Chapter Thirteen
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The dryer clicked off with a soft metallic clunk, and Kincade pulled open the door, the rush of warm air washing over him. He reached in and grabbed his jeans and a clean black tee, shaking out the heat-softened fabric.
The familiar cotton and faint scent of detergent grounded him.
He was down to just his boxers, and he needed to get dressed fast. He and Cassidy had statements to give at the county sheriff’s office, and he didn’t trust Becker not to try something slick like showing up at her house for another search.
He was tugging on a sock when the door swung open behind him. Cassidy stepped in, a laundry basket perched on her hip.
Kincade looked up.
And the air snapped.
Her gaze flicked over him, and Kincade felt the heat between them ignite fast and hard. Not just attraction. Not just chemistry. This was deeper. He could see it in her eyes. Feel it in his blood.
“Well,” she said, trying for casual but missing by a mile, “you’re clearly not in a hurry to cover up.”
He smirked. “You caught me mid-operation.”
She didn’t move at first. Then she set the basket down with a soft thud, her eyes never leaving his. “Operation, huh?”
“Yeah,” he said, stepping toward her. “Mission: don’t get distracted.”
Her lips curved, and in one fluid motion, she closed the distance and kissed him. There was no hesitation. No slow burn.
Her mouth met his with heat and hunger, and without a second thought, he dropped the shirt in his hand.
His arms went around her, pulling her close, her body flush against his bare chest. The kiss deepened fast, her fingers fisting into the waistband of his boxers, his mouth slanting over hers like he’d been waiting for this moment since the second he saw her again.
Because he had.
And it hit him, right there in the quiet hum of the laundry room, that no matter what came next, no matter what hell they still had to walk through, this was the one thing he wasn’t going to lose.
The kiss deepened, the kind that left no doubt what they both wanted. Cassidy’s hands slid up his back, nails teasing his skin, and Kincade’s brain short-circuited. He debated it for half a second. Bed? Floor? Hell, the dryer could work in a pinch.
They didn’t have time. They absolutely didn’t. But her lips were on his neck now, and he was already forgetting what time it was.
Then his phone rang.
A sharp, insistent buzz on the top of the folding table where he’d put it.
He groaned against her mouth, pulled back just enough to curse under his breath, and grabbed the phone. Jericho’s name lit the screen.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, then hit the answer button and put it on speaker. “This better be good.”
Jericho’s voice came through, dry and amused. “Based on the timing and your growled greeting, I’m guessing I interrupted something. Should I call back in five? Or ten?”
Cassidy rolled her eyes and grabbed the laundry basket with a smirk, but her cheeks were still flushed. Kincade gave her a look that said this isn’t over, then turned his attention back to the call.
“Make it fast,” Kincade snarled. “Before I forget I like you.”
“Copy that,” Jericho said, the humor fading. “I’m calling to give you an update on Ginny. Her injuries aren’t as bad as we thought. Mostly superficial bruises and a mild concussion. They’re discharging her this morning.”
“That’s fast,” Cassidy muttered.
“She insisted,” Jericho said. “Ruby offered her a safe house. Ginny turned it down flat. Says she wants to go home with Marlene.”
Kincade ran a hand through his hair, the adrenaline from that kiss bleeding into frustration. “Not a fan of that plan. Marlene’s still a question mark. That makes Ginny a walking target.”
“She’s convinced she’s safer with her daughter,” Jericho said. “Or maybe she’s more scared of being alone. Either way, it’s her choice.”
Kincade didn’t like it. He didn’t trust it. But he knew Jericho was right. They couldn’t force the woman into hiding.
Even if someone out there might want her dead to silence her.
Jericho cleared his throat. “Any news from our mutual friend?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Kincade said, knowing he meant Travis. “Still off the grid.”
Jericho let out a low curse. Kincade figured it was frustration about Travis disappearing again and doing God knows what. But then Jericho said, “No, I’m not swearing about that. I just pulled up to the county sheriff’s office. Becker’s already here. So is Moran.”
Kincade straightened. “Both of them?”
“And Vance Harlan just walked in. All three of them in one place.” Jericho’s voice was tight. “Hell of a lineup. Looks like an unholy alliance to me.”
“We’re on our way,” Kincade said, grabbing his jeans and ending the call. He met Cassidy’s gaze, his voice low. “Sorry for the quick shift after that amazing kiss, but three of our four suspects are all under the same roof.”
“Then, the quick shift is necessary,” she agreed, though like him, her breath was still unsteady.
He tugged on his shirt, the tension knotting in his chest as he nudged away the rest of the heat from that kiss. “Normally a sheriff’s office doesn’t feel like a danger zone,” he added, “but this time it damn well does.”
Cassidy agreed with a nod and some muttered profanity of her own. “Feels more like walking into a trap than a sheriff’s office.”
He finished dressing, grabbed their gear, and headed out. By the time they got outside, the sun was rising fast. And it was already hotter than hell.
Kincade kept his hand near his weapon as he scanned the street. No movement. No suspicious cars. Still, he didn’t trust that there wasn’t someone lurking, watching. He didn’t trust anything this morning.
They climbed into the SUV and pulled out with Kincade behind the wheel. Both of them kept their eyes moving, checking the mirrors, scanning intersections.
They were still halfway there when Cassidy’s phone buzzed. She tapped the screen, put it on speaker, and Marlene’s voice came through sharp, tight with frustration.
“My mom just told me about you two trying to push her into a safe house,” Marlene blurted.
“Yeah, she turned it down,” Cassidy replied.
“I know,” Marlene snapped. “But now she’s asking me if I had anything to do with her being taken. Like I arranged it. Like I would ever—”
“You’re saying she asked you that?” Cassidy interrupted.
“Yes. Out of nowhere. I don’t appreciate you putting that thought in her head.”
“We didn’t,” Kincade said. “She made that leap on her own.”
Marlene let out a bitter breath. “Well, thanks to that leap, she’s looking at me like I’m the threat.”
Cassidy glanced at Kincade, her jaw tight. “Maybe we should talk more when we see you.”
Marlene didn’t reply right away. Then a clipped, “Fine,” before the call ended.
With the tension simmering inside him, Kincade stared out at the road and gave that brief conversation some thought. If Ginny was starting to question her daughter, maybe her gut was finally catching up to the truth.
Whatever that truth was.
He made a mental note to speak with Ginny again. Really press her. Something had shifted since Jericho’s last update. Ginny had refused a safe house, insisted on going home with Marlene, and now she was asking if her own daughter had orchestrated her abduction.
What had changed?
He didn’t know, yet, but that was something they had to find out.
Kincade exhaled slowly. “We need to get Ginny alone again. Ask her what made her doubt Marlene.”
Cassidy nodded. “We will. After we deal with the three-ring circus waiting for us at the sheriff’s office.”
Kincade parked the SUV, and they made their way to the double doors of the sheriff’s office, the smell of old coffee and sugary pastries hitting him like a wall. The place looked quiet and routine. But the energy shifted the second they stepped inside.
There was no sign of Jericho, but Becker, Moran, and Vance Harlan were gathered near the doorway of Becker’s office. All three men were mid-conversation, voices low and serious, until they turned and saw who had just walked in.
The conversation died instantly.
Vance straightened, smoothing the front of his blazer as if he was preparing for a photo op. Moran’s expression didn’t change much, but his fingers twitched at his belt. Becker just stared, his mouth flat, unreadable.
Cassidy’s posture stayed relaxed, but Kincade felt the tension roll off her like heat. He kept his face neutral and walked forward slowly, eyes scanning for signs of what kind of game they were about to walk into.
Sheriff Becker stepped forward first. “We were just talking about you two.”
Moran gave a nod. “We’re here to take your statements about the situation with Ginny Lang. Figured we’d wrap this up quickly.”
“Why are you here, Sheriff Moran?” Cassidy asked.
Moran didn’t miss a beat. “Becker asked me to sit in. Thought it might help to have someone familiar with your background.”
Kincade didn’t buy that for a second, and from the way Cassidy’s jaw tightened, she didn’t either.
Vance didn’t speak. He just glared at them. Kincade returned the look without blinking.
Becker gestured to the hallway. “Let’s go to the conference room. Your pal, Jericho, is already there.”
Cassidy gave Kincade a glance that said loud and clear: keep your guard up. Something he sure as hell planned to do for every second they were in this building.
Kincade followed her into the conference room, instantly noting the setup. Several laptop stations lined the wall, the kind usually used for typing up witness statements. But it was the main table in the center that drew his attention.
Jericho was already there, sitting, arms stretched across the back of his chair as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He offered a smirk as they walked in, but Kincade caught the flicker of alertness in his eyes. Jericho might’ve been playing it cool, but he was on edge, too.
They all took seats, the atmosphere growing thicker by the second.
Becker cleared his throat. “You’ll have a chance to write out your statements shortly, but I’ve got a few questions first.”
Before anyone could respond, Vance leaned forward, voice sharp. “Why the fuck did you conduct a covert rescue instead of calling it in to law enforcement?”
Cassidy didn’t flinch. “I am law enforcement.”
Vance scoffed, eyes flashing. “Don’t play word games with me. You had no right to go in there. You weren’t thinking about Ginny Lang. You were hunting for something—something to clear your brother.”
Kincade met his gaze evenly. “Was there something there that could clear him? Something that pointed to someone else being responsible for Daniel’s murder?”
Vance’s face reddened. He jerked back in his chair and looked straight at Becker. “You see? This is a witch hunt. They’re not after justice. They’re after someone to pin this on.”
Kincade didn’t blink. Neither did Cassidy. And Jericho just smiled like he was ready to throw a match into the powder keg.
Yeah. This meeting was heading sideways fast.
Becker turned his attention to Cassidy, then to Jericho and Kincade. “Let’s go over this again. How exactly did you find Ginny Lang? And why didn’t you call it in? That trailer was in county jurisdiction.”
Kincade kept his voice even. “We weren’t sure she’d be there. It was a recon run more than anything. Quiet approach, confirm what we could.”
Jericho leaned forward, elbows on the table.
“I had Marlene’s cell records pulled and cross-referenced with burner phone activity.
We triangulated a location that lined up with where several of the texts to her originated.
The trailer came up as a possible match.
” He raised his hands. “Emphasis on possible. We didn’t even know if anyone was still using it. ”
“You weren’t looking for Ginny,” Vance snapped. “You were looking for something else. Maybe something to frame someone.”
Kincade tilted his head slightly. “You sound nervous, Vance. Afraid we’d find something you didn’t want us to see?”
Vance slammed his palm against the table, but Becker raised a hand to settle him.
Kincade didn’t react, but his thoughts spun, wondering just how far the mayor would go to keep his secrets buried. And who he was willing to pay to do the dirty work.
Moran cleared his throat, trying to sound more level-headed than the mood in the room allowed. “Did Ginny Lang or the guard say anything? Anything at all to suggest who was behind her abduction?”
Kincade shook his head. “No.”
Cassidy echoed him. “Nothing.”
Jericho gave a slight shrug. “Guard went for his weapon. Didn’t have time to say much.”
That clearly didn’t sit well with Vance. His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing as if he was holding back another outburst. The man looked like a pressure cooker ready to blow.
Then, every phone in the room buzzed at once.
Kincade felt the knot in his gut tighten. Six phones chiming at the same time never meant good news.
Kincade pulled his from his pocket. A text from Ruby. He glanced at Cassidy. She was staring at her screen too, her expression hardening.
“Dispatcher,” she muttered. “Something’s happened.”
Jericho was already reading his message, eyes scanning fast. Vance fumbled with his phone. Becker and Moran both cursed under their breath.
Kincade didn’t know what the hell was coming next, but whatever it was—it had just blown the lid off the conversation.
Cassidy made a sharp sound in her throat, something between a gasp and a curse.
Kincade’s gaze dropped back to his screen. The message from Ruby was brief. A local ranch had just reported two bodies found near their fence line. County deputies were already en route.
Then he saw the last line.
One of the bodies is believed to be fugitive Travis Prescott.
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