Page 45 of Ranger Devotion

“Yep. Want me to get you some?”

“No thanks. I’ll grab a cup after we look at this email. If it ever loads.” He stifled a yawn.

She extended toward him. A hint of pink rose in her cheeks. “I drink it black.”

The intimacy of her gesture was not lost on him. Tate accepted the mug and sipped, nearly humming with satisfaction. “This is good. Did you make it?”

“I did.”

He grinned. “You’ll have to teach me your tricks. Mine usually tastes like mud.”

She huffed a laugh, that adorable blush creeping higher. Tate took another sip and returned her cup. Their fingers brushed, and the brief contact made him want more. The incident with the tree branch and the shattered window drove home how precarious their situation was, and the follow-up text had been disturbing. He’d put his life on the line to save anyone—it was his duty—but the idea of the killer coming after Annie…it terrified him.

He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her until this was over. But he held back. Annie needed time and space to sort out her feelings, and he’d give her as long as it took.

Details about Marcus finally appeared on his phone, along with an image. He scanned the information and then focused on the photograph taken from his Colorado driver’s license. Marcus was clean-shaven, with a thin mouth and a hooked nose. Blue eyes. A faint scar ran along the curve of his cheek. His dark hair was peppered with gray.

Tate tilted his head. Something about Marcus was familiar. He turned the phone to give Annie a better look. “Do you know him?”

She studied the image and then shook her head. “I’ve never seen him before.” She pressed a hand to her ribcage and breathed out. “Thank God. He’s not a member of my staff.”

“No.”

Tate scrolled down and read Jeb’s information. Luke hadn’t left out anything valuable, and he’d included a booking photo. Based on the date, it’d been taken on the same day Jeb was arrested. He looked intoxicated. His eyes were hooded, nearly closed. A thick beard obscured most of his face, and his dark hair was wild. He and Marcus shared the same hooked nose and pale skin tone.

Once again, something in Jeb’s face struck Tate as familiar. He stared at the image.

“What is it?” Annie asked, drawing close enough her shoulder brushed against his.

“I don’t know. Both Marcus and Jeb look familiar, but I can’t place why.” He tapped the phone, setting the images next to each other. The family resemblance was strong, even with Jeb’s overgrown beard.

“They look like Seth.” Annie’s tone carried a note of sadness. “It’s the nose. And Marcus has his chin and eyes.”

Maybe that was it. Still, Tate called Grady back using the satellite phone. “Any chance you or Luke could hunt down a more recent image of Jeb? This one is thirty years old.”

“Already working on it. Luke called the prison, told them it’s urgent, and they’re processing the request. We’re hoping to have it within the hour.” Grady breathed out. “Hold on, I’ve got another call.”

The line went quiet. Tate stole another sip from Annie’s coffee, and she made a show of pulling it away from him. He chuckled. She laid her head on his shoulder and studied the pictures of Marcus and Jeb. The small gesture tugged at his heartstrings.

Grady came back on the line. “Okay, that was the Alamosa PD. They went and knocked on Marcus’s door, but he didn’t answer. They talked to a few of the neighbors and were told Marcus went on an extended trip last week. You’ll never guess who he said he’s visiting.”

Tate glanced down at the photographs on his phone, his stomach constricting. “His father.”

“Bingo.”

TWENTY-TWO

Annie stared at the photos of Jeb and Marcus Morrison. Tate had sent the images to her phone before doing another perimeter check. He was right. They looked familiar, but no matter how much she studied the pictures, nothing came to her. Was it simply that they looked like Seth? Maybe, but the nagging feeling she was missing something wouldn’t abate.

Footsteps whispering over the tile caught her attention. She lifted her head to find Heather standing nearby. She was dressed in her pajamas, fuzzy slippers on her feet. She held a mug of hot cocoa, judging from the marshmallows swimming on the surface. Her eyes went to Annie’s phone, and she stepped closer. “Who are they?”

“Seth’s brother and his dad.” She tilted the phone so Heather could get a better look, and tapped on Marcus’s image. “Did you ever meet Marcus?”

“No, but Caleb mentioned you were looking into him. He said Marcus came around a while back, asking people about what happened at the bonfire.” Heather twisted a red curl around her finger. “Do you think Marcus killed Kayla?”

“We don’t know.” Annie clicked off her phone and placed a reassuring hand on the other woman’s shoulder. Tears glistened in Heather’s eyes. Brooke was right. Heather was taking Kayla’s death hard. The stress they were all under didn’t help. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No. It’s not your fault. I’m on edge.” She offered a weak smile, her attention sliding to the window behind Annie. “I wish this storm would end so we can all get out of here. I’m sorry to say this, Annie, but I don’t think I’ll ever visit your ranch again. Worst vacation ever.”