Once they were out of earshot, they stopped before heading toward the exit. “I can run Jared. A deep dive,” Harlan suggested.
“Do it,” Colt said.
Brenna’s brow was tight. “Naomi and Jared are close. It’s possible they’re both in on it.”
Colt had already considered that and made a quick sound of agreement. “But why? Publicity? That’s a hell of a way to get it.”
“Maybe it’s more,” Brenna replied. “Maybe something happened between Naomi and Wallace. She pointed the finger fast. For three years, she’s never once said Wallace might be guilty. So why now?”
“That’s something we need to find out,” Colt said.
Colt, Brenna, and Harlan moved toward the front door of the station, but before they got there, the door swung open. Gary stepped inside, cursing under his breath when he saw them. His clothes were dirty, his face streaked with sweat and grime. Scratches ran along his arms and neck, and his hair looked like he’d been running through brush.
“Where the hell have you been?” Colt demanded.
Gary scowled. “I wasn’t about to sit around and wait to be blown to bits. Not when it’s obvious none of you trust me. You all think I was part of that attack.”
“Were you?” Colt asked.
“No,” the man snarled.
Colt narrowed his eyes. “Then you’ll have no problem telling us where you’ve been and what you were doing when the bridge exploded and those bullets were cooked off.”
Gary’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t look away. “I was running. I heard the first blast and bailed. I didn’t know who was shooting or what was going on. All I knew was I didn’t want to be the next body in a bag.”
Brenna stepped beside Colt. “Convenient that you ran before the shooting even started.”
Gary looked at her. “You think I’d stick around after an explosion like that? I panicked. You want to have me arrested for trying to save my own ass, then go ahead.”
There was the sound of approaching footsteps, and Colt looked back to see Sheriff Chase making her way toward them. Her gaze swept over all of them, landing on Gary. “Is there a problem?”
“Yeah, there’s a problem,” Gary snapped. “These three are trying to pin the murders and attacks on me. Still pissed off because I had car trouble and couldn’t get to Timberline in time to save them.”
Harlan stepped forward, his eyes hard. “We saved ourselves. But someone tipped off the person who killed the hostages. Someone who knew where we were.”
“Well, it sure as hell wasn’t me,” Gary said, glaring back at him. He turned to the sheriff. “I’ll give you a statement. Hell, I’ll answer whatever questions you want. But I’m not going to be part of some Crossfire Ops witch hunt. They’re looking for someone to blame, and I’m telling you right now, it won’t be me.”
Sheriff Chase gave no visible reaction. She handed the bagged note to one of her deputies and then nodded toward the hallway.
“Let me have a word with you three,” she said, motioning for Colt, Brenna, and Harlan to step aside.
Once they stepped into the hall, the sheriff stopped and turned to face them.
“Is it possible Gary’s behind this?” she asked.
Colt didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
Harlan gave a tight nod. “Absolutely.”
“But he’s not the only one I don’t trust,” Colt added. “Naomi and her assistant, Jared, are on that list too.”
The sheriff nodded. “I agree. I’ll talk to Gary. I’ll push where I can and see if anything shakes loose. I’ll keep you all updated.”
“Appreciate it,” Colt said.
They turned to leave, heading back down the hallway when Brenna’s phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket. “Unknown number,” she muttered and answered the call, moving the phone closer to Harlan and him so they’d all three be able to hear.
“It’s Wallace,” the voice on the other end of the line panted. “I got away, but they’re coming. Please. You have to help me.”
