Finger On The Trigger. Delores Fossen

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      Not good.

      Because all he managed to see was a gun. And that glimpse happened at the exact same moment that a bullet slammed into the brick wall right next to where Griff was standing.

      Rachel gave a sharp gasp and grabbed hold of his shoulder, pulling him back just as another shot came at Griff. An inch closer and he would have been a dead man.

      Griff cursed and pushed Rachel even deeper into the alley, putting his own body in front of hers. It was far from ideal, mainly because the smoke from the explosion was spilling into the alley and making its way toward them.

      Hell.

      First an explosion, then lightning. Now a gunshot. This was not the quick in-and-out that Griff had planned for Rachel.

      “Did you see the shooter?” she asked. She was shaking even harder now.

      “No. But he’s to our left.” In the opposite direction from Griff’s truck. Still, the guy was in the catbird seat right now because he could be hiding behind heaven knew what, just waiting for them to step out so he could shoot them.

      Maybe this was the same guy who’d been in the alley across the street. If he knew the layout of the buildings, he could have possibly made his way here. But it was just as likely there were at least two of them.

      That didn’t help settle Griff’s raw nerves.

      His phone buzzed, and since Rachel was still holding it, he motioned for her to answer. She did, and even though she didn’t put it on speaker, she held the phone close enough for him to hear.

      “Did you fire that shot?” Sheriff Ryland asked.

      “No. The shooter’s somewhere in the alley. I’m taking Rachel back to Main Street.”

      Shock flashed through her eyes, and Griff could tell from her tensed muscles that she didn’t think that was a good idea. He didn’t believe it was an especially good one, either, but staying put was too dangerous. If there were indeed two attackers, then they could try to trap Rachel and him in the alley.

      “Hold tight for a few more minutes if you can,” Sheriff Ryland said. “I’ll try to make sure the street is clear.”

      It was a generous offer, one that Griff accepted, but he knew it was going to be tough for the sheriff to manage. The smoke would be cutting his visibility, too, and they weren’t out of the woods yet. There was still the possibility of a second explosion.

      Griff moved Rachel to the center of the alley. “Stand with your back to mine and face Main Street,” he instructed. That way, he would be in a position to shoot the attacker who’d fired those shots at him.

      He took out his reserve weapon from a slide holster in his jeans and handed it to her. Griff prayed she wouldn’t need it, but at least if she did, Rachel could shoot. He knew that because he’d been the one to teach her.

      That reminder brought back some unwanted thoughts. Rachel’s and his lives had been intertwined since he was twelve years old. That’s when Griff had moved to McCall Canyon and started doing odd jobs for her father at the McCall Ranch. That meant they had twenty-four years of memories. Some had been bad, really bad, but this would be at the top of the heap.

      She took his gun, automatically positioning it the way he’d taught her. Griff hated that he had to put her in this position. Hated that she was in this kind of danger. Later, when they made it out of this, he would need to do something to fix it, to make sure it never happened again.

      Of course, Rachel might not let him fix anything. She might try to go on the run again.

      “Who’s doing this?” she whispered.

      “I don’t know.” Griff wished he did. “But if you’ve got any ideas, I’m all ears.” He expected her to say no.

      She didn’t.

      “Marlon Stowe,” she said.

      The name meant nothing to Griff, but judging from the way she shuddered, it meant plenty to Rachel.

      “Who the hell is he?” Griff demanded.

      He wanted to hear every word she said, but he also didn’t want anything they were saying to cause him to lose focus. He had to keep watch, and listen, for that shooter.

      Rachel shook her head. “It’s just some guy who works at the inn where I’m staying. The first week I was there, I saw him and his girlfriend get into a serious argument. I intervened when I thought he was about to hit her, and after the girlfriend and I talked, she broke things off with Marlon and moved out of town. Marlon blames me for that.”

      Griff was slammed with emotions. Anger that some clown wouldn’t leave Rachel alone.

      “It’s probably not him, though.” Rachel gave her head another shake. “I don’t think he was mad enough, or crazy enough, to want to kill me.”

      Griff would soon find out if that was true. Once he had Rachel safe, he would make it a top priority to find out everything he could about this guy. Rachel had been through entirely too much to have to deal with a hothead.

      “It’s more likely that this is connected to my father and those new threats,” Rachel added a moment later.

      Griff didn’t voice his agreement. Didn’t ask her to elaborate, either. That’s because he knew what she meant. This could go back to her father’s mistress. Or maybe to someone else Warren had ticked off when he’d carried on a three-decades-long affair.

      The rain started coming down harder, and Griff felt Rachel shiver. He didn’t think it was solely from fear this time. It was May, which meant the temps were already high, but the rain was cold, and their clothes were past the damp stage. The water was starting to stream down their bodies.

      His phone dinged again with another text message. “The sheriff says he doesn’t see a shooter anywhere near your truck. His deputy is still pursuing the bomber on foot.”

      Good. Maybe that meant the bomber wouldn’t double back. But even if he was trying to do that, it was too dangerous for them to wait around and find out. If the guy had managed to plant one explosive, he could have others on him.

      “Let’s go,” Griff told her.

      She nodded, shoved his phone in her pocket and got moving. While they made their way back to the front of the alley, Griff tried to keep watch all around them, and Rachel was doing the same. He prayed it would be enough.

      “Stay down,” he muttered, when they reached Main Street.

      There wasn’t much left of her car, but still plenty of flames and smoke. Both could conceal a shooter, but could hopefully give Rachel and him some cover, too.

      As he’d done at the back end of the alley, Griff leaned out from the building and looked around. There were plenty of places a shooter could hide. Too many. And Griff didn’t see either the sheriff or a deputy. Still, he couldn’t wait any longer.

      “Keep low and watch where you’re stepping,” Griff warned her.

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