Rachel silently cursed him. And the blasted attraction. She wished she could make herself immune to him.
Brad eased back, making eye contact with her. Except it wasn’t just mere contact. He was looking at her as if examining her, to make sure she was all right. She wasn’t, but Rachel tried to appear a lot stronger than she felt as she stepped out of his grip.