Harlan stepped in close so he could see what had rattled her. The first images were of them near the culvert, crouched in the dirt, the bomb not yet discovered but visible in the background. Another shot showed Laney leaning against his truck, talking with him, unaware of the camera. Each image screamed surveillance. Every angle told him the shooter had been far too close.
Then Laney froze. She made a sound that was half gasp, half choke. The photo in her hands showed Evie.
The little girl was curled under her blanket in the bed downstairs, her hair spread across the pillow. It was obvious the picture had been taken through the window glass, but the person who’d taken it had been only feet away from Evie, watching her sleep.
Watching her while she was completely vulnerable.
Laney’s hand shook, and the picture slipped out of her grip, fluttering to the floor.
“Son of a bitch,” Garrett muttered, his face pale but his voice sharp. “They were right outside. They could have taken her. They could have—” He cut himself off, fury tightening every line of his body.
Harlan bent and scooped up the photo before Laney could. His stomach twisted, his pulse hammering with a mix of rage and terror. He had been seconds away from losing Laney at theculvert and in that attack, and now this. Whoever was behind this wanted Laney and Evie broken, maybe dead.
“There’s more,” Laney whispered, pulling out a single sheet of paper from the envelope.
Her lips parted as she read, her eyes wide, and she handed it to him without speaking.
Harlan stared down at the words scrawled across the page.
David tried to destroy me. Now I’m going to destroy what’s his.
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Chapter Nine
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Laney’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The note. The pictures. Especially the last one. She could still see Evie’s small face in that photograph, peaceful in sleep, while danger lurked just outside the window.
Harlan’s steady hand closed around her arm. “Come on.” His voice was calm, firm, the voice of someone who knew she needed direction when her thoughts were spinning. He guided her into the living room and eased her down onto the sofa.
Garrett lingered near the front door, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp. “Do you want Noah and the sheriff to know about the pictures and the threat?”
“Yes,” Laney said without hesitation. “They need to know everything.”
Garrett gave a short nod and stepped outside with his phone, leaving her alone with Harlan.
Laney pressed her palms together in her lap, trying to slow her racing heart and out-of-control breath. Fear knotted her stomach, sharp and heavy, and it kept getting worse, no matter how she tried to push it down. She’d been afraid before, but this was different. This was Evie. And while she’d known about the note someone had left on the windowsill, the photo felt like a punch from a heavyweight’s fist.
Her little girl had been in danger without her even realizing it.
Harlan lowered himself onto the sofa beside her, close enough that his mere presence wrapped around her like a shield. She clung to that, trying to breathe past the rising tide of panic.
“Which one of our suspects best fits this latest threat?” he asked, his voice cutting through the haze in her mind. “Which one believed David destroyed their life?”
The question steadied her somewhat. It forced her to think, not just to feel. She drew in a slow breath and gripped the edge of the sofa.
“Billy fits,” she said finally after she gave it some thought. “After David arrested him, his wife left him, and his family disowned him. He blames everything on that. He blames David for ruining his life.”
She lifted her gaze to Harlan’s, needing him to understand she wasn’t clinging to just one theory. “But it could be Brannigan, too,” she admitted. “His business went under after David shut down his blasting operation. He has just as much reason to say David destroyed him.”
Her stomach knotted even tighter, something she hadn’t thought possible. “And of the three suspects, Brannigan is the one with explosives experience. He’d know how to build that bomb. He’d know how to set a trap like this.”
Harlan’s eyes stayed on her. “What about Sherry?”
Laney’s chest tightened. She wanted to dismiss it outright, but she forced herself to face the possibility. “It could fit,” she said quietly. “Maybe if they did have an affair and he dumped her…” Her throat went dry and she shook her head. “It hurts just thinking it. But David wasn’t a saint.”
The admission scraped raw inside her, but once it was out she couldn’t stop. “Even if there was no affair, there’s still that note. The payment. What if Sherry was a dirty cop and Davidfound out? If he was going to expose her, she might have had him killed before he could.”
