THURSDAY, 9:33 A.M.
BRIDGER COUNTY SHERIFF’S OFFICE
Harper had come in to tell the sheriff goodbye and to see if he needed anything more from her before she left. Sitting here in his office now, she realized that stopping here on the way to the airport had simply been her way of stalling the inevitable.
I’m leaving Jackson Hole, never to return.
Because really, she couldn’t see herself ever coming back to this place that held so many bad memories. Except not all of them were bad. Some memories included Heath, the sentinel who stood against the wall in the sheriff’s office, arms crossed. Noble and strong. Trustworthy. A defender. Protector. Brilliant, soul-piercing blue eyes in an epic fantasy-hero face.
Her heart wouldn’t be the same without him in her life.
Liam slipped into the office and stood next to Heath. “I have some news you’re going to want to hear.”
Sheriff Taggart stood from his desk. “Well, let’s have it.”
“I don’t think this is a good time, Liam,” Heath said.
Harper stiffened. Heath didn’t want her to hear what Liam had to say? Too late now.
“Sorry, bro,” Liam said. “She’s part of this.”
“I took the picture of Donny Albright to Chad. He said he doesn’t think Donny is John Smith.”
“John who?” She wasn’t technically part of the official investigation team, but she tensed at the realization that she’d been left out of so much.
“I found a custom rifle maker who says someone was asking him questions about making the rifle in question with that particular scope. He told me the guy’s name was John Smith. When I went back to talk to him this morning, he suddenly got his memory back. He’d made that rifle, after all.”
The sheriff shook his head as if unconvinced. “There wasn’t a registration number. If Chad made it, there should have been.”
Liam crossed his arms just like Heath always did. “At first he insisted someone could have made it on his own. True enough. But Chad said that’s his signature—that checkering. I admit that I let him think we knew he’d made it, so finally he confessed.”
Pacing behind his desk, the sheriff was a man with too many people playing dirty in his sandbox. “You went back to see the gunmaker with Donny’s picture without asking for the go-ahead.”
“I didn’t think I needed one. I don’t work for you. And Heath is only—”
Heath’s eyes grew wide and he subtly shook his head at Liam. “I apologize for my brother, Sheriff.”
“Look, Taggart,” Liam said. “The bottom line is that Chad made that rifle. And he didn’t recognize Donny. Didn’t think he was John Smith.”
“Well, which is it? Surely he knows if it was Donny or not,” Taggart said.
“Bring Chad in for a photo lineup, then.” Liam paced Sheriff Taggart’s office. “Or have him look at the body in the morgue. What about Harper? Has she been given the chance to confirm that Donny was the man she saw shoot the hiker?”
Harper covered her face. She couldn’t believe any of this.
“Since she didn’t get a good look at him, I’m not sure it would make any difference. We have the images she took and we’re analyzing those.
Heath had known about John Smith, and he’d kept that from her. He’d wanted her to go home to Missouri believing that they’d closed the case and that Donny was Sophie’s killer, though he’d expressed his concerns.
“Let’s have Chad confirm that the rifle we found at Donny’s is the one he made for John Smith,” Heath said.
The sheriff nodded. “That would be a step in the right direction. I’d like to know why Chad refrained from placing a serial number on one of his rifles for sale. He knows that’s illegal.”
“Uh . . . I believe that’s why Chad wasn’t initially forthcoming. He didn’t engrave the required identifying information on the weapon, claiming he delivered it with an unfinished lower receiver. The client added the remaining parts, conveniently leaving off any identifying information. That’s how these guys get around the law.”
Sheriff Taggart swiped a hand down his face. “Let’s get him to confirm the weapon, if he will.”
“Did you find evidence that Sophie or her husband, Chase, were ever inside Donny’s cabin?” Heath asked.
“Nothing yet. Techs are still going over the house. It’s clear we still have a lot of pieces to both find and fit together.”
“True,” Heath muttered.
Nausea swirled in her stomach. The shooter could still be out there somewhere. She’d wanted this to be over.
She glanced at Heath, unsure if she should be angry with him for keeping so much from her or understanding that he simply wanted her to go somewhere safe. He knew she wouldn’t leave if she learned about John Smith. Now she better understood why he’d pressed her to go home.
“For now, Donny Albright is our main suspect. He had the weapon that shot and killed Arty in his possession. We’ll either confirm he’s our man or we won’t.”
“You mean you’ll confirm he’s your man with additional evidence beyond him possessing the weapon, right?” Heath cocked a brow.
“Don’t worry, McKade, we’ll tie it all together before it’s over. A deputy’s dead, remember? A woman’s been murdered, and probably her new husband as well. We want the right guy to pay for his crimes.” Sheriff Taggart’s attention turned to Harper. She could almost shrivel at the look he gave her. What was that about? “This could take a long time. It’s probably good that you’re leaving today.”
“I might hang around here, after all.” There. She’d said what was really on her mind and in her heart. Not the way she’d intended, but it was out there. Heath’s brow furrowed slightly.
“Well, you’re free to go, if you so choose. We can contact you if we need you.”
The sheriff clearly hoped to put this case behind him so he could work on solving who was behind the bombings. The state’s findings had agreed with the fire chief’s—the incident at Emerald M was created by an explosive device.
“I have an idea, Sheriff,” she said.
“I’m not sure I want to hear it.”
“It’s easy to see you’re shorthanded and you’d prefer if I headed home, far away from Wyoming. So here’s my proposal. I’m going to stay. Heath doesn’t need to watch me anymore. I don’t believe that I’m in danger now. The guy is either dead or he’s gone to a lot of trouble to make it look like someone else killed the honeymooners, meaning he doesn’t want to draw unwanted attention by targeting me again. Besides, I’m no longer a threat to him. There’s no reason for him, if he’s still alive, to expose himself and commit another murder. If he does that, then he’s setting himself up to be hunted again.”
“Good point,” Taggart said.
“Now wait a minute.” Heath stepped between Harper and the sheriff.
“I heard you don’t have a dedicated evidence photographer. How about I work for you as a crime scene photographer—any kind of crimes? I could work with Moffett. I could . . . freelance. Or maybe even volunteer?” She used her most lighthearted, cheerful voice.
What am I doing?
She’d been all set to go home today. She could even attend the gala Saturday night with Emily. Instead, she was asking for a job so she could stay? And for some reason . . . that decision felt like the right one.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Taggart’s cell rang and he glanced at the screen. He gestured for them to leave. “We’re done here for now. Please stay out of trouble.”
Great. She left the office with Heath and Liam with more questions than answers.
She strolled in silence with the two through the sheriff’s office and out the front doors. Outside, they approached Heath’s truck. Liam had parked across the street. Clouds gathered to the northwest, dark and furious, forewarning of a violent thunderstorm. In contrast to the approaching storm, the sun blazed down on them from the southwest.
“Now what?” Heath stared at her, confusion apparent in his eyes.
Liam leaned against Heath’s truck.
“I don’t know,” she said. She’d known exactly what she was doing this morning, and now?
“I was supposed to take you to the airport. Are you staying or are you going?”
“Well, Liam’s news kind of changed all that. We don’t know if Donny Albright or John Smith are one and the same. We don’t know who killed Sophie. So . . . I’m staying.”
“You could still go home, Harper. There’s no reason for you to stay. You don’t need me to watch over you. You made that case to the sheriff. You going home won’t put Emily in danger. So why stay?”
Thick emotion edged his question. She tried to read his eyes, though they were hidden behind sunglasses. What did Heath want? Why was she so willing to change all her plans? Was it truly because of this new information?
I want to stay and see if we could have something together. She’d been bold enough with her announcement that she wanted to work for the sheriff, but opening up to reveal the raw truth of her reasons wasn’t easy.
“Okay. This is my cue to leave.” Liam winked. “You two need to figure this out. In the meantime, I’m getting my gear from Circle S and heading home.”
“Home?” Heath asked.
“Yep. Emerald M, here I come.”
Heath visibly relaxed. He was worried about his brother and needed more time with him. She understood that. She remained concerned about Emily, but as her sister revealed, she had plenty of friends to help her. Harper felt certain Emily would encourage her to stay, just as she’d already done.
She drew closer to Heath. Breathed in the scent of woods and mountains that clung to him. Arms crossed, he raised a hand to lift his sunglasses. So he could study her better? And she looked into his eyes for an answer. For . . . something. She felt like an idiot now.
“When I first came here, I was still a mess,” she said.
Heath grinned. She thought he might actually laugh. She gave him a friendly punch. “Listen, I’m being serious. I was on the last leg of this long trip to somehow get better.” Afraid to see his reaction, she averted her gaze.
“And now?”
“The survivor’s guilt that I couldn’t seem to shake. The severe depression. It all stemmed from my inability to act when it was most needed. I see that now and I think I’m getting better.”
“From where I’m standing, I would have to agree. You’ve even offered up your skills as a crime scene photographer to Taggart.” That grin again. “I’m so impressed, so proud of you.”
Oh. She could so stay here if he would give her a reason, despite the fact that she’d pushed him away. Told him that she couldn’t be in a relationship. There was still that risk that Harper would end up alone, but the reasons for her resolve no longer seemed valid. Heath had protected her through this, and he was still alive and well. Still here to prove to her that her fears were unfounded.
Heath pressed his hand against the truck for support and leaned in close. Much too close. “But I need to know the real reason you’re considering staying.” His voice had a husky tone. The emotion coming off him rushed through her. “Is it because of us?”
She slowly nodded, but the words wouldn’t come.
“With the way you reacted to my kiss, I didn’t think there was a chance for us. At the time, I thought you were right to walk away. I’ve let too many people down. When I’ve tried to help people . . . let’s just say it never ends well.”
“But don’t you see, Heath? I don’t need your help. I need—” She stopped right there.
“What, Harper? What do you need?”
An explosion ripped the air.
Shook the ground.
Reverberated through Harper’s bones.
Then . . . a whoosh.