At least he’d never hurt like that.
There was no way he was letting Clint ruin his life like that.
Knight wasn’t going to let Clint out of his sight until the shooter was caught.
50
Joel pushed back the worry for Maggie and baby Violet and watched as the crime scene team continued to work on Clint’s ranch. He’d never been out there before, but this was his second time tonight. He’d left Clint with Knight and returned to the scene in time to find Clint’s yellow lab hiding under a chicken coop at the back of the property, licking a graze on his side.
Joel had coaxed the dog out and had made contact with Miranda’s cousin, Dusty. Dusty was on her way in to collect the dog and take him back to Joel’s brother’s vet clinic, until Clint could collect him himself.
The dog’s wound explained some of the blood. Joel was just glad it was canine blood in the front yard instead of human. More blood had been found in the barn near an older gelding’s stall. The horse had been beside himself, but unhurt.
The diaper bag had been found in the middle of the barn. Fully stocked—and covered in blood.
Miranda had reported the blood was Maggie’s, but Maggie hadn’t been seriously hurt. Thank God.
The baby didn’t have a scratch. Joel thanked the man above for that, too.
The place reminded him of his father-in-law Phil’s place. Phil’s ranch had the same run-down feel, but where Phil’s home was bursting with life and kids and drew a man in before he could resist—Joel knew that from personal experience—this place seemed sad and broken. It lacked the hope that Phil’s place exuded. The welcome.
There was new wood on the porch where Clint had replaced the old support beams. It hadn’t been stained to match yet.
Bullet rounds were embedded in some of that new pine. Glass from the shattered windows nearby littered the porch itself. There were six windows on the front of the small ranch house. Four of them were shot out.
Maggie and an innocent baby could have died here today. Maggie; his wife’s cousin, a sweet woman who would do whatever she could to help her family.
And for what?
He didn’t have a clue. Yet. But he would.
Knight had assigned himself to Clint, and Joel appreciated it. The two men had hit it off, though neither had exactly said anything.
The man’s baby was missing. It was a wonder Clint was holding himself together at all. Both his babies, in a way.
That thought had him wincing. Joel had his own pregnant wife at home. The pain Clint had to be feeling right now sickened him. He was just glad Knight had gotten Clint off scene while forensics could process.
Any minute now, Maggie Tyler’s brothers were going to show up, all five of them, demanding to know where she was. He was happy Clint was not going to be there when they arrived.
He didn’t want a Tyler mob ripping Clint apart for touching their baby sister right now. Joel made a quick decision—one for the peace of his county. Maggie’s pregnancy was just going to have to remain a secret for the time being. Besides, it wasn’t his place to tell her brothers that information.
Joel didn’t have a clue what to tell them. He’d better think of something fast.
Tylers had a reputation around town. And he just didn’t have the time to diffuse a bomb right now. And when they learned Maggie was missing…
He was actually contemplating calling in the Wyoming National Guard for the moment that happened.
There were a lot of Tylers in his county. And they protected each other, fiercely. Joel had seen it firsthand.
His cell rang. Sage Lowell was usually one step ahead of him, and Joel greatly appreciated her. “Sage? What have you got for me?”
“Eight reports of a WSP patrol car being driven erratically on the highway between Clint’s place and town.”
“Reputable?”
“Well, since four came from your family members—your mother and brother, Matt, not to mention your wife, who was with her sister, Perci, who corroborates—I’m going to say yes. Highly reputable.”
“Do we know who?” There was a good possibility they had a WSP patrolman in pursuit of the shooter—but they would have already heard about it. He’d just ignore the mention of Phoebe being near any of what had happened today. For his own peace of mind.
Clint Gunderson wasn’t the only man who had a Tyler woman they loved out there to worry about.
“Boss, partial plates and tentative identification by a witness says it was most likely Officer Jim Hollace. I called as soon as I put the name together. Isn’t he the officer who we’ve already spoken to regarding the Caudrell case?”
“Yes.” Joel’s mind ran all over the angles. Nothing made sense, unless he factored in that Jim Hollace was as dirty as his old buddy Clive Gunderson.
And had targeted Clint because of it. Weatherby had told him himself there was history between Hollace and Clint. None of it good.
“Sage? Get Hollace’s supervisor on the line. Rex Weatherby. Have him meet me as soon as he can. I have questions.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll do that.”
Joel disconnected the call just as the crime scene supervisor came up to him and Max Jones, who’d joined him for an update.
“What is it, Lindy?”
She held out a slip of paper. Max took it first, holding the now-bagged evidence up to the setting light. “A sales receipt from the gas station in town. Dated today. And signed. It’s almost illegible, but—”
“We can confirm it with the gas station and security cams in the area.”
“I’m not sure that’s needed,” Max said, fury hard to miss in his tone. “Look at the signature.”
Joel did, his curses just as quiet as the federal agent’s, but just as potent.
“We need to go find him,” Joel told the other man. “But I don’t want to leave Gunderson alone at the station with just Knight for now. Knight can probably handle himself, but it’s Gunderson’s family that was targeted. He may be more than Knight
