Page 47 of Crosshairs

Austin nodded tersely without replying.

“I hope this is the end of it,” Jack said, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest.

“It’s like I said—”

“I heard what you said, but don’t make a big deal out of his relationship with that girl just to help your father get elected governor.”

“Excuse me?” Ainsley’s voice held ice in it.

“Look, I know what you’re doing,” Jack said. “You better hope a reporter doesn’t get hold of this and blast all over TV that Jack Kingston’s grandson is being investigated for the murder of Hannah Dyson.”

For a second when Ainsley’s face lit up like a flaming match, Linc feared she might not hold her temper. Then she took a breath and shook her head like she was shaking off an annoying mosquito.

“Mr. Kingston, I would’ve hoped you knew me better than that,” she said, her voice even. “But you will not intimidate me. I have a murder to solve and I plan to do it. If your grandson has information I need, I will get it. Thank you for your time.”

Mentally, Linc applauded her spunk as he followed her out of the office.

Austin’s voice stopped them at the door. “I heard about Miss Cora’s fall. I hope she recovers quickly.”

Ainsley gave him a nod. As they walked across the parking lot to his SUV, Linc said, “Good job back there.”

“I cannot believe he thinks I would do what he accused me of.”

“He probably doesn’t, just wants to get his point across and keep you off-balance.”

Ainsley checked her watch. “It’s too late to check with the school today, but first thing Monday morning, I plan to be there. Hopefully the principal will be willing to give me the names and addresses of the boys Hannah hung around with.”

“You might get more than that,” Linc said. “I read in thepaper that the high school coach was holding a football camp next week.”

“You’re kidding! That’s great.”

The broad smile she gave him kicked his heart up but at the same time triggered the ache that was always with him. Then he remembered their shoulders touching at Cora’s and how her voice shook afterwards. Maybe it wasn’t such a lost cause after all.

Linc opened the passenger door for Ainsley, and she shot him a questioning glance before stepping onto the running board and sliding across the seat. “What? I can’t be gentlemanly?”

As he slid in on the driver’s side, her phone rang, and she glanced at the caller ID. “Brent Murphy. Finally.”

Her supervisor in East Tennessee. Linc drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as she answered.

“Did you get my message?” Ainsley asked.

His mouth dried when she fell silent, listening.

“I didn’t see any messages. When were they sent?” Ainsley closed her eyes. “I see.” She sat up straight. “No. You can’t take me off this case. We don’t have absolute proof it was Maddox who attacked me.” Her jaw clenched as she listened to her supervisor. “You didn’t take Harold Jones off his case last year when someone was stalking him.”

Linc wished he could hear Murphy’s side of the conversation.

“Today’s attack could’ve been from someone hyped up on meth or worse,” she said. “Look, Sam Ryker and his field rangers are here and Sam’s asked Lincoln Steele, a former FBI sniper, to help out with the investigation. He and Sam Ryker will have my back.”

A minute later she disconnected and released a long breath.

“You okay?”

Ainsley straightened her shoulders and stared straight ahead. “Yeah.”

“Are you still on the case?”

“Yes. Don’t know for how long, though.”

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