Dangerous Lies (Badge of Honor #2)

Chapter 4

FOUR

Moonlight filtered through the trees overhead, casting deep shadows across the woods. Jax couldn’t see the assailant, but he could sense him. The man was close. It was tempting to call out—to order him to surrender—but doing so could put them in even greater danger. Megan had said the attacker had a gun. Jax wouldn’t risk drawing attention to their hiding spot, not with a civilian in the line of fire. His priority had to be her safety.

He adjusted his grip on his gun while keeping a protective stance in front of Megan. Her breaths were shallow, her muscles trembling as she clutched the back of his jacket, but she remained mercifully quiet and still. Life-and-death situations elicited an array of reactions in people—from sheer panic to complete immobilization and everything in between. Megan was terrified but hadn’t lost her head. Jax was grateful for that. This situation would have been infinitely worse if she’d frozen in fear or succumbed to hysteria.

Nearby, leaves rustled. Jax’s pulse jumped as he shifted his stance, scanning the shadows for the attacker. There—a darker shape, almost indiscernible against the thick brush. Could he see them? Jax wasn’t sure. His muscles tensed as he raised his weapon. Behind him, Megan’s breath hitched, and her body went utterly still.

The distant wail of sirens pierced the silence, faint at first but growing louder. A momentary blip of relief coursed through Jax. Finally. Backup was coming. He didn’t lower his weapon or shift from his protective stance. The next few seconds were critical. Desperation could make the attacker reckless, causing him to shoot wildly in an attempt to eliminate witnesses.

Time slowed as the seconds ticked by. Jax could feel the other man weighing his choices. Then, as if spurred by the approaching sirens, the assailant bolted. Jax glimpsed a shadowy figure darting through the trees, the crunch of underbrush trailing behind him as he headed for the lake. Moments later, the sound of a motor filled the air. Not a car or a motorcycle. A boat.

Jax let out the breath he’d been holding and lowered his weapon. He turned to face Megan. She was completely hidden in the shadows, her shape barely distinguishable from the large pine tree he’d used to protect her flank. “Are you hurt? Can you walk?”

“I’m okay.” Her voice trembled slightly. “I want out of these woods.”

He gently took her elbow, and together, they headed for the road. As they broke away from the tree line, two patrol cars arrived. Jax lifted his hand in a wave as Tucker Colburn exited from the first vehicle, his weapon already drawn. Former military, he’d joined the police force around the same time as Jax. The two men had formed a friendship over the last year.

“One perpetrator,” Jax said, in lieu of a greeting. “Escaped on a boat. There’s an old ramp about a mile through those trees. Make sure you secure the area all the way from the road to the lake.”

Tucker nodded, his sharp gaze shifting to Megan. “Paramedics are on the way.”

Jax glanced at Megan, and his breath hitched. Blood coated the side of her face, matting her silky blonde hair. In the strobing red and blue lights, her complexion looked waxy. Her torn jacket hung awkwardly on her shoulders, twigs and mud clinging to her clothes. Jax was still holding on to her elbow and felt her tremble, but she tried to offer Tucker a weak smile.

“I’ll be fine.” Her teeth chattered slightly. “Just need to sit down for a minute.”

She was anything but fine. Megan was crashing from the adrenaline surge that could easily spiral into shock. Fresh concern coursed through Jax, tangled with a sharp wave of guilt. She’d been threatened, and Jax hadn’t believed her. He’d outright accused her of lying.

“I’ve got Megan.” Jax steered her toward his SUV. “Secure the scene, Tucker. And call Noah. He’s the lead investigator.”

Tucker nodded, reaching for the radio secured on his shoulder as he headed toward the other officer at the tree line. Jax hurried across the grassy median with Megan, the SUV’s headlights blinking as they approached. The vehicle unlocked automatically, thanks to the fob in his pocket. Megan stumbled, nearly collapsing onto the asphalt, but Jax’s firm grip kept her upright.

Jax opened the rear hatch and guided her toward it. “Sit.”

She did as he instructed, hugging herself in a poor attempt to ward off the shakes. Jax quickly located his first-aid kit. “What happened?”

“He hid in my vehicle behind the seat. I didn’t see him until he held a gun to my throat.”

Jax wrapped an insulated blanket around her shoulders. Megan wasn’t petite, but her willowy frame and delicate features gave her a vulnerable appearance. Freckles dusted her upturned nose. The mascara coating her long lashes had smeared under her eyes, and the haunted look in those mahogany-colored orbs hit him with another wave of guilt.

He cracked a heat pack, activating the chemicals, and pressed it into her hands. “Did you recognize him?”

She shook her head. “He wore a ski mask. Told me that if I did what he said, he wouldn’t hurt me. I didn’t believe him, so when he ordered me to turn onto a smaller dirt road, I slowed down to escape the vehicle.” Her hand drifted to the matted blood in her hair. “He hit me with the gun while I was undoing my seat belt.”

Anger heated Jax’s blood. A man kidnapping a woman at gunpoint and pistol-whipping her was abhorrent. No matter his personal feelings about Megan, she didn’t deserve this.

Jax gently lowered her hand from her wound and pressed a cold pack against the swollen goose egg. “Did he tell you where he was taking you?”

“No.” Megan winced as the pack made contact.

“Sorry.” He adjusted it, his tone soft. This close, he caught a faint whiff of her perfume, something light with a hint of vanilla. It felt strange to be this close to her. Jax didn’t hate her—not exactly. Years in law enforcement had taught him that sometimes good people make terrible choices, especially when drugs and alcohol are involved. Megan wasn’t evil, but he blamed her for Oliver’s death and the pain it brought his family.

The investigation—his push to prove her guilty of negligent homicide—might have put her in the crosshairs. Knoxville was a small town, and the Taylors were well-liked. Had someone loyal to his family decided to take justice into their own hands? Based on the threats Megan had received, it seemed likely. Jax wasn’t responsible for her attack tonight—the man who assaulted her was—but it didn’t ease his conscience one bit.

Shoving those thoughts aside, he focused on tonight’s attack. “Did you recognize his voice?”

Her brows furrowed as she considered the question. “If I did, it didn’t register. I was scared and focused on surviving. He shot at me as I ran into the woods but missed. I tried to outrun him, but that didn’t work, so I hid.” Her lips quivered as she pressed them together. “He found me. We fought, and then I ran into you while trying to get back to my car.”

Their gazes met, and the gratitude in Megan’s eyes did funny things to him. Jax didn’t want to dwell on the implications of saving her life. It was his job. He’d do it again without hesitation, but everything that’d transpired tonight had created a mass of confusing feelings he didn’t know how to untangle. Nor did he want to.

It was easier to be angry with her.

Jax asked Megan a few more follow-up questions, but none of her answers provided a clue as to the attacker’s identity. Fifteen minutes later, she was sitting in the back of an ambulance, being tended to by paramedics.

Noah had arrived on the scene, and as Jax crossed the road to join him, their boss, Chief Sam Garcia, pulled up in his unmarked SUV. The chief’s uniform was freshly ironed, but whiskers shadowed his usually clean-shaven jaw, and exhaustion weighed heavily on his posture. Jax knew his boss had left work on time that evening—an uncommon occurrence for a man known to work ten- or twelve-hour days. Jax imagined the chief was frustrated about being pulled into the cold night, but not a hint of that complaint was anywhere in his expression as he approached.

Chief Garcia greeted both detectives with a curt nod. “Report.”

Jax walked him through everything they knew so far, starting with the threatening emails Megan had received and ending with the assailant’s escape. “I think he had a boat tied to the old ramp and used it to get away.”

Noah let out a low whistle. “If that’s the case, this was an extremely well-planned attack. Knoxville is only five miles away, an easy distance to walk or run. So the assailant brings a boat here, ties it to the old ramp, runs to town, breaks into Megan’s car, lies in wait, then holds her at gunpoint and forces her to drive here.”

“But did he plan to take her on the boat?” Garcia asked. “Or did he plan to kill her?”

None of them could answer with certainty, but Jax had a theory. “He shot at her when she was escaping. I think the plan was always to kill her. It would’ve been easy to murder her, then use the boat ramp to drive her Toyota into the lake. Then he uses his boat to get back home or to his car.”

Noah nodded. “This route isn’t anywhere near Megan’s house. No one would think to look for her here, and by hiding her car, it would’ve appeared as if she left town on her own.”

The thought of how close the killer had come to succeeding made Jax’s stomach churn. His gaze shifted to the back of the ambulance. Through the open doors, Megan sat on a stretcher with blankets piled over her lap and an ice pack pressed against her head.

“Whoever is behind this won’t stop.” Years of working undercover had taught Jax plenty about criminals. Most acted out of desperation or self-preservation, but there were always a few who identified with a mission. Those were the most dangerous. “He failed this time, but I think he’ll try again.”

“I’m afraid I agree with you.” Garcia rocked back on his heels, his expression grim. “I want to see these emails as soon as possible. We’ll need to comb the entire crime scene for evidence. Megan’s vehicle will be towed to the state evidence shed for processing—fingerprints, DNA, anything we can find. If we’re lucky, the guy wasn’t wearing gloves when he broke into her car.”

“He wore a ski mask,” Noah added, his tone thoughtful, “which suggests the attacker is someone Megan knows. If this is connected to the threatening emails—and I don’t see why it wouldn’t be—then the perpetrator is probably local.”

“Agreed.” Garcia’s sharp, steely gaze landed on Jax. “Detective, may I speak with you privately for a moment?”

Jax nodded and followed his boss a few steps away. The chief’s expression was a hard mask of professionalism, but there was a hint of regret buried in his dark eyes. “I’m sorry to ask this, but it has to be done. Could your brother Wesley be responsible for this?”

Jax stiffened. “No, sir.” The words were spoken automatically and emphatically. “No one in my family would do this. Including Wesley.”

“Your brother has the brains and the knowledge to pull something like this off. He has a temper and has been in trouble with the law before?—”

“Years ago. As a teenager.” A bad temper was an inherited trait among the Taylor men, Jax included. These questions were striking against that temper, like flint against steel, but he was smart enough to keep his tone even. “Wesley hasn’t stepped out of line since leaving the military. He barely leaves his cabin these days.”

Jax’s younger brother—Oliver’s fraternal twin—had once been adventurous and daring. Quick to laugh, impossibly intelligent, and popular were words everyone used to describe him. Now Wesley was a shell of his former self. A stint in the military that’d included numerous deployments and months as a prisoner of war had scarred him in every way. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. He lived off the grid in a log cabin he’d built by hand on a swatch of land that’d once belonged to their grandparents.

Chief Garcia lifted his cowboy hat and ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “Can you think of anyone else who might be capable of this?”

“No, sir.”

The assault had been too meticulously planned for the average criminal. As much as Jax loathed to admit it, the chief had a point. Wesley was smart enough, and had the skills, to pull an attack like this off. Grief could twist and morph into anger and hatred, but murder? Jax wouldn’t believe his brother was capable of it.

Arguing that point wouldn’t get him far with the chief, but logic could. “If Wesley was behind this, Megan would be dead. He wouldn’t have given her an opening to escape, and he wouldn’t have missed the shot when she ran into the woods. He’s an expert sharpshooter.”

The chief was quiet for a long moment and sighed. “Based on your brother’s military record, you may be right. I still have to question him though.”

Jax felt a surge of protectiveness, but battled it back and gave a sharp nod. Chief Garcia was only doing his job. Once Wesley was eliminated as a suspect, the investigation would turn toward finding the real perpetrator.

Chief Garcia settled his hat back on his head. “I’ll interview Megan. Then I want you to go with her to the hospital. Until we know what we’re dealing with, I want her protected. Don’t leave her side for any reason.”

Jax stiffened. Saving Megan’s life tonight had been about duty. Taking on the role as her bodyguard, however, felt like a betrayal to his brother’s memory. “Sir, I’d prefer that assignment go to someone else. And I’m sure Megan would too, given the history between us.”

“I understand your feelings, Detective, and Megan’s, but based on what we know so far, someone thinks killing her will get justice for Oliver.” Chief Garcia gave him a knowing look. “By protecting Megan, you’re sending the message that this isn’t what your family wants.”

Jax’s back teeth clenched. He wanted to argue, to insist someone else take the assignment, but once again, the chief had a good point. He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to nod. “Understood, sir.”

Chief Garcia nodded and then marched toward Megan in the ambulance. She was still pale, but someone—probably the paramedic—had wiped the blood and dirt off her face. Jax’s stomach churned. The doubts Noah planted earlier tonight were sprouting roots and growing. Megan had been telling the truth about the threatening emails. Which begged the question: what else was she being honest about? Had Jax made a terrible mistake in assuming she was lying about the accident?

And in doing so, had he put her in danger?