Page 68 of Crosshairs

“I’m afraid they’ll paint a different picture. I need to know what’s in the diaries to be prepared if Kingston gets his hands on them.”

“Who’s going to care what happened 150 years ago?” Linc asked.

“I know most voters won’t care, but the race is projected to be so close that I can’t afford to lose even one vote.” He held up his hand. “Elections are about perception. If there is damaging information in the diaries and that information went viral, it would have a negative impact on my campaign.”

“But how would the diary get into Kingston’s hands?” Ainsley cocked her head. “And how do you know what was in the first diary?”

“Cora told me.” His face flushed under her scrutiny.

He’d chosen not to answer how Kingston would get the diaries. If that first diary had been stolen, and it was beginning to sound like it was, maybe the thief was offering it to the highest bidder. And Kingston and her father were the bidders.

Ainsley shuddered. It amounted to political blackmail, but if her father wouldn’t admit someone was blackmailing him, there was little she could do. “I have to go,” she said.

“Wait. If the diary isn’t in the safe, and you don’t have it with you, where is it? Surely not in your pickup.”

“Nope,” Ainsley said. “Linc is chauffeuring me around.”

“Good. Relieves my mind to know you’re not handling this by yourself,” he said, changing like a chameleon as he slapped Linc on the shoulder.

She ground her teeth. Why couldn’t he have confidence in her? The thought almost made Ainsley snort. She could count on one hand how many times he’d said “Good job” on anything she’d ever done.

But why was that so important to her? She pushed the question away. It wasn’t important. Her medals and citations proved her worth. She didn’t need his approval.

35

Linc studied Ainsley. The conversation with her father had drained her—it showed in her tense jaw and the tired lines around her eyes.

A text chimed on his phone. Linc groaned. His request for tomorrow off had been denied since no other ranger could take his place.

“Ready?” he asked as she joined him at the door.

“Yes. What did you make of my dad’s conversation?”

“He knows a lot about the journals to claim not to.”

“He’s hiding something, for sure, but I need to switch gears and focus on the reason I’m in Natchez,” she said. “I checked on Connie Hanover just now and her condition has been upgraded to good.”

“That’s great news. I still hate that I can’t take off tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry about it. I rarely ever have someone working with me anyway.”

They walked toward the automatic doors. “Wait here until I get the Tahoe.”

Once he picked her up, he pointed the Tahoe out of the parking lot. “Any word from your supervisor on Maddox?”

“No. I’ll text Brent for an update.” She sent the message on her phone, then scrolled through it. “Last night before I went to sleep, I requested a drawing showing a beard.” She held herphone up. “This is what they just sent. Do you think we can go by Cora’s and print this?”

When Linc stopped for a light, he glanced at the drawing. “That should help. I’ll turn back at the next intersection.”

A horn beeped behind him as he let the traffic clear out so he could get into the left lane. Impatient drivers. Then the car switched lanes with him. Were they being followed?

He noted the color and model as he turned left and it shot past them. A mint-green MINI Cooper. Sarah? He hadn’t been able to see the driver in the tinted windows, but he didn’t have a good feeling about it.

Could she have followed them to the hospital? He hadn’t seen her, but she might not have made her presence known ... especially if she’d overheard their conversation with J.R. But surely he would have seen her. Or not. Their conversation with J.R. had been pretty intense. “You think someone is blackmailing your dad?”

“You felt that too?”

“Yes, and I think you should advise the chief of police about your suspicions that someone broke into Cora’s house.” He turned at the next intersection. “Do you know the chief of police, Pete Nelson?”

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