Wyn delivered a hard stare, and Devlin watched his jaw tic a mile a minute. The man threw out a colorful bevy of curse words that would have made any of his fellow cops proud. He finally bit off, “I can only write in my report what I’m told.” He didn’t look one bit happy or pleased. Devlin thought resigned was probably a better word. “What I will tell you is that a story with questions and holes in it that might normally make me want to dig deeper won’t rouse my suspicions in this case. That’s all I can promise you.”
“I would never ask for anything more.” Devlin locked his legs in place to stop himself from leaping into Wyn’s arms and hugging him to the point of embarrassment. “Thank you.”
A dastardly chuckle and dark glint suddenly flashed in Wyn’s eyes and transformed his intimidating frame. “Damn it, Morgan. I fucking knew you had a history with that guy the second he walked into your apartment the other night. Then when I saw you pin him to the wall in the hallway... Shit, you owned him, man. I could feel it.”
Right now, Devlin could feel heat rushing to his face. “He’s someone you will come to admire and respect. I know it.” His heart slipped back inside the house, to the man sitting on that couch trusting in Devlin, and Devlin’s tone went soft. “Thank you, Wyn. You won’t regret this.”
In one blink of his eyes, Wyn slipped fully into cop mode. “I’m not doing anything but taking a statement from a woman whose ex-husband broke into her home. There’s nothing to regret.” He jerked his head toward the front door. “Now, how about you introduce me and let me get to work on putting this asswipe back in jail where he belongs.”
Devlin led him inside. “Let’s do it.”
* * * *
With his back to the group of three sitting at the dining room table, Wyn said, “Thanks,” and ended his phone call.
So far, Grace had quickly given Wyn an updated physical description of her ex-husband, including his choice of army garb, and Garrick had shared what he could recall of the car and license plate number. Grace had also told Wyn about the gun, which Wyn had photographed with his cell phone and taken as evidence using a Ziploc bag Grace had provided. While Wyn took care of the gun and photographing the window in the bathroom Randy had broken in order to gain entry into the house, Devlin had watched Garrick speak softly to the kids once again, quietly assuring them that everything was okay.
Now Devlin, Garrick, and Grace were back in the dining room, where they could talk while keeping an eye on Shawn and Chloe in the living room. The kids were sitting so close together they were almost on top of each other, huddled up tightly as they watched a movie.
Wyn moved back to the table and sat down. “All right. That call I just made will get a BOLO created so that we can officially start looking for Randy and his car. We’ll also have the black and whites make a point to check out parking lots of area hotels, as well as motels off the local interstate ramps. That’s just to get us started.” He shifted his attention and put it fully on Grace. “You said Randy was wearing military gear. Is he retired Army or part of the Reserves?”
“No.” She rubbed her bare arms, and Devlin saw her shiver. “He was one of yours, though.” Her voice scratched some as she shared. “A police officer, out of Boise.”
Garrick’s lips twisted in a snarl, and Devlin knew his green eyes sparked fire under the blue of his contacts. “Son of a bitch,” Garrick swore viciously. “That is not what going into law enforcement is about. It’s a fucking abuse of power. That’s how he was able to find Grace so quickly after being released from prison.”
Grace nodded, and Wyn turned a sharp glance on Garrick. Just a quick second’s worth, but it was clearly enough for full understanding of Garrick’s former life to slip into place for Wyn.
Wyn made a blink of eye contact with Devlin, and then moved on to Grace. “I’m going to take a look into why the parole board didn’t contact you the minute he was granted an early release,” he said. “That is a serious error on their part.”
“Randy didn’t get sent to prison for assaulting me,” Grace shared. “I couldn’t make that happen. He had too many friends on the force willing to believe I was hysterical, or a bitch, or out for revenge because I’m a woman and of course men can never do enough to please a woman.” The waver she’d started out with left her voice. She sat up straighter and her chin lifted higher, but she kept her tone low enough not to be heard by small ears one room away. “But when Randy attacked a man in a bar and took a stab at him with a skinning
