Finger on the Trigger

by Delores Fossen

  That probably meant Griff had already been in touch with local law enforcement. In fact, he’d probably called them as soon as he’d figured out she was in Silver Creek.

  “Do a quiet approach,” Griff instructed. “If you can, try to get someone behind this guy so we can take him into custody.” He ended the call and put his phone away.

  She doubted it would take long for someone to arrive, but it would feel like an eternity. And might be completely unnecessary.

  “If he means to do me harm, why hasn’t he fired at me?” Rachel asked.

  Again, Griff took his time answering, but judging from the sound of agreement he made, it was probably something he’d already considered. “Maybe he’s waiting for a clean shot.”

  That gave her another jolt of memories. Of her father’s shooting. They hadn’t seen the gunman that day because she had fired from a heavily treed area behind the police station. But it had indeed been a “clean shot” that went straight into her father’s chest. It was a miracle he’d survived.

  “We can cut through the back of the alley and then get to my truck that’s parked up the street,” Griff whispered. “That way you’re not out in the open.”

  “My car is right there,” she pointed out. “Only about ten feet away. And the doors are already unlocked.”

  “If this man wants you dead, he could shoot you before you get inside.”

  That caused her breath to stop for a moment. Griff normally sugarcoated things for her, but apparently those days were over. Maybe he truly understood that their friendship—and anything else they felt for each other—was over, too.

  “There’s a deputy,” Griff said.

  Rachel immediately looked out and spotted a man on foot coming up Main Street. He had his gun drawn and was ducking in and out of doorways of the various shops. He was still three buildings away when the guy who’d been watching them turned and started running out the back of the alley. He quickly disappeared from sight.

  “He’s getting away,” she blurted out.

  “The sheriff might have had time to get someone back there.” Griff didn’t sound very hopeful about that, though. “Come on.”

  He took hold of her arm to start them moving, and she saw his truck. It was indeed at the back of the alley. But they had barely made it a step before a deafening noise blasted through the air. Not lightning or thunder from the storm. The impact slammed Griff and her into the side of the building.

  And that’s when Rachel saw that her car had exploded into a giant ball of fire.

  Chapter Two

  Griff didn’t bother to curse himself for not being able to prevent this from happening. No time for cursing and regrets.

  He had to get Rachel out of there. And it didn’t matter if she no longer trusted him—that explosion should be plenty enough proof to her that someone wanted her dead.

  “This way.” Griff hooked his arm around her waist to get her moving.

  He didn’t take her out onto the sidewalk, though. It was too risky for them to go there, because the person who’d just blown up her car could be waiting for them to do just that. Nor did he want to stay put in case there was a second explosion.

  The rain started to pelt them, and the lightning suddenly seemed way too close. It definitely wasn’t a good time to be outside, especially since there were metal gas pipes leading into the buildings.

  “Was that really a bomb?” Rachel asked. Her voice was as shaky as the rest of her, and she seemed to be talking more to herself than to him.

  Griff wasn’t sure exactly what it had been. Definitely some kind of explosive device, and that meant someone—probably the guy from the alley—had put it on Rachel’s car. He could have done that after she’d parked and gone to the pharmacy, but if so, it was a huge risk. Because someone could have spotted him.

  Of course, the idiot could have planted it hours ago and waited until now to detonate it. Even if it didn’t kill Rachel and him, it created enough of a diversion for the goon to get away.

  Griff kept them moving. Not too fast, though. He needed to try to listen, to make sure someone wasn’t coming up behind them.

  Or in front of them.

  Because it was entirely possible the bomber had a partner somewhere in the maze of alleys. One who could be waiting to ambush them.

  “Stay close to me,” Griff warned her. “We’ll go to my truck.”

  Rachel immediately started shaking her head. “What if he planted a bomb on it, too?”

  “It wasn’t out of my sight long enough while I’ve been here.”

  Which wasn’t long at all. As soon as he’d gotten word that Rachel was in Silver Creek, Griff had come to find her.

  Normally, it would have been a forty-five-minute drive from McCall Canyon, but he’d shaved off the minutes to make it in just half an hour. And he was damn lucky he had, too. Because if he hadn’t gotten to Rachel in time, she would have tried to get into her car and would have been blown to smithereens.

  A thought that felt like a knife to his heart.

  Rachel and he weren’t a couple. Never had been, really. But Griff wouldn’t have forgiven himself if he hadn’t been able to save her. And her father wouldn’t have forgiven him, either.

  “Keep watch behind us,” Griff told Rachel, repeating the order he’d given her earlier, and he passed her his phone. “Text the sheriff, Grayson Ryland. That’s the last number I called. And tell him where we’re going.”

  He could feel her doing that, hopefully managing to do so while he kept her moving. However, Griff stopped as soon as he made it to the end of the alley. He peered around the corner of the building, but it was too dark to see much of anything. Hearing was a problem, too, thanks to the rain and thunder. He did hear a dinging sound, and figured that meant Rachel had gotten an answer to the text.

  “The sheriff says he and his deputy are in pursuit of the guy who was in the alley,” she relayed.

  Good. Griff didn’t want him getting away. If they caught him, they might finally have answers as to who was trying to kill the McCalls.

  And why.

  Griff and Rachel’s brothers had been investigating that for nearly a month now and had come up empty. Even if Sheriff Ryland and his deputies didn’t manage to nab this bomber, maybe they’d be able to get some DNA off the cigarette that the guy had almost certainly ditched somewhere in the alley. Of course, the storm wasn’t going to help with that, which meant time was critical right now.

  Thanks to another bolt of lightning, Griff was able to get a glimpse of the darker spaces in the alley. He didn’t see anyone lurking there, so he stepped out to get a better look.

  Not good.

  Because all he managed to see was a gun. And that glimpse happened at the exact same moment that a bullet slammed into the brick wall right next to where Griff was standing.

  Rachel gave a sharp gasp and grabbed hold of his shoulder, pulling him back just as another shot came at Griff. An inch closer and he would have been a dead man.

  Griff cursed and pushed Rachel even deeper into the alley, putting his own body in front of hers. It was far from ideal, mainly because the smoke from the explosion was spilling into the alley and making its way toward them.

  Hell.

  First an explosion, then lightning. Now a gunshot. This was not the quick in-and-out that Griff had planned for Rachel.

  “Did you see the shooter?” she asked. She was shaking even harder now.

  “No. But he’s to our left.” In the opposite direction from Griff’s truck. Still, the guy was in the catbird seat right now because he could be hiding behind heaven knew what, just waiting for them to step out so he could shoot them.

  Maybe this was the same guy who’d been in the alley across the street. If he knew the layout of the buildings, he could have possibly made his way here. But it was just as likely there were a
t least two of them.

  That didn’t help settle Griff’s raw nerves.

  His phone buzzed, and since Rachel was still holding it, he motioned for her to answer. She did, and even though she didn’t put it on speaker, she held the phone close enough for him to hear.

  “Did you fire that shot?” Sheriff Ryland asked.

  “No. The shooter’s somewhere in the alley. I’m taking Rachel back to Main Street.”

  Shock flashed through her eyes, and Griff could tell from her tensed muscles that she didn’t think that was a good idea. He didn’t believe it was an especially good one, either, but staying put was too dangerous. If there were indeed two attackers, then they could try to trap Rachel and him in the alley.

  “Hold tight for a few more minutes if you can,” Sheriff Ryland said. “I’ll try to make sure the street is clear.”

  It was a generous offer, one that Griff accepted, but he knew it was going to be tough for the sheriff to manage. The smoke would be cutting his visibility, too, and they weren’t out of the woods yet. There was still the possibility of a second explosion.

  Griff moved Rachel to the center of the alley. “Stand with your back to mine and face Main Street,” he instructed. That way, he would be in a position to shoot the attacker who’d fired those shots at him.

  He took out his reserve weapon from a slide holster in his jeans and handed it to her. Griff prayed she wouldn’t need it, but at least if she did, Rachel could shoot. He knew that because he’d been the one to teach her.

  That reminder brought back some unwanted thoughts. Rachel’s and his lives had been intertwined since he was twelve years old. That’s when Griff had moved to McCall Canyon and started doing odd jobs for her father at the McCall Ranch. That meant they had twenty-four years of memories. Some had been bad, really bad, but this would be at the top of the heap.

  She took his gun, automatically positioning it the way he’d taught her. Griff hated that he had to put her in this position. Hated that she was in this kind of danger. Later, when they made it out of this, he would need to do something to fix it, to make sure it never happened again.

  Of course, Rachel might not let him fix anything. She might try to go on the run again.

  “Who’s doing this?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know.” Griff wished he did. “But if you’ve got any ideas, I’m all ears.” He expected her to say no.

  She didn’t.

  “Marlon Stowe,” she said.

  The name meant nothing to Griff, but judging from the way she shuddered, it meant plenty to Rachel.

  “Who the hell is he?” Griff demanded.

  He wanted to hear every word she said, but he also didn’t want anything they were saying to cause him to lose focus. He had to keep watch, and listen, for that shooter.

  Rachel shook her head. “It’s just some guy who works at the inn where I’m staying. The first week I was there, I saw him and his girlfriend get into a serious argument. I intervened when I thought he was about to hit her, and after the girlfriend and I talked, she broke things off with Marlon and moved out of town. Marlon blames me for that.”

  Griff was slammed with emotions. Anger that some clown wouldn’t leave Rachel alone.

  “It’s probably not him, though.” Rachel gave her head another shake. “I don’t think he was mad enough, or crazy enough, to want to kill me.”

  Griff would soon find out if that was true. Once he had Rachel safe, he would make it a top priority to find out everything he could about this guy. Rachel had been through entirely too much to have to deal with a hothead.

  “It’s more likely that this is connected to my father and those new threats,” Rachel added a moment later.

  Griff didn’t voice his agreement. Didn’t ask her to elaborate, either. That’s because he knew what she meant. This could go back to her father’s mistress. Or maybe to someone else Warren had ticked off when he’d carried on a three-decades-long affair.

  The rain started coming down harder, and Griff felt Rachel shiver. He didn’t think it was solely from fear this time. It was May, which meant the temps were already high, but the rain was cold, and their clothes were past the damp stage. The water was starting to stream down their bodies.

  His phone dinged again with another text message. “The sheriff says he doesn’t see a shooter anywhere near your truck. His deputy is still pursuing the bomber on foot.”

  Good. Maybe that meant the bomber wouldn’t double back. But even if he was trying to do that, it was too dangerous for them to wait around and find out. If the guy had managed to plant one explosive, he could have others on him.

  “Let’s go,” Griff told her.

  She nodded, shoved his phone in her pocket and got moving. While they made their way back to the front of the alley, Griff tried to keep watch all around them, and Rachel was doing the same. He prayed it would be enough.

  “Stay down,” he muttered, when they reached Main Street.

  There wasn’t much left of her car, but still plenty of flames and smoke. Both could conceal a shooter, but could hopefully give Rachel and him some cover, too.

  As he’d done at the back end of the alley, Griff leaned out from the building and looked around. There were plenty of places a shooter could hide. Too many. And Griff didn’t see either the sheriff or a deputy. Still, he couldn’t wait any longer.

  “Keep low and watch where you’re stepping,” Griff warned her.

  In addition to the limited visibility from the smoke, there were bits of car parts, metal and glass all over the sidewalk. He didn’t want Rachel getting tripped up once they started to move.

  Griff took out his truck keys, said a quick prayer and stayed in front of Rachel when they stepped out from cover. He didn’t have to tell her to move fast because she did it automatically. She also started to cough.

  The smoke quickly began to burn his eyes, so Griff picked up the pace as much as he could. He also continued to keep watch. Especially behind them. He didn’t want that shooter coming out of the alley and gunning them down.

  It seemed to take way too long to get to his truck, and the moment he reached it, he unlocked the driver’s-side door and threw it open. He was about to push Rachel inside when he heard a sound. Not on the street.

  But from above.

  Griff glanced up just in time to spot the man on the roof of the one-story building. Even though he didn’t have a good view of the guy’s face, he had no trouble seeing his gun. A gun the man fired.

  The bullet ripped through the rear window on his truck and exited the windshield. The only reason it missed Rachel was because she moved a split second before the guy pulled the trigger. She dived across the seat, and in the same motion caught Griff’s arm to pull him in, as well.

  He shook off her grip, turned and took aim, firing two shots at the man on the roof.

  That sent the guy ducking for cover, and Griff took advantage of that. While he would have liked to go after this moron and arrest him, he couldn’t put Rachel at risk like that. He had to get her out of here. And not just off Main Street and out of the line of sight of this shooter. He needed to get her away from Silver Creek and whatever the heck was going on here. He had to take her to McCall Canyon so they could regroup and catch these SOBs.

  Griff jumped behind the wheel, got the engine started and hit the accelerator.

  “Get down!” he warned Rachel.

  She did.

  Just as bullets slammed into the back window.

  Chapter Three

  Griff and she had managed to get away from a killer.

  She kept reminding herself of that. Kept reminding herself, too, that they were alive. But it might be a long time before that all sank in. Especially since the would-be killer had managed to escape. He was still out there. Maybe regrouping. Perhaps planning another attack. And maybe next time, G
riff and she wouldn’t be so lucky.

  With that terrifying possibility going through her mind, Rachel looked out at the McCall Canyon sheriff’s office when Griff pulled to a stop in front of it. She took a deep breath, trying to steel herself.

  It didn’t work.

  Of course, there wasn’t much that would help steady her right now. She was going to have to face her family, and there probably wasn’t enough steel in her backbone to get her through that. Because she was already close to the breaking point.

  If Griff hadn’t pulled her into that alley when he did, she would have died in the car explosion. Ditto for him getting her to his truck so they could get away. While she was very glad to be alive, she couldn’t forget that in those blink-of-an-eye moments, the outcome could have been a whole lot different. Griff and she could both be dead.

  “Thank you,” she told him.

  He’d already reached to open the door of his truck, but he stopped and looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. That’s when she realized he’d misinterpreted what she’d said.

  “I’m not thanking you for bringing me here,” Rachel corrected. “But for saving my life.”

  Griff just sat there, perhaps waiting for something else. Maybe for her to blast him for finding her when she’d made it so clear that she hadn’t wanted to be found. She hadn’t wanted him in her life, either. However, that was an argument that could wait. For now, she had two other items on the agenda.

  Her brothers.

  Both Court and Egan were right there in the squad room when Griff and she went in. Anyone who saw her brothers together like this had no doubt they were related. They had the same dark brown hair and intense gray eyes. Rachel had obviously gotten their mother’s genes, since her hair was blond and her eyes blue. Still, there was enough family resemblance for people to tell she was a McCall, too.

  Thankfully, there were no other lawmen around, not even a dispatcher. And she was especially thankful that her father wasn’t here. Since this probably wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation, Rachel preferred that as few people as possible were present.