Page 22 of Outlaw Ridge: Griff
She shook her head slowly, trying to make sense of it. “If he did… why? What would that buy him?”
Griff looked back toward the bullpen, where Rhett sat nursing his arm and muttering under his breath.
“That,” he said, “is what we need to find out.”
Lily followed Griff back to the bullpen, her thoughts tangled and uneasy. She couldn’t shake what he’d said about the wound, how the angle seemed off. It was a stretch. But in this case, even stretches had to be considered.
Rhett was still in the chair, his arm pressed tightly against his side, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. He was talking to Hallie, his voice gravelly but forceful.
“I told you that I didn’t see anyone,” he said. “I got out of my truck, and the shot came fast. Didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t see movement. Just pain and pavement.”
Hallie didn’t flinch. “I’m sending out Hayes and Jesse. They’ll knock on doors, ask around. Someone might have seen something.”
Jesse was already grabbing his coat, Hayes right behind him. The front doors closed quietly as they headed out into the cold.
Jemma, who’d been standing near the front windows, turned back toward the group. “What about Margo? She left not long before it happened. Maybe she saw something.”
Rhett’s head whipped up so fast that Lily thought he might aggravate the wound. “Margo?” he snapped. “Why the hell wouldshehave seen anything?”
Lily met his gaze. “Because she’s back in town. And she was just here. Ten minutes ago.”
Rhett’s face shifted, something tight and uneasy pulling at the edges. It wasn’t pain this time.
It was alarm.
“Damn it,” he muttered. “It was probably her then.”
“Why would Margo shoot you?” Griff asked, his tone neutral but probing.
“Because she hates my guts,” Rhett snapped, his voice edged with bitterness. He shifted in the chair, wincing as the movement jostled his arm. “She blames me for Hannah’s death. Says if I’d done my job that night, her sister would still be alive.”
Lily felt her chest tighten.
Rhett looked away, jaw flexing. “Hannah was working late at the feed store. I was inside, talking with Jimmy Doyle, the owner. We were shooting the breeze about a break-in from the week before. She closed up, waved goodbye, and walked out.”
He shook his head, eyes narrowing. “It was dark. I should’ve paid attention, maybe. But she didn’t ask for a ride. Didn’t say anything about being worried. It wasn’t my job to play chauffeur to every girl locking up late.”
Griff’s expression didn’t shift, but Lily could feel the tension coming off him.
“Margo’s hatred is misplaced,” Rhett spat out. “She needed someone to blame for Hannah being dead. Someone other than just Bobby Ray, I guess, and I was the easiest target.”
Lily stood just behind Griff, arms folded as Rhett adjusted in the chair, his breath still coming a little fast, whether from pain or nerves, she couldn’t quite tell. Her eyes dropped to the bloodstained bandage, then back to his face.
She’d read Rhett’s original statement in the file a dozen times. He’d noted being at the feed store, mentioned that Hannah left around closing, but he hadn’t said a word about Margo blaming him. Not even a hint of personal fallout. And that stuck with her now.
“I’m not familiar with all the details of the case,” Griff said, calm, his tone almost casual.
Lily glanced at him, surprised. She knew hewasfamiliar with the details. He’d read the file cover to cover in under an hour, and his memory was like a steel trap. He hadn’t forgotten anything.
He was baiting Rhett. Carefully.
“What was the estimated time of death?” Griff asked. “After she left the store.”
Rhett’s jaw tightened. His eyes flicked toward Lily, then back to Griff. “Less than an hour,” he said finally.
Griff nodded slowly. “So you were possibly the last person to see her alive.” He paused. “Other than her killer, that is.”
Rhett’s face flushed. He sat forward with a grimace, his good hand curling into a fist on his thigh.
