Linc was worried. His brother was in considerable danger and there wasn’t a lot more he could do. He’d called Quinn Taggart and pressed him for details on the murders of Josh’s two marine buddies. Quinn had broken protocol and reluctantly filled him in.
Linc had also talked to Deke Logan. He had used the spec ops soldier turned security pro when he and Carly had been threatened by a drug lord. Linc trusted Deke, hired him to set up a security team around the property twenty-four /seven. But two thousand acres was a big chunk of land. There was always a chance the killer could get through.
He couldn’t do much more about protection, but he could do something about Damon Bridger. This morning he’d phoned Ross Townsend, the PI he had working in Phoenix.
According to Ross, Bridger’s alibi held up. There was nothing to connect Damon to the abduction of Lisa Shane or the murder of the redheaded waitress, no reason to believe he had anything to do with either of them.
But as Linc suspected and Townsend was soon able to confirm, Tory Bradford wasn’t the first woman Damon had abused.
Townsend had convinced one of Bridger’s victims to come forward, a cocktail waitress who had met Damon at the nightclub where she worked, a place called the Peacock. Suzy Solomon had agreed to talk to Aaron Guinness, the attorney Nate Temple worked with in Phoenix. Guinness was filing a civil suit for assault and battery on her behalf.
According to Suzy, Damon had seemed like the man of her dreams when they’d started dating, but after the first few weeks, he’d grown more and more possessive—and more and more violent.
Then late one night he’d shown up at her apartment. They’d argued and Bridger had used his fists to prove his point.
Suzy had refused to see him again and Damon had written her a five-hundred-dollar check to keep quiet. Afraid to go against him, Suzy had let the matter drop.
Apparently, she regretted her decision. With assurances that she would be provided with protection, she had agreed to the lawsuit. Townsend had found another woman who could probably be convinced to file charges, as well.
If things went according to plan, she wouldn’t need to bother.
Linc smiled as he leaned back in the chair behind his teakwood desk in the Dallas office.
Damon Bridger wanted trouble?
Lincoln Cain was just the man to give it to him.
*
Tory was eager to finish the webpage. She needed those ranch pictures badly. But Josh was determined to put off their photo safari until the FBI had the terrorist in custody.
“What if they don’t catch him?” she asked as she carried his dinner, leg of lamb with mint sauce, mashed potatoes, and brussels sprouts, over to the table and set the plate down in front of him.
Josh had worked late, not unusual for him. Tory had already fed Ivy and herself. The little girl was in the living room now, playing a video game on the Fire tablet Josh had bought for her on the Internet.
Tory didn’t think he was ready for all of them to sit down like a family at the dinner table. She didn’t want him to feel even more trapped than he did already.
Tory wasn’t ready for that, either. Ivy was growing more and more attached to Josh. If things didn’t work out and they had to leave the ranch, it was going to be hard on her daughter. She didn’t want to make things worse.
“We need those pictures,” she continued. “Your brother has armed men running all over the ranch on four-wheelers. I’m not the target. How about letting me go out on one of the ATVs and take some photos?”
Josh cut into the slice of lamb on his plate. “No way are you going out there by yourself. Besides, my camera is an old piece of crap. You said as much yourself.”
“I didn’t say it like that, and I can probably make do with it for a while. How about bringing the horses in one at a time? We could get the individual photos completed, get that part of the webpage done.”
He nodded. “That could work. But we still need a decent camera.” He downed a bite of lamb and groaned in pleasure. “Maybe by the time we get the preliminary photos done, the FBI will have the terrorist in custody.”
“Maybe.” Though it seemed like a long shot to her.
“We’ll head into Dallas tomorrow,” Josh said between bites. “Pick up a camera and whatever gear you need. You know more about this kind of thing than I do.”
“You think it’s safe to leave the ranch?”
“I can’t hide forever, and I’ll keep my eyes open.”
Since she really wanted to go, she didn’t argue. “I wish I still had my old Canon,” she grumbled. “I got low on money in Albuquerque and hocked it. I don’t even have a cell phone camera anymore.”
Josh took another bite of lamb. “Go on the Internet, find a good-quality camera shop in Dallas.”
“All right.” She went over to the counter and cut him a slice of carrot cake, walked back and set the plate down on the table. “Star would be fantastic on the front page of the website. I think we should start with him.”
“Good idea.” Josh eyed the cake with anticipation. “We’ll buy everything we need, get set up, then bring the stallion in and do the photos.”
He finished the pile of mashed potatoes he’d drenched in butter. “This is so freaking good.” He looked up at her and grinned. The shadow of beard along his jaw made him look like an outlaw. “Best deal I ever made. Hiring you to cook.”
She just smiled. One thing about Josh Cain, he appreciated a home-cooked meal. Good thing he burned off a jillion calories every day.
The evening slipped away. The following morning, Tory dressed with special care, choosing a flirty little yellow sundress with a swingy skirt and wide self-belt, one of the few summer dresses she owned.
A pair of strappy white open-toed sandals had survived the journey from Phoenix. They looked pretty with the tiny white daisies in the yellow fabric and the big white hoops in her ears.
“Wow,” Josh said when he arrived at the front door to pick her up. “Baby, you look gorgeous.” Those hot blue eyes traveled over her, head to foot. She thought that if Ivy hadn’t been there, they might not have made it to the truck without a trip back to the bedroom.
“Umm . . . thank you.”
She was surprised to see Josh in a pair of tan Wrangler dress jeans and a short-sleeved yellow print shirt. Clean-shaven, he wore polished lizard boots the color of whiskey, and apparently, he was leaving his cowboy hat behind. They were, after all, going into the big city.
He looked delicious.
The only hitch in what was starting as a very special day was the glimpse of a small semiautomatic pistol beneath his shirt in a holster clipped to his belt.
He was licensed to carry. He was a skilled marksman. Tory decided to pretend it wasn’t there.
“You ready?” Josh asked.
Ivy ran up to him. “I’m ready, Josh!” She lifted her arms so he could pick her up and Josh obliged, propping her against his shoulder as he walked her out to his truck and set her in her booster seat.
“Pretty soon you’ll be too heavy for Josh to lift,” Tory said, blushing at the thought of how easily he carried her into the bedroom whenever it suited his fancy.
They dropped Ivy off at Clara Thompson’s and headed the pickup toward Dallas. For the past few days, the weather had been in the nineties. Today was even hotter, the sun burning down so that mirages formed on the asphalt in the road ahead as the truck rolled along.
The camera shop, McFarland’s, was in a strip mall on Northwest Highway in Garland. They took I-30 toward Dallas, turned onto 645 north, exited the freeway, and a few minutes later, the pickup pulled into the lot and parked in a space right in front of the shop.
The stores were all glass-windowed, and a grassy, treed meridian bordered the opposite side of the parking lot.
McFarland’s appeared to sell high-quality equipment and be as professional as Internet reviews suggested. Tory started looking at low-priced cameras, but Josh insisted on purchasing something better.