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do this to himself hung in the air. A second murder.

Ashley Simmons sat in an office. Bo Stanley was in the interview room.

Bustle in the hallway drew Isaac’s attention. Mrs. Stanley’s voice boomed, demanding to see her husband.

15

Mrs. Stanley and Bo were still in an embrace when Isaac took his position behind Gina in the observation room. Bo would be considered tall by most standards. Isaac had grown up a Quinn, so most men paled by comparison. Sizing him up, Bo had dark hair and eyes. He looked like he knew his way around a gym.

“Mr. Stanley, do you mind answering a few questions as to your whereabouts the past forty-eight hours?” Griff stood in the corner of the room, one arm folded across his chest and the other resting on top with his fist propping up his chin.

“I’ve been traveling for work.” Bo pulled out a chair for Mrs. Stanley. She took a seat and clasped her hands together before placing them on her lap.

“Do you mind providing a list of clients you visited?” Griff set a notebook and pen in front of Bo.

Bo Stanley’s eyes widened before he seemed to catch himself and recover. “Whatever I can do to help. I want to nail the bastard who hurt my precious Brittany.”

A slip? Maybe two? Also, he didn’t seem the type to think of a grown woman as precious. Leaned forward, shoulders hunched, Bo made a show of his grieving. There were folks like that, Isaac guessed. People who thrived on the attention they got from looking distraught. Those folks tended to milk the situation with words like precious.

Isaac didn’t like the man on sight. His shoulders hunkered forward, his expression forlorn, he played the part of the grieving step-dad a little too well? Was it rehearsed?

“When was the last time you saw Brittany, Mr. Stanley?” Griff asked.

He glanced at his wife. “A couple of days ago. Right before I left. When was that, honey? Tuesday?”

“Wednesday. You left on Wednesday, honey.” Mrs. Stanley’s hands were folded together in her lap and Bo gripped hers like he hung on for dear life.

Isaac hadn’t had a chance to discuss his concerns about the photos with Griff but his cousin was a seasoned law enforcement officer and probably picked up on more than Isaac had.

Deputy Sayer walked into the interview room and handed Griff a note. He opened the piece of paper and studied it.

“Can you excuse me for one second?” Griff exited the room and entered the observation area. “He’s a right-hander.”

“Damn.” Isaac knew exactly what this meant. Logan Simmons was murdered.

Bo Stanley stood and started pacing. “I can’t believe this happened and the sheriff is asking where I’ve been.” His anger climbed a little higher with every step. “I mean, what does he want me to say? I wasn’t even in town.”

Mrs. Stanley looked up at him and there was so much vulnerability in her eyes. “You were gone. Right?”

“What kind of question is that?” Bo paced a little faster and stabbed his fingers through his dye job. A man of his age should have some gray. Bo had none.

Mrs. Stanley shrugged. She stared at the table. “You didn’t answer my texts. I got worried about you. And then when you finally did answer something was different.” Her gaze came up, pinning him. “Tell me you were gone. Tell me you were nowhere near my daughter.”

“Why would I hurt Brittany? She was my family.”

“You guys didn’t get along. You argued before you left for the trip. A trip that seemed to come up last minute.”

“The man who killed your daughter is dead.” Bo leveled his gaze at his wife.

Jesus. How would Bo Stanley know that? Information about Logan Simmons’s death had not been leaked outside of the department.

Isaac gave the suspect a once-over. Now that he was standing, Isaac had another question. What was up with the mud on his shoes?

A run through the backyards of houses two days after a rain would do the trick.

Isaac elbowed Griff. “Did you get a look at his shoes?”

“Yes.”

Bo made a move to leave. He huffed out the door where he stopped cold.

“Hold on there, Mr. Stanley. Where do you think you’re going?” Griff and Isaac stood side-by-side, blocking his exit in the hallway.

“I’m done here.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Am I under arrest?” Bo asked.

“Why would you be?” Griff dropped his hand to rest on the butt of his gun.

The first scream that reverberated down the hallway sounded like an animal who’d been caught in an illegal trap. The one that followed nearly ripped Isaac’s heart from his chest. From then on, Mrs. Stanley’s wails could probably be heard in the parking lot for how loud they were.

Bo pulled an about face and broke out running down the opposite way.

Griff bolted after him, along with Isaac who was followed by Gina. Bo found an exit. Shrill alarms pierced the air as he threw his shoulder into the door to open it enough to blast outside.

A deputy was in the parking lot and saw the scene as it unfolded. He drew his weapon and aimed the business end at Bo. “Stop and put your hands where I can see them.”

Bo threw his hands in the air but his gaze gave away his intentions. He was desperately searching for cover and a getaway. He had to know he was going down for Brittany’s murder and his past was about to catch up to him with the other women he’d swindled. Had Brittany uncovered the truth? Was that the reason he had to get rid of her?

With her secretive lifestyle, Bo must’ve figured law enforcement would take a while to catch up to him. By then, he could’ve been long gone. He’d never intended to stick around Gunner. Nor had he intended to honor his vows to Mrs. Stanley.

Griff’s weapon was now pointed at Bo. The deputy was trained to shoot to kill. Isaac couldn’t allow Bo to get off that easily. The man needed to suffer life in prison with no chance of parole.

Law enforcement had to follow protocol. Isaac didn’t.

Pushing forward until his thighs burned, Isaac dove into the back of Bo’s legs. Bo’s knees buckled and his torso flew backward. There was a loud crack and it was most likely one of Bo’s bones snapping.

For a split-second, Bo was on top of Isaac. He easily shifted position and rolled until he was in the dominant spot. He squeezed his thighs to crush Bo in the ribs.

“I didn’t do anything wrong. You can’t prove I did it.”

“How’d you know about the suicide?” Griff was there, jerking Bo’s arm to put cuffs on him. He wrangled the man’s hands behind his back and snapped the other cuff on.

“I-I-I didn’t say anything like that. It’s your word against mine.” The man was grasping at straws.

“It’s over, asshole,” Gina said. “You’re going to jail.”

“You have the right to remain silent…” Griff Mirandized Bo.

The walk to the county jail would be short, considering it was on the property. Isaac had never been prouder of Gina when she stood toe-to-toe with the man who’d tried to kill her. She might have been shaken but her resolve was strong.

Isaac stood behind her and looped his arms around her waist as they watched the law serve justice.

Bo screamed and made threats, all the while cursing through the agony of a what looked like a broken ankle. He hobbled off in handcuffs, throwing a wild temper tantrum. There was no way the courts would let him off. This time, he was going down for his crimes.

“That’s gonna leave a mark.” Isaac laughed.

Gina let herself smile. She leaned against him, back to chest, and he whispered, “I love you.”

Gina waited until Bo Stanley was out of sight before she turned and kissed Isaac. “Take me home.”

He smiled, a show of perfect white teeth. “Three of my favorite words.”

Exhaustion wore thin on the drive to the ranch where her mother and Everly waited. It was safe for her mother to go home now but Gina had called ahead and asked her mother to stick around for a little while. She needed to see for herself that everyone was okay.

The ranch was

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