still with all this restless energy bubbling up inside him.
“Anything?” she asked the moment she saw him.
Court took a deep breath that sounded as weary as he felt. “There’s no gunshot residue on your hands.” He’d swabbed her hands as soon as they’d gotten to the sheriff’s office but hadn’t been able to run the test right away because of all the other calls.
And changing his shirt.
Court had figured he’d worn his father’s blood long enough and no longer wanted it in his sight.
Rayna didn’t huff, but it was close. “Tell me something I don’t know. Of course there wasn’t gunshot residue on my hands, because I didn’t fire a gun.”
He almost pointed out that she could have cleaned up afterward, but plain and simple, that probably hadn’t happened. And it wouldn’t explain how she’d gotten all those wounds. So, Court did as Rayna asked and gave her something she almost certainly didn’t know.
“Janet was killed with a single shot to the head at point-blank range. Her body was in the alley behind the diner, and it doesn’t appear as if she was moved after she was shot. No ID yet on the other woman.”
But the two had something in common. There’d been no defensive wounds, which meant their killer had gotten close enough to deliver the fatal shots without alarming the women.
“No one in or around the diner heard the shot?” she pressed.
“No. But she had her purse, and Pete, the cook, said she had three more hours on her shift. She didn’t have a cell phone on her, but maybe she’d made arrangements to meet someone.”
And that someone had killed her.
That could mean Janet was in on his father’s shooting. Or maybe she’d just been duped into taking the photo that had almost certainly been meant to frame Rayna.
“There aren’t any surveillance cameras back there,” Court added. That pretty much applied to most of the town. Simply put, there hadn’t been much need for them.
Until now, that was.
There’d been only two murders in the past ten years. A drunken brawl at the local bar and Bobby Joe’s. But now they had two unsolved homicides, an attempted murder, breaking and entering, and an assault. It was no wonder Egan had been tied up in the past three hours. His brother was at the first murder scene, and that was why Court had been manning the phones along with keeping an eye on Rayna.
Court hadn’t mentioned it yet, but she was now a key witness, since she might be able to recall something about the man who’d attacked her. She was almost certainly in grave danger, as well.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Rayna mumbled.
It was something she’d said multiple times after Court had insisted that she come to the sheriff’s office. Well, first he’d tried to talk her into going to the hospital, and when he’d failed at that, he’d brought her here instead. It was far better than her being at Whitney’s, and both Rayna and she had finally agreed on that. Rayna had also agreed on the doctor seeing her.
“How are your ribs and your head?” Court asked.
“Fine,” she answered, practically waving off his concern.
But he knew there had to be some pain. The doctor didn’t think her ribs were broken, but there was a deep bruise, and a second one on her head where the intruder had hit her.
“The doctor drew blood,” she added, rubbing the inside of her arm. “Whatever the thug slammed into me might still be in my system.”
Yeah, but it might not give them any new info to catch him. Still, it was something they needed to know so they could make sure it didn’t have any serious side effects.
He tipped his head toward Egan’s office, which was just off the squad room. “There’s a semicomfortable chair in there. Some bottled water, too. You could sit and wait while I call the lab and push them to get an ID on the first woman.”
Rayna stopped pacing and made eye contact with him. “You’re being nice to me.”
Was he? Court lifted his shoulder. “I just figured we could call a truce and try to get through this hellish day.”
Rayna kept staring at him a moment before she nodded and headed for the office. Court was right behind her, but he glanced around the squad room first to make sure all was well. There was only one other deputy, Thea Morris, who was taking a statement from another waitress who worked at the diner. The other four deputies were out at their three crime scenes.
“If you want to go to the hospital to see your dad,” Rayna said, “please do. I know you’d rather be with him.”
He would. But his father was still unconscious, so there was nothing Court could do. Plus, his mom, Helen, and his sister, Rachel, were there. Along with a Texas Ranger, Griff Morris, who Warren had practically raised. He was like family, and he’d call Court if there were any changes in his father’s condition. Or if any more trouble surfaced. Right now, Court would do his dad more good by trying to figure out who’d put that bullet in him.
“You don’t have to babysit me,” Rayna added.
He did indeed have to do just that, and Court didn’t bother to pull any punches when he looked at her.
“Oh,” she said, and Rayna looked even more unsteady when she sank into the chair across from the desk.
“It’s not personal,” he added because he thought that might help. Help who exactly, Court didn’t know. It certainly felt personal. And it couldn’t. He couldn’t let their past—either the good or the bad parts—play into this.
He made the call to the lab, promptly got put on hold, so while he was waiting, Court took a copy of her statement that he’d printed out and passed it to her.
“Look this over and try to fill in any gaps in details,” he instructed. “For instance, do you remember hearing the sound of a vehicle when your attacker fled?”
“No.” Rayna sounded steady enough when she said that, but when Court gave her a closer look, he saw that she was blinking back tears. Waving them off, too, when she realized he’d noticed.
“I hate this,” she said. “I’ve spent three years rebuilding my life, and now it feels as if it’s falling apart again.”
Court had no idea how to respond to that, so he stayed quiet, fished out a box of tissues from the bottom drawer and passed them to her.
“I took self-defense classes,” she went on. “Firearms training. I installed a security system and don’t go anywhere without a gun. Except here, of course.”
He would have liked to have told her there was no need for one here, that she was under the roof with two deputies, but since his father had been shot just yards from here, he doubted his words would give her much assurance. Plus, there was the part about her not trusting him.
“You did all of that because you were afraid of Bobby Joe returning?” Court tried to keep his tone neutral. They already
