Had something blown into her? Greer opened her eyes.
The killer! Dressed from head to toe in black. Black hood and ski mask. Greer went for her gun, but he held it up. “Looking for this?” he asked in a husky whisper. He slung her gun across the yard. “You won’t need that.” He unclipped her radio and chucked it, too, then he pulled his knife and held it to her neck. “No one to hear you scream.” He grabbed her hair and dragged her through the mud and into Camco’s trailer.
Greer screamed and tried to grab onto anything, including the door frame, as he hauled her up the two stairs. She kicked and wailed. But the park had been evacuated. The storm was loud and obnoxious. And she had no way to call in help.
He must have followed Locke and Greer from the carnival to the station, then tailed Greer here, and waited. Bided his time until he could have her alone. Or he had a police scanner and had guessed she might be here.
Inside, he slung her onto the couch. The man was impressively strong, but Greer wasn’t going down without a fight. As he lunged on top of her, she kicked him square in the chest. All that kickboxing had given her thighs some power. He lurched backward and she sprung up and raced for the door. She needed to be out in the open. This place was too narrow.
If she could get to her car…
The killer growled, cursed and grabbed the back of her jacket, ripping the light fabric down the middle. She fell back against his chest and elbowed him in the sternum, but she knew she’d never make it outside, and if she didn’t do something…she’d end up like those poor other women. Greer had read the reports, knew exactly how they’d died.
She spotted Ms. Camco’s knitting on the cabinet by a cold cup of tea. She grabbed one needle as his arms came around her and he hauled her back into the living area. Greer thrashed and reared back her head, preparing to butt him, but he was too quick for that and he threw her to the ground. Her head slammed onto the floor, jarring her. His black gloved hand wrapped around her throat. As he brought the knife out with his other hand, she plunged the knitting needle into his shoulder. He wailed.
She wiggled free, jumped up and leaped out the door.
His roars sent shivers down her spine. If he wasn’t infuriated before, he was now. Greer slogged through the mud and puddles, hurdling lawn furniture, grills and other sorts of outdoor equipment as well as fallen limbs and branches as she raced to her car.
By now he was right behind her. Her pulse pounded and her hands shook uncontrollably. She made it to her car and jumped inside, locking the door. She went to crank the engine but the keys were missing.
She glanced up.
He stood in front of her car dangling her keys in one hand through the rain-blurred windshield. In the other hand he held a throwing knife.
No. No. No.
Greer’s doors were locked, but she couldn’t stay in here forever. She searched the car for her rifle, but it must still be in lock-up. She hadn’t had time to sign for the release of it—protocol before each shift. When she glanced up, he was gone.
The windows were beginning to fog. Her heart galloped at breakneck speed. Where did he go? Did he leave? Was he waiting? Her breath came in shallow pants as she darted her gaze around the perimeter, but she was almost blind to everything outside the car now.
Rain pelted on the roof.
The wind howled.
Click.
She snapped her head toward the passenger door. The lock had popped up. She squealed and leaped over, smashing it down. He was toying with her, crouching down low. She held her hands on the lock and tried to look below, to see him. Fear filled every vein in her body, rocketing through her.
Click.
She gasped and jumped back over to the driver’s side, smashing down the lock and holding it. How long could she play this game? Was he creeping along the ground back toward the passenger side? He’d know not to mess with the backseat or he’d be stuck inside.
At some point, he’d win. Get inside. Get her out. She had to swallow the terror and go on the offensive. She slowly slid over to the passenger side, trying not to rock the car or give away her location inside. If he was crouched low, then he couldn’t see her, either. When he unlocked the door, she made her move, and instead of relocking it, she thrust the door open, hoping to knock him down and make a break, but he was crouched on the back-passenger side, so the door missed him completely.
He snatched her by the coat collar and yanked her out. She grabbed a handful of sludge and slung it in his eyes, then sprung to her feet and raced across the mud. Lights flashed ahead and she froze, looked back.
The man in black had vanished.
“Get in!” Locke called.
Locke! She’d never been more thrilled to see him. She raced toward his truck and jumped inside. “I thought you had to go?” She fell against him and he wrapped his strong arms around her, squeezing.
“I do what I want, remember? And I wanted to check on you.”
He smelled like rain and soap. Like safety and promise.
“Funnel never touched down.” He pulled back, cradled her face in his warm hands. “What happened?”
She’d tell him. She would. But right now, she needed to catch her breath and simply feel the security of being in Locke’s presence, his arms. Greer fell against him and he held her until her breath steadied and she could explain what happened. “I need to find my gun and radio.”
“Greer, I’m so thankful you’re a tough, brave woman. A fighter. I don’t think my ticker can take much more.” He groaned and sighed, combing his hair with his hands. “Okay, let’s get your gun and radio. I called Jody on my way over to check on them and Lin. They were in the storm cellar at Tori’s.”
“Good.” She’d check on Hollister, who she’d begged to go back home. But he insisted on getting Mama’s stuff cleared out and the garage organized. Greer read between the lines, though. Hollis wanted to be nearby for Greer’s sake. She had no doubt he was safe.
They hopped back out in the thunderstorm and found her gun and radio. She called in she was safe and heading into the station. Back inside Locke’s truck, he eased from the road that cut through the middle of the trailer park.
“Did he say anything to you, Greer?”
“Nothing of importance. I didn’t recognize his voice but it felt like he might be masking it, like I said before. Batman-ish.” Greer leaned her head back against the seat. She felt like she’d been run over by a truck. “He’s strong. Really strong, Locke.”
Locke handed her a bottle of water. “Here.”
She drank deeply, nearly half of the bottle, and sighed. “Take me back to the station. I need to give this information to the sheriff. Fill out a report.” She shook her head. “If I’d have come in to work as a deputy, not been taken off duty, I’d have checked out my extra weapons from the locker for the patrol car. I was helpless inside there.” She fisted the side of the door. “Makes me so mad.”
Between debris in the road and limbs and full-on trees blocking them, it took almost forty minutes to get back to the station. They ran inside since the rain hadn’t let up. The winds had slowed down. According to Locke’s satellite they were now at ten miles an hour, not seventy. Inside, Ben stood with a cup of coffee. His eyes grew wide. “I knew you were wrangling cats, but you didn’t say they were lions.”
“I was attacked by the killer at Magnolia.”
Ben set his cup on the desk. “What happened?” Greer told her story again and made sure Ben took the report. She didn’t want to keep reliving the attack every time she had to tell it.
“She needs a first aid kit,” Locke said.
“Oh, right. It’s on Adam’s desk. He had a problem with a rowdy drunk over at Shady Glen apartments during the evacuation.”
“Is he okay?” Greer asked.
“I’m dandy,” Adam quipped as he strode into the bullpen. Jeans. T-shirt. “And dry now.”
“Where’d he get you?” His face seemed clean. No bruises.
“Everywhere.” His expression was grim, but he tossed her the first aid kit and aimed a scowl at Locke.
“She was attacked by that carny killer again,” Ben offered. “I just took the report.” Adam snatched it and skimmed it, then glanced at Greer, studied her face—probably the small cuts and abrasions. She was piling them up lately. “She stabbed him in the shoulder with a knitting needle.”
“They’re long.” Greer shrugged.
Adam’s eyebrows raised.
“It’s all I could find.”
“Well, he’s wounded then. Right along with the rest of us. I guess we go up to the carnival workers and give them a good squeeze to the shoulder. Whoever flinches did it.” He tossed the report on the desk and stomped out of the bullpen into the back.
This wasn’t like Adam at all. She started to go after him, but Locke held her back. “Let him go, Greer.”
If he didn’t have a decent grasp on her arm and a strange look on his face, she would have beelined it after Adam. Confront him about not keeping her in the loop. “Fine. Let’s go.” Before they headed out, she also updated Ben on the box of evidence they found and the masked man who had taken it from them. Then they left the station. The rain had slackened but the skies were still full of doom and threatening another torrential storm.
“I want to talk to Rudy Dennison about Jenna’s son. And I want to talk to Jenna about Bolt Masterson.”
“You sure? Now?”
“I’m sure.” One or all of them were hiding something. Protecting Flip. Or each other.
* * *
Locke held Lin as she slept in his arms. She’d just finished her bedtime bottle. It was almost nine. She’d stayed up as long as her little, lovely self would allow. He ought to put her down in the portable crib in Tori’s room, but he couldn’t make himself. Not when she was warm and snuggly against his chest, her chubby hand shoved near her lips. Her tiny breathing was rhythmic and precious. He rubbed her soft cap of hair and inhaled her baby scent.
The lamp cast a dim glow. Rain came down like white noise outside. Only rumbling thunder was loud enough to stir her—but she slept hard like her mama, who dozed on the couch, the afghan half on her legs, half on the floor. Didn’t even move.
Evan and Jody were upstairs with Hollister. Tori had gone to work at the hospital.
This day had been exhausting. Locke and Greer had interviewed Rudy Dennison, who denied having an affair but admitted that Jenna’s son was a drug dealer in Birmingham. He suspected he might have been supplying Tiny Tim with recreational drugs but denied he knew anything about Tiny Tim dealing. Yeah, right. Rudy also denied Flip Bomer blackmailing him.
Jenna Dennsion denied the allegations about her son as well.
Without proof the lies would never be uncovered. With no concrete leads and solid evidence, the carnival would be leaving in a few days. Locke wasn’t sure where that left the killer. Would he go? Stay? Come back? He hoped after Greer injured him, he’d lay low and move on. Well, he hoped they caught him, but if he was a smart killer—and he seemed to be or he wouldn’t have gotten away with so many murders for so long—he’d pack it up and go. But more victims would be left in his wake. They had to find this guy. Stop him from hurting and killing more women. Jody promised they’d stay on it. No matter what. Plus, the FBI would be in town before the carnival cleared out. Birmingham had been hit hard. Locke hadn’t seen that kind of devastation in a long time. And that had only been an F3.
Now that it was quiet, with only the rainfall in the background, Locke thought back to the kiss earlier today. Right before Greer had given him an ultimatum. One he was afraid of. He’d failed so many times when he’d been given parameters to live in, work in. Rocking with his baby girl in his arms, this is where he wanted to be. Every night. But that wasn’t going to happen unless he got out of the last two months of his contract and found work here. He liked Goldenville. Liked the church. The people.
Except Adam Crisp. Until he could pinpoint exactly what gave him the willies with regard to the man, he wasn’t going to let Greer be alone with him. Today, Adam had been angry at Greer. Furious. When he should have been concerned.
That bothered Locke. Enough that he carefully slipped his cell phone from his pocket to text Jody just as she tiptoed into the living room. Locke raised a finger then slowly stood and put Lin to bed, flipped on her monitor, then met Jody in the kitchen. “You wanna sit out on the porch?”
“Sure.” She finished pouring a glass of tea and they crept through the living room so they wouldn’t disturb Greer and onto the front porch. Sitting in matching white rockers, they remained silent. Listening to the rain. Flashes of lightning illuminated the yard. “Well, what’s going on?” she asked.
“Greer wants me to be in Lin’s life.”
“Great.” She sipped her tea. “But?”
Locke leaned on his elbows. “I have to be here in Goldenville. Every day. Nine-to-five kind of work. No traveling.”
Jody sat quietly. “You don’t want to do that?”
“I don’t know if I can, Jode. I mean…she’s right. I can barely sit still for thirty minutes. How can I stay planted day in and day out?” He was torn. Conflicted. Already feeling like a selfish man and dad. “She has daddy issues and well deserved.” He gave Jody the gist without revealing all the intimate details Greer had shared with him. That was private.
Jody sighed. “I see where she’s coming from but Beckett travels with us and they have a baby and another one on the way. Caley is pregnant and Shepherd travels when he needs to. They come home and they’re great fathers. She’s afraid and not seeing that reality. Lots of parents have to travel for work. Is it the danger of your job?”
“If you haven’t noticed, Greer’s occupation has placed her in greater danger than mine. No, it’s not that. She knows I’m careful. It’s the whole idea of me leaving Lin later to do my own thing. I would never think Lin trapped me.”
“But you feel caged by Greer’s ultimatum.”
“Yes,” he murmured. “So, does that make me like her dad? Would I walk away?” Greer had him so upside down and dizzy. He was afraid he might fail his daughter. And even Greer. Definitely himself.
“Locke, you aren’t Greer’s dad. You can be a bit self-absorbed, sure. We all can. When it counts, you’re there when you need to be. I don’t have the right answer. I could tell you to suck it up and get a job here and be a dad. Or I could tell you to try to talk Greer into some sense. That you’re only gone from April to end of June and you’d have some weekends in between there. That you can buy a house here and July through April you’re not going anywhere. But I don’t know the answer. Have you prayed?”
“Not really. I mean…not really.” He laughed. “I have a hard time hearing God. I can’t ever get quiet enough. My mind never settles. I’m a bad listener, too.”
Jody snorted. “God knows exactly who you are, how you hear, and He can get through to you in the quiet or in the storm. He made you the way you are, Locke. Not to fail. I know you think you fail at everything you’re supposed to be doing, which is why you don’t settle for the ‘norm,’ but this baby is yours. God has a plan for you. Her. And Greer. It may be settling in like a ‘normal’ family or it may not. I just don’t know.” She stood. “I’m going to go inside and let you crack the Bible open. I know you have a Bible app on your phone.”
Jody was right. “Hey, while you’re inside can you have Wheezer do a deep search on Adam Crisp? He’s a deputy with Greer but he’s into her and today he got hurt on the job. Coincidence? Maybe. But I want to be sure.”
“Sure.” Jody left him on the porch, the wind sweeping a few dots of chilly rain onto his bare feet. He scrolled to his Bible app and opened it. The verse for the evening popped off the screen into his heart.
I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.
All things.
His hopes of reconnecting with Greer were dashed. But there was a ton of hope where Lin was concerned. She needed him. And he needed her.
“Whatever it takes, Lord. If moving here and taking a job is the right thing and the only way to be with my daughter, then I’ll do it.” Isn’t that what love was? Sacrifice. And God would give him strength.
He’d never been a fan of photographing people. But he could do it. Run his own studio. Do some nature photos on weekends, taking Lin with him. He could teach her the ins and outs of photography. He didn’t have to be out chasing storms, helping scientists help people.
He came inside. Greer continued to snooze on the couch. He was glad she was getting some sleep and that it wasn’t restless. He kneeled beside her and brushed a strand of hair from her face. What about her? How did he feel about her? Confused. On one hand there was no escaping that he carried deep feelings for her. And not just ones from the past that had him falling in love with her in the first place, although those were still there burning bright. But in all this, the way she carried herself, the way she was an amazing mama… New feelings had developed. On the other hand, she had deceived and lied to him. Kept secrets. Locke couldn’t deny being apprehensive about trusting her again…but then it was clear she didn’t even want to try for a second chance, and getting back together for Lin wasn’t right in his eyes. His parents had adored one another. Locke was blessed to have grown up with them as great role models. Lin deserved nothing less.
“Greer,” he whispered. “Wake up. We’ve got to get back to your place.”
She didn’t stir. Exhaustion had overtaken her. Instead of forcing her awake, he stood and lingered longer than he should, battling the war going on in his heart and head.
He loved her.
That was as pure and honest as it got.
After everything. In spite of everything, Locke loved Greer. Had always loved her even when he tried to convince himself he’d gotten over her. He never had. Never would. He wasn’t here to keep her safe for Lin’s sake, but for her own. Because he’d never be able to breathe again if something happened to her. He knew instantly he’d have died for his own daughter—he’d die for Greer, too.
But the heaviness in that truth smothered reality. Because he’d never be able to convince Greer that he wasn’t like her dad. That he would never leave. So, he’d have to work on being content as only Lin’s father.