Harlequin Intrigue, Box Set 1 of 2 (13 page)

Laurel read it again to make sure she hadn't misunderstood. “You really think there's proof?”

“We'll know soon,” Levi answered. “I've got the bank manager and the Sweetwater Springs sheriff headed over there right now. The bank manager agreed to open the box because it could be connected to the Moonlight Strangler.”

That was good since there could be other evidence in the safe-deposit box. But then she went through the details again. “A gunrunning operation over thirty years ago? The statute of limitations plays into this. My father can't be arrested for the crime even if there's proof.”

“Unless he murdered someone,” Jericho corrected. “No statute of limitations for that.”

True. And the killer hadn't mentioned any proof of murder. Still... “Maybe if the evidence is strong enough, we can present it to a judge. It would go a long way toward preventing my father from getting custody of Maddox.”

On its own, it wouldn't be enough, and they'd have to find a judge who wasn't in her father's pocket, but coupled with the info Theo had given them, then maybe they could use it to stop him.

Jericho glanced around as if trying to figure out what to do next. His gaze finally settled on Laurel. “I need to take you someplace safe so I can free up Levi to go check on Chase, and I'll get someone to cover the office. Don't tell Mom about any of this,” he added to Levi. “Not until we know just how badly Chase is hurt.”

Iris would no doubt be frantic once she heard about the attack, and she, too, would likely want to go to her son.

“With your mother gone, I'll need to be at the safe house with Maddox,” Laurel insisted.

She expected Jericho to argue, to tell her that Jax and the two deputies could manage it. And they probably could. But Laurel wanted the three lawmen guarding her son to focus on protecting her son, not taking care of him.

“We have some time,” Jericho finally said. “And if Chase's injury isn't that bad, we can keep the arrangement as is. If not, well, we'll just have to be careful when I take you there.”

Part of Laurel was happy that she might soon be with Maddox again, but she didn't want Chase's injury to be so serious to make that happen. Plus, there was the risk of going to the safe house.

“Is it possible to find the people my father has watching us?” she asked.

Jericho went to the window, lifted one of the slats on the closed blinds and looked out, though he already knew what was out there.

Buildings. Lots of them.

Not just across the street but on each side of the sheriff's office. Her father's spy could be on the roof of one of those or maybe even inside. With long-range equipment, the spy could be anywhere on the street.

“Herschel probably has someone watching the roads, too.” Jericho shook his head. “We could probably flush out someone nearby, but there's no telling how many people he hired.”

True, and it wasn't as if her father was lacking for money.

Levi's phone rang, and he glanced at the screen. “Sheriff McKinnon from Sweetwater Springs.” Thankfully, he put the call on speaker.

“It's here,” the sheriff greeted. “Some old photos of what appears to be the sale and transfer of arms. There are also some notes with dates, names and such. And yes, Herschel Tate's name is included on them.”

“But is he in the photos?” Levi asked.

“Hard to tell for sure, but it could be him. I'll have to send them to the lab, of course, but I'll fax you some copies.”

“Thanks. I'm at the sheriff's office in Appaloosa Pass.” Levi thanked him, ended the call and looked at his brother. “I'll wait here until you get someone to cover the office. It isn't a good idea to keep Laurel here much longer, though.”

No. Because if her father's little bird told him about the contents of the safe-deposit box, then he might get desperate. There could be another attack.

Jericho nodded, took out his phone, but it buzzed before he could even make a call. Laurel figured it was an update on Chase.

It wasn't.

Quinn Rossman's name appeared on the phone screen.

“Sheriff Crockett,” Rossman said the moment Jericho answered. “I understand you want to talk to me about Laurel and the money laundering charges against her. Well, let's talk. I'll be at the sheriff's office in just a few minutes.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Jericho felt as if he was being buried by an avalanche.

So much was coming at Laurel and him. Their impending arrests. The danger. Chase's injury. The new info from both Theo and the Moonlight Strangler.

Now, this.

Rossman would be arriving soon, and while Jericho did indeed want to have a chat with the man, he didn't want that to happen at Laurel's expense.

“What can I do to help?” Levi asked.

Jericho went with the most pressing problem—making sure Laurel was safe. “Call in the reserve deputies. I want at least two of them, and tell them to get here ASAP.”

He used the computer to pull up the personnel roster for Levi. The deputies wouldn't be pleased about being called in since they were probably spending time with their families, but it couldn't be helped.

While Levi started to make the calls, Jericho turned to Laurel. Like him, she looked overwhelmed. Scared, as well. Too bad there was a reason to be scared. After all, Rossman hadn't been ruled out as a suspect, and with his partner, Cawley, now dead, Rossman could be looking to blame Laurel in some way for this mess they were all in.

“I know,” she said before he could speak. “You want me to hide in your office. But until Rossman gets here, I can help.”

Jericho was about to assure her that he had everything under control, but then he heard the whirring sound of the fax machine. No doubt, copies of the photos and notes from Sheriff McKinnon.

He tipped his head to the papers that the machine was spitting out. “Why don't you take those and go in my office.”

She nodded, probably because she was interested in seeing if it was her father in the old photos, but she would also be safer in there than in the squad room. However, Laurel didn't jump to get the faxes. She stood there, staring at him.

“You'll be careful, right?” she asked.

“Yeah.” But they both knew that being careful hadn't stopped the other attacks. It might not stop this one, either, if Rossman came in with guns blazing.

Since Jericho thought they both could use it, he brushed a kiss on her forehead. Then, her mouth. He could definitely be doing other things right now, but this seemed just as important as everything else.

“Go,” he insisted before he kissed her again. “While I'm waiting for Rossman, I'll start to work on a place for us to stay.”

Laurel finally got moving. She gathered up the papers and went to his office. “Don't open the window in there,” he reminded her. Not that she would. “And just in case something happens, there's a gun in the center desk drawer.”

Another nod, and he hated that Laurel barely had a reaction to being told about the gun. She was probably still partially in shock from the last attack because there was no way she could become immune to the possibility of someone trying to kill her again.

At least he hoped not.

No one should get used to that.

Jericho waited until she was inside his office before he took out his phone and went to one of the front windows to look out. He didn't raise the blinds. He looked out the side.

Since it was still butt-freezing cold, there weren't many people out and about, though there were several folks eating at the diner across the street. Jericho could also see cars pulling in and out of the parking lot of the grocery store just up the block. No one seemed to be focused on the sheriff's building. And there was definitely no sign of Rossman. Thankfully, Jericho had seen a photo of the man in the background report, so he should be able to recognize him.

Jericho made his call to a friend, Marshal Dallas Walker, and asked him to arrange a safe house. He had to add another ASAP to the request, and the marshal assured him he'd get right on it.

“The deputies are on their way,” Levi relayed to him when he finished his calls. “What next?”

“Call and get an update on Chase. If it's good news, I'll phone Jax.” He'd need to call Jax, anyway, to let him know what was going on, but Jericho preferred to have some good news before he did that.

Jericho returned to keeping watch. Still no sign of Rossman, but he heard Laurel step out of his office, and he pivoted in that direction. Considering all the bad stuff that'd been going on, he almost expected her to say they were under attack. Instead, she held up the handful of faxed photos.

“It's my father,” she said. “Of course, he's a lot younger in the photos, but it's him, all right.”

Good. The lab would still have to verify it, but this was a start. “What does it say about your father in the notes?” Jericho asked.

“He's mentioned in one of the deals to buy illegal weapons.” Laurel blew out a frustrated breath. “But they're just notes. I can't imagine them being admissible in court.”

They wouldn't be. But maybe the photos and notes together would be enough to get Herschel to back off. Jericho hated to bargain with the snake, but if Herschel thought he was fighting a losing battle to get Maddox, then maybe he'd call off his dogs.

Jericho motioned for her to go back in the office, and he made another sweeping glance of the street.

“Chase will be okay,” Levi relayed while he was still on the phone. “He's got a concussion, and he'll need about a dozen stitches to the chest, but the cut isn't that deep. Once that's done, he should be able to leave the hospital.”

That was even better news. Too bad getting the photos and notes had come at such a high price. A woman's murder and Chase's injury. Of course, the Moonlight Strangler had likely planned on murdering the woman, no matter what, but Jericho hated that the killer had done it this way.

“Chase said one of the Sweetwater Springs deputies can bring Chase here to the sheriff's office,” Levi added.

“Not here.” Jericho didn't even have to think about that. “Tell Chase to go to the ranch.” At least there were plenty of ranch hands who could help guard him, and their longtime cook had some decent nursing skills.

Jericho listened to Levi relay the message. Braced himself in case Chase argued about it.

But then something caught his attention.

A man in a dark, heavy coat was coming up the sidewalk across the street near the diner. No hat so Jericho got a good look at him. Dark hair, thin face.

It was Rossman.

Every nerve in Jericho's body went on alert.

“Rossman's here,” he called out to Levi. “Laurel, don't come out.”

“Is he armed?” Levi asked, joining Jericho at the window.

“Hard to tell.” Jericho could see his hands, and Rossman wasn't carrying a gun, but that coat was big enough to conceal plenty of weapons.

Rossman turned his gaze toward the sheriff's office, and in the same motion, he caught onto the side of the diner. But he didn't just catch onto it. The man sank to his knees.

“What the hell?” Jericho went to the door, opened it, and with his gun ready, tried to get a better look.

And he got one, all right.

A gust of wind flipped back the side of Rossman's coat, and Jericho saw the front of the man's shirt was bright red.

Blood.

“Call for an ambulance and cover me,” Jericho said to Levi, and he stepped out, praying this wasn't some kind of ruse so that hired thugs could go after Laurel again.

Rossman lifted his head, made eye contact with Jericho. No ruse. Well, not on Rossman's part, anyway. The man was indeed hurt.

Maybe dying.

It was a risk. Anything he did at this point was. But Jericho kept watch around him and hurried across the street. Once he was closer, he saw there wasn't much color left in Rossman's face, and the man's breathing was thin and ragged.

“What happened to you?” Jericho asked, stooping down beside him. He tore open the shirt.

More blood.

Too much of it.

Rossman was bleeding out, and since the ambulance might not get there in time, Jericho held his hand against the gaping wound to try to staunch the blood.

“What happened?” Jericho repeated.

“I got shot.” Rossman motioned up the street.

That's when Jericho saw a dark green car at the traffic light. The car's headlights and engine were still on, and the driver's-side door was wide-open. Someone had shot through the window, and the bullet had no doubt gone into Rossman.

Considering what'd happened to Rossman's business partner, Jericho figured the man had been followed and targeted.

Since the shooter could come back for another round, Jericho pulled the man into the narrow alleyway. A couple of the diners came outside, no doubt to see what was going on, but Jericho motioned for them to get back in.

“The ambulance will be here soon,” Jericho told Rossman. “Just hold on a few more minutes.”

“I don't have minutes. I'm dying.” The hoarse breath he dragged in sure sounded like a man on his deathbed.

“Did you see the person who did this to you?” Jericho asked.

Rossman nodded, and his eyelids fluttered down. “He said I was to give her a message. Tell her that he's coming to kill her. To kill Laurel.”

Well, hell. That was not a message Jericho wanted to hear. “Who's coming?” Jericho pressed.

“Herschel.” That was all Rossman said for several long moments. “I didn't see him, but I heard his voice. He's the one who shot me.”

Jericho got right in his face. “You're sure it was Herschel?”

But there was no way for Rossman to hear the question. No way for him to answer.

Because the man was already dead.