They were almost out.
Almost free.
She turned back.
The assailant’s reflection taunted her in a mirror.
But he disappeared as quickly as he appeared. Greer whipped past Locke. He was not going to taunt her. To get away with trying to kill her. Terrified as she was, she had to go back in, but Locke grabbed her forearm and yanked her into the damp air.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” He kept a firm grasp on her and led her safely away from the fun house. “He knows the layout of that structure. He’s baiting you, Greer. Don’t fall for it. I won’t let you fall for it.”
Greer knew he was right but it sickened her. There were three ways to exit this thing. Not enough of them to cover each entrance and it wasn’t safe to cover an exit alone. Looked like this guy was once again going to get away with the havoc he was wreaking.
“What happened?” Locke asked. “One minute I was getting funnel cakes—which I did—but I tossed them when the next minute you disappeared. I barely caught sight of him dragging you into the fun house.”
Greer explained what happened as they made their way to the truck. “He’s getting away with this!”
“No, he’s not. We just need to regroup.” He opened the truck door for her then jumped in the driver’s seat.
“Locke,” she said as the reality set in. “You keep putting yourself in dangerous situations on my behalf. I don’t ever want to put you in that position again. You didn’t ask for this.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Neither did you. We’re in this together.”
It had been so long since they’d been a “together” in anything. She’d missed that.
“For Lin’s sake,” he added.
For Lin. Right. Of course. As they drove back to her house, Greer thought about the stolen laptop and how destroyed her desk was. It was like the killer had concentrated on that area. Why? Did he think she might have taken an incriminating photo? She had been taking pictures all day Thursday before the carnival began.
“Locke, I’d like to go through the photos I took on Thursday. What if there’s something in one of them that can be useful? I know I’m grasping at straws, but this guy isn’t going to stop until he’s silenced me. We’re racing against time.”
And she was desperate.
SIX
Locke loomed over Greer with his steaming cup of coffee as she sat at her desk in the corner of her living room and plugged the memory card from her camera into his laptop, since hers had been stolen. He didn’t bother to mention there was probably nothing to find. She needed some kind of sense of accomplishment. Being tossed off the case officially and coming up with dead ends couldn’t be an easy pill to swallow.
The coffee was doing nothing for him. Greer had almost lost her life in the fun house tonight. Not so much fun. “I want to call Jody.”
“You don’t need to call your sister in, Locke. We’ve been over this before.” She clicked through the digital gallery of photos, studying each one meticulously.
“I think we should have her come out and take Lin back with her. What if this guy realizes we have a daughter and he—he takes her?”
“Then you’ll use your very special set of skills to get her back?” Greer asked.
“This isn’t funny! Stop paraphrasing Liam Neeson movie lines!”
“I’m sorry!” she hollered, her face pale and a slight tremor in her voice. “I can’t think about it. It scares me too bad. I’m not sending my baby away with strangers—even ones I trust.” She laid her head on her hands. “I’m so frightened. I want my daughter. I want my life back.”
Locke set down the coffee and kneeled next to Greer. “I’m scared, too, if it makes you feel any better. For Lin’s safety, and yours. But he’s been in this house. He’s probably seen all the photos on the wall and already knows we have a daughter. And while we’re being super careful and taking extra measures by going the long way to Tori’s to ensure we aren’t followed...we aren’t perfect.”
She popped up her head and gazed into his eyes.
“Maybe we move Tori and Lin somewhere else. Or talk to the sheriff about extra protection on Tori’s home. We’ll figure it out. You and me,” he whispered. “Okay?”
She only nodded and he refrained from wiping her damp cheeks. He was supposed to be angry with her. Furious even. But right now, in this moment, she was so vulnerable. Broken. Frightened. He had nothing but compassion to give, to offer. He could not give her anything else.
He’d have to put his feelings on hold, work through them on his own time. Set aside everything except his focus on protecting her, supporting her—getting them all through this. Locke’s greatest weakness was his lack of focus. He was everywhere. All over the place. His RV was covered in yellow-and-blue Post-its, reminding himself of everything from being on time to picking up a loaf of bread.
But he was pretty sure he didn’t need a Post-it to remind him a killer was coming. With a vengeance. With death on his mind. And he was laser-focused. Locke would just have to pull from whatever deep parts were in him and remind himself that his pain and his anger weren’t the top priorities. Those feelings would end up getting them killed.
“Let’s just look at the photos. We can talk about Lin and what’s best for her in the morning, and instead of your boyfriend driving by every thirty minutes to keep an eye on you, ask him to drive by Tori’s, then let’s call and let her know.” He rubbed his two-day-old scruff. “I’ll keep you safe. And I’ll trust him to keep my daughter safe.” Not that he wanted another man protecting his daughter, but those were the kinds of feelings he was sacrificing himself on. He was swallowing pride. Falling on his sword. All the clichés that came with sacrifice. He’d do it for Lin. For Greer.
“I can do that much. I’m trying to keep it together, Locke. I really am. But I’m stretched thin, ya know?” Her lower lip trembled. This woman had come home to take care of her ailing mother, then dealt with a pregnancy alone—even if she didn’t have to—and then all the responsibility of caring for two was dumped on her. Plus working three jobs. Then her mama died. Her dad was out of the picture.
Now a killer was after her. And Locke had shown up. Maybe...maybe he was supposed to be here now. Not just for the stormy season...but for Greer’s stormy season. His mama would say, “God does mysterious things. Always right. Always perfect. Timing impeccable.”
Locke wasn’t so sure. He felt like the perfect timing to know about Lin was when Greer found out. But he was here. And Greer needed him. And maybe...maybe he needed to be needed. Maybe he could do something right and not fail. To remind him that there was more to the world than nature. Like people. Real living, breathing people. “Greer, you’re the bravest and strongest woman I’ve ever met. If anyone can navigate this messed-up situation, it’s you. If anyone can figure out who this guy is, it’s you. If anyone can rise above the challenge, Greer—honey—it’s you.” He tucked that untamable lock of hair behind her ear again. “It’s you.”
Her eyes misted and she sniffed. “How can you say that? Are you...aren’t you angry with me?”
“I’m a lot of things with you, Greer.” A tempest of emotions swirled from the funnel in his heart. Love, laughter, hope, disappointment. Fear, fury. First kisses. Last kisses. All of it all thrown in, ravaging every part of him. It was the most confused he’d ever been. “But we have to set aside personal feelings and work through this first. Then we work through everything else.” If he could. Could he? He stood, reached over her and clicked the mouse—the computer screen came to life.
Conversation over. He’d had all he could in the personal department for the time being. He clicked through shot after shot of the storm system coming in. Greer had talent. Always had. A few of Lin were mixed in and he chuckled. “She likes having her picture taken.” It was like she was posing for each one.
“Well, she�
��s had a camera thrust her in face since birth. She’s used to it.” Greer laughed, then cleared her throat.
Locke was leaning over her, using the mouse, her hair tickling his nose. His lips were close enough to steal a kiss on her ear or the tender area of her neck below her lobe. “You have another chair?” Time for Greer to take the helm and for Locke to sit next to her at a safe distance that didn’t give him a heady feeling or tempt his impulsive side to do something that would be a huge mistake.
“Just bring one from the kitchen table.”
He rushed into the kitchen and brought back a wooden, straight-back chair. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“Cindy wanted pictures of the carnival, but I also took some personal photos in the mix. It’s possible I got something that I wasn’t meaning to.” She paused, then pointed at the screen. “Hey, there’s Marty!”
“Marty, the handsome possible killer.”
Greer rolled her eyes. “Look, he’s with his assistant and Tiny Tim. What do you make of it?”
Locke frowned. “The thing is, these people are coworkers. Even like family. So, what might be innocent, might be innocent. Or...it might not. All we know is that the knife wounds on Tiny Tim match the same knife wounds on Flip. There are several possibilities, but the one I’m leaning toward is Flip blackmailed the killer—for what, we don’t know—and he killed him for it. Why he murdered Tim is another mystery. Marty seemed to let on like he knew. But he could also be toying with us.”
Greer faced him and chewed on the tip of her thumb. “The question is what was Flip blackmailing him over? And who is the killer?”
“I think it might be easier to find out the what than the who. Rumors fly. People talk. If we can find out the what it could lead us to the who.”
Smiling, Greer nudged Locke playfully. “You sure you didn’t miss your calling?”
“I’m sure.” Did she want him to be in law enforcement? Even now she was encouraging him. He’d always suspected that was part of the reason she’d broken things off. He wasn’t the man she wanted him to be. It wouldn’t be too far of a stretch. Had she realized—before finding out about Lin—that she didn’t want to travel the world, photograph storms...be with Locke? He couldn’t think about it. Didn’t want to. “I’m going to nuke my coffee.” Nurse his wounds. He walked to the kitchen.
“Locke, I think we need to find out how many men work the fun house. He was overly familiar with it.”
Locke reentered the living room, glad to keep the conversation on the case. “I agree. Could you recognize his voice?”
“No. I don’t know if he was masking it to protect himself in case I knew his voice, or in case I’d recognize it later on if I interviewed him. I doubt he’d know I’ve been basically banned from working the case. Adam and Ben are over interviews. They’re still working through the crowd from Southern Comfort that night to see if anyone can place Ray Don there during Flip’s murder and my attack. No one seems to be missing a maintenance uniform. So he either has one or someone is lying.”
Locke sipped his coffee. The last thing he needed was more caffeine. “Marty Wise fits the build of your attacker and he’s a skilled knife thrower.”
“There are always backups. Someone else who knows how to throw knives and knows the layout of the fun house. You really think it’s Marty Wise?”
“I don’t know. I know I don’t like him. I know he’s hiding something and that assistant, Star—she’s shady. I don’t trust him. I don’t trust any of ’em.”
“Neither do I.” She yawned and clicked through more photos. An hour later, they still had nothing that looked suspicious. It was nearing early morning hours. “I have to get some sleep, Locke.”
So did he. His eyes burned and he could hardly keep them open. “Wake me early to see Lin. I didn’t realize how much free time I’d have when I took this job.”
“You like having free time?”
“I like not having a schedule.”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “I know. ’Night.”
Why did it feel like Greer had just closed a door in his face?
* * *
Saturday morning brought a nip in the air, but sunshine to the gray days that had been going on since last Thursday. They’d stopped by to see Lin first thing this morning—going the long way around and using country back roads to ensure they hadn’t been followed, that it had been safe. After leaving Tori’s, they ate breakfast at Pearl’s café. Regulars had perched on stools at the counter. The stares hadn’t been super pleasant, but Greer couldn’t hide who Locke was anymore. Unfortunately, the questions his presence would raise when he wasn’t around to hear would be painful. Were they getting back together? Where has he been? They would all look at him as if he was a deadbeat dad. But he’d been proving he was good with Lin, even if he seemed nervous around her. She’d even reached for him twice—after he’d fed her pancakes this morning at Tori’s.
No one could say her baby girl wasn’t smart. Reach for the man who would spoil you rotten. Locke had always spoiled Greer. He was a romantic at heart. He’d never admit it, but he was. Flowers for no reason. Dancing in the middle of the storm. Kissing on a carousel. They’d ignored the one at the fair, as if they didn’t have a romantic history with the ride. Easier for them both.
Now, it wasn’t quite noon and Greer stood staring at Mama’s garage. Unable to investigate officially and not much else happening in town, she was fit to be tied and as antsy as Locke on a normal day. If the sheriff knew she’d been unofficially investigating, he’d give her the business, but she couldn’t sit on her hands. Except here she was, doing just that. Sort of.
This chore was never-ending and it was nice to have some help.
Locke looked at a ten-speed bicycle. “This was yours?”
“Yes, and I don’t see me riding it ever again so I’m adding it to the list.” She’d been going through boxes and clutter for weeks, posting things on the online swap-and-shop sites. Making a little extra money. Every penny helped. She might get fifty bucks for the old red bike. Might not be much to someone, but it was diapers and baby food to Greer.
Two elementary-aged boys pedaled on the sidewalk across the street. “Hey, Miss Montgomery. You need us to rake gum balls? We’re doing it for ten dollars!”
She needed someone to cut down the sweet gum tree altogether but it was great shade. “Sorry, guys. I’m doing my own raking.”
“Are you going to sell the house?” Locke asked.
“No, the payments are pretty low and it’s all Lin and I need.” Quiet street. Mostly older neighbors, but the yard was a nice size and the backyard was already fenced in, which made it safer for Lin to play out there when she got old enough. At some point it would need a new roof and the siding needed paint.
Locke left the bike and walked around the front yard, staring at the house. “You got a ladder?”
“Yeah.” She walked out of the garage. “Why?”
“Gutters need cleaning out. I’m gonna do that.”
He wanted to clean the gutters? For Lin? Lin wouldn’t care if the gutters ran clear or were clogged until kingdom come. All she cared about were clean diapers, bottles and baby food. But their hands were tied in the investigation and they were both feeling it. Doing household chores would help them both work through the dread of uncertainty, and the fact that a killer was after Greer and Lin could even be in possible danger. “That’s not necessary. I can do it or—”
“Don’t even say the deputy will. I can do it. Where’s the ladder?”
“Side of the house.”
He stomped off to the ladder. When he returned, he leaned it against the siding near the downspout. “I need a trowel and a bucket.” Jaw clenched, no eye contact. He was irritated. She sighed and dug around until she found what he needed, plus a pair of extra large gloves. Hollister must have done some yard work for Mama and left them. She handed th
em to Locke, who was standing at the foot of the ladder.
“He’s not my boyfriend. We aren’t dating. I’m not interested in him like that, and he’s not interested in me. There. Now, you know.”
Locke’s eyes lightened and his jaw unclenched. “You sure about that?”
“Does it matter?”
He climbed the first rung. “I suppose not. It’s just...nothing.” He continued to climb. “Thanks for the gloves and trowel.”
It was just what? Greer didn’t bother to press. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Returning to the garage, she sorted and listed things she could part with. Things Hollister wouldn’t want. If she called him and told him what was going on, he’d be on the first flight out from Mississippi. If she didn’t call him and he found out, he’d kill her himself. Former Navy SEAL big brothers were like that.
Groaning, she picked up her cell phone and called him.
“What’s up, little sis?” The sound of a four-wheeler cranking filtered through the line.
“What are you doing, Hollis?” she asked.
“About to do some training. What are you doing?” Hollis was the director for the search-and-rescue. Had been for the last six years.
“Cleaning out Mama’s garage.”
“Put it off and I’ll come next weekend and help you. You shouldn’t have to do it alone, Greer. Please don’t do it alone.” Hollis had a gruff voice like their father, but he wasn’t anything like Dad, even if he looked just like him, too.
Greer peeked out the open garage. Locke was humming and scooping gunk out of the gutters. “I’m not...alone.”
“Adam there with you?”
She sighed. “No. Hollis, I have to tell you something. Two somethings and before you drop what you’re doing and come with an arsenal of guns, hear me out. First, I’m fine. Really.”
“Greer, you’re doing a terrible job at keeping me from my arsenal of guns and flying out this very second. What’s going on?”
“Locke is here. Cleaning out...my gutters.”
Killer Exposure Page 8
