“Knight’s still with him. I’ll stay with him, too,” Jac Jones said quietly. She’d been speaking with the forensics team about the barn and the blood that had been found there. Joel highly suspected that blood would come back a match for Maggie Tyler. “I’ll make certain he stays in town.”
“Just buy us twenty minutes to get Hollace’s supervisor up to date. I don’t want Clint to know until we have Hollace in custody. Just to keep this from escalating.”
“Thanks. We’ll fill Weatherby in, then grab Knight from the station. If you and Sage will stay with Gunderson, that will help.”
“No problem,” Jac said.
“Thanks.” Joel looked at the other man next to him. “You feel like helping me round up a rogue officer?”
“In a heartbeat. I have a daughter of my own. I’d love to help do this for Gunderson. No doubt Knight will feel the same way.”
Joel nodded. Exactly what he’d hoped. He’d need some federal backing to arrest a WSP officer. And Knight and Jones looked like they could handle the task just fine.
51
Jim was being stupid. He should get in his car and go home. Pretend he’d been there with another headache or something. It was just a matter of time before people put things together. He’d done his best to buff out the scuff mark on his patrol car from the vet’s truck, but he may have missed a spot or two. He’d felt off since he’d realized what he’d done.
Instead, he was going to walk into the diner, get himself a meal, and play it casual-like. Like he hadn’t just shot up a man’s house. A man he’d known for ten years, worked beside for the first half of those ten.
He should be ashamed of himself.
The only thing he had to make him believe it wasn’t that big of a deal was the fact that Gunderson was a widower. There wouldn’t have been people in that house. And those agents in the vet’s truck—well, they’d had it coming. Strutting about the county like they were going to solve the unsolvable. The bigwigs here to save the good ole boys left behind.
He’d been stupid.
At least he hadn’t used his issued weapon. That would be too easily tracked. No, the pistol he’d used was one that had been handed down from his stepfather straight to him. And it had come to his stepfather from his own father. Jim doubted anyone alive would even know he had that gun.
He’d have to get rid of it. If he was caught and interrogated, and had that weapon on him, there would be questions. Especially after ballistics got ahold of it.
And those agents—what if they’d seen him?
Being at the diner was probably stupid, but Jim put his hand on the door just as a woman reached for it, her head turned away from him.
She bumped into his chest, and he breathed in her perfume. Floral. Pretty. Soft, silky hair brushed against his chin. Blond and falling nearly to her waist. She was almost enough to distract him from what he’d done. Another one of Flo Talley’s granddaughters, he thought. They sure did look a lot alike, though their coloring was different from one to the next.
He could just take her. Shove his gun in her side like Clive had that little Tyler girl and take her right out of the diner. That would keep the FBI off his case.
Or get him a bullet straight to the forehead from a sniper or something. Jim really wasn’t that stupid. Nope. That he wasn’t.
She looked up at him, shocking blue eyes staring into his. “Oh, I’m sorry, Officer…Hollace.” Her gaze darted to his nametag quickly. Her face pinched, and she paled. Right there in front of him.
“You ok? Can I help you inside? You sick?”
Her fingers tightened on the door, almost as if she was using it to hold herself up.
“Just…a…I’m prone to migraines. I may be coming down with one.” She gave a small shiver as she stared at him, like she could see right into his soul. His soul.
Like Helen could.
He wished he had a beer. But he didn’t think the diner served alcohol or anything like that. Iced tea might be the strongest he’d get there.
He risked doing something stupid and wrapped his hand around her elbow. She was skinny, barely any flesh there at all. “Come on; I’ll help you inside. Maybe a drink will help. You got family inside?”
“Yes. My sister and cousins should be around somewhere.” She was practically whimpering. Jim shoved aside his own problems for a moment.
He half thought she was about to pass out right in his arms. Or shake apart into a thousand pieces.
“Hollace!” A harsh voice said behind him. Jim recognized it immediately. He tightened his hand around the girl’s arm and turned, yanking the girl slightly.
To stare into Rex Weatherby’s furious face.
That fed, Agent Knight, stood at Weatherby’s side, another equally big agent next to him.
They’d come for him. He couldn’t escape three of them. It was over.
The girl fainted at his feet with a small, high-pitched cry.
52
Knight watched Miranda’s sister fall right at Jim Hollace’s feet, and he reacted. He reached for her—a millisecond after Rex Weatherby caught her before she could strike the concrete. Weatherby yanked her out of the way quickly.
Knight shifted his focus and pulled his service weapon and aimed at the officer. “Don’t move!”
Max was in the same position, to the left of where Knight stood.
What had Hollace done to Marin?
Hollace put up his hands, a confused look on his face. “What the hell, Weatherby? I didn’t do nothing to her. She said she had a migraine or something. Just fainted, I think.”
“You know we’re not here about this woman,” Weatherby snarled. There was no love lost between him and Hollace; Weatherby had made that clear when they’d identified Hollace as the main person of interest. Weatherby scooped Marin into his arms and stepped out of the way, leaving room
