Page 96 of The Moments You Were Mine

“Okay. So you gave him the alarm codes. Then what?” Fallon prompted.

“A-after…he said I had a record and that I’d h-helped him commit a crime, so if I didn’t continue to help him, he’d make sure I went to jail.” His voice hitched. “My mom’s sick, you know. She works part time at the emporium downtown, but I help with just about everything around the house. If I went to j-jail…wh-who would take care of her?”

Fuck. Whoever this was had played on this kid’s fears about his mom and jail. But even knowing that, I couldn’t quite forgive him when he’d put Fallon and the ranch at risk to save his own ass. My empathy was almost nonexistent, whereas Fallon looked like she might cry right along with the teen.

“Do you know his name?” Fallon asked softly. “Did he tell you why he was doing this?”

“Wh-when he first approached me, he said he was undercover. He went by the name Terry. L-later h-he said the H-harringtons had stolen from his family. Th-that you were all evil and r-ruined his and other people’s lives. I spat at him wh-when he said that, told him he was a liar, and he clocked me.” Chuck rubbed his cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Chuck,” Fallon said, her voice all kindness while my anger grew inch by inch. “You must have felt so scared and alone.”

“I didn’t know he took the r-rifle, Fallon. I swear…I would have t-told you. N-no one was supposed to g-get hurt.”

“Fallon almost died multiple times,” I snarled.

The kid sobbed. “He said it was just payback for some stolen money.”

My mind went straight to her Uncle Adam. Shit, was this him? Fallon’s uncle was still in jail. He’d never see the outside of a prison again, but he could have hired someone to do this. The feds thought they’d seized all his offshore accounts with the money he’d embezzled from the ranch, but maybe they’d missed one. Maybe he still had enough money to hire a hitman.

But why wait ten years? What had changed that would push him into acting now that Fallon had control of the ranch?

“When was the last time you saw him?” I demanded.

“Day before the cabin explosion.”

“You’ll look through the video feeds from that day and see if you can identify him. If not, you’ll work with a sketch artist so we can get an image of him,” I ordered.

“I’ll do wh-whatever I can, but he always wore a hat and glasses,” Chuck said. “He had long sleeves on, even when it was hot. And he had a big, bushy beard, so I’m not sure if I’llrecognize him without any of that.”

“You’re still going to try,” I said coldly.

Chuck nodded and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Am I g-going to jail?”

“That depends on the sheriff,” I said just as Fallon said, “No.”

I glared at her.

“Parker?” Kurt’s voice had me spinning to face him with a snarl. Taking in Chuck’s puffy face and my grimness, his lips flattened into a straight line. “Two guys are here to see you, but what’s going on in here?”

Most of the Marquess Enterprises security team had shown up last night. I’d debriefed them over the phone from Fallon’s place. They had a list of things to do today, including installing over fifty new cameras and patrolling the property in new, random shifts only I was privy to. Once Wylee had dropped his accusations, Dad and I had agreed the new arrivals would report only to me. Part of their job would be to question the existing security team and any staff who remained as part of the skeleton crew. Whoever this was wouldn’t walk away from the ranch now, and in order to remain below suspicion, they’d have to sign up to help or stand out like a sore thumb.

I glanced again at Chuck’s teary-eyed face and then headed for the barn doors.

“I’ll let Fallon catch you up. But, Kurt, we need to keep a lid on what Chuck has told us until we catch this fucker.”

When I stepped outside, the sun blinded me, and I raised my hand just as a fist pummeled me in the shoulder. In two seconds, I’d gripped the wrist and twisted the man’s arm behind his back, only to release it when I heard Cranky’s rough voice chuckling.

“Damn, you don’t mess around, Baywatch.”

Next to him, Sweeney’s lips twitched, eyes hiding behind the same tinted sunglasses Cranky wore. Both men were over six feet tall with shoulders the size of a linebacker’s, but that was where their physical similarities ended. Sweeney was dark-skinned to Cranky’s pure white. Sweeney had hair that curled into knots when not shaved down to the scalp, and Cranky’s was straight and ice-blond.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” I asked, but inside, relief swelled.

“Leave no man behind,” Sweeney said. “That doesn’t just mean while we’re on assignment, shithead.”

“You talk to JJ and Ace Turner?” I demanded.

“We had a nice long conversation with those assholes.” Cranky grinned. “Six men in black clothes and ski masks had them pissing their pants.”