Page 71 of Outlaw Ridge: Griff
Griff looked up at them. “Yeah. We let them in. Let them think they’ve wiped everything clean. That way they stop pushing. Stop threatening.”
Hallie raised an eyebrow. “You sure we can pull that off without risking the real file?”
Griff’s mouth quirked at one corner, just a little. “I’ve got about six years’ worth of ops that say yes.”
Hallie exhaled. “Let’s do it, then. Let them think they won.”
But in Lily’s gut, she knew this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
Griff strapped on his vest and then shrugged on his coat over it. Not his usual coat, but a military camo one that she knew had been brought over from Strike Force.
Without a word, he turned and headed for the breakroom. A moment later, the metallic scrape of the trash can echoed through the station as he rolled it toward the side exit where they parked their vehicles. He didn’t go out yet though. He waited for Hallie and her.
Lily zipped up her own coat, her vest snug beneath it, and met Hallie at the evidence room. Together, they carried the decoy files. The ones meant to convince a killer they were destroying Hannah Cole’s case for good.
At his desk, Jesse was still glued to his screen, tracking every lead, running every name. He glanced up briefly, his facetight with frustration. “Still nothing. I’ve been running down their usual hangouts, phone records, traffic cams. No hits.”
“Jacob and Mickey?” Hallie asked, pausing as she adjusted her gloves.
“They just checked in. Still no sign of the suspects, and nothing that points to where Caleb might be.”
Lily’s stomach twisted, but she nodded and kept moving.
They stepped into the bitter cold of the back lot, sleet beginning to fall in icy pellets. Griff dragged the trash can away from the building and the parked vehicles and into the center of the lot.
Lily saw that he’d already put wads of paper towels in the can, and he lit them with a small lighter that had obviously been stashed in that Strike Force jacket. While he did that, Hallie got out her phone, ready to live stream to the FB page that Caleb had told them about.
Griff drew his gun and glanced around them. Staying vigilant. Making sure they weren’t about to be ambushed. Lily hoped he’d spot any signs of trouble before it started. Since this was what Caleb’s abductor wanted them to do, maybe there’d be no ambush. Maybe this would put an end to things.
Well, some things anyway.
Even after they got back Caleb, they’d still need to find the person who’d put this nightmare into motion. But that was for later.
Lily waited for the blaze to catch in the trash can before she began feeding in the files, one at a time. Her hands felt too cold and too shaky, the weight of what they were doing pressing down hard on her chest. Hallie kept her phone camera steady, recording the flames as they grew with each page added, the fire crackling louder with every addition.
Maybe this—this spectacle, this staged destruction—would be enough to free Caleb.
God, it had to be.
Lily pivoted when without warning, a louder whooshing sound split the air. And she saw something she sure as hell didn’t want to see.
A second blaze.
It roared to life directly across the parking lot, only about twenty feet away from them. In a blink, there were flames shooting from the rear of the antiques shop. The fire spread fast, licking across the pavement in a shining trail of gasoline.
“Someone doused the lot,” Griff blurted.
Lily’s gaze dropped to the pavement—and her breath caught. A snake-like coil of gasoline shimmered on the surface of the parking lot, slithering toward them in a gleaming, oily trail. The fire was already chasing it, rolling forward in a hungry line of heat.
It was the opening strike. And they were under attack.
Chapter Eighteen
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The fire flared fast and hot, too fast.
Griff’s gut clenched as he turned toward the blaze behind the antique shop. The flames lit up the back wall, dancing wildly against brick and smoke, but beyond that, the alley was pitch black. No movement. No figure. Just a wall of darkness where someone had clearly stood and struck the match.
