Ginny watched Griff leave with a mixture of admiration and trepidation. He was a strong man. Could be dangerous. She’d seen that flare of temper in his eyes when he’d ordered Karl to release his grip on her. And he’d pinned her with a stare that made her feel uncomfortable.
Yet as much as she hesitated to trust him, she didn’t think he’d hurt her. At least not physically. His protective streak seemed to be for her, not in a possessive way, but in the chivalrous way she’d only seen in the movies.
Could it be real?
It didn’t matter. She was here for one reason and one reason only. To find the man who’d killed her sister. As soon as she reached her room, she’d call that real estate developer again. Maybe if she was persistent enough, he’d return her call.
Moving on autopilot, she scanned the main lobby of the inn as she approached the stairs. Not that she thought Karl Cross would have followed her here, but a woman could never be too careful. One lunatic in her life was enough.
Another reason to avoid men.
She’d just made a deal with one though. To share information, nothing more.
She mulled over the tidbit Griff had shared. The man Joy was with at the bar could have been Robert. If he’d gone by William or Winston, maybe she could find his profile on the dating site.
A light rain began to fall again, and fog formed on the picture windows in the front. For a moment, her vision blurred, and she thought she saw a man standing by the trees flanking the drive.
He wore a long dark trench coat and hat and seemed to be staring at her.
Robert?
Heart pounding, she slid her hand over her purse, then reached inside for her weapon. The wind kicked up, trees swaying outside. A tree branch snapped at the windowpane. Rain fell, fat drops splattering the glass.
She hurried to the front door but when she opened it, there was no one there.
Heaving a breath, she shut the door, turned and fled toward the stairs. Her foot slid on the slick wood, and she grabbed the rail to steady herself, then forced herself to slow down as she climbed to the second floor. If Robert was out there, he was gone. At least for the moment.
She glanced down the hall at the top of the stairs to make sure he hadn’t somehow gotten inside, then hurried toward her room. Hands trembling, she fumbled with her key, then jammed it in the lock and opened the door. The cloying scent of Robert’s aftershave still clung to the air. Or was it fresh?
Entering on shaky legs, she pulled her gun and scanned the sitting area then rounded the alcove to the bed. A cry lodged in her throat at the sight of the white lilies lying on the bed.
Lilies are for purity, Robert had said. Just like I want you to be pure for me.
Tears spilled over as she surveyed the room and eased toward the bathroom. A bath had been run. Rose petals floated in the water. A bottle of champagne sat on the bathroom counter with two champagne flutes waiting.
And then the note.
Sleep tight, love. Soon you’ll be in my arms again. Very soon.
* * *
GRIFF PHONED JACOB to relay his conversation with Ginny as soon as he made it to his cabin.
“Did she mention where this attack happened? In North Carolina or another state?” Jacob asked.
Dammit, he should have probed her for more information, but his specialty was to extinguish and investigate fires, not serve as a detective in a homicide investigation. “No. The next time I see her I can find out. But since she’s from Asheville, it’s probable that it occurred in North Carolina.”
“I’ll ask Liam to look for a case that fits this scenario.”
Griff entered his house and punched in the code to the alarm. “Anything on the forensics from the last fire?”
“The lab just called. They have a match on some prints. A couple of teenagers at the high school. A kid named Jerome Miller who was caught shoplifting cigarettes at a gas station, and Randy Henner. Randy was caught driving without a license.”
“Both are petty crimes, and a big jump to escalate to arson,” Griff said.
“I know. If these teens are already taking risks and looking for a rush, booze might have triggered their behavior to escalate.”
“Boys will be boys getting out of hand,” Griff muttered.
“Maybe. The assembly at the school is tomorrow at ten. I contacted the principal and told her I plan to question the boys afterward.”
“I’ll be there.”
“One more thing, Griff. Bring a picture of Ginny if you can get one, and Liam can run it so we can find out who she really is.”
An uneasy feeling tightened Griff’s chest. He didn’t like spying on anyone behind their back. But Ginny was playing a dangerous game, and he didn’t want her to get hurt, so he agreed.
Maybe Liam would confirm she was exactly who she claimed to be, and that he could trust her.
He told Jacob about the dating site. “If Joy met her killer on this site, we need to explore it.”
“I’ll call forensics again and see if they’ve been able to recover anything from Joy’s computer.” Jacob paused. “See you tomorrow.”
Griff muttered agreement, then poured himself a whiskey. He needed some sleep, but how could he sleep when he was worried a killer might be targeting Ginny?
* * *
GINNY STOOD FROZEN and trembling, reliving every horrific memory of Robert in her head as the rose petals bobbed gently across the bathwater.
When they’d first met, Robert had turned her head with flattering compliments and sweet nothings he’d whispered in her ear. He’d wined and dined her and promised to support her while she finished her degree. He’d carried her shopping bags at designer boutiques and lavished her with expensive jewelry to ensure she dressed in style.
She’d insisted she didn’t need fancy clothes or jewelry, that she was a simple girl who liked homemade meals and quiet nights, one who dreamed of a family of her own someday.
He’d given those words lip service, but three months into the relationship, he announced he didn’t want children, and he certainly didn’t want her body to be disfigured with a pregnancy. Appearances mattered to him. She had to work out. Diet. Learn how to dress and behave.
Be the perfect wife.
That meant looking good on his arm and entertaining his friends and clients in the home he intended to design for them. A glass house where she would have to tiptoe around on eggshells for the rest of her life.
She’d realized then that they weren’t a match. Home was about family and loving each other, not being perfect or about surface appearances or impressing rich strangers who tossed money around like it was nothing.
That night she’d told him so, and he’d become irate. Told her she owed him and should be grateful for all he’d done for her.
That he would never let her go.
She lifted her fingers and traced them across her throat, a suffocating feeling overcoming her as she recalled his fingers pressing into her vocal cords. His words had hammered home her reservations and she’d decided she had to leave. When he’d found her packing, he’d announced she had to be taught a lesson then he’d tried to strangle her.
She’d screamed and fought him, but he’d dug his fingers into her windpipe and for a moment she’d almost passed out. But in the struggle, she’d managed to grab a lamp and she’d smashed it against his head. He released her and she’d run for the door, but he’d chased her down, then given her a beating she’d never forget.
A lesson she deserved, he claimed as she lay bleeding and hurting on the floor. Later, he’d pulled her against him, comforted her, then run her a bath and sat beside her to nurse her wounds as she’d shivered in shock.
But his plan had backfired. The rage had built inside her that night like a fire that couldn’t be extinguished. Instead of coercing her as he’d planned, he’d done the opposite. The first strike across her face had cemented her determination to leave him and given birth to hatred.
Outside the wind banged against the glass, startling her back to the present. She swallowed hard to chase the memories back into the darkness, then summoned her strength. Tess’s sweet face flashed behind her eyes, and she wiped at tears.
She hurried to the bedroom door and locked it, then dragged the dresser in front of the doorway. Furious at Robert for unnerving her with his games, she let the bathwater run down the drain, threw the rose petals into the trash and poured the champagne down the sink. The bottle went into the trash, then she snagged the lilies from the bed and added them to the pile.
Fueled with adrenaline, she opened her laptop and began combing the dating site for a man named William or Winston who fit Robert’s general description. Twenty minutes later, after scrolling through a dozen Williams, and three Winstons, she found a possible match. William Roberts.
Roberts? Could he have used his first name as his last in the profile?
Again, the man’s face was hidden in shadows. He had a short beard, neatly trimmed, and stood by a Mercedes wearing a dark pin-striped suit. Enjoyed French wines. International cuisine. Had made his money in the stock market.
His profile fit.
She sent him a message saying she’d like to meet, then pulled on her pajamas, grabbed her gun and crawled into bed. She kept the bathroom light on and turned on her side, so she faced the door with her weapon gripped in her hand, ready to shoot if he decided to slip in during the night.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING Griff showed up at the school assembly a half hour early to meet Jacob.
“No word from Liam yet,” Jacob said. “But he’s investigating Ginny Bagwell, murders and attempted murders involving strangulation and arson.”
Griff had thought about Ginny all night. Something wasn’t right with her story. If Jacob uncovered information he could share with her, maybe she’d open up.
Both the principal and the school counselor, Linette Akron, met them in the gymnasium as the kids filed in. Griff was not a fan of public speaking, but this was a serious matter. He’d spent the morning compiling photos of the recent fires and had thrown a few less graphic shots of burn victims into the mix. His audience was young and impressionable, but God knows they’d become somewhat desensitized to violence and trauma from the news and school shootings and had to face the reality of the dangers of the fires. The counselor stood by in the event a student needed help or became emotional.
The principal called the assembly to order and explained the reason for the meeting, then introduced Griff. Jacob situated himself by the door nearest where the two boys in question had been strategically seated.
“We’re here today because of a very serious matter,” the principal began. “In the past few weeks, there have been a series of wildfires along the AT in our area, one of which was not far from the school and the town of Whistler.” She gestured to Griff. “Today one of our local firefighters from station house 7 is here to discuss these fires.”
Griff stepped up to the podium and cleared his throat, then opened with a general explanation of arson. The PowerPoint he’d prepared showed pictures of the actual fires and how close they’d spread to campsites and a residential area. When the photographs of burn victims and corpses appeared, shocked gasps reverberated through the gym.
“We’re discussing this today because we need your help.” Griff clicked to show a photo of the beer bottles and matchbook recovered from the scene. “These items were discovered near the point of origin of the fire.” Another photo revealed the lighter fluid. “Although it’s possible the fires were small campfires where someone was drinking and partying, then the fire got out of hand or wasn’t extinguished properly, evidence suggests the fires were intentionally set.”
The teens in the room began to shift and make noises of discomfort.
One of the boys in question looked panicked and glanced at the exit sign, but Jacob moved to the edge of the row where he sat, made eye contact with him and shook his head.
“We need you to let us know if you’ve seen or heard anything, any chatter, about these fires at school, off the school grounds or online.” The students shifted again, fear and panic flitting through the group.
Griff adopted a nonconfrontational stance. “I’m sure none of you want to see anyone hurt or killed by these wildfires. If you have information, please tell your parents, the counselor, or call the sheriff. Because if there are injuries or casualties, the arson charge will be elevated to manslaughter or possibly homicide.”
More gasps, indicating he’d gotten their attention.
The counselor stepped up to offer her services, emphasizing anonymity. She’d already established a special drop box for the students to report instances of bullying, drugs or weapons on campus, and urged the students to use it now.
As soon as the principal dismissed the assembly and the kids began to file out, Jacob cornered the two boys in question. Due to the fact that they were minors, their parents had been asked to meet in the counselor’s office where the boys would be questioned.
Jacob assured Griff he’d keep him abreast if he got a confession, and Griff paced the entryway in the school.
All night he’d been haunted by images of Ginny being attacked or strangled.
He hoped to hell she was safe.
* * *
HE THUMBED THROUGH the photographs he’d snapped of Reese while she darted around Whistler asking questions about Joy Norris’s murder. She’d thought she was hiding out all this time, and he’d let her believe it.
Decided time and distance might make her miss him. Appreciate him.
Laughter rippled in his throat as he traced a finger over her heart-shaped face. Joy had reminded him so much of Reese with her auburn hair that when he’d closed his eyes and pounded himself inside her, he’d imagined it was Reese.
But then she opened her sassy mouth to talk in that nasal like voice, and he saw her face. Makeup smeared and too-red lipstick. She’d looked ugly.
Just like the others. No one could replace Reese because she was perfect.
And she was his.
Once he got her back, he’d make sure she knew it. And she’d never leave him again.