Page 45 of Dangerous Lies

Her gaze swept the room. She spotted a battered stool and dragged it away from the workbench. “Take off your jacket and sit down.”

“I don’t?—”

“Sit, Jax.” Her tone brooked no argument. “You’re no good to me if you pass out from blood loss.”

To her relief, he didn’t argue. He moved sluggishly, struggling to pull his jacket off his injured arm. Megan helped him. Blood had soaked through his shirt, the fabric clinging to his skin. The bullet had torn through his shoulder, likely nicking an artery.

Urgency fueled her. She shed her raincoat, then her sweater, leaving only the cotton button-down underneath. Cold air kissed her skin, raising goosebumps as she fumbled with the buttons. She grabbed a rusted knife from the workbench and sliced through the fabric, tearing it into makeshift bandages.

Bundling one into a ball, she pressed it against the wound.

Jax hissed, his body going rigid.

Megan winced. “Sorry. Hold this here.”

He set his gun down on the bench and pressed his uninjured hand against the fabric. She balled up another piece and pushed it against the exit wound on the back of his shoulder. Working swiftly, she wrapped strips of her shirt around his arm, binding the makeshift bandages in place. Jax clenched his jaw as she tightened the last knot. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but he didn’t utter a word of complaint.

To her relief, the bleeding slowed. He still needed a hospital—maybe even surgery—but at least he wouldn’t keel over right here.

Megan touched his cheek, tenderness washing over her. “I think you’ll live.”

He rose, capturing her mouth with his. His lips were cool to the touch, and the kiss was brief, but it packed a punch. Megan felt dizzy from the rush of it. Then she shivered as he moved away from her, picked up his gun, and peeked into the barn through a hole in one of the wooden beams.

Birds in the rafters fluttered. Megan’s heart rate shot into the stratosphere as a creak followed. Was someone in the barn? She grabbed a crowbar from the workbench. The weight of the cold metal was reassuring. It wouldn’t help her in a fight against a bullet, but it was better than nothing. Then she flicked off the flashlight on her phone.

Darkness swallowed them. Fear stole her breath. Gripping the crowbar, she eased back toward the exit door. Her back bumped against a wooden storage ledge. The rotting beams caved under her slight weight, and Megan stifled a gasp as she toppled to the floor. Pain shot through her body as she collided with the hard cement.

Heaven help her, had the killer heard that?

Shock and fear froze her in place. She held her breath, her gaze locked on Jax’s back. He stood at the ready, gun pointed at the door. Several long, tense breaths followed. Then Jax eased open the door to the storage room and stepped into the main area of the barn. His boots scraped against the cement as he returned. “No one’s there.”

Megan breathed out a sigh of relief and scrambled to her feet. She flipped her flashlight back on. The beam flashed across something on the floor. She stifled a scream and stumbled back, straight into Jax’s arms. Pieces of rotting wood littered the cement where she’d fallen into the feed ledge. The makeshift box had shattered.

Among the wreckage, lying in the dust and decay, was a human skull.

TWENTY-FIVE

Megan trembled against him. She clutched the crowbar as if it could shield her from the bones scattered on the floor. Jax eased her aside and crouched down to examine the remains. The skull had a giant hole in the back. A bullet wound, if he had to hazard an educated guess.

The body had been here a while. Long enough for bugs and scavenger animals to pick the bones clean, despite the fact that it’d been stuffed in a storage ledge. Tattered clothes clung to the skeleton. A jacket and blue jeans. Among the rotting wood and bones was a wallet. Using the barrel of his gun, Jax flipped it open.

His body went ice cold as he read the name on the driver’s license.

Megan crouched beside him. Her light vanilla perfume was a welcome relief from the stench of the decay and mold. She gasped. “It’s Zeke.” Megan shook her head. “That’s impossible. I don’t… I don’t understand.”

Jax’s mind raced as he struggled to make sense of everything he knew. Pain from the bullet wound, and the subsequent blood loss, clouded his thinking. “He never answered our calls. No social media. No job history. No one has seen or heard from him in ten years—not his friends, not his neighbors. Only his family.”

Cody’s warning came rushing back.Leave Zeke alone.His threats. His desperation.

Jax exhaled. “Cody’s been cashing Zeke’s military disability checks. Maybe splitting the money with his mother. That’s why they never reported Zeke missing. It’s also why they didn’t want us looking for him.”

Megan blinked. “But… if Zeke has been dead all this time, then who’s been trying to kill me?”

Jax’s pulse hammered as everything snapped into place. “The cases were always connected—Oliver’s death and the threats against you.” The puzzle pieces that had refused to fit before were shifting, aligning into something terrible. “Oliver turned on Zeke. He was feeding information to the sheriff’s department. Why would he agree to meet Zeke in a secluded location?”

“He wouldn’t,” Megan whispered.

“No. He wouldn’t.” Jax’s thoughts raced. “Oliver ran that night. He was terrified, said someone was trying to kill him. You said he had a scuff on his chin, his jacket was missing. There was a fight. Why?” He could see it now, as if watching it unfold in real time. “He arrived at the barn and walked in on a murder. He fought with the killer—then ran, desperate, and called you for help.”

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