Finger On The Trigger. Delores Fossen

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though Griff and she were at odds—big odds—she believed everything he’d just said. Griff wasn’t the sort to make up something like that just to get her in his arms again. Though it had worked. Here she was, right against him. Rachel was about to do something about that, but Griff spoke before she could put a couple inches of space between them.

      “Keep watch of the alley behind us,” he said. “I don’t want him backtracking and sneaking up on us.”

      That tightened the knot even more, and Rachel wished she’d brought her gun with her. Too bad she’d left it at the inn.

      “There might be nothing to this,” she whispered. However, she did turn so she could keep an eye on the back alley. “Unless...” She almost hated to finish that. “Has there been another attack? Did someone try to kill my father again?”

      Griff didn’t answer right away, but he did spare her a glance. He looked down at her just as she looked up at him. Their gazes connected. It was too dark to see the color of his eyes, but she knew they were gunmetal gray.

      Rachel also knew the heat was still there.

      Good grief. After everything that had happened, it should be gone. Should be as cold as ice. But here it was, just as it always had been. Well, it could take a hike. Her body might still be attracted to Griff, but she’d learned her lesson, and she wouldn’t give him another chance to crush her.

      “There have been new threats,” he finally said. A muscle flickered in his jaw. “Both emails and phone calls. Have you gotten any?”

      She shook her head. “No, but then I closed my email account and have been using a burner cell.”

      Of course Griff knew that, because he was the reason she’d gone to such lengths. Rachel had been trying to get away from him.

      “How’d you find me?” she snapped. “Why did you find me? Because I made it clear that I didn’t want to see you.”

      There was too much emotion in her voice. Not good. Because it meant she was no longer whispering. Rachel tried to rein in her feelings so she could keep watch and put an end to this visit.

      “Your meds,” Griff said.

      Because she was still doing some emotion-reining, she didn’t immediately make the connection. Then Rachel remembered she’d needed the pharmacist to call her former doctor in McCall Canyon to verify the prescription for her epilepsy medicine. Without them, she would have had a seizure, something that hadn’t happened in two years.

      Rachel cursed herself for that lapse. She should have figured out a way to get the meds without anyone having to contact Dr. Baldwin. Of course, Dr. Baldwin shouldn’t have ratted her out to Griff, either, and as soon as she could, she’d have a chat with the man about that.

      “I’d been so careful,” she mumbled. She hadn’t meant to say that aloud, and it got Griff’s attention because he glanced at her again.

      “No. You haven’t been. You shouldn’t have parked here. If I could find you, then so could the person who made those new threats.”

      She couldn’t argue with that, but what Rachel could dispute was that the person who’d made those new threats might not even be after her. Yes, a month ago someone had put a bullet in her father’s chest while he’d been in the parking lot of the sheriff’s office where both her brothers worked. But that person, Whitney Goble, who’d been responsible for the shooting, had tried to kill Rachel’s father so Whitney could set up someone else that she wanted to punish. Now, Whitney was dead.

      Not that it helped lessen the memories just because Whitney was no longer alive.

      No. Because of everything else that’d happened in the twenty-four hours following the shooting. That’s when they’d learned that her father also had secrets.

      Well, one secret, anyway.

      That, too, twisted away at her. Just as much as reading the threat he’d gotten and seeing him gunned down in the parking lot. But the truth was her father had been living two lives and had a mistress and a son living several counties over. Her brothers, Egan and Court, hadn’t known. Neither had her mother, Helen.

      But Griff had.

      Of course, Griff hadn’t breathed a word about it. Not after the shooting. Not even when later that night she’d gone to his bed to help ease the worry she was feeling for her father. That’s why the cut had felt so deep. Griff had known, and he hadn’t told her.

      All of those emotions came flooding back. “I don’t want you here,” she said.

      If her words stung, he showed no signs of it. “Yeah, I got that, but I made a promise to your mother that I’d keep you safe.”

      It didn’t surprise her that her mother had made that request. Or that Griff had carried it out. But there was possibly another side to this. “Are you using this as a way to mend fences with me? Because if so, it won’t work.”

      He didn’t even acknowledge that, but Griff did push her behind him. He brought up his gun as if getting ready to fire. That put her heart right in her throat, and Rachel came up on her toes so she could see over Griff’s shoulder. She shook her head and was about to tell him she didn’t see anything.

      But she did.

      Rachel saw someone move in the alley to the right of the small hardware store. Since it was only 8:00 p.m., she reminded herself that it could be someone putting out the trash. However, that knot in her stomach returned. It was a feeling that her brothers had always told her never to ignore.

      Was this the person who’d made those new threats against her family?

      Maybe. Whoever it was definitely seemed to be lurking. And looking in their direction. Rachel doubted the person could see them because Griff and she were deep enough in the shadows on this side of the street. Or at least they would be unless there was more lightning. Which was a strong possibility. She could hear more thunder rumbling in the distance.

      “Why would someone want to hurt me?” she whispered.

      “To get back at your father. At Warren,” Griff answered without hesitation. “Everyone in the McCall family could be at risk. Don’t worry,” he quickly added. “We have a guard on your mother’s room at the hospital.”

      Good. Because her mother was mentally fragile right now. Suffering from a breakdown. Helen didn’t need to be fighting off idiots obsessed with getting back at Warren.

      Rachel felt the first drops of rain hit her face. They no doubt hit Griff, too, but they didn’t cause him to lose focus. He kept watching the man across the street. But the guy wasn’t moving. She did see something, however. The flash of light, maybe from a match or lighter. A moment later, a small red circle of fire winked in and out.

      That caused her to breathe a little easier. “He’s just smoking.”

      But Griff didn’t budge. “He’s carrying a gun.”

      Rachel certainly hadn’t seen anything to indicate that, but she took a closer look. She had to wait several snail-crawling moments, but she finally saw the glint of metal. Maybe a gun in his right hand.

      More

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