Killer Exposure. Jessica R. PatchЧитать онлайн книгу.
Manager said they have multiple maintenance workers on staff. We’re rounding them up now. I need to stay on this. Need to ID this guy.”
He seemed to debate the idea. “Let Crisp and Garrison do it. When they get the workers corralled, you can make the ID.” He gave her a slight side-hug. “Glad you’re okay.” He then turned to Locke. “Sheriff Randy Wright.”
“Locke Gallagher.”
“Thank you for being in the woods.” He squinted, rain dripping off his poncho. “Why were you out here in the woods?”
Locke glanced at Greer. The truth was he was trying to figure out what to do about seeing or not seeing her while photographing nature. “I’m with a group researching storms. Y’all have several supercells coming in this week, prime weather for twisters. I photograph them.”
“A storm chaser?”
“Yes, sir.”
He grinned. “Glad you were here. Not that I don’t think Greer could have made it out, but sometimes we need a little help.”
“I guess so.”
The sheriff shook his hand again and left them alone as the rain let up. Wasn’t over yet, though. “Locke, I’m safe. Seriously, you can get back to what you were doing,” Greer said.
“I know.” But he didn’t want to leave. “How long will the sketch take? I can wait. We can get dry...and get coffee?”
“I’m not sure. And I worked all last night, picking up overtime, so I’m pretty tired.” As if on cue, she yawned, then sheepishly grinned. His heart slammed into his throat. Those wide, thick lips on a heart-shaped face. The straightest nose he’d ever seen. Her chocolate-brown eyes revealed true exhaustion. But there wasn’t a measure of fear in her tone—she was so like the Greer he used to know. Used to love.
Overtime and exhaustion, he understood. “Okay...well, maybe sometime this week?”
She shifted and shoved a thick mass of wet hair from her face. It still cascaded past her shoulders all in one length. Probably the same corn-silk blond, but now damp from rain it was the color of sand after the ocean washed over it. Man, he’d loved her hair. “I’m going to be pretty tied up now with this case.”
“Too tied up you can’t eat?”
“I work more than one job, Locke. I’m a part-time photographer. Family portraits, senior pictures, community events. You know, the kind you never wanted to be. The kind that boxed you into nine-to-five.”
He had said that. There was too much adventure in life to settle down and do one single thing every day. Too many places to see, too much to experience. Not a single storm was the same. The thrill. The challenge. Locke did what he wanted, when he wanted. At one time, Greer was onboard and living that life with him. And they were having fun, were happy. “There’s no challenge in that,” he teased.
“Try getting four children under the age of six to all sit still and face the camera and smile at the same time.” She half laughed, but it seemed sad. “It’s not the wild adventure you chase, but it’s satisfying. I like documenting family milestones and memories. I like keeping my town and county safe. I like the people. I like this life.”
Whole lotta like. No mention of love. Once, she’d told Locke she loved chasing storms. Loved capturing them. Loved...him. “I’m glad you’re happy, Greer. I’ve never wanted anything else. I guess...guess it just stinks you couldn’t be happy with me.” There, he said it. “But I’m over it.” She needed to know he wasn’t going to be stalking her and groveling. She’d made clear what she wanted. And he wasn’t a part of it. “If that’s what’s holdin’ you back from having a meal or coffee with me. Friends is cool. I can do friends.”
Greer cleared her throat, glanced away. “Good, okay,” she whispered. “I’ll...I’ll think about it.”
Better than “get lost.” “Hey, you witnessed a murder tonight. This guy...are you worried he’ll come back?” She was clearly worried about something. Would he try to finish her off? The thought sent a blip of panic to his chest. “You want me to see you home?”
“No.” A flash of fear splashed through her eyes. “I appreciate the offer, but I can see myself home.”
“Not saying you aren’t capable or anything.” He shrugged.
“We’ll find this guy, Locke. Probably tonight. I’m not worried.” She lowered the hood of her poncho now that the rain had stopped. She wasn’t fooling Locke. Greer’s hand had a tremor and the truth showed in her eyes. She wasn’t only shaken, she was scared. It had crossed her mind that he would try and finish the job. Even if it was a fleeting thought. It was there. Locke could read it on her face. “I have to get back to work.”
An awkward silence ballooned around them.
“Be careful chasing those storms,” she said. “Hope you find what you’re looking for, but also I kind of hope you don’t.” She grinned. Genuine again. Sincere.
No one wanted tornadoes ravaging their towns, and about twelve years ago, three had come through this county, tearing them to pieces. A state of emergency had been declared. But over time, the community had rebuilt, with some outside help. That’s why this research was so important.
“And thank you. For...being in the woods and coming to my aid. All that martial arts training paid off.”
Finally, a real thank-you. The soft side of Greer. The side he’d always admired. One of the many facets he fell in love with. “Well, when you have uncontainable, boundless energy and your dad’s military, and a cop, he finds a way to burn it off and prepare you for your calling.” One he never felt called to. He ran his hand through his wet hair and shivered. “But you’re welcome.”
“I really gotta go now.”
With that, she spun and disappeared into the rain-soaked night.
* * *
Sitting in her car, soggy, freezing, exhausted and sore, Greer laid her head on the driver’s seat and closed her eyes. After stomping away from Locke, she’d worked with the sketch artist and hung around a little longer at the scene until Sheriff Wright basically tossed her in the car and sent her home. Too much had happened tonight. Death. Her near-death and then Locke showing up. She was grateful that he’d been there. His usual self. Brave. Kind. A little snarky and humorous and attentive. For being a man she was sure had ADHD, he never seemed to have an issue giving her his undivided attention, and it hurt beyond belief, so she’d avoided him. Old feelings. Fear. Guilt. Locke had a daughter, and he didn’t even know. He’d never wanted children. He’d been adamant about that up front. They got in the way and wouldn’t fit into his lifestyle—his words. They would cramp everything. So Greer had taken the chicken’s way out and not told him.
But tonight proved in a small way that she had made the right decision to protect her daughter by not telling him the truth. He’d said it himself, years ago—he would not be boxed in. Locke had always rebelled against social norms and family expectations. He wanted to live the way he chose. No chains. No being tied to what the world said being an adult ought to look like. And no children.
They’d been dating a year when the conversation came up again about having a family, and it had turned into an argument. Locke hadn’t changed his mind and never would. Greer had been so head over heels in love with him that she’d agreed and wouldn’t bring it up again. But Greer had always wanted a family. A husband who wouldn’t leave. Who wanted his child always and forever. Clearly, that man wasn’t Locke. She’d considered breaking it off after that last heated discussion, but she’d loved him too much and couldn’t make the tough choice.
Then Mama got sick. And she found out she was pregnant. That made the decision for her.
Besides, Locke was finally getting his dream, making a mark on the storm-photography world. Greer didn’t want to rob him of that. But mostly, she was