Josh squeezed her hand. “Just take your time, honey.”
“Damon wasn’t . . . he wasn’t that way at first. He seemed like this really great guy. I don’t know how he fooled me so completely.”
For the next twenty minutes, she told the detective how Damon had changed, how he had abused her, beaten her, and stalked her. How he had threatened her until she’d had no choice but to run.
“The police did their best, but there are laws they have to follow and Damon is smart.” She told him about the kitten he had murdered and the dog he had killed.
“He seemed to get some kind of sick pleasure out of it. He seemed to enjoy inflicting pain. All the time he was beating me, he was grinning.”
“My captain didn’t want me coming out here,” Larson said. “There’s no evidence, nothing except for his attack on you to make Bridger a person of interest. But I have a feeling about this guy. I wanted to hear what you had to say.”
“Bridger’s obsessed with Tory,” Josh said. “They were engaged, which he seems to believe gives him ownership. There’s a good chance he hired a group of bikers to vandalize the ranch. He’s probably behind the identity theft I just had to deal with. If it was Bridger—and I’m betting it was—he hasn’t given up. He still wants Tory, and he’ll do anything to get her.”
“He may have substituted another victim for the woman he wants,” Detective Larson said. “If you’re right, Damon Bridger is a very dangerous man.”
* * *
Larson left the ranch determined to find out if Bridger was the man behind the attack on Lisa Shane and the red-haired woman who had been murdered. According to Larson, Damon had no alibi for the night the girl had gone missing. He was home in bed that night, he’d said.
But there was nothing illegal about him sleeping in his own bed and no evidence he had left the house anytime before morning, so he remained in the clear.
Aside from Tory’s suspicions and Detective Larson’s hunch, the police had no reason to believe Damon was involved. Add to that, his father’s money and powerful position in the community made him a formidable opponent. Without some kind of evidence, there wasn’t anything the police could do.
Josh was worried. The quagmire they were entangled in was getting deeper and stickier. When Cole and Noah rode their ATVs up in front of the barn at the end of the day, Josh walked over to speak to them.
“What’s going on?” Noah asked at the solemn look on his face.
“A detective named Larson flew in from Phoenix to talk to Tory. You remember that girl I told you about who went missing?”
Noah nodded. Cole’s features darkened. “The waitress who looked like Tory?” he asked.
“That’s the one. She turned up dead. Good chance it’s the same guy who abducted Tory’s friend Lisa.”
“Cops think it’s Tory’s ex?” Noah asked.
“Cops don’t know what to think. Larson’s gut says it’s Bridger. He thinks Tory could be in danger. So do I.”
Cole lifted his baseball cap and scratched his blond head. He surveyed the vast grasslands around them, the ravines overflowing with thick dark green shrubs, the deep woods, and thickets of trees.
“Lot of land to cover. We can keep watch for Bridger, but there’s still a guy out there who murdered two soldiers and might be coming after you. Until the feds make an arrest, maybe you should put on a few more men.”
“I plan to,” Josh said. “Just wanted to bring you up to speed.”
“We’ll stay alert.” The men put up their gear and headed home for the day.
Mrs. T. brought Ivy home and Tory worked on supper. When Josh walked into the house, the smell of roast beef hit him and his stomach growled. He heard small feet and looked up to see Ivy running toward him.
“Look, Josh! I you made a picture! It’s you and me and Mama and Star!”
Josh swept the little girl up against his chest and took the sheet of paper from her hand. In a crayon drawing colored in red, yellow, and green, he was as big as the stallion. He had a hand on each of the females’ shoulders. Clearly, he was protecting them.
His chest clamped down. He wasn’t ready for this. He still had nightmares about the men he hadn’t been able to protect. He would never forget a single soldier’s face. He’d come back to Texas to escape that kind of responsibility.
How had he gotten in so deep? More important, what was he going to do about it?
“It’s beautiful, sweetheart,” he said. “We’ll put it up on the fridge.” Setting Ivy back on her feet, he walked over to the refrigerator, took down a magnet that looked like a cowboy hat, and used it to hold up the drawing. “There. That looks nice.”
Ivy grinned, turned, and raced back into the living room just as Tory walked in, her gaze following the path her daughter had taken directly away from him.
