Grayson (6 page)

He didn’t know whether to curse or try to shake some sense into her. “Eve, is this baby worth your life?”

Her breath rattled in her throat. Tears sprang to her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered.

And with that, she grabbed her equipment bag and purse and got out of his truck. The bag went on one shoulder. Her purse on the other.

Well, he’d asked the question, and even though it hadn’t been the answer he wanted to hear, Grayson knew it was Eve’s final answer. She wasn’t going to budge on this.

Hell.

That meant he had to drive back into San Antonio with her. Or else send Dade or Mason. Now Grayson cursed because he sure didn’t have time for this.

He got out, slammed the truck door with far more force than necessary and followed her into the back entrance of the law enforcement building. It wasn’t a huge place—especially considering how much time he spent there. It had a reception area, four offices, two interrogation rooms and a holding cell on the bottom floor. There was an apartment-style break room on the top floor where there’d once been jail cells before a new facility had been built on the edge of town.

Grayson stepped inside and heard the day shift dispatcher, Tina Fox, talking from her desk in the reception area. An area roped off with twinkling Christmas lights and a miniature tree that played annoying tinny carols when anyone walked past it. Mason had already kicked it once. Grayson was considering the same. As far as he was concerned, this was a bah-humbug kind of Christmas, and this attempt to kill Eve wasn’t doing much to change his opinion about that.

Tina looked back at him and waved. From the sound of it, she was getting an update from Dade. Soon Grayson would want that update as well, but first he had to deal with the most hardheaded woman in Texas.

Ahead of him, Eve made her way to his office while she fished for something in her purse. She finally pulled out her cell phone when she came to a quick stop. Her hand and phone had been moving toward her ear, but that stopped, as well. She stood there frozen, her gaze fixed on something in his office.

Grayson cursed and hurried to pull her aside because he knew what had shocked her. The crime board in his office had photos of the dead woman. Or rather what was left of her. To put it mildly, they weren’t pretty.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbled. And he crossed the room to turn the board around so that the gruesome pictures would be facing the wall.

“Wait!” Eve insisted.

She walked closer, her attention nailed to the grisliest of the photos. It was a close-up view of the dead woman’s bashed-in face and had been taken several hours after her body had been fished out of the creek.

“There’s no need for you to see these,” Grayson assured her. When he tried to turn the board again, she caught on to his arm to stop them.

She moved even closer, until her face was just inches from the photo. Eve mumbled something and then dropped her equipment bag onto his desk. Frantically, she began to rummage through it, pulling out the pictures that Grayson had seen earlier on the counter at the cottage.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I’ve seen her before.” Her voice was all breath now. “Well, I’ve seen that hair anyway.”

Grayson glanced back at the dead woman’s hair, though the image was already embedded into his mind. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forget it. But the hair was certainly distinctive. Three colors. Red, blond, black, and the black was only on the ends of her choppily cut hair.

Eve continued to pull photos from her bag, glancing at each and then tossing them aside on the tops of folders and reports that Grayson had spread out on his desk. She plucked another from the bag and froze again.

Grayson looked at the shot from over her shoulder. He recognized the location—it had been taken at the indoor rodeo arena in San Antonio. There were at least a dozen people standing at the railings, their eyes fixed on the bull rider who had just been tossed into the air.

Then he saw the woman.

And her hair.

“When did you take this?” Grayson couldn’t ask the question fast enough. He grabbed the picture from her so he could study it.

“Four days ago at the fundraiser rodeo. I had these printed because I wanted to take a better look at them to see which to include in the story. But I didn’t use this one.” She paused. “It’s her, isn’t it?”

Grayson paused too, but not because he wasn’t sure.

He was.

The image of the dead woman stared back at him.

Chapter Six

Eve hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until her lungs began to ache. “Is that the murdered woman?” she asked Grayson.

“Yeah,” he finally said, his attention still glued to that photo. “Any idea who she is?”

“No, I took dozens of random shots that day. She was just someone in the crowd.”

“Yes. But if the medical examiner is right, this is also the day she was murdered.” He tipped his head to her bag. “I need to look at all the pictures.”

She gave a shaky nod, and while she was doing that, Grayson peeled off his jacket and tossed it over the back of his chair. Then he put the photo on his fax machine. “I’m sending it to the Ranger crime lab in Austin with a request for immediate processing.”

Good. Soon, he might have a name to go with that face.

Eve continued to dump pictures onto his desk, but with each one she mumbled a no. She huffed. “That’s it. The only one I have of her.”

“Then I’ll have to get what I can from it.”

He made several more copies of the picture, one that he pinned on to the corkboard with the other photos. The others, he put in his in-basket so he’d have them for other law enforcement agencies. Then, he sat at his desk, placing the original picture right next to him, and he fired off that request message to the Ranger crime lab.

While he did that, Eve took herself back to that photo session. It had been routine, something she’d done dozens of times.

“Four days ago,” she said softly. “That’s when my hang-up calls started.”

That got Grayson’s attention. He stood and stared at her, and Eve knew what he was thinking. Was there something in the photo that had caused the hang-up calls, the fire at the cottage and the shooting?

Was the killer in the photo?

Eve rifled through her equipment bag and came up with a small magnifying glass. She handed it to Grayson, and he used it to zoom in. She hurried beside him so she could take a look, as well.

Unlike the rest of the spectators, the woman wasn’t looking at the bull rider. She had her attention on the man wearing a baseball cap on her left. Her face was tight, as if she was angry.
Very
angry. And the man had his hand gripped on to her arm.

“I’m pretty sure that’s the guy who shot at us today,” Grayson mumbled, tapping his finger to the guy in the baseball cap.

Eve sucked in her breath. She hadn’t gotten a good look at him, but the build was right. So was that baseball cap.

Grayson turned back to his keyboard. “I’ll ask the lab to put the entire picture into the facial recognition program. It’s the fastest way for us to get an ID.”

Good. Eve wanted that. But she also wanted to get out of there and on the road. It was already past noon, and time was running out. She took out her cell to call for a car rental, but before she could make the call, Grayson’s phone rang.

“Sheriff Ryland,” he answered, and she knew from his expression that whoever was on the other end of the line was telling him something important. Was it possible the Rangers had already managed to ID the dead woman? Eve prayed they had. Because the sooner that happened, the sooner Grayson could proceed with the investigation.

“Yeah. I’ll let Eve know,” Grayson mumbled several seconds later. “What about the search? Any sign of the gunman?” He paused. “Keep looking.”

“What happened?” she asked the moment he hung up.

“That was the fire chief.” Grayson pulled in a long breath. “He said he’s positive someone tampered with both your brakes and the gas line that led to the cottage. Plus, there was a tracking device on your car.”

Eve had tried to brace herself for bad news. After all, it was a logical conclusion about the brakes and gas line, but it still sent an icy chill through her. So did the fact that someone had tracked her out to the cottage.

God, did someone really want her dead because she’d taken a photo?

“Do you park your car in a garage in San Antonio?” Grayson asked.

“No. I use the lot adjacent to my condo.”

In other words, her vehicle had been out in the open. Not just there but at her downtown office, as well. Obviously, someone could have planted that tracking device at any time in the past four days. And during those four days, the person had no doubt watched her, plotting the best way to get the picture and eliminate her.

She held on to Grayson’s desk to steady herself.

Grayson cursed, moved out of his chair, grabbed her arm and forced her to sit down. “I hope now you realize that going back to San Antonio is a bad idea.”

Yes. She did. But that wouldn’t stop her. “Then I’ll go to Austin. I’m sure they have fertility clinics there.”

Grayson didn’t curse again, but the look he gave her showed the profanity he was choking back.

“I don’t expect you to understand.” She got to her feet and squared her shoulders. She looked him straight in the eye. “You’re burned out with the whole idea of fatherhood so how could you understand that for me having a baby,
my
baby, is the most important thing in my life?”

Grayson looked her straight in the eyes, too. “Eve, what I understand is this killer knows you took his picture, and he’ll do anything to get it back. I can keep you safe here in Silver Creek until we can get the picture printed in tomorrow’s paper. That way, the killer won’t have a reason to come after you because thousands of people will have seen his face, along with the woman he probably murdered.”

She tried to shrug. Eve wasn’t immune to the fear, but she wasn’t giving in to it, either. “Then print the photo, and tomorrow I can celebrate both my insemination and my safety.”

He didn’t answer that and just kept glaring as if searching for the right argument to change her mind. There wasn’t an argument that could do that.

Eve adjusted her cell again, ready to make her call. “I’ll get a car rental, and on the drive to Austin, I’ll phone clinics and start begging. One way or another, I’m getting pregnant today.”

Now, he cursed and shook his head. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll drive you to Austin myself.”

Eve hadn’t thought the day could have any more surprises, but that was a big one, and she knew just how massive a concession that was for Grayson.

“You can’t,” she argued. “You have too much to do to babysit me.”

“Save your breath,” he growled. He grabbed his coat and put it on as if he taking his anger out on the garment. He also snatched the rodeo photo of the dead woman. “You’re not the only hardheaded person in this room. And if you can make calls on the drive over, then so can I. If I have to, I’ll run this investigation from my truck.”

He brushed past her and headed for his door, and she heard him tell the dispatcher that he had to leave. Eve didn’t want to think of what kind of complications this might cause for Grayson, but she knew it would. She also knew this was another huge compromise for him. Maybe Dade and Mason could find this gunman today so this would all be over.

She gathered up the pictures and stuffed them into the equipment bag. Her hand knocked against another photo. The only framed one on Grayson’s desk. It was of his maternal grandfather, Sheriff Chet McLaurin.

Despite her own horrible circumstances, she smiled when she saw the man’s face. Eve had known him well, and he’d become like her own grandfather. When he’d been murdered twenty years ago, Eve had grieved right along with the Ryland clan.

She wondered if Grayson and his brothers realized that the man in the photo was the reason they’d all gotten into law enforcement. An unsolved murder could do that. It was a wound that would not heal.

Eve spotted another wound.

The silver concho hooked on to the top of the frame. She recognized it, as well. Grayson’s father had given all six of his sons a concho with the double
R
symbol of their family’s ranch. He’d done that, and then less than a week later, he’d left Silver Creek and abandoned the very family that he claimed to have loved.

No wonder Grayson didn’t want kids of his own.

He’d witnessed firsthand that parenthood could cut to the core. Eve swore she would never do that to her child.

“Ready?” Grayson said from the doorway.

She’d been so caught up in the picture of his grand father and the concho that she hadn’t noticed Grayson was there. He had also noticed what had caught her attention.

“Yeah,” he mumbled as if he’d known exactly what she’d been thinking.

Eve silently cursed the legacy that Grayson’s father had left him, and she stuffed the rest of her things into the equipment bag.

“You kept the concho he gave you,” she commented as they went to his truck.

He didn’t answer until they were both inside the cab of his truck. “Sometimes, it helps to remember how much I hate my father.”

She stared at him. “How could that possibly help?”

“It’s a reminder that sometimes the easy way out can hurt a lot of people.”

He didn’t look at her when he said that, and if Eve hadn’t known him so well she might have thought that was a jab at her decision to go through with this insemination. But since she did know him, she figured he was talking about his family duties. For Grayson, family came first, and that hadn’t always been easy for him.

“Mason put a bullet in his concho,” Grayson said under his breath. He drove out of the parking lot and onto the road that would take them out of town and to the highway. “Then he nailed it to the wall directly in front of his bed so he could curse it every morning when he woke up.”

Eve sighed. So much hurt caused by one man. Their father, Boone Ryland. “I remember Dade told me that he threw his away.”