Page 15 of Dangerous Lies

“Your grandmother’s fine,” Pops finally said. “But… never mind, I’ll explain when I see you. Don’t move from your office. Chief Garcia will send a patrol unit to pick you up.”

She went cold. “What happened?”

“You got another message from your stalker.”

NINE

Jax tightened his hold on the steering wheel as he maneuvered through an intersection, past a farm truck loaded with hay bales and a family sedan packed with kids dressed in karate uniforms. His turret lights strobed, alerting other drivers that he was in a rush, but he hadn’t activated the siren since no one was in physical danger. At least, not at the moment. Megan’s grandparents were fine. Officers were already at the house. Chief Garcia and Noah were en route.

For better or worse, the stalker was fixated on Megan. Whatever message he’d left was meant for her.

The road cleared, and Jax punched the gas harder. He spared a quick glance at his passenger. Megan sat stiffly, one hand gripping her purse, the other clutching the overhead roll bar. Her complexion was pale. Wisps of blonde hair covered the stitches in her scalp, and a faint bruise marred the delicate curve of her jaw. A thin cut etched across her top lip.

He’d made a terrible mistake.

Jax had been so fixated on blaming Megan for Oliver’s death, he’d never considered the alternative—that she was telling the truth. His shortsightedness had cost him valuable investigation time and placed a target on her back. Questions crowded his mind, but one was more important than the others. “Who wanted Oliver dead?”

She gripped her purse tighter. “I don’t know anything for certain.”

His fingers flexed against the steering wheel and he shot her a warning look. “You and Oliver hadn’t spoken in months, but you were friends. Good friends. For almost a year. You have a suspicion. I need to know who wanted Oliver dead. Who hates my family enough to kill one brother and frame another for a crime he didn’t commit?”

“All I have are suspicions. A gut feeling. Before I share what I think, I need your word. As a Christian.”

“Now’s not the time for games.”

“You’re right. It isn’t.” Her gaze slanted his way and her eyes narrowed. “You’re asking me to trust you. Until half an hour ago, you were convinced I’d killed Oliver. I refuse to toss a name to the police without some assurance that the person will be treated fairly.”

Jax swallowed down his pride and his temper. Megan was right. After the way she’d been treated, it wasn’t an unreasonable request. He gave a sharp nod. “You have my word. All I want is the truth.”

She was quiet for a moment and then said, “Zeke Russell.”

“Who is that?”

“Zeke and his brother, Cody, owned a gym called Bodybuilders. Zeke’s the one who hooked Oliver into drugs, supplying him with oxy and steroids. Eventually, Oliver started fighting for Zeke in illegal competitions to pay for his habit. Their relationship was volatile. Sometimes violent. Zeke had a temper, and I suspect he was also abusing drugs.”

“When you say violent, what do you mean exactly?”

Megan winced. “He threw a chair at Oliver once. Punched him in the face. I know there were other incidents, but those were the only ones I witnessed. Oliver put up with it because Zeke supplied him with drugs and paid him to fight in the competitions. It wasn’t a friendship, per se, more like two men using each other. If Oliver did or said something that set Zeke off…” She shook her head. “I could see it going badly.”

“When’s the last time you saw or spoke to Zeke?” Jax slowed and turned into her tree-lined driveway. A patrol car was already in front of the house, but there was no sign of the officer who went with it.

“I cut everyone from that part of my life out when I got sober, Zeke included.”

Jax opened his mouth to ask another question, but Megan was already out of the truck. She hurried to the front door. Sunshine picked up the red highlights in her hair and the tension riding her shoulders. The cab of his truck still carried the faint scent of her perfume, a faint vanilla that reminded him of warm cookies.

He quickly followed Megan into the house. She was hugging her grandparents and the relief on the elderly couple’s faces was clear. Officer Tucker Colburn also stood in the living room. His expression was grim, and he greeted Jax with a head nod.

“Report.” Jax kept his voice low to prevent Megan and her grandparents from overhearing.

“Call came in at eighteen hundred hours. Clay Ingles and his wife returned from running errands and spotted an intruder on the property near the lake. They locked themselves in the house. I arrived on scene at eighteen-oh-seven and swept the property.” Tucker’s expression darkened. “Detective Graham arrived at eighteen-oh-nine. He was nearby and came to assist. The perpetrator was gone, but he left behind an explicit threat.”

Jax glanced out the window and spotted his colleague Detective Dawson Graham walking near a dilapidated boathouse, partially shrouded by trees. Dressed in a hoodie and blue jeans, Dawson was off duty, but must’ve heard the call on the radio. He’d already roped off the area with yellow crime scene tape and was taking photographs. Whatever message the stalker had left wasn’t visible from the house.

“How long were the Ingles out running errands?” Jax asked.

“About twenty minutes.”

“Did they get a look at the trespasser?”

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