The bell on the door jingled, the happy sound so contradictory to what was happening in front of me.
Footsteps reverberated on the hardwood, but I couldn’t look away from the two men in front of me. As though if I took my gaze off them for a single second, they would strike.
A throat cleared. “Steven Christensen, Tyson Moss.”
Lawson’s voice made a little of the fear slip away.
They both turned to face him. At the sight of his uniform, Tyson’s eyes went wide, panicked. “We were just talking to her.”
“I think harassing is a better word, and that’s a criminal offense,” Lawson shot back.
Steven scoffed. “We’ve got freedom of the press.”
Lawson looked at him like he was a moron. “That allows you to publish articles without fear of retribution. But even that has its limits. Like when you publish out-and-out lies.”
Anger lit in Steven’s gray eyes. “It’s a man’s story. He’s not allowed to speak his truth?”
My stomach cramped in a vicious twist. They’d spoken to John. And at least Steven had been taken in by him. That charm had always been John’s best weapon. Oren Randal, the reporter back in Mississippi, had been taken in the same way. It’d nearly cost me everything.
Lawson shrugged. “I’d just be real sure your past is squeaky clean before you go around trying to expose others’. People might start taking a closer look at you.”
The threat hummed just below his words. But everyone heard it.
Tyson grabbed Steven’s arm. “Let’s go, man.”
The dark-haired one’s eyes hardened on Lawson. “Shouldn’t be shocked a pig’s trying to silence me.”
“Just trying to keep you from bothering my citizens.”
Tyson dragged his friend toward the door, whispering under his breath.
The moment the door closed, I started to shake.
“Are you okay?” Elsie whispered.
I nodded numbly. “Sorry about that.”
“I’m gonna take her to get some tea,” Lawson said, moving closer.
Elsie flushed. “Oh, yeah. Of course.”
Lawson guided me into the kitchen and began pulling cabinets open until he found what he needed. A few minutes later, he was shoving a warm mug into my hands. The scent of lemongrass teased my nose.
“I think we have grounds for a restraining order,” he said evenly. “You might not get a permanent one, but I’m guessing a judge would give you a temporary one.”
I concentrated on the warmth seeping into my palms. “But then everything would be on the public record.”
“It would.”
I held the mug tighter. “No. It’s not worth it.”
Lawson sighed, leaning back against the counter. “I can have another conversation with them tomorrow if they don’t leave, but they seem pretty damned determined to release this podcast.”
“Roan filled you in?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
Lawson nodded. “Wish like hell you would’ve told me long before now.”
I winced. “I’m sorry. I—”
He held up a hand. “I get having secrets. I’m just glad that you told Roan. That he’s helping. I think you two are good for each other.”
“I didn’t exactly tell him. He showed up when Steven and Tyson were at my house.”
Lawson arched a brow. “And you couldn’t have talked your way out of it? I find that hard to believe.”
He was right. I’d been recognized before. I’d play dumb, come up with a million and one excuses, and always talked people around to my side. But I hadn’t with Roan.
The truth was, I’d wanted to tell him. To open up to someone and let all the burdens go. But I hadn’t gone to a friend. To Maddie, Grae, Wren, or Lawson. I’d gone to Roan.
And I was terrified about what that meant.
19
ROAN
Annoyance had pricked at me all day, making me surlier than usual. I’d snapped at Mindy and had bitten Oscar’s head off until everyone finally gave me a wide berth. It wasn’t their fault.
It was mine. And Aspen’s.
She wouldn’t stay the hell out of my head. I kept thinking about her at the most inopportune times. Like when I should’ve been finishing up paperwork. Or while meeting with my boss.
Sometimes, it was a niggling worry, me just needing to know if she and Cady were all right. Other times, it was a flash of red hair and the gleam of those green eyes—or worse, the way she smelled. A smoky cinnamon with a sweetness I couldn’t place.
I hadn’t missed the hint of attraction I’d seen in those green depths—a look I definitely did not need to see.
I banged a fist against my steering wheel as I stared out at the forest surrounding the Fish and Wildlife office. I needed to get a grip. I’d never struggled with control before. I kept more emotions in check than anyone else I knew. But then again, I’d never been normal.
Turning on the engine, I put my truck in reverse and backed out of my spot. My cell rang as I turned out of the parking lot, so I hit the button on my steering wheel to answer. “Hartley.”
“It’s Law. We’ve got another one. Cougar this time.”
My gut twisted. “Where?”
“Meadowrun trail, half a mile from the south trailhead.”
I cursed. “Getting bolder.”
That trail was closer to town. The kill closer to the parking lot and people. I’d hoped the deer was a one-off. Some freak passing through. But we weren’t going to get that lucky.
“I know,” Lawson said, voice low. “Can you come take a look?”
“I’m already on my way. Probably take me ten to get there.”
“See you soon.”
I hung up without saying goodbye. Pleasantries always felt like a waste of time. A falsity. I had no place in my life for that. I wanted raw and real. To know where I stood with people, not wondering if they would turn around and stab me in the back.
Turning onto the road that would take me closer to town and the trailhead, I tapped a beat on my steering wheel. A cougar wasn’t exactly easy prey to pin down. And they were heavy. Unless the unsub had lucked out and shot one right on the trail, they’d have to move it. And that took effort.
I made the ten-minute drive in six, anxious to get to the scene and see what we were dealing with. Several other vehicles were in the lot, and I recognized Lawson’s SUV parked off to the side. I pulled in next to it.
Jumping out, I grabbed my pack and headed up the trail. The voices reached me before the sight. But what I saw turned my stomach.
The majestic animal had been torn apart. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my temper in check.
Lawson strode toward me. “I do not have a good feeling.”
“Who called it in?” I asked.
“Another out-of-town hiker. The mayor is tweaked, and so is the town council. They don’t want anything that could mess with tourist season.”
“Good thing it’s about to be winter,” I mumbled.
Lawson shook his head. “That’s not good enough for them. They want this person found and locked up.”
I did, too. Just not for the reasons our small-town politicians did. Sometimes, I wondered if anything was more important than tourist dollars in their eyes.
“The hiker see anything suspicious?” I asked.
“Nope. She ran like hell the minute she saw it. Nearly had a panic attack.”