THURSDAY, 12:30 A.M.
CIRCLE S RANCH
Heath ground his teeth and tried to place the cup quietly on the counter. He’d waited up late for Liam, and not because he was trying to act like a father figure. But it sure felt like it. Liam wouldn’t like it either.
Liam slipped quietly through the front door and crept across the wood slats, then his eyes found Heath watching him from the kitchen across the expanse. Even in the shadows, Heath couldn’t miss Liam’s severe frown.
Oh boy.
Just like when they were living at home. Heath said nothing. He waited for Liam to make his way to the kitchen.
“Where have you been?” Heath asked.
“Checking out the custom long-range rifle makers. It takes time to make it around the valley.”
Heath checked his anger, his emotion, his pulse. Instead of fisting his hand, he wrapped it around his mug. “You didn’t answer my text. There’s a killer out there, so I was worried.”
“My cell died. Sorry.”
“Ever hear of a charger?”
“Why the third degree, Heath? We’re not kids anymore.”
Heath blew out a breath. “I know. I’m sorry.” He was . . . uptight for more reasons than he could count. “What did you find out?”
“The only interesting lead I found belongs to a man by the name of John Smith.”
Heath choked on his drink. He composed himself. “You’re kidding.”
“No.” Liam told him about meeting Chad at Curt’s Custom Rifles. “And we know that if the guy is wanted anywhere or has felony convictions, he can’t buy a gun, even custom-made. But he sure learned a lot from the man who makes them. I suspect that’s all he wanted. I also suspect he already knows enough of what he’s doing and is set up to make his own ammo. He must have had a few questions about the precision in long-distance shots. These guys specialize in that. So John Smith led Chad on that he was commissioning the rifle. Getting as much as he could out of him.”
Rubbing his chin, Heath thought about Liam’s words. “Can you go back tomorrow?”
“Why?”
“We got a tip today that led us to the man supposedly responsible for killing Sophie.” Heath explained about the house and finding the suspect dead. “Taggart called me an hour ago. Because Arty was killed, the state lab got right on it. Ballistics is back. The rifle is the same one used to shoot and kill Arty. Deputy Custer.”
Liam’s expression didn’t change. “But you’re not buying it.”
“It seems . . . convenient. Donny had some animals on the wall, but the only expensive weapon he had was the one. How hard would it be to plant the rifle on a guy like Donny? An anonymous tip led us to at least look into him. And then he was dead. The gun was there. The clothes in the picture. Nothing else but what was in Harper’s pictures.”
That could mean the shooter had taken her camera, after all. His skin prickled at the thought.
After helping himself to a bottled water from the fridge, Liam slid onto a stool. “I get it. You don’t want to let your guard down. This is about protecting Harper.”
“Yes.” Heath had resolved that he would get it right this time. He couldn’t afford even one more fail.
Especially when this was about Harper.
And that was a problem in itself. Could two people fall in love more easily if they already had a connection, as was the case with Heath and Harper? Despite his best efforts to the contrary, his heart held on to her, his mind focused on her.
Whoa, boy. He needed to slow his heart way down.
“Does the rifle have a serial number? I could find out if Chad made the gun in question while I’m there.”
“Nope. What we want to know from Chad is if Donny Albright and John Smith are the same man.”
“Will Taggart let you share the guy’s picture with me?”
“I didn’t bother asking in case he decided to say no. Didn’t want him berating me or firing me from my volunteer job.”
Liam spewed his water. “You’re a volunteer?”
“Oh, yeah. Didn’t I tell you that?”
“How does that even work?” Liam wiped away his mess with a paper towel.
“I’ll explain later. Check your email. I sent you an image I scraped from the internet. Drive back up there during business hours and show this picture to the gunmaker. See if this is the same guy. Find out if Donny Albright is John Smith. Oh, and take a charger this time.”
Yawning, Liam stretched. He grinned. “Not sure I want to take orders from a volunteer.”
Heath was still processing a decent response when Liam rose from the seat, then hung his head. When he lifted his chin, he said, “Sorry, bro. Seriously, anyone who would do what you’re doing for free, not even on the payroll, is a hero. You’re my hero. Keep up the good work, Heath.”