to do some jail time.” Probably not much, though, since the sheriff had told her that Harley didn’t have any priors and would likely get probation.
Still, it must have been enough motive for Cord because he typed something else in his notes. He was still typing when his phone rang.
“Jax,” Cord said, glancing at the screen.
One of the deputies. This was no doubt about the investigation. “Put the call on speaker, please,” she said.
Karina wasn’t sure Cord would do that, and judging from the way the muscles in his face stirred, Cord wasn’t sure of it, either. However, he did press the speaker button when he answered it.
“This is a heads-up,” Jax informed Cord. “You need to keep that ranch hand, Rocky, away from Karina.”
Her heart went to her throat. “Why?” Cord and she asked in unison.
“Because you’re not going to believe what we found in the bunkhouse where he was staying. I just called Jericho to have him take Rocky into custody.”
Cord didn’t know what Jax had seen that’d caused him to make that call, but he figured he wasn’t going to like it.
Karina certainly wouldn’t, either.
She’d practically jumped to defend her ranch hand, but judging from Jax’s tone, she wouldn’t be defending Rocky after she saw the photos that Jax had sent to the sheriff’s office.
Jax hadn’t wanted to describe them over the phone, only adding that the pictures would be worth a million words. Cord only hoped whatever they were, it would be enough to pin attempted murder charges on the man so he could end Karina’s doubts about Willie Lee not being the Moonlight Strangler. That way, Cord could walk away from this, from her, and know that they had the right man in custody.
Then, maybe he could start dealing with the feelings that he’d buried deep within him.
Of course, first they had to find Rocky.
Despite being told by both Cord and Jericho to go to the sheriff’s office, the ranch hand had yet to show up. Cord figured that wasn’t a good sign.
“Are you okay?” Cord asked her.
Karina gave a heavy sigh and tore her gaze from the cruiser window, where she was looking at the shops on Main Street as they rode past them. She was pretending to look at them at least. He figured her mind was really on her ranch hand and the fact that she’d nearly died tonight.
“Every inch of me is hurting,” she admitted. “And I’m upset about Rocky. How about you?”
Cord went with the lie. “I’m fine.”
But every inch of him was hurting, as well. Man, he needed a long soak in the tub and a handful of aspirin. He wasn’t counting on getting either anytime soon.
“Move fast when we get out of the cruiser,” Cord instructed Karina when the sheriff’s office came into view.
Jericho had sent the vehicle to the hospital to pick them up, and Cord was thankful for not only the ride—his truck was still back at Karina’s—but also for the deputy driving. With Karina’s attacker still out there, he didn’t want to be without some kind of backup. And he didn’t want her in the open any longer than necessary.
The deputy stopped by the front door, and Cord hurried her in. Jericho and Levi were there, both talking on their phones, but Jericho motioned for them to follow him into his office. Judging from what part of the conversation he could hear, Jericho was having a chat with one of his other deputies, and once they were in his office, he motioned for them to sit.
Jericho cursed and ended the call. He looked at both of them and mumbled yet more profanity. Probably because they both looked like hell, but Cord knew the cursing wasn’t all for them.
“Still no sign of Rocky, but Jax is staying at Karina’s place a while longer to see if he shows up there. Any idea where he’d go?” Jericho asked her.
Karina shook her head, winced a little. No doubt from the pain. Jericho noticed, and that prompted him to take out a huge bottle of ibuprofen from his desk and two bottles of water from the small fridge in the corner.
“Help yourself,” Jericho offered.
Well, it wasn’t aspirin and a bath, but it would do for now. Cord exceeded the recommended dose by a lot and hoped that the pain in his head faded to at least a tolerable throb before long.
“I don’t know where Rocky would go,” Karina said, gulping down two of the pills. “On his references he said he didn’t have any family, that he’d been raised in foster care.” She lifted her shoulder. “I’m not sure if that’s even true.”
“It’s not,” Jericho quickly responded. He turned his laptop in their direction so they could see the screen.
Not photos of the bunkhouse but rather a mug shot. Of Rocky.
“He was arrested for stealing a car,” Jericho went on.
Karina was shaking her head before he even finished. “I did a computer check, and a record didn’t come up.”
“Because he was arrested when he was a juvie, and it was sealed. But he has parents, all right. They adopted him from foster care when he was a kid. They’re in their eighties now, and they basically disowned him when he was in his twenties and haven’t seen him since. They don’t want to see him, either, and said they’d call the cops in a heartbeat if he showed up at their house.”
Jericho clicked to the next picture. Or rather the next pictures. There were a series of shots that filled up the whole screen. “This is what Jax found in the bunkhouse. It was all in a box beneath Rocky’s bed.”
Karina stood, probably so she could have a better look. Then, she gasped.
Damn.
There were newspaper clippings. Dozens of them from the looks of it. With headlines detailing everything about the Moonlight Strangler. Including Willie Lee’s capture.
“Rocky clearly has a disturbing hobby,” Jericho explained. “I just had a quick chat with his parents—he’s not there, by the way—and they said for most of his life Rocky’s been obsessed with serial killers. And that they’ve heard through acquaintances that he idolizes the Moonlight Strangler.”
“Oh, God,” Karina whispered, sinking back into the chair.
“He had other pictures in that box.” Jericho clicked to the next screen. Not newspaper clippings.
But rather photos of Karina.
In them, she wasn’t doing anything special. Just errands, grocery shopping, that sort of thing. However, there were dozens of them. Including some of her in the interior of the barn.
Cord could have sworn that with each one she studied more and more color drained from her face. With reason. Most of the photos were grainy, as if they’d been taken with a long-range lens. And that meant Rocky had probably been spying on Karina for days or even weeks.
There were also shots of the Appaloosa Pass Hospital, where Willie Lee had stayed two days before being transported to the hospital at the prison. There were photos of the exterior of the prison, too.
“Rocky’s a groupie,” Cord concluded. If there hadn’t already been a knot in his stomach, that would have done it. It was hard to understand why anyone would attach themselves to a serial killer.
But it did give Rocky a motive for what’d gone on tonight.
Cord made eye contact with Karina before he said anything. “It’s possible Rocky was responsible for the attack. He might have believed this was the way to get Willie Lee released from jail.”
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