Page 4 of Dangerous Lies

This was opening a whole new avenue of investigation, one Jax wasn’t certain would lead anywhere, but it was worth thinking about. “Let’s talk about this more tomorrow. It’s been a long day.”

“Sure.” Noah clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve got your back. Never doubt that.”

Jax nodded, but his heart felt heavy and worries crowded his mind. What if they never found the truth? Oliver’s death haunted him. It’d been easy to push back the grief when he was working undercover for the ATF in Atlanta, but moving back home last year had brought those buried feelings to the surface. Seeing the way Oliver’s death had affected his entire family made things worse.

Jax wanted to fix it. He wanted closure. Justice. The thought that he might not get it… well, that was a bitter pill to swallow.

He packed up his desk and headed for his truck. The cool night air felt good on his flushed skin, but it did little to clear his head. Megan’s parting words echoed in his mind.I pray you do.If she truly was responsible for Oliver’s death, would she really want him to find the truth? Or was this just another way to manipulate the case? Jax wanted to believe it was the latter, but something in her voice… he could’ve sworn in that moment, Megan was telling the truth. And she had seemed genuinely terrified by the emails.

Jax had accused Noah of letting his feelings impede the investigation, but maybe… maybe he was the one not seeing things clearly.

A dark shape on the side of the road caught his attention, pulling him abruptly from his thoughts. As he drew closer, his headlights flashed across a Toyota RAV4, parked half on, half off the narrow country road. The driver’s side door hung open. No one was inside the vehicle, at least from what he could see.

Weird. An uneasy prickle ran down his spine. Jax flipped on his turret lights and radioed Angie, their night dispatcher. “Can you run a plate number for me?” he asked, rattling off the letters and numbers as he scanned the tree line bordering both sides of the road. The lake glimmered faintly in the distance.

Angie’s voice crackled over the radio. “Got a name for you, Detective. Owner of the vehicle is Megan Ingles.”

Concern sank deep claws into him. “I’m going to investigate further. Stand by.”

“10-4.”

Jax grabbed his flashlight and portable radio before exiting the truck. His training took over, his mind cataloging every detail. No visible damage on the rear bumper. Tires intact. The Toyota was still running, headlights on, but the overhead light inside was off. Loose gravel crunched under his boots and his breath fogged in the cold air as Jax drew closer to the open driver’s side door. His flashlight picked up a dark stain on the panel.

Blood.

More speckled the steering wheel and the dash. He tightened his grip on the flashlight, angling it across the interior. “Megan?”

No response. Her purse lay on the floor, cell phone in the cup holder. No jacket. More blood peppered the floorboards and seat. Jax’s heart rate kicked into overdrive. He pressed the button on his portable radio. “Angie, I need a patrol car at my location.”

What on earth had happened here? The blood was concerning, but it wasn’t enough to indicate a violent assault. She could’ve hurt herself somehow. And then… what? Disappeared, leaving her car running and her door open? No. It seemed more likely she’d escaped from the vehicle. This area of the lake was a protected nature reserve. No houses, no stores. It was deserted at this hour.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

He scanned the area around the vehicle, searching for any sign of Megan. His mind clung stubbornly to the idea that she might have staged this, just like the emails. It was a horrible thought, but Jax didn’t want to believe someone had truly been after her. Because if they were, he might already be too late.

He swept the flashlight toward the lake, glimpsing a path through the tall grass. The flattened stalks suggested someone had run across in a hurry. Jax followed the trail.

A scream tore through the night.

THREE

A hand clamped down on her ankle, dragging Megan from her makeshift hiding spot. Stones and jagged bark clawed at her back, tearing her skin. She screamed. The sound was instinctive. Primal. Animalistic. Her chest tightened with terror as the attacker yanked her toward him. His grip was bruising. Blood matted her hair and dripped down her neck from the pistol-whipping she’d received while escaping her vehicle. He’d already fired at her once—and missed—as she fled into the woods. But Megan knew at such close range, she didn’t stand a chance.

This was a fight for her life.

Desperate, she kicked out with her other foot. The pointed heel of her boot landed somewhere in his midsection. He cursed, but his grip on her ankle didn’t loosen, and he kept yanking her toward him. She threw a rock, but it bounced off his shoulder, useless. His other hand lifted, the gun clasped tightly in his fingers.

She twisted hard before he could take aim, throwing her weight to the side just as he squeezed the trigger. The bullet struck the dirt behind her. Her sudden movement threw the assailant off balance, and his grip on her ankle slipped. Taking her chance, Megan scrambled backward. Her fingers stumbled over a thick tree branch. She snatched it up and stood, swinging it like a club at the attacker’s head.

Vibrations coursed up her arm as the tree branch hit home. The attacker cried out and his knees buckled.

Megan dropped the branch and ran.

Blindly, she tore through the thick woods. Branches snagged at her clothes and her boots—made for casual walks and professional outings—slipped on the pine needles. Her heart pounded. It was hard to breathe. Megan’s exercise of choice was yoga. She wasn’t prepared for a panicked run through the woods with a killer on her heels. Survival depended on getting to her car. Hopefully, the keys were still inside, and she’d be able to escape. If not…

She’d die.

The problem was, her assailant would expect her to head for the road. Would he beat her there? He’d proven adept at flushing her out, finding her hiding place within seconds. It probably didn’t help that Megan was crashing through the woods like a runaway herd of horses. Terror narrowed her vision and her chest squeezed tight. Her foot caught on a tree root, and she stumbled, barely catching herself. Pain radiated from her shoulder and head as she collided with a tree.

---