He watched as his brother quickly sent the image and the others received it. Frustration simmered inside him. They were close, but not close enough. Dammit. Whoever was behind this was still out there, playing a dangerous game, and Cas was sick of watching from the sidelines.
Harper walked over, and he immediately slid his arm around her, drawing her close. Poor woman was shaking.
“Did you find anything?” Sadie asked, stepping into his brother’s arms.
Gabe nodded, though his expression was cautious. “We’ve got a partial image. It’s not much, but it’s something. We’re going to keep digging, but I need you to be extra vigilant. Don’t go anywhere alone. Whoever’s doing this is stepping up their game, and I don’t want anyone to get caught off guard.”
“What was in the note?” Harper asked, and he silently grumbled.
He had hoped to spare her the latest threat.
“This.” Gabe held up the evidence bags, allowing the girls time to read it.
Harper glanced at Cas, anger and resolve burning in her eyes. “We’re not backing down. We’ve come too far to let them win now.”
He set a reassuring hand on Harper’s shoulder. “They can try to scare us all they want, but we’re not stopping until this is over.”
The sheriff tucked the evidence bags under his arm, his face set in determination. “We’ll find them,” he said, his voice firm. “And when we do, they’re going to regret ever starting this.”
“Hooyah,” he spouted, and his brother echoed the Navy battle cry.
They had a face to chase, a lead to follow, and Cas would not rest until he saw this through. Whoever was behind this had made it personal, and he was ready to fight back, not just for the truth, but to keep everyone safe, especially Harper.
It was time to set a trap.
Chapter Twenty
Harper slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Cas, who was sprawled comfortably under the covers, his breathing deep and even. She paused for a moment, watching him sleep. A smile tugged at her lips. He looked so peaceful, a stark contrast to the tension that had filled the air yesterday. But last night in bed, the amazing, thoughtful man had kept her mind off the mounting stress of the threats with a night of hot, intense, pleasure. He’d earned his rest, and she felt grateful for the way he always seemed to know exactly how to help her breathe again.
But as she quietly grabbed her clothes then snuck out to get dressed in the living room, the worries and thoughts from the previous day began to creep back in. Cas had confided that he wanted to set a trap and not wait for another threat that could be deadly. Harper agreed. There were supposed to plan it this morning, but she didn’t have the heart to wake him.
Still, her mind buzzed with a restless energy that wouldn’t let her sit still. She needed to keep busy, to find something to occupy her hands and her thoughts before the bulk of everything pulled her under. The garage would be perfect—her refuge, a place where she could focus on her great-grandmother’s desk and feel a sense of control amidst the chaos.
Deactivating the alarm, she stepped out on the outside stairway, and made her way down to the garage, flipping on the lights and taking a deep breath of the familiar scent of wood and sawdust. She moved toward her workbench, ready to dive into the tasks that had been waiting for her when she remembered to shut and lock the door.
But as she reached for the handle, someone burst in, hitting her with the door, sending her backward.
Harper’s pulse quickened as a man stepped in. He was broad and somewhat stout. Had to be one of Anderson’s thugs. He had the look of someone who was used to intimidation, his posture menacing as he blocked her path.
“Well, if it isn’t the little investigator,” he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. “You and your friends don’t know when to quit, do you?”
Harper’s mind raced but she forced herself to stay calm. She squared her shoulders, refusing to show the fear that clawed at her insides. “I could say the same about you,” she shot back, her voice steady. “What do you want?”
The thug took a step closer, his gaze dark and threatening. “You need to drop this, sweetheart. Stop digging where you don’t belong. Mr. Anderson doesn’t take kindly to people who can’t mind their own business.”
Hah. She knew it!
Harper held her ground, her heart pounding but her resolve unshaken. “And I don’t take kindly to people who cover up murders. I’m not stopping until the truth comes out.”
His expression hardened, and a second later, he lunged at her. But she was ready. She’d trained for this—after the school shooting, she’d promised herself she’d never be helpless again. As he swung at her, Harper ducked low, delivering a sharp elbow to his side that made him grunt in pain. She moved quickly, dodging his next blow and using his momentum against him, she threw him off balance.
Harper was about to make a mad dash for the door, but then she saw the flash of metal and her blood ran cold. Memories of that fateful day at school ripped through her mind. The thug’s eyes were wild as he pointed a gun in her direction. Harper’s mind went blank, her instincts screaming at her to move, but before she could react, she heard footfalls on the steps.
Oh, God, Cas…
He stepped into the garage, his expression shifting from confusion to alarm as he took in the scene. The thug’s eyes darted to Cas, and he instantly turned the gun on him.
Harper’s heart lurched practically out of her chest. Time seemed to slow as she watched the gun swing toward Cas, fear surging through her like a tidal wave.
