Finger on the Trigger Page 5

  She heard Griff’s footsteps, but even before she could see him, he grumbled out a warning. Probably because he heard her footsteps, too. “The pacing won’t help. They’ll get here just as fast if you’re sitting.”

  Yes, but there was no way she could sit with all this restless energy inside her.

  Griff came from the direction of the kitchen, carrying two mugs. She could tell from the smell that one was the strong coffee he favored. The other was her usual tea, which he handed to her.

  “Ruby fixed it,” Griff added, “so it should be good.”

  Rachel had a sip, nodded. It was exactly the way she liked it, and she made a mental note to thank Ruby the next time the woman came in to check on her. Which would no doubt be very soon. Ruby had been making those checks ever since Griff and she had arrived at the ranch the night before, and the frequency had increased in the past hour, since Egan’s text.

  “I talked to Court a couple of minutes ago,” Griff said. “Your father is more lucid this morning.”

  “But?” Rachel definitely heard the uncertainty in his voice.

  “But he has some memory gaps about last night. In other words, don’t expect him to be able to tell us a lot more than we already know.”

  She shook her head. “He has to tell us more. I need to know why he was in that alley.”

  Griff made a sound of agreement and sipped his coffee. He didn’t sit, but instead joined her at the bay window. At first she thought that was because he was anxious to see Egan and Warren, too, but he gently took hold of her arm and moved her back. Only then did she remember that it probably wasn’t safe to stand in plain view like that, because there could be a sniper in the area.

  She silently cursed. She hated that she had to be cautioned about that kind of threat in a place where she’d once felt so safe.

  “I just assumed if the doctor released Dad from the hospital, it meant his memory had fully returned,” Rachel grumbled.

  She didn’t really expect Griff to have an answer to that, because he’d already told her the details of his conversations with both her brothers. Her father had had an overnight stay because the doctor had wanted to run tests on him to see why he was so disoriented. The tests had been inconclusive, but all the results weren’t in yet. She was hoping when they had those results back, they’d have answers to go along with them.

  Rachel got up and went to the window again when she heard the sound of an approaching vehicle, and spotted Egan’s cruiser as he pulled to a stop in front of the house. She’d thought she had steeled herself enough to see her father. She hadn’t. When he got out of the car, he looked frail and old. It seemed as if he’d aged a decade in the past month.

  Griff went to the front door and opened it after he disarmed the security system, then he helped Egan get Warren up the steps. Her father was short of breath by the time he made it inside.

  “Rachel.” His gaze immediately connected with hers, but he didn’t come toward her. Probably because he didn’t want to risk her turning away from him.

  She nodded a greeting, and because she suddenly felt a little unsteady, sank down onto one of the chairs in the family room. Griff led her father in there, too, and had him sit across from her.

  “Nothing yet on the rest of the test results,” Egan volunteered. “The doctor wants Dad to take it easy for a day or two.”

  “I don’t want to take it easy,” Warren immediately protested. “I want to find the person who tried to kill Griff and Rachel. Because I’m betting that’s the same person who did this to me. He must have drugged me. My guess is it was some kind of barbiturate, since I’ve got memory loss.”

  Yes, Rachel suspected that, as well, but her father wasn’t in any shape to go looking for a would-be killer. But that did lead her to something that had been eating away at her.

  “If the shooter got close enough to you, then why just drug you?” she asked her father.

  Warren shook his head. “I don’t know. If he wanted me dead, he could have killed me then.”

  He took the words right out of her mouth. Words that chilled her to the bone. Because this monster could be toying with them. Or maybe her father wasn’t even the target.

  Maybe she was.

  And that led her right back to Marlon.

  Of course, it could be Alma, too, if she’d wanted to punish Warren by making him witness the death of his daughter. Rachel hoped Egan and Griff didn’t give her any hassles about watching the interviews they had scheduled with both of them. Not that she expected either of them to blurt out confessions, but they might say something to give them away.

  “What exactly do you remember about what went on last night?” Griff asked Warren.

  That caused Rachel to shift her attention back to her father, but after one look at his downcast expression, she doubted he was going to give them much. Still, anything was a start.

  He dragged in a long breath before he started. “I went to a bar in San Antonio to meet with Buddy Hoskins. I thought he might know something about who was sending us those threats.”

  Buddy Hoskins. She knew the name. Buddy was one of her father’s criminal informants when he’d still been sheriff. From what Rachel could remember, the man had a drug habit and a long arrest record. Her father had never brought him to the house, but she’d seen him once at the sheriff’s office.

  “Why would Buddy know anything about the threats?” Griff pressed.

  “He didn’t say when he texted me to set up the meeting. Buddy just said he’d heard some talk and wanted to pass it along to me. I figured the reason he wanted to tell me in person was so I’d give him some cash.”

  That didn’t surprise her, but considering everything that had gone on, the meeting could have been a setup.

  “Buddy texted you,” Griff said. “Is that the way he usually gets in touch with you?”

  “Sometimes. Usually he calls, though.” Warren groaned and scrubbed his hand over his forehead. “You think it was someone else who sent that text, to lure me to that bar?”

  “Possibly. Did you actually meet with Buddy?” Griff pressed.

  “I don’t think so. If I did, I don’t recall seeing him. I got to the bar, ordered a beer and the next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital. Everything in between is a blank.”

  “For now it is,” Egan said. “The doctor thought there was a chance you might get those memories back in a day or two.”

  Rachel sighed before she could stop herself. A day or two might be too late for Griff and her. Heck, for all of them.

  Egan checked his watch and then looked at Griff. “Can you hold things down here while I go back to the station? I’ve got a mountain of paperwork to do before the interviews.”

  Griff nodded, though he did cast an uneasy glance at Rachel. Maybe because he wasn’t certain how she felt about being in the same house with her father. She wasn’t certain about how she felt, either, but it wasn’t safe for her to leave until she’d made other arrangements. Something she needed to get started on, since it was obvious she wasn’t going to get answers from Warren. She also couldn’t rely on her brothers to help with those arrangements, since she wanted them working this investigation.

  Rachel stood to face her brother. “What time are Marlon’s and Alma’s interviews?” she asked.

  “The first is at noon. The other, two hours later,” Egan answered, and then he shifted his attention to their father. “Can you get to your room by yourself or do you need help?”

  It was possible that Warren answered, but if so Rachel didn’t hear him. That’s because she felt a tingling feeling in her stomach, then saw a glowing light. Mercy, she knew what that was: an aura. And it always happened right before a seizure.

  Rachel looked at Griff to tell him what was happening, but it was too late. Still, he seemed to know, because he lunged for her, catching her in his arms before she
fell to the floor.

  * * *

  “I’M FINE,” RACHEL grumbled to the doctor.

  Griff didn’t believe her, and obviously neither did Egan, since he gave her a big-brother stare-down. Ditto for Dr. Henry Baldwin not believing her, since he continued to examine her. He had already taken a blood sample.

  “This checkup is just a precaution,” Dr. Baldwin explained. He’d given her several variations of that assurance in between listening to her heart and checking her pupils.

  “I’ve been taking my meds,” Rachel went on. That, too, was something she’d been repeating since Griff and Egan had rushed her to the hospital.

  Over the years, Egan had no doubt witnessed his sister having many seizures, but it still seemed to shake him up. It had certainly done that to Griff. That was in part because Rachel had said she’d been seizure-free for two years. It was always possible for an epileptic to have a seizure, but Griff definitely didn’t like the timing of this one.

  “Is this stress related?” he asked Dr. Baldwin.

  The doctor only lifted his shoulder. “Maybe, but these things happen with or without stress. If there are any red flags, the test results might show it. Might,” he emphasized. “In the meantime, I want her to get plenty of rest. The same for Warren. Please tell me he didn’t come to the hospital with Rachel and you.”

  Egan shook his head. “He didn’t. I insisted that he stay put.”

  Warren had thankfully done that, but it hadn’t stopped the man from texting both Egan and Griff to get updates on Rachel’s condition.

  The doctor helped her to a sitting position on the examining table. Griff could tell from her slight grimace that she was exhausted. That was the usual symptom after she had a seizure. Of course, this one was worse, since she’d hardly slept the night before.

  Even though she was a little wobbly, she got off the table and tried to look a lot stronger than she likely felt. She gave Griff a warning glance when she thought he might start toward her to help, but he stayed put. He also knew from experience that it wasn’t a good idea to treat Rachel with kid gloves after something like this.

  “I’ll call you if there’s anything in your test results,” the doctor said, looking at the tablet that contained her medical records. “Oh, and right before you two brought Rachel in, I got back the blood work on Warren.”

  Rachel, Egan and Griff had already started for the door, but that stopped them.

  “I’ll call and tell him,” the doctor went on, “but since this is a police matter, I can give you the results. Warren was definitely drugged. Someone gave him a huge dose of Rohypnol.”

  That was the date-rape drug, and it explained the memory loss. However, it didn’t prove why someone had given it to him in the first place. Unless...

  “This was to set up Warren,” Griff concluded. “Someone drugged him and drove him to that location so he’d be blamed for the car bombing.” And therefore blamed for Rachel’s murder.

  That was the only scenario that made sense, since Griff was positive that Warren hadn’t tried to kill his daughter, or anyone else for that matter. Still, who would do this, and why? There was only one person with that kind of motive.

  Alma.

  When Griff looked back at Rachel, he realized she was volleying glances between Egan and him. “We should go to the sheriff’s office and wait for Alma,” she said. “She’ll be coming in soon for her interview.”

  Yes, she would be, but taking Rachel there definitely wouldn’t give her the rest that the doctor had just ordered.

  “If I go home,” Rachel added, “I’ll only be pacing and waiting to hear the outcome of the interview. I can pace and wait at the sheriff’s office.”

  Egan, Griff and the doctor all huffed, but Griff knew that’s exactly what she’d do. No way would Rachel be able to relax until they had some answers. Whenever that would be.

  Egan’s phone buzzed, and when he glanced at the screen, he mumbled something about this being a call he had to take, and stepped out in the hall to answer it.

  “You have any other questions?” the doctor asked, glancing from Griff to Rachel. Both shook their heads. “Fine, then just make her sit down as much as possible,” the doctor instructed. He patted Griff’s arm on the way out. “Good luck with that.”

  He’d need luck and a whole lot more to get Rachel to cooperate, but Griff waited until the doctor was out of the examining room before he said anything to her. “I want to focus on this case, and I can’t do that if I’m worried about you.”

  She blinked as if surprised by his words. Maybe because she didn’t want to hear that he was still worried. Or that he cared for her. Which he did.

  “The odds are slim to none that I’ll have another seizure today,” she said, “and I can rest when I get home after the interviews.” She stopped, though, and gave a frustrated sigh. “I was going to make arrangements for another place to stay.”

  That didn’t surprise him. Rachel probably wanted some breathing space away from Warren and him. But considering the fact that he’d just rushed her to the hospital, breathing room probably no longer seemed like a smart idea.

  Even though Griff didn’t say a word, it was obvious she was playing out his argument in her head, because she huffed. “Fine. I’ll stay one more night at the ranch if you don’t give me any hassles about watching those interviews.”

  Griff didn’t want to give in to that, but the truth was he couldn’t stop her. Sure, he could tell Egan to keep her out of the observation room at the sheriff’s office, but she had a right to hear what Marlon and Alma had to say. And that’s why Griff finally nodded.

  When they went into the hall, Egan was just finishing up his call, and he turned to them. “That was the Silver Creek sheriff. They found a dead body about five miles outside town. Male, about fifty years old, and he was killed with a single gunshot wound to the head. They think he might have been the person who set the bomb because he had some explosive paraphernalia in his truck.”

  “He’s really dead?” Rachel asked. She made a sound of relief when Egan nodded, but there was no such relief on her brother’s face.

  “The truck was stolen, and the dead guy had no ID,” Egan went on. He started walking toward the exit, and Rachel and Griff followed. “There was also no gunshot residue on his hands.”

  So he probably wasn’t the man who’d tried to gun them down, and that meant there had to be two of them. Maybe more. That wasn’t exactly a settling thought. Because even though this guy was dead, another would-be killer could still be out there.

  With that reminder fresh in his memory, Griff made sure Rachel hurried when they went outside to the cruiser. He also kept watch as Egan drove toward the sheriff’s office. Along the way, Griff updated Egan on his father’s test results, while he also kept an eye on Rachel. She definitely didn’t seem steady, but there was nothing he could do about that.

  She looked at him, their gazes connecting, and for a split second he saw just how bad her fatigue was before she shut down. Of course, she couldn’t turn off her emotions, because coupled with that fatigue was still plenty of disapproval that he was the one sitting beside her. Or at least he thought it was all disapproval.

  Until she glanced at his mouth.

  One quick look at her, and he saw something else. The heat. Maybe she was remembering the night they’d spent together or the fact that they’d skirted around this attraction for each other for years. Either way, she wasn’t having an easy time dismissing it, because she scowled and mumbled, “Really?”

  For some stupid reason, that made him smile. And it seemed to ease her scowl a bit, too. She didn’t exactly return the smile, but she no longer looked ready to punch him. Maybe that meant they’d reached some kind of truce.

  Egan pulled to a stop in front of the sheriff’s office, and Griff spotted his sister, Deputy Thea Morris, in the squad room. He kn
ew from what Egan had said earlier that she was manning the place by herself while the other deputies were out working on the investigation. But his sister wasn’t alone.

  When Egan, Griff and Rachel went inside, they saw Alma standing there. Griff had already met the woman. Had met her attorney, Simon Lindley, but this was Rachel’s first time seeing the pair.

  Alma’s attention immediately went to Rachel, and the woman’s mouth went into a flat, disapproving line. “You’re the reason I’m here,” she snapped. “Well, I don’t like it, and I’m tired of you McCalls and this vendetta you have against me.”

  Griff was about to return some verbal fire, but Rachel stepped in front of him. “Someone tried to kill us.” Her voice was surprisingly strong, considering she’d had a seizure a couple hours earlier. “It’s not a vendetta. We just need to know the truth so the attacks can be stopped.”

  “Well, you’re not going to learn the truth by going after my client,” Simon protested. He volleyed his attention between Griff and Egan. “This will be the last time you drag her in for questioning. If you try it again, I’ll sue you for harassment. My client has done nothing wrong.”

  “Where was she last night?” Griff asked, the moment Simon had finished his little rant.

  “I was at home,” Alma said, at the same time that Simon spoke.

  “She doesn’t have to answer that!”

  Egan huffed. “She’ll have to answer it if she wants to get out of here anytime soon. But, hey, that’s your call if you want to wait around here for a couple of days for the DA and me to decide if we’re going to file charges.”

  That put Alma’s mouth in an even flatter line. “What exactly do you suspect that I’ve done?”

  Egan lifted his shoulder. “Maybe blew up a car. Drugged a man. Shot at people. Oh, and put a bullet in someone’s head.”

  “Murder?” Simon spat out. He hitched his thumb at Alma. “You really believe she could do something like that? Look at her. She’s not a killer.”

  “I won’t know that until I’ve questioned her, now will I?” Egan met the lawyer’s glare with one of his own, and Egan was good at it, too.