“That’s right,” Garrett said, looking her straight in the eyes. “Every one of them will treat this place like their own, and I’ll be here the entire time. Your mother and daughter won’t be out of my sight.”
Harlan watched her take that in. She gave a small nod, but he could still see the strain, the way her shoulders stayed just a little too tense.
They needed to get moving. Every minute they stayed here was another minute without answers. Maybe Billy Maddox’s interview would give them a lead. Or maybe it would just add more knots to an already twisted mess. Either way, they had to find out and then move on to Sherry with the hopes she could either give them something new or add to what they might learn from Billy.
Laney glanced toward the kitchen. “Once I’ve introduced Mom and Evie to Garrett, we can head out.”
“Hold up a second,” Garrett said. “I’ve got something you both need to see first.”
The three of them stepped into the foyer, closing the door to muffle the sounds of Carol’s voice and Evie’s laughter. Garrett pulled his phone from his pocket, his thumb moving fast over the screen.
“I spent a good chunk of the night digging for camera footage from the road by the culvert,” he explained. “The Crossfire Ops techs and I put the word out to anyone who might have dash cam video.” His eyes lifted to Harlan’s, then to Laney’s. “Got a hit.”
He tapped the screen, and the video filled it. It was grainy but clear enough to make out a familiar beat-up truck rumbling past.
“Delivery truck caught this early yesterday morning,” Garrett said. “That’s Billy Maddox driving near the spot where the bomb was found.”
Harlan felt the shift in the air as Laney leaned in closer, her jaw tightening while the footage looped again. Billy had been close enough that he could have been the one who’d set up that explosive and sent the text for Harlan to go there. Close enough, too, to plant that hair clip.
Of course, the question was why?
And maybe that was yet something else they could get from Billy.
“I sent the footage to Sheriff Barnes already,” Garrett said. “He’ll have it ready for the interview.”
Good. Harlan could picture Clay Barnes’s reaction to that. The sheriff had been chasing dead ends for years, and now he had Billy Maddox on video near the bomb site. Once again, means, motive, and opportunity all lined up neatly. Add in the hair clip found just up the road, and Barnes might think he had enough to slap cuffs on Billy.
But the whole thing scraped at Harlan’s instincts.
It fit too well, too clean. As if someone had stacked the deck. And that was exactly what Billy would say the moment he was in the hot seat during the interview.
Harlan followed Laney into the dining room where Carol and Evie were still at the table. Garrett came in behind them, the big guy looking a little out of place in the homey space with the curtains drawn tight.
“Garrett McCall,” Laney said, gesturing between them. “This is my mom, Carol, and my daughter, Evie.”
Garrett smiled and reached into his jacket pocket. “Brought something for you, kiddo. Hope you like puppies.”
He handed over a small stuffed dog, the kind with floppy ears and oversized paws. Evie’s eyes lit up as she took it. “What’s his name?” she asked.
“That’s up to you,” Garrett replied. “I’ve got a whole crew of nieces and nephews who name everything after candy, so if you pick something like Jellybean, I’ll understand.”
Evie giggled. “I’m gonna name him… Cookie.”
“Perfect,” Garrett said, grinning.
Carol thanked him and reminded Evie to do the same. After they exchanged a few polite words, Laney bent to kiss Evie on the top of her head.
“Be good for Grandma, okay?” Laney whispered to the girl. “Uncle Harley and I will be back soon.”
“I will,” Evie promised, still clutching Cookie.
Laney hugged her mom, whispered something to her and then straightened. Harlan caught the flicker of resolve in Laney’s eyes as they turned toward the front door together.
Once they were outside, Harlan unlocked the truck, waiting until Laney climbed in before shutting his own door. Her car sat in the driveway—someone from the sheriff’s office had brought it back, but neither of them even considered using it. His truck felt safer.
The drive toward town was quiet at first, the low hum of the tires filling the stiff silence between them. Harlan had already confirmed the road past the culvert was open again and that the bomb squad was done with their work.
They took that route.
