She’d come to Whistler to find him. His plan had worked. She must have seen the story about Joy. Joy, who looked so much like Reese that he hadn’t been able to help himself.
Joy was gone now though. And he would have Reese again. Nothing would stop him this time.
But he’d have some fun first. He’d toy with her just to watch her squirm and suffer.
He disappeared into the woods by the park, then paused behind a tree to watch the chaos as she rolled sideways on the street to avoid being hit by the car.
Laughter bubbled in his throat. She’d been working out. She looked as if she’d developed muscles beneath the sleeves of that boring suit jacket.
Of course, she’d look better in something more feminine.
His body hardened at the image that played through his head. Reese in a black satin teddy. Red lace panties.
A teddy and panties that wouldn’t stay on her long.
Chapter Four
Ginny froze as the car careened toward her. A second later, the screeching of the tires and someone screaming nearby jolted her back into motion, and she rolled sideways. The car swerved to avoid her and jumped the curb, brakes squealing.
Chaos erupted around her. Someone reached down to help her up. A man ordered people to back away from her. Ginny tried to push herself up to stand, but she was shaking all over. Her hands were scraped, bloody and raw. Her knee throbbed where she landed on the pavement.
“Come on, sweetie.” A middle-aged woman and her teenage son took her arm and helped her over the curb. Ginny’s legs felt weak, her mind racing. Voices rumbled around her. A small crowd had gathered.
The driver of the car, a young woman, leaped from inside and ran toward her. “Oh, my god, are you okay? I...thought you were at the crossing.”
She had been. But...someone had pushed her before the traffic light changed. A dizzy spell assaulted her, and she rubbed her temple.
“Someone call 9-1-1,” an older man said.
“No.” Ginny shook her head and blinked to clear her vision. “I’m fine. No need.”
She looked up into the panicked eyes of the driver. She looked shell shocked and terrified. “I hit the brakes when I saw you falling,” she said, her voice bordering on hysteria.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Ginny murmured. “I tripped and fell right in front of you.”
“But I could have killed you.” The other woman burst into tears, and an elderly woman patted her back to comfort her.
Ginny threw up her hand to stop the chatter. “I’m really fine. It was just an accident, but I’m not hurt.” And she sure as hell didn’t want to deal with the police.
She rubbed the young driver’s arms to calm her. “Look at me, sweetie. You stopped in time. I’m fine now. Really. I was at fault, not you.”
Tears blurred the other woman’s eyes, and she accepted a handkerchief from a gentleman in a navy suit.
“Please, everyone, go back to your business,” Ginny said. “I’m going to my car and clean up now. I’ll be fine.”
Without waiting for a response, she forced herself to walk toward her car. She’d cross at the other end of the sidewalk. Right now, she wanted to escape the concerned bystanders. They stood talking and whispering for a minute, and Ginny scanned the street across from where she’d fallen. Her ankle throbbed, and she tasted blood. Must have bitten her lip in the fall. Her hands stung and her knee was aching. But she kept walking until she found the next crosswalk. It was practically deserted, and the sign blinked for walkers to cross. She glanced around her, behind her, to the sides and across the street before she stepped into the crosswalk.
Wind ruffled her hair and sent a chill through her. Or maybe she was chilled from the fall. Except she hadn’t simply tripped and fallen.
She pressed the key fob to unlock her car, then slid inside and locked the door. Trembling all over, she dropped her forehead against the steering wheel and dragged in huge gulping breaths. Tears burned her eyes, fear pulsing through her.
She’d felt those hands shove her into the street. Felt someone watching her all day.
And right before she’d fallen, she’d detected the strong scent of a man’s cologne. Earthy and musky.
The same scent Robert had worn.
* * *
GRIFF AND JACOB drew in deep breaths of fresh air as they stepped outside.
“I’ll never get used to the smells in that morgue,” Jacob muttered.
Griff raked a hand through his hair. “Me neither.”
They paused on the steps, and Jacob turned to Griff. “You said Joy’s ex accused you of hurting her because she broke it off. What really happened, Griff?”
He’d been too ashamed that he’d slept with a married woman at the time to confide in his brothers when he discovered Joy’s betrayal. “When we met, she told me she was divorced. We dated a few times, nothing serious though. At least not on my part.”
“Was she serious?” Jacob asked.
Griff shrugged. “She hinted she wanted a future. But it was an act. One night on the phone, I heard her talking to one of her friends. She said the divorce wasn’t final, but she was going to teach Wayne a lesson because he’d cheated on her. She used me to do that.”
“That sucks,” Jacob said.
“But you’re thinking I had motive?”
“Someone else would say that.”
Griff’s pulse jumped. “Was I mad? Yes. So, I broke it off with her. That was over three months ago.”
“Do you have an alibi for last night?”
Anger shot through Griff. “You don’t seriously think I’d hurt a woman, do you?”
“Of course not,” Jacob said. “But you know I have to eliminate persons of interest and that means anyone involved with Joy or who had a personal beef with her. It’s just routine.”
The tension in Griff’s chest eased slightly. He understood, but he didn’t like it. “I was putting out those wildfires all afternoon and evening, up until the time we met for burgers and beer.”
Jacob shifted. “I need to bring Wayne in for questioning and find out if he has an alibi.”
“Anger at Joy over leaving him could be motive.” An idea occurred to Griff. “Or if Joy used me, maybe she used some other man as well.”
Jacob’s brows shot up. “You’re right. I’ll speak to her friends and coworkers, find out if she had any other love interests or enemies.”
* * *