“I was just checking out the place for my mother,” the Stetson-wearing man said.
Griff leaned against his deputy’s SUV, legs crossed at the ankles and arms folded. He’d seen the flash of disappointment in Laurel’s eyes when he asked her if this was the guy.
They would keep at it until they found James or Ricky if she gave him the chance.
He fished his cell out of his front pocket and alerted his deputy that he was leaving. He instructed his deputy to call if anything else came up. His deputy had his phone in his hand. He glanced at the screen and then gave a brief nod before going back to his interview.
Then, Griff joined Laurel in the truck as she bit back a yawn.
“Are you ready to go back to the cabin?” he asked.
“I know the answer should be yes. However, I’m afraid to be alone there,” she admitted.
“I had no plans to leave you alone. I can sleep in the truck or on your couch. Personally, I can do either and have done both when needed,” he said.
“There’s no way I can let you sleep in your vehicle. You’re definitely too long to fit on the couch. You can take the bed,” she said with a whole mess of determination in her voice.
“Bed it is.” Griff might have said that, but he had no intention of kicking her out of her own bed.
“I think I could sleep for two days,” Laurel said. He could hear the weariness in her voice. Not to mention the fact she’d been awake for almost two days straight and should probably already be passed out next to him.
“I’ll have Sherry call Diane to let her know we aren’t coming. Lean the chair back and close your eyes if you want. I got sleep last night, so I’m okay,” he said.
Laurel did.
By the time they made it back to the cabin, she was softly snoring, and it was probably the most endearing thing he’d ever heard. He located her keys inside her small handbag before carrying her inside and putting her to bed. She didn’t so much as move when he gently set her down before removing her shoes. He pulled the covers over her and then returned to the living room to lock the doors.
First, he headed outside to his truck to grab his overnight bag. He always had one with him in case he needed to stay out all night, which happened from time to time on cases.
Griff dug around in the floorboard of the backseat until he found was he was looking for. He shouldered his backpack before heading back inside the cabin. Inside the backpack, he had a fresh pair of clothes, boxers and a clean t-shirt, and an overnight bag filled with toiletries. It was the little comforts that helped while he was on the road.
He looked out across the lake. It was one of those clear Texas nights where the sky seemed to go on forever. Stars dotted the velvet blue canopy as it stretched across the sky. This was his Texas. This was the place he loved.
As he approached the front door, and toed his boots off, he heard a noise inside. The shower turned on. Did he wake Laurel? She was probably just grabbing a quick shower and changing into sleeping clothes. Rather than disturb her, he used the kitchen sink to brush his teeth and wash his face.
While the water ran in the next room, he settled onto the couch, figuring he could catch a catnap while Laurel was in the shower. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. He must have dozed off for a few minutes because the next thing he heard was the bedroom door closing.
Griff checked his watch and, sure enough, he’d conked out for a solid twenty minutes. Since the shower was free, he grabbed his cotton t-shirt along with boxers, and brought his toiletry kit into the bathroom.
He turned on the spigot then set up his things on the counter before shedding his jeans. His shirt, socks, and underwear topped the pile in that order.
The warm shower water helped him think after a long day. His mind snapped to the person in the woods. Could Tad have an unhealthy fixation on her? Or had James or Ricky come for her like they’d threatened?
Laurel had given him a whole lot to think about today. He needed to digest the information and come up with an offensive plan. So far, he felt like all he’d done was play defense. First things first, he would ask Rustler for the report on the festival incident. In fact, one was most likely in his inbox already. He’d neglected his email today. Granted, it was supposed to be his day off.
He always checked his email.
There was something about the thought of unplugging completely from his life that sent his stress levels soaring. Staying in the know helped him stay on top of what was happening in his county.
A loud bang, like someone slamming against the wall caused the room to shake. Griff hopped out of the shower as fast as he could, worried Laurel had tripped over in the dark. She was so tired earlier that she might even be sleepwalking.
He barely toweled off let alone have time to cut the water off. He blotted his body just enough to keep his boxers from absorbing all the water. He grabbed his cotton t-shirt as he bolted out of the bathroom.
Flipping on the light might scare the bejesus out of Laurel, so he opened the door and let the light from the hallway be enough. Stepping inside the dark room, he couldn’t see a thing yet.
And then a blow to his face struck and he felt his own blood squirt from his busted lip. An inch over and the punch would have landed on the bridge of his nose.
He flipped the light switch on as he reached for the gun that was usually in his holster out of instinct. Except he wasn’t wearing one. His weapon was in the next room and of no use to him there. Whoever was in the room had ducked out of sight after throwing the punch.
And then he saw something that made his pulse jackhammer his ribs.
Laurel was on her side, lifeless, with a noose around her neck. He immediately scanned the area. His gaze locked onto a syringe on the nightstand. There was a vial, too, right beside the needle. Since running toward an injured person in an unsecured area was a rookie mistake, Griff threw his back against the wall instead and searched for the other person in the room.
Methodically, he moved inside until he caught a glimpse of feet on the other side of the dresser. For a split-second, he considered bolting into the living room in order to retrieve his weapon, but then the perp bounded from around the dresser with a wrench of some kind. He swung it at Griff, who ducked in the nick of time to miss the metal connecting with his face again. This must have been the weapon the perp had used to split Griff’s lip.
In an instant, Griff recognized the perp from the descriptions Laurel had given him. It was James.
“You’re in serious trouble, James,” Griff said, purposely using the man’s name. Doing so might surprise James and give Griff a second or two of a head start on throwing a punch or ducking from one.
In the next second, a knee came up. Griff hopped back. Thankfully, the knee fell short. But Griff was done playing defense.
“I’m an officer of the law,” he said, needing to identify himself to the perp. “Put your hands where I can see them.”
James sneered at Griff. This guy clearly didn’t care.
“I said get your hands up,” Griff demanded, using the commanding voice he reserved for such situations. The next punch Griff caught with his bare hand. He squeezed, watching James’ face scrunch up in pain. With Griff’s free hand, he made a play for the wrench. Missed.
The darn thing came at him, landing hard against his chest. At least it wasn’t his face this time. He let out a grunt and then went for the tackle. Griff had a definite size advantage over James. The pair flew into the nightstand, but James took the brunt of the hit.
A string of swear words followed a groan from James, who immediately went ballistic. Kicking, punching, and shouting, the man landed a few lucky hits but not enough to do any real damage. He had nothing to lose, considering he’d already assaulted an officer. Not good.
Griff had the momentary advantage of being on top. He used it to dig his knees into James’ side and then twist the guy around as much as possible so he’d be face down on the carpet. Somewhere in the scuffle, the wrench disappeared.
A blood-curdling scream startled Griff. It took a second to realize Laurel was standing behind him. James made an attempt to kick her, but Griff grabbed the man’s leg in time to stop him from making contact.
And then the wrench appeared in Laurel’s hands. James fought hard against Griff, trying to get to her.
“No more,” she said before whacking James across the face with the heavy metal instrument.
His head snapped to the right before his gaze unfocused.
“Ohmygod. Did I kill him?” Laurel asked, dropping the wrench before slinking down on the bed. She was clearly in shock, but he was relieved the contents of the vial had clearly never made it into her body.
“Are you okay?” he asked, then qualified it by saying, “Physically?”
“I believe so,” she said. “The last thing I remember is a pillow being shoved over my face.”
She seemed to realize there was a noose around her neck in that moment as her hands came up to feel her face and neck. She gasped.
“Hold on a minute,” he said. “I need to secure this guy. He is breathing and will regain consciousness at some point in the near future, if I had to guess. Can you grab zip cuffs from my backpack and bring them here?”
“Yes,” Laurel said before disappearing down the hall. She returned a minute later and held out her hand. It was obvious that she was in shock but was still able to follow directions.
Griff turned James onto his stomach before zip cuffing his hands behind his back. Griff searched the man for a weapon and found a knife with a serious blade. He removed it and placed it out of the perp’s reach.
“Can you call 911?” he asked Laurel. “Tell them you’re with me at the yellow cabin and we need assistance.”
“Yes,” she said. Her movements were mechanical but she was coherent and able to follow orders.
After she ended the call, she returned to the bed and sat looking dumbfounded.
“You’re okay,” Griff reassured. “We got him and he can no longer hurt you.”
“Yeah?” she asked but it was more statement than question.
“That’s right. It’s over,” he said as the first tears spilled down her cheeks. It took all of Griff’s self-discipline not to reach out to her, hold her. Be her comfort. But he had no plans to move until James was headed into custody and toward the back of a service vehicle.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to cry,” she said, wiping her cheeks.
“Don’t be. Crying after we were born was how the doctors knew we were alive,” he said, hoping the anecdote offered some reassurance.
Laurel gave a small smile through her tears—tears that looked a whole lot like relief.
Not fifteen minutes later, the cabin was filled with people. Deputy Rustler arrived first, followed by a pair of EMTs, and then Sherry. Deputy Hernandez was next to arrive while Rustler photographed the crime scene and collected evidence.
James blinked his eyes open as he was hauled to his feet. He shook his head like he could somehow shake off the reality he was going to jail.
“Who are you working with?” Griff asked, figuring it couldn’t hurt. Some criminals could get chatty once they had cuffs on. They probably thought it would make law enforcement go easy on them but that was a prosecutors job, not Griff’s.
“No one,” James stated. “I acted alone for my man Timothy.”
“Your man?” Griff stated with disgust. “Don’t you mean your man the rapist?”
“Nah, man,” James said. “Timothy didn’t have to…” His voice trailed off when he saw Laurel sitting on the bed giving him a death stare.
“This is right up Ricky’s alley,” she said to him, her voice steady as a rock.
“He bailed a long time ago. Said it wasn’t worth it,” James said. “But I made a pact with Timothy and there was no way I was going back on it.”
“Ricky sounds smarter than I thought,” Griff stated. “Because you’re the one who is going to spend the rest of his life behind bars.”
“She disobeyed her man. She had it coming and then said Timothy tried to rape her,” James said by way of defense.
“He did,” was all Laurel said.
“No way,” James argued. “He wouldn’t.”
“Oh yeah? How well did you really know him?” she countered. “Did you know he used to call you Dimwitted James behind your back?”
The words struck more fiercely than a physical blow.
“He wouldn’t…” But the seeds of doubt were sewn in James’s eyes. Doubt had taken seed and it was obvious in his expression.
“He did,” she responded.
James’s mouth dropped open.
“We’re done here,” Laurel stated.
Hernandez gave a quick look toward Griff, who nodded.
James was going away for a very long time. Griff had every intention of ensuring it. Laurel was safe now.