DeSalvo?”
Grayson paused, too. Hailey knew the sheriff well because she’d worked for him as an emergency dispatcher shortly after her arrival in Silver Creek. Grayson had a lot of experience as a lawman and was probably suspicious.
“Is DeSalvo connected to Hailey?” Grayson asked, though she could hear the clicks of his computer keys.
“Maybe.”
More keyboard clicking sounds. “Well, Preston DeSalvo was sent to prison about eighteen months ago. He’s dead. Killed in a fight at a maximum security prison in Arizona a little over three months ago.”
“Why was he in prison?” Lucas pressed.
“A laundry list of charges, including murder, extortion and gun running. An employee, Laura Arnett, testified against him, and she’s in WITSEC.” He huffed. “Now, what does this have to do with Hailey?”
“Maybe everything. I’ll call you back when I know more. In the meantime, can you make sure the ranch is on lockdown?”
“Already have. Mason called and said you’d asked him to go to your house. You think Hailey could be headed there?”
“I’ll call you back,” Lucas repeated, probably so that he wouldn’t have to lie to his cousin.
But the stalling wouldn’t last long. Soon, very soon, his cousins would be demanding answers. Especially Grayson, since he wasn’t just the sheriff but also the head of the Ryland clan. However, Lucas would be demanding them first.
“Laura Arnett?” Lucas repeated. “That’s your real name?”
She nodded. “I haven’t thought of myself as that since all of this happened. I’m Hailey Darrow. For now, anyway. But I’ll have to come up with another identity. DeSalvo’s dead, but no one knows who his partner was,” she added.
“The dirty FBI agent,” he spat out like the profanity he tacked onto that. “And you believe he’s after you?”
“I know he is. Well, one of his henchmen, anyway.”
She glanced around again, praying that one of those thugs wasn’t nearby, looking for her.
“I don’t know how he found me,” Hailey continued. “Maybe he hacked into the WITSEC files, or he could have bribed someone to give him the info. But three months ago, I found an eavesdropping device in my house here in Silver Creek, and I knew my identity had been blown.”
“You should have come to me.” His jaw muscles were at war with each other again. “Or since you were in WITSEC, you could have called your handler.”
“I didn’t get a chance. Before I could do anything, a hired gun showed up at my house. I hid, but he yelled out that if I didn’t give myself up, he’d go after you and use you to get me to cooperate.”
The skepticism was still written all over his face. “Cooperate with what?”
Oh, he was not going to like this. “I have some computer files that I didn’t turn over to the cops. Files that incriminate Preston’s son, Eric. Nothing as serious as murder, but it would have put him away for a few years.”
“I’ll want to see those files.” And it wasn’t a suggestion.
She nodded. “It’ll take a while to access them. I put them in online storage with some security measures. I set it up so the files won’t open until twelve hours after I put in the password.”
“Clever,” he mumbled, but Hailey didn’t think that was a compliment. No. Lucas was silently cursing her for not bringing this to him sooner.
“I let Preston know I’d leak the files if anything happened to me,” Hailey explained, “and that his son would head to prison right along with him. It was my insurance, a way of making sure he didn’t send his hired thugs after me.”
Lucas lifted his shoulder. “But he sent them anyway?”
“No. Preston was dead by then. I think the person who sent the thugs is the dirty agent. First, though, he wants those files.”
“Or it could be his son who’s after you,” Lucas quickly pointed out.
“Maybe. But I didn’t personally mention anything to Eric about having incriminating info on him.”
Of course, that didn’t mean Eric hadn’t found out. Eric hadn’t visited his father in prison. Not once. But Preston could have said something to one of his lackeys, who in turn passed the info on to Eric. Which wouldn’t have necessarily been a bad thing. Because it could have kept Eric off her back, too, had he ever decided to come after her.
“How did you get away from that hired gun?” Lucas asked a moment later.
“I sneaked out the back of the house. I had a car, some cash and new identity papers in a storage unit.” Hailey huffed. “I’ll answer all your questions. I promise. But we can’t stay here. In fact, you can’t be with me.”
He looked at her as if she’d just sprouted wings. “You think I’m going to dump you out here on the street?”
“No, but I was hoping you’d arrange to get me a car. Or let me use this SUV for a couple of hours.”
“That’s not going to happen. But I am taking you somewhere—to the sheriff’s office.”
“No.” She couldn’t say it fast enough, and Hailey went to the edge of her seat so she could take hold of his arm again. “Didn’t you hear me? The office could be bugged. My hospital room was. That’s why I didn’t say anything to any of the medical staff. I wasn’t sure who’d put it there or if I could trust any of them.”
Lucas had already put the SUV in gear to drive away, no doubt to head toward the sheriff’s office, but that piece of information stopped him. He turned, studying her, probably to decide how much of this was the truth.
Before he could make up his mind, his phone rang, and again she saw Grayson’s name on the screen. She doubted Lucas would keep her secret much longer. He would spill everything to the sheriff.
And that meant she had to get out of there—fast.
But how? Lucas had all the doors locked, and she wasn’t nearly strong enough to break the windows.
“We might have a problem,” Grayson said when Lucas answered, and he put the call on speaker. “Dr. Parton called, and he said right after you left, a man showed up looking for Hailey. He claimed he was her brother.”
Oh, God. “I don’t have a brother,” she mouthed.
“Doc Parton got suspicious,” Grayson went on. “And he just sent me the surveillance footage of the guy coming in through the ER entrance. I put his photo into the facial recognition program and got an immediate hit.”
Lucas groaned, no doubt because he knew what that meant. If the guy was in the system, he had a record. “Who is he?” he asked the sheriff.
“Darrin Sandmire. A low-life thug.” He paused. “Sandmire often
