“Griff, this man is extremely dangerous. Now that he knows Ginny stayed here with you, he’s gunning for you, brother.”
Griff gritted his teeth. “Don’t worry about me, Jacob. I can take care of myself.” But Ginny...she was vulnerable.
“Let me help my squad, then I need to get back to her.”
Jacob gave him a worried look, but his phone buzzed, and he answered it while Griff jogged over to the fire truck, geared up and joined his team. The wind howled off the mountain, causing the flames to spread from one tree to another and feeding the fire.
“We’ve set up a perimeter,” Baxter said as Griff took over one of the hoses. “Hopefully we can keep it contained.”
“Any sign of point of origin?” Griff asked.
Baxter pointed toward the edge of Griff’s property where a gas can lay in the bushes. “You got lucky. If the wind had been blowing uphill, it might have spread to your deck.”
Lucky? Maybe. So far, he was alive, and his house had been spared. But what else did Robert Bouldercrest have planned?
He and his squad worked for the next hour to get the blaze under control. By the time it had settled down and died out, he was sweating, angry and worried sick about Ginny.
Jacob had left with the gas can to send to the lab for prints. One of his team was assigned to stay and monitor conditions in case the wind sparked the embers and resurrected the fire.
He removed his gear and stowed it, then headed back to the inn. He called Ginny’s cell phone on the way, but she didn’t answer. He told himself she might be in the shower, but anxiety tightened every cell in his body.
By the time he arrived, he was in a state of near panic. He pulled into the drive and glanced at the unmarked car where the deputy was surveilling the inn.
His pulse jumped as he hurried to talk to the deputy. At first glance it appeared the man was sleeping on the job. His head was tilted to the side, and his body looked slumped.
Anger zinged through him. How could he sleep when he was supposed to be watching out for Ginny? What if something had happened?
He tapped the glass, but the man didn’t respond. He tried again, but nothing. Heart hammering, he yanked open the door, and touched the deputy’s shoulder.
When he still didn’t move, Griff leaned inside, and tilted the man’s head sideways. Dammit.
Blood. On the deputy’s shirt. Chest. Hands.
He’d been shot in the chest. And he was dead.
* * *
MITZI LOOKED UP at him with frightened, doe-like eyes. She was a pretty girl.
Just not Reese.
“You just won’t do,” he murmured as he stroked her hair from her tear-stained cheek.
She wiggled and squirmed, twisted her hands to try to break the ropes binding them together.
Watching her fight made his body harden. He did like a fighter. As long as she learned her lesson and then accepted her proper place.
But her hair was wrong. Not the right color.
He pressed a kiss on her forehead, and she went bone still, tensing as if she might let him have his way if he’d release her.
Silly woman. He’d told her she wasn’t right. Even if he took her or she gave herself to him and said she loved him, she still wouldn’t be.
He gripped her face in his hands and squeezed her cheeks so tightly her eyes bulged. “It’s up to Reese now if you live or die,” he whispered. The same for the fireman. “It’s all up to my Reese.”
Chapter Twenty
Ginny imagined Griff’s beautiful house being destroyed by fire, a house he’d practically built with his own hands, and nausea clogged her throat.
He’d lost his father in a fire, and now he was working to save his own house. What if Robert had started the fire and was there now? He could have set a trap for Griff.
She snatched her phone to call and warn him, but hesitated. She grabbed the burner phone but couldn’t remember his number. Panic setting in, she considered calling the sheriff’s office, but Jacob was at Griff’s so he would protect him.
At least she hoped he did, she thought as she paced the room. She could not allow Robert to hurt Griff or Mitzi or anyone else.
She’d promised Griff she’d stay inside the room, but how could she sit here and do nothing when Robert might be mapping out his attack?
A plan began to form in her mind. She had to take charge. Stop him herself.
Nerves tightened her shoulders as she retrieved her gun, pulled on her jacket and stowed the weapon in her pocket. Then she called the number Robert had phoned from in the burner phone.
The phone rang once, then twice, then a third time. Finally, Robert answered.
“I’ve been expecting your call, love.”
Her skin crawled. “Please don’t hurt Mitzi or Griff,” she said. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just tell me where to come.”
A long pause filled with his breathing. “Did he put you up to this?”
“He has no idea I’ve talked to you.” She just hoped he was okay.
“How about the police? Are you working with the sheriff?”
“No,” she said emphatically. “I’m alone. I just want this to stop. No one else has to get hurt, Robert.”
His heavy breathing echoed over the line. “All right. I’ll text you the address where to meet me. But it has to be tonight. And no calling the police or telling that damn fireman or Mitzi is dead.”
Ginny’s lungs strained for a breath. Now that she understood what made him tick, she’d play his game until she found Mitzi and confirmed she was safe. “I understand. I’ll do whatever you say.”
“You’d better, Reese. This is your last chance.”
A knock pounded on the door, startling her. “Send me the address. And don’t hurt Mitzi or the deal is off.”
She didn’t wait for a response. She ended the call herself.
“Ginny, are you in there? It’s me, Griff!”
She threaded her fingers through her hair, then rushed to the door and opened it. The sight of Griff’s handsome face sent relief through her.
Robert hadn’t managed to hurt him. At least not yet.
She intended to keep it that way. Which meant lying to Griff. Escaping from his watchful, protective eyes and facing Robert on her own.
“Thank God, you’re all right.” The strain on Griff’s face eased a fraction, then he drew her into his arms. “I was afraid he’d hurt you.”