Chapter 3
THREE
No sign of Laney.
The park ranger manning the main entrance had radioed his arrival, so she knew Jonah was on site.
He tucked his truck behind a patrol car, killed the engine, and unlocked the safe hidden under the passenger seat before removing his holstered weapon and ranger badge.
It took precious seconds to don them, along with his sports coat and cowboy hat, but it was necessary to do so.
Part of his job as a Texas Ranger was presenting a professional appearance even if every nerve in his body urged him to find Laney ASAP.
His boots tamped down the grass as he exited his vehicle.
Jonah headed for a nearby deputy to ask about Laney when she appeared on a small footpath, Scout at her side.
His heart skipped several beats as he took in her mussed uniform and carefully controlled expression.
Without hesitation, Jonah ducked under the crime scene tape, intent on closing the distance between them, when a rough hand clamped down on his arm.
“Sir, you need to get behind the yellow line.” The deputy’s tone brooked no argument. His scowl was fierce, and his grip firm.
“Texas Ranger Jonah Foster.” He shifted his sports coat to reveal the badge pinned to his chest. “Stand down, deputy. I’ve been called in to assist on this investigation.”
The deputy’s gaze flickered to Jonah’s badge, but his expression didn’t lose an ounce of suspicion, nor did he release him. “By whom?”
“He’s with me, Harry.” Laney’s voice came from behind Jonah, and the roughness in it tightened his muscles. He shook off the deputy’s restricting grip and turned to face her.
His breath stalled. Dirt and grass stained her rumpled uniform, and her normally neat hair was mussed and twisted into a bun.
A pine needle was still tangled in the strands.
Her messy appearance and stoic countenance would have been enough to raise concern, but it was the bruises around her neck that hit him like a physical blow.
Dark fingermarks that made his stomach clench with fury.
Someone had tried to strangle her.
When his gaze caught hers, a myriad of emotions flickered in the depths of those gorgeous deep brown eyes. Relief. Worry. And buried deep…fear.
Jonah closed the distance between them in two strides. The urge to hug her, to comfort and protect her, was overwhelming, and somehow, she sensed it. Laney put up a hand to ward him off. “I’m fine.” She bit her lip and whispered, “Please don’t. I’ll fall apart.”
He drew up short, forcing himself to hold back. For her sake. “What happened?”
“I stumbled onto the scene of a double murder, and the killer attacked me.” Laney reached down to pet Scout. The dog leaned her body against Laney’s, clearly attuned to her handler's distress. “Scout came to my rescue. She chased the perpetrator away seconds before I passed out.”
But Jonah heard the barest tremble in her words and caught the way her fingers shook as she stroked Scout’s golden fur.
A whirlwind of emotions twisted his insides like a hurricane.
Anger that someone had laid hands on her, horror at the brutal nature of the attack, worry for her well-being, and a deep need to comfort her.
Overlaying all of that was the realization that while he’d been griping about attending a friend’s birthday party, she’d been in a fight for her life.
He’d nearly lost her.
It was a terrifying thought, one that could cripple him if he let it. So Jonah shoved all of those fears, worries, and thoughts aside. Laney needed his skills as a Texas Ranger.
The rest…they’d deal with that later.
“Walk me through what happened,” Jonah said.
She straightened, chin lifting. “At 9:15, the main lodge received a call from a concerned camper who reported hearing fireworks coming from Campsite 8. I was doing a final patrol with Scout and was alerted to the complaint at 9:16. I arrived at the campsite fifteen minutes later, at 9:29.” She gestured to her truck, buried behind a wall of patrol cars and the coroner’s van.
“I parked there. Scout stayed in the vehicle.”
Jonah knew the golden Labrador had a sensitivity to loud noises, especially anything that resembled gunfire or flashbangs, so it wasn’t surprising Laney left her behind.
He followed his best friend onto the footpath, carefully stepping where she did along a predetermined route.
Forensic technicians would comb the entire area for evidence.
A sheriff’s deputy stood guard outside another barrier of yellow tape designating the primary scene.
He held a clipboard, and Jonah gave his name and rank for the record, which the man scribbled down.
His expression was grim. “Ranger Foster, we don’t know each other, but I’ve heard of you through the grapevine.
Lots of people were talking after that school shooting last year.
They say you’re one of the best. This investigation might not get the same news attention as that one did, but I hope you’ll take it just as seriously.
” An angry glint shimmered in the deputy’s eyes.
“Whoever did this needs to be punished.”
The sheer rage pouring from the deputy caught Jonah off-guard. Kirkland County was small, and murder was heinous, but this level of emotion was out of the ordinary. First the suspicion of the deputy near the vehicles and now a lecture from…he checked the man’s badge…Deputy Martinez.
“I can assure you, Deputy Martinez, I take all my cases seriously, no matter the victim or the level of media coverage. I’ll do everything in my power to catch the perpetrator responsible.”
He meant every word. Growing up as the overlooked middle child in a family of overachievers—Olympic athletes, doctors, business moguls—Jonah had spent most of his life feeling like he didn't measure up.
He'd been aimless through most of college until a criminal justice class changed everything.
The professor had been a retired detective who didn't lecture about glory or headlines.
Instead, he talked about the family who finally got answers after years of wondering what happened to their daughter and the father who could sleep again knowing his son's killer was behind bars.
That's when Jonah understood: law enforcement wasn't about chasing money or accolades. It was about helping people in their darkest moments.
Laney had been the first to encourage that choice.
She'd shared his passion for service. They'd taken different routes—she went military while he joined the state troopers after graduation—but their core principles were the same. She understood him. Encouraged him. In a way that his family never had. Jonah knew his parents loved him, but to this day, they still couldn’t understand why he’d spend 60 hours a week working for what amounted to a pitiful salary.
The attack on Laney made this case personal. But even if it hadn’t been, Jonah would give it his all.
The deputy held his gaze for a moment, as if sizing him up, and then nodded. “We’ll assist in any way we can.”
“Thank you, Deputy.”
Jonah ducked under the crime scene tape and joined Laney at the edge of the clearing.
The faintest whiff sun-dried cotton and something clean—like unscented soap and summer air—teased his nose.
Laney was careful to avoid fragrant perfumes or body washes, anything that would attract bugs.
The result was a freshness that was entirely her.
Unable to resist the urge to touch her, to confirm that she was there, whole and safe, he reached up and detangled the pine needle from her hair.
Her dark strands were silky soft against his fingertips.
Just a brief touch, but it caused his heart to skip a beat.
The reaction was so familiar, Jonah often purposefully tuned it out.
This time he couldn’t. Maybe it was more noticeable because an hour ago Denise had touched him and he’d felt nothing.
Or maybe it was learning about the close call Laney suffered.
Either way, the attraction caused a pang of longing in his chest.
He and Laney had dated briefly in college, but they'd been better as friends than a couple. Fifteen years later, he was grateful for that friendship, even if moments like this reminded him that his feelings had never been quite as platonic as he pretended.
Laney glanced at him, and her lips curved into a soft smile before she ran her own fingers through her hair. “Thanks.”
Jonah let the pine needle drift to the ground. “Mind telling me why the sheriff’s deputies are on edge?”
Her smile faded as her features hardened. “One of the victims is the sheriff’s niece.”
That news was another gut-punch. Just when he thought this case couldn’t get worse, it did.
“Sheriff Morrison has recused himself from the investigation,” Laney continued. “He only has a handful of deputies, none of whom have the investigative experience to work this kind of case. That’s why I called you.” She squared her shoulders. “Ready to walk through it?”
He nodded, bracing himself for what was to come.
“When I arrived at the campsite, it was empty. No one answered when I called out. There was a fire in the pit and s’mores ingredients out, so I knew they hadn’t gone far.
A brief search led me to the first victim.
” She led Jonah across the clearing to the other side of a large tent.
A young male lay on the ground, blood staining his shirt.
A coroner’s technician was taking photographs.
“Tyler Chen, 21 years old and a student at the local university. Majoring in computer science. Shot twice in the back.”
So young. Jonah smothered the anger welling inside him and focused on the area around the body. The dirt and pine needles were disturbed. Bloodstains spattered the side of the tent. He’d seen enough crime scenes to make a logical guess. “He was running when he was shot.”
Laney nodded. “I surmised the same.” She ruffled Scout’s ears in a reassuring gesture when the canine whimpered.
Naturally empathetic, the dog didn’t like being around the deceased.
It was a common reaction among search-and-rescue dogs.
They took pride in finding people alive and could suffer from depression when that didn’t happen.
Even though Scout hadn’t been “working” when Tyler died, she could still pick up on Laney’s stress and sadness.
Broken branches and disturbed pine needles indicated a struggle. Jonah pointed to the area. “What happened there?”
“That’s where I was attacked. The man wore a dark mask and clothing. He was athletic and fast, but I can’t tell you his approximate height or weight.” Frustration drew a furrow on her brow. “I can’t even tell you his race.”
“Eye color?”
She shook her head. “The eye holes of his balaclava were covered with dark mesh, and I couldn't see through it. Everything happened so fast. One minute I was looking at Tyler, and the next I was on the ground.” Laney pointed to a bush.
“My gun flew over there. I struck him with my flashlight, but he punched me, and the blow was enough to give him the advantage.”
She swallowed hard as if fighting back memories. Once again, the urge to hug her rose, nearly overwhelming, but he knew now wasn’t the time. Instead, he gave her a moment to gather herself. “What happened after Scout chased him away?”
“He took off toward the east, away from the lake. It wasn’t until after he fled that I found the second victim.
” Laney followed a broken trail through the trees down to the water’s edge.
A young woman lay partially hidden in the high weeds.
The beginning of a black eye marred her skin, and deep fingerprints bruised her neck.
“Ava Morrison, the sheriff’s niece. Also 21 and a college student. ”
Jonah drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing his mind to focus on the details of the crime scene.
He noted the broken branches on nearby bushes, the footprints in the muck close to the shore, and Ava’s ripped clothing.
“You said a caller reported hearing fireworks at 9:15. Where is she located?”
“Campsite 5. She was driving past Campsite 8 when she heard the loud pops.” Laney seemed to anticipate his question before he asked it. “No one is staying in Campsites 6, 7, or 9. Tyler and Ava were secluded out here.”
Jonah suspected the killer had known that. He followed the trail back to the campsite. Laney and Scout joined him. Needing comfort, Jonah bent down and stroked the dog’s head, smoothing her ears back before planting a kiss between her soulful brown eyes. She licked his hand.
Then he turned to face the campsite. Laney let him stew for a few moments and then asked, “What are you thinking?”
“The perpetrator snuck up on them. Came out of the woods holding a gun while they were making s’mores.
Tyler and Ava ran. The killer shoots Tyler in the back, which explains the loud pops the caller mistook for fireworks as she was driving by.
Then the perpetrator follows Ava into the woods, catching up with her at the lake.
He sexually assaults her and then strangles her.
Right about then is when you showed up. He hears you calling out to the campers.
” Jonah pointed to another path leading from the campsite. “Where does that go?”
“Campsite 9.”
A theory formed in his mind. “Has anyone searched it?”
She shook her head. “Not to my knowledge.”
“We need to. I bet we’ll find evidence proving the killer parked there and used that path to enter this campsite. After killing Ava, he needed to get back to his vehicle, but you were in the way.” He turned to face Laney. “That’s why he attacked you.”
She studied the scene. “Okay, that makes sense. But why strangle me if he had a gun?”
Jonah shrugged. “He strangled Ava. Maybe it’s his preferred method when killing females. Or maybe he lost his gun in the weeds while attacking Ava. We’ll do a thorough search of the area, see if we can find it.” He sighed. “Where is the sheriff? I need to interview him.”
“I convinced him to wait with a few deputies at the road.” Laney stepped in front of him, her protective streak showing. “He’s in rough shape, Jonah. Sheriff Morrison doesn’t have kids of his own. His niece is his sister’s only child. From what I’ve gathered, the entire family doted on her.”
“I’ll be sensitive, but the interview has to be done.
” He placed a hand on Laney’s arm, stepping to the side and bringing her with him, so the coroner technicians could pass.
They carried Tyler, wrapped in a black body bag, on a stretcher.
“We need to interview both families to be sure, but my gut says Tyler was collateral damage.” Determination fueled his words.
“Ava was the real target. We need to find out why.”