Page 47 of Outlaw Ridge: Griff
Doesn’t.
She looked away, swallowed hard, then gave a small, tight nod. “Right. I… of course. Let me know if you need anything.”
Griff met her gaze briefly, searching for any flicker of something more than shock. Fear, maybe, or guilt. But saw nothing but the stunned glaze of someone trying to process that their powerful, untouchable boss had just been murdered in broad daylight.
No fuss about a warrant. That was one less complication for Hallie to handle. One less delay. And they needed every second they could get.
Griff didn’t move yet. He kept his voice calm, even. “Holly, when was the last time you saw your boss?”
She blinked, refocusing. “A little before two o’clock,” she said. “That was the last time I saw her come out of her office.”
Griff glanced at his watch. It was just past three-thirty. So Catherine had left less than two hours ago, and with the ME’sestimated TOD, there wasn’t much time between her departure and her murder.
“Did she have any appointments on her calendar?” he pressed.
Holly shook her head slowly. “No… nothing scheduled after lunch. But she seemed distracted all morning, and when she left, she didn’t say where she was going. She didn’t even take her coat.” Holly paused, clearly replaying it. “She moved fast, like it was important.”
Griff nodded. “Did she take her car?”
“I-I don’t know.” Holly frowned. “I didn’t hear it start. I mean, maybe? I was on a call.”
He caught Lily’s glance and gave a subtle nod. They still needed to locate the car. And whatever had pulled Catherine out of this office in such a rush,thatmight’ve been what got her killed.
They made their way down to the hall, retracing the same path they’d taken that morning. When they reached Catherine’s office, Griff pushed open the door, and the first thing he noticed was the lock. It was scratched and slightly bent at the strike plate.
Not broken. But definitely jimmied.
He exchanged a glance with Lily. She’d seen it too.
The second thing he noticed was the mess.
Drawers were open. Files scattered across the floor and the desk, some spilling from folders like they’d been yanked in a rush. A lamp had been knocked sideways. The wastebasket was tipped over, its contents half-tread into the carpet.
“Someone got here before we did,” Griff muttered, scanning the room, eyes flicking to the window, closed but not locked.
One look at the ground below the window, and he could see that the shrubs there had been trampled down. So maybe the intruder had come in or gone out that way. Or both.
He stepped back into the hallway and returned to the reception area where Holly still sat, hands folded tightly on her lap.
“Holly, has anyone been in Catherine’s office since she left?”
She blinked and shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so… Just Mr. Langston. He was in and out today.”
Griff’s jaw tensed. “When exactly was he here?”
“Most of the day,” she said. “He came in mid-morning, I think. He and Mrs. Langston had some sort of meeting. He was here until—” She paused. “Until shortly after she left. A little after two.”
So Everett had been here. Alone. After Catherine left. Before she turned up dead. And now her office looked like someone had been hunting for something worth killing over.
Griff paused at the doorway, his instincts tugging at him. He turned back toward the reception desk where Holly sat, still clearly shaken but trying to hold it together.
“Were you away from your desk at any time after Mrs. Langston left?” he asked.
She nodded. “Sure. I went to the ladies’ room a couple of times. I was in the breakroom for a bit too—making coffee, tidying up.”
Holly frowned, clearly replaying her steps. “Oh, and I went outside for a little while. Someone called and said there was a puppy wandering around the side of the building. I didn’t see one, though. I looked hard. Even checked behind the shrubs.”
Griff silently groaned. “Who called about the puppy? And what time?”
