Page 39 of Outlaw Ridge: Griff
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Lily stood in front of the digital evidence board, arms crossed tight, eyes fixed on the newest addition—the photo.
Hannah. Kissing Bobby Ray.
Her mind kept circling it like a vulture over something already dead, but no matter how many times she stared at the image, she couldn’t tell whether it was truth… or manipulation.
Behind her, Griff sat at the desk, phone to his ear as he spoke quietly to someone at the lab about the photo and the ones that’d been left outside of Everett’s office. Griff’s tone was clipped, focused, every word weighed.
They’d showered in the breakroom an hour ago, one after the other, fast and silent, washing off ash, sweat, and the faint smell of smoke that clung even through the scalding water. She’d changed into clean clothes from the backup stash Hallie had brought, her movements mechanical as she’d also tried to wash away the shock and the spent adrenaline. She’d managed to rid herself of the stench from the fire, but not the last two. They were still hanging on.
So was the frustration.
It was mid-afternoon now, edging toward the end of their shift, but there was no winding down. Not with everything still pressing in.
Her temples throbbed.
They were no closer than they’d been that morning before the shots, before the photo, before the rush through cold woods chasing a ghost.
She blinked hard and tried to focus on the board, on the facts, but the images hit without warning, sharp and fast. Of the fire. Of those bullets slamming all around her. Of the sickening dread she’d felt when she thought she and Griff might die.
Her hand curled around her elbow, grounding herself as a curse burned in the back of her throat. She needed to think. She needed her head clear. Not replaying the fire swallowing her house. Not reliving the sharp, breathless moment Griff pulled her down as bullets tore the air around them.
Because if she lost focus now, if she missed something crucial, Griff could die.Shecould die.
Whoever was behind this wasn’t done.
And next time, they might not miss.
Griff ended the call with a short “Got it,” slid his phone into his pocket, and crossed the room to stand beside her. He didn’t speak at first, just tapped the digital image of Everett and Hannah on the evidence board, the one that had blown everything wide open.
“The lab confirmed it,” he said. “All the photos are real, including the one we just found of Hannah and Bobby Ray. They were likely taken with a camera phone.”
Lily blinked, absorbing that. “A camera phone? From fifteen years ago?”
Griff nodded. “That’s why they’re grainy. The quality back then wasn’t great to begin with, and whoever had these enlarged them after the fact, probably recently. Lab tech says that based on angles and resolution, the photos were taken from a distance. At least ten yards out.”
She stared at the image, at Everett’s mouth on Hannah’s neck, Hannah’s eyes half-closed. Intimate. Private. As was thephoto of Hannah and Bobby Ray. And now on a digital board in a cold case office for everyone to analyze.
“So someone was hiding,” she said. “Watching. Waiting for the moment to snap a shot.”
“Yeah,” Griff said. “Hiding. On purpose. These weren’t taken by accident.”
A cold knot settled in her gut.
“Then the question is…” Lily murmured, eyes narrowing, “whykeep them all these years? Or better yet, why take them at all and why use themnow?”
Griff tapped the other image on the board. The one they’d found in the woods just after the shots stopped. The one of Hannah kissing Bobby Ray.
“This one,” he said, voice low, “is what I don’t get.”
Lily moved closer, her arms crossed again. The photo had the same grainy texture, the same slightly warped quality from being blown up. Taken from a distance. Not a moment Hannah or Bobby Ray would’ve wanted anyone to see.
But someone had seen it.
And captured it.
“Catherine,” Lily said, thinking aloud. “She could’ve taken it.”
