Page 51 of Outlaw Ridge: Griff
Griff pushed off the wall and came to stand beside her. “Rhett has both. We already questioned whether he could’ve staged his own injury.”
She nodded. “He fits.”
“But,” Griff added, “Everett holds a license for three firearms. Registered to his name. From the background check, he likes to hunt. Entertains clients that way. Knows his way around a rifle.”
Lily raised her eyebrows. “Of course he does.”
“And Margo,” Griff said. “No gun license. But Jesse found she completed a firearms training course about seven years ago. And her mother owned both a handgun and a hunting rifle. They were listed in the estate inventory when her mother passed.”
Lily exhaled, her gaze still fixed on the screen. “And now Margo’s been clearing out that house.”
Griff nodded. “Which means she had access.”
Lily’s stomach twisted, not with fear, but with cold certainty. All three of them had motive. All three had secrets. And now, every one of them had the means to kill.
Lily let out a long breath and rolled her shoulders, the tension clinging to her like a second skin. The weight of what they’d uncovered tonight felt heavier now that they’d laid it all out. Catherine’s murder, the reemerging secrets, the tangled web of betrayal and silence. It was all still circling in her head.
She yawned before she could stop herself, and Griff caught it immediately.
His lips curved, just barely. “You’re clearly exhausted.”
“I’m fine,” she started to say, but even she didn’t believe it.
He tilted his head, giving her that calm, steady look that didn’t need to say much to make his point.
“You should go to bed,” he said, his voice smooth and coaxing.
Their gazes locked. And for a second, everything else—the murders, the suspects, the unanswered questions—fell away.
She saw the cop in his eyes. The sharp focus. The resolve.
But beneath it, the heat simmered. The kind that had sparked between them more than once now. The kind that hadn’t gone anywhere, no matter how many times they tried to ignore it.
She remembered his mouth on hers. The way his hands had settled on her hips like he belonged there. The way it had felt like hesawher.
Mercy, she wanted more.
She wantedhim.
But she wasn’t the only one running on fumes. They were both spent, running on instinct and caffeine, and tomorrow was coming fast with interviews, questions, and a killer to corner.
Lily nodded, finally. “You’re right.”
She turned toward the guest room, pausing just long enough to glance back at him. “Sleep now,” she said quietly. “Then we catch the bastard.”
Griff nodded once. No smile this time. Just agreement.
And something in his eyes that promised, when this was over, they’d finish what that kiss started.
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Chapter Twelve
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The coffee wasn’t great. Lukewarm and bitter. But Griff drank it anyway. It was hot enough to wake him up, and that was all he needed.
He stood in the cold case room beside Lily, both of them eyeing the digital evidence board like it might suddenly rearrange itself into a neat confession. No such luck. The same photos, files, and timelines stared back at them. More organized now, sure, but still not giving up all their answers.
