Laney’s fingers tightened around the phone after she read Noah’s text. “If Brannigan bought those components, it means he could have made the bombs,” she said, her voice low and unsteady. “It doesn’t prove he did, but it proves he had the means.”
Harlan nodded. “It’s enough for the sheriff to haul him back in. At least for questioning.” He took the phone from her, thumbed out a quick forward of Noah’s message, and sent it to the sheriff.
The reply came almost instantly.I’ll get Brannigan in again first thing in the morning.
Harlan blew out a long breath, though the tension in his chest didn’t ease. “Finally, something solid tying him to this,” he muttered.
Laney leaned back against the desk, arms crossed, but there was no relief in her expression. “It still won’t be enough to hold him if he has an explanation,” she said. “And men like Brannigan always have an explanation.”
Harlan agreed. He could already hear it. Some line about needing the components for his business, for a side job, for something that would sound just plausible enough to a judge. Evidence was finally pointing in Brannigan’s direction, but it was thin, fragile. Like smoke.
And in Harlan’s gut, smoke meant fire close by.
Hell, he could say the same thing for Laney and him. Things were heating up, and it didn’t seem stoppable.
Harlan thought about bringing up the kiss, the way it had shifted something inside him, but before he could find the words, his phone buzzed.Shit. At first he figured it might be another update from the sheriff. Then he saw the alert flashing across the screen.
And his stomach dropped. One of the new perimeter sensors had just tripped.
Laney’s eyes lifted to his, her expression questioning. She had no idea yet what had set him on edge.
He turned the screen so she could see, his voice steady but low. “We have an intruder.”
----- ? ----
Chapter Eleven
----- ? ----
Laney’s breath stalled as she leaned closer to the glow of Harlan’s phone. God, what was happening now?
The screen showed the live feed, grainy in the dark but clear enough. Not a vehicle but rather someone on foot. Someone ducking in and out of the trees and making their way toward the house.
“Can’t tell who it is,” Harlan muttered.
Neither could she, but her pulse pounded in her ears as she braced for the unknown face that might appear out of the trees. Every second felt stretched thin, heavy with the question of whether this was danger walking straight to their doorstep.
Then the camera caught movement. A figure stepped into view, and the light from the sensor flared.
Billy.
He stopped on the side of the driveway leading to the house. His face was set, his eyes flicking toward the lens as if he knew exactly where it was, knew they were watching him.
Billy raised his hands, palms out in surrender. Maybe because he wanted them to believe he was no threat. But he was too close, far too close, and her instincts screamed otherwise.
What the heck was he doing here?
On the screen, Billy stayed frozen in place, hands still lifted, staring directly at the camera. Almost like he wanted an audience. Almost like this was a performance meant for them.
“Garrett?” Harlan called out.
Almost immediately boots thudded against the hall floor, and a second later Garrett filled the doorway. His gaze landed on the phone in Harlan’s hand, and he lifted his own phone to show them he was watching the same thing.
“Any idea what he wants?” Garrett asked.
Harlan shook his head. “Not yet, but I’ll find out.”
Laney stepped forward before he could move. “I’m going with you.”
