by June Faver
The cowbell clanked again, and the sheriff strode into Breck’s office. His brows drew together when he saw Levi. “Levi, you aren’t causing any more trouble, are you?” He glanced from Levi to Breck and back again.
“Not today,” Levi said. “I come to make amends. I was a crazy man yesterday. I’m havin’ the glass repaired too.”
The sheriff’s stern gaze returned to Breck. “Is this all right with you, or do you want to press charges?”
Breck glanced at Misty. “I guess there was no real harm done. Just stay out of my office unless you see my truck outside. I don’t want you scaring Miss Dalton again under any circumstances.”
Levi nodded. “Agreed. Again, I apologize to you and to Miss Dalton.”
Misty felt a little better but thought she should get back to her desk. She started to rise, but Breck stayed her with a hand gesture.
“Sheriff, this is the weapon you came for.” He indicated the gun in the T-shirt on his desk.
The sheriff stepped forward. “Hmm…a Colt .45. It looks like an old one.”
Levi pointed at the weapon. “It can’t be…but it looks just like the one my daddy used to own. He left it to my older brother, Jed.”
“Really?” The sheriff glanced at him.
All three men bent over the gun. The sheriff picked up Breck’s polished-brass letter opener and gently pried the cloth away. The fabric was an old, faded T-shirt, and it was covered with rust, but the gun didn’t appear to have rust on it. The sheriff gingerly lifted the shirt, holding it between thumb and forefinger.
“Damnation! That there is my daddy’s gun,” Levi said. “See, right there. Those are his initials carved on the handle. V. E. B., Victor Elijah Blair.” His fierce brows drew together, and his eyes locked with Breck’s. “Where did you get this? It belongs in my family.” He reached toward it, but the sheriff stopped him.
“Right now, it’s going to be checked for fingerprints and other evidence. If it belongs to you, it will be returned to you.”
Misty was glad no one mentioned that it had been found among her brother’s things. She didn’t want to be the object of Levi Blair’s scrutiny again. But she needn’t have worried. Levi’s attention was fixed elsewhere.
“Where are them photos you have of the boys?” he demanded.
Breck fisted his hands at his waist. “They’re right where you left them on the table in back. Why?”
Levi didn’t answer but instead strode out of the office, his boots clomping to the table along the back wall. He returned immediately, clutching two of the photographs. “Y’see right here. This’n with Eddie holdin’ that there gun. He must have taken it from his father.”
Misty stared in horror, realizing the weapon appeared to be the same.
“And this here photo of Nate and Eddie wrestlin’…” Levi placed the second image atop the other. “Y’see? That’s the shirt Eddie was wearin’ in this here photo. It’s the same.”
All eyes fastened on the shirt in the photograph. The screen-printed image on the front was an old concert icon from a country singer’s tour.
The sheriff carefully raised the T-shirt, still in his hand. He lifted it by the shoulders, holding it up for all to see.
It dawned on Misty that the rusty-looking stain on the shirt was probably blood. Her stomach did a tumble and roll, and she pressed her lips together to keep from crying out.
“What’s going on here, Sheriff?” Levi demanded. “That’s my nephew’s shirt, and this is my daddy’s gun. Just tell me what happened.”
The sheriff cleared his throat. “Wish I could, Levi.” He released a huff of air. “I think I need to be talking to your nephew Eddie and the other two boys he runs with.”
A muscle spasm twitched Levi’s jaw. “Not if I find them first.”
“Now, Levi,” Breck began, “don’t do anything foolish. You need to let the sheriff do his job. Don’t go taking the law into your own hands.”
Levi tore his gaze away from the bloodstained T-shirt. His eyes reflected all the pain tormenting his soul. “Me?” His voice was smooth as syrup. “I wouldn’t think of it.” He nodded to Misty and stormed out of the office. Moments later they heard the cowbell clank against the glass in the front door.
“There’s going to be trouble,” Breck said.
* * *
Colton sat astride his favorite horse. Ostensibly, he and Beau were riding out with Big Jim to check on the cattle. In reality, nowadays they mostly did this in one of their trucks or in the Jeep 4x4 kept for going overland. Today’s ride was all about the Garrett men being together. When all three boys were younger, Big Jim had led this ritual, performing it at least weekly if the weather was good. When the weather was bad, the boys had been bundled up and rode in the cab of the truck. The goal was always the same: “Check on the stock.”
Big Jim rode just a bit ahead. He always liked to be in the lead, and his sons catered to his wishes.
Colton thought this ride was all about the available Garrett men spending time together. After his announcement last night, he sensed his father needed time to be able to accept Colt’s engagement to Misty.
He was halfway expecting to receive a verbal beatdown from Big Jim, but Beau’s presence reassured him that it wasn’t in the cards. If his dad had something to say to him, he would have done so privately.
No, this was all about Big Jim spending time with his sons and, in some way, atoning for his negative attitude.
“So, have you and Misty set a date?” Big Jim’s tone was easy, but Colt suspected he was holding his breath.
“Not yet, Dad.” Colton chuckled. “I just ambushed the poor girl with my proposal last night. I’m going to take her into Amarillo to choose a ring on Saturday. She can be engaged for a little while.”
A look of relief crossed Big Jim’s face.
“Dad…I’m going to marry her.”
Big Jim sighed. “I know. I’m just glad it doesn’t have to be one of those hurry-up things.”
Colt drew up on his reins. “What? You thought I got Misty pregnant? Dad, I wouldn’t be that irresponsible. First things first.”
Big Jim drew up on his horse too and raised his brow. “Well, what am I supposed to think? You’re in such a danged rush. Slow down. Take it easy.”
Beau kept riding. He glanced back, shook his head, and kneed his horse to a faster gait.
“Dad, I’m happy. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? I’m really happy.”
Big Jim leaned over and placed his hand on top of Colt’s. “Trust me, Son. That’s all I care about. Is this the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with?”
Colton gazed into his father’s eyes and gave himself a mental ten-count before trusting himself to speak. “Yes. I want to grow old with Misty Dalton by my side.”
Big Jim heaved a sigh. “Then that’s good enough for me. This is the last time I’ll question your judgment. If you’re that sure, then you have my blessing.” He released Colt’s hand and gave him a grin. “Now, let’s catch up to that rascal brother of yours.” He slapped his heels against his horse’s flanks and took off, leaving Colt to stare after him.
Colton shook his head, let out a chuckle, and followed after his father.
Chapter 17
When Misty stepped outside the office, she was more than a little anxious. A feeling of dread had been building in her gut the entire afternoon. She had half expected Levi Blair to return, throw open the door, and lambaste her about the gun and T-shirt.
Misty tried to understand his point of view. Certainly, in his position she would have been insane with grief… Well, maybe he had the insane part down pat.
Her hands shook as she tried to separate the keys and force the right one into the lock. She felt exposed and vulnerable.
Glancing around, she didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. A few vehicles crui
sed by on the street, and a few were parked, but the only car in front of the law office was the one belonging to Leah. She squared her shoulders and managed to get the key into the lock, twisting it to secure the office.
Expelling a huge sigh, she turned to the car, waving when she spotted Sara Beth closing up her shop. The baby was safeguarded in an all-purpose carrier and car seat. Sara Beth finished locking up her place of business and picked up the carrier, looping it over her arm. She gave a hearty wave to Misty and strode purposefully to the pickup truck where her fiancé, Frank, stood waiting by the passenger door.
Misty watched as Frank gave Sara Beth a kiss on the cheek and took the carrier from her. He secured the baby and then held out his hand to assist Sara Beth up into the truck.
Misty smiled, glad her friend had someone nice in her life and even more grateful that she had Colton Garrett in hers. She climbed into the car and fastened her seat belt before starting the motor. It was always a relief when the old car roared to life. True, it was a little loud, and it started with a rough idle, but soon enough it settled into a lesser growl as she pulled away from the curb.
Heading for the highway, she felt the dread give way to anticipation. Soon, she would be in the arms of her own fiancé. She knew Colton would be waiting for her to return to the ranch. Maybe they would talk about the wedding. He had indicated he didn’t want a long engagement. But how long was that?
“Misty Garrett,” she said aloud. “Misty Dalton Garrett. Mrs. Colton Garrett.” She realized she was grinning like an idiot. Just driving along, thinking about Colt and grinning bigger than Dallas.
She wondered if they would get married in church, or would they just go to the justice of the peace? No, she felt certain the Garretts would expect a church wedding.
Sudden tears sprang to her eyes. Who would give her away? Oh, poor Daddy. He would have been so proud to walk me down the aisle.
She was lost in thought when she glimpsed another vehicle in her rearview mirror, and it was coming up fast. No matter. There weren’t any other cars on this particular stretch of highway, so whoever it was would have plenty of room to pass. Just to make sure, she pulled to the right as much as possible so the driver could see she was driving at the posted speed limit and he could go right around her if he felt the need for speed.
It was a pickup truck, and sure enough, the driver swerved as if to pass, but when he drew up alongside, he slowed down to match her speed.
When she looked, she recognized Eddie Simmons in his truck. He glared at her and then jerked the steering wheel to ram his truck into the side of her car.
Misty’s steering wheel jerked violently, spinning out of control, sending the vehicle veering sharply off to the side. Like a slow-motion nightmare, the vehicle plowed through brush and weeds and into the ditch.
With a sickening lurch, the old car went airborne before sliding to a soft landing on the passenger side.
The impact wrenched Misty from one side to the other, as though the car had been picked up by a giant hand and violently shaken from side to side. Now, she was suspended by her seat belt, her hands gripping the wheel and her heart throbbing against her ribs like a captive trying to break free.
She released a ragged breath, watching as the dust floated forward, swirled, and settled. Her ears were still ringing from the crescendo of metal on metal.
A sound escaped her throat, something like a kitten’s mew.
Oh no! She’d had a wreck in Leah’s car. How would she ever be able to pay? Insurance? Was there insurance?
Her thoughts were jumbled, rushing one on top of the other to crowd her brain and muddle her judgment.
The sound of someone pounding on the side of the car caused her to focus.
“Get outta there!”
Slowly she turned her neck to stare at Eddie Simmons. He was standing on the driver’s-side door panel of the overturned vehicle.
“Come on. Get out!” He grasped the door handle and wrenched it open.
She felt vaguely relieved. Here was someone to help her. Eddie…Joe’s friend.
* * *
Misty was late getting home.
Colton had been pacing back and forth between the kitchen and the front room, where he would peer out the window to check if she was pulling into the drive.
“I swear, you’re going to wear a hole in the carpet, Son.” Big Jim eyed him in passing.
“I know,” Colton said. “There’s just so much going on. I hope she didn’t decide to go over to her ranch for some reason. I should have insisted she come here straightaway.”
There was a snort from Big Jim. “Son, they don’t mind us. They’re women.”
Colton turned, frowning. “What?”
His father shook his head. “You really are worried, aren’t you?”
“You’re damned right!” Colt exploded. “With everything that’s happened, I have every reason to be worried.”
Big Jim held up his hands. “I didn’t say otherwise. Just calm down.”
Colton released a deep breath. “I don’t think I can. She should be here by now.”
“Did you try calling her?”
“Yes, but it just goes straight to message.” Colt gritted his back teeth together. He was pretty sure she would answer the phone if she could. She wouldn’t worry him needlessly.
“If you think it will help, we can drive back toward town and see if she’s had car trouble. I know Leah’s old clunker concerns you.” Big Jim got to his feet and felt around in his pocket for his keys.
“Aw…you don’t have to go, Dad. I can drive myself.”
Big Jim fixed him with a cool gaze. “I’m not sure you’re focused enough to be driving. You’ve got to have a clear head to get behind the wheel.”
Colton returned the stare. “I’m fine. I’ll just take a drive back toward town to make sure she’s okay. I’m not distracted.”
Big Jim’s expression said all too clearly that he thought otherwise. “Call me if there’s anything I can do.”
Colton knew what a big concession this was coming from his father. “Thanks, Dad. I’m just going to see if I can backtrack a little. I’ll probably meet up with her on the way.”
“Hope so,” Big Jim said tersely.
Colton lost no time in driving back to the highway. Once he was out of sight of the house, he tromped a little heavier on the gas pedal. Turning onto the highway, his anxiety grew with each mile. It was getting darker, and still no sign of Misty.
His throat closed in fear as, up ahead, he saw red and blue lights flashing. He eased his foot off the gas as he slowed his truck.
Two Texas Highway Patrol cars were pulled off the road, and an officer was waving him by with a flare. His gut clenched as he recognized Leah’s car on its side in the ditch.
Throwing the truck into park, he killed the motor and jumped out. He ran across the highway, his heart beating a staccato rhythm. He recalled all too well the incident with Misty’s brother, Joe.
“Get back in your vehicle, sir,” the patrolman ordered. “There’s nothing to see here.”
“My—my fiancée was driving this car tonight.”
The officer shone his flashlight in Colton’s face. “There was no one in the car, sir.”
Colton sensed there was something the officer wasn’t saying. “Please tell me. There’s been a lot of trouble lately. Her brother was murdered.”
The officer’s mouth tightened. “It appears someone ran this vehicle off the road.” He turned the beam of the flashlight toward the car. “And there are boot prints where someone climbed on top of the vehicle. There is no blood, but considering the evidence, we’re treating this as an abduction.”
His words settled heavily on Colton, prickling the back of his neck like ice. An abduction?
He had no doubt that whoever was responsible was the same person or pe
rsons who murdered Joe and Fred Hamilton and gave Paco a beating. Now the murdering scumbag had his hands on Misty.
Colton felt totally impotent. He had no idea which way to turn. His mouth was dry, and when his cell rang, he fumbled to retrieve it from his shirt pocket. “Misty?”
“Sorry, Son,” Big Jim said. “You didn’t find her?”
“No,” he croaked. “The car… Leah’s car…” He swallowed hard. “Someone ran her off the road and then abducted her. The Highway Patrol is here.”
Big Jim uttered a curse. “The sheriff called here at the house. He said he had picked up one of Eddie Simmons’s running buddies and he’s singing like a canary.”
“Eddie Simmons?”
“The Diaz boy told the sheriff that Eddie shot Nate Blair some years ago and that Joe Dalton helped him dispose of the body.”
Colton walked toward his truck and opened the door. He had no idea where he was going, but he couldn’t stay there. Climbing inside, he slammed the door. “So Joe was in on it?”
“Not the murder, but he did take part in the cover-up. The Diaz boy said Joe and Eddie had a falling-out recently over money and that Eddie shot Joe. Diaz has been laying low because he didn’t want to get involved any deeper than he already was.”
“It was Eddie Simmons?” An image of the wiry, red-faced kid formed in Colton’s mind. “He’s the one who must have run Misty off the road. He’s got her.” It was all starting to come together, but Colton still couldn’t see why Misty would be taken. Surely Eddie didn’t think she knew anything about his actions. Why would he kidnap her? Why would he run her off the road? Was he trying to destroy all things Dalton?
“Are you there, Colt?” Big Jim’s voice was etched with concern.
“Yeah, Dad. I think I should drive to the Dalton place just in case he took her there.”
“I’ll meet you there.” Big Jim disconnected.
Colton reached to start the motor but was aware the Highway Patrolman had come to stand outside the truck. He lowered the window. “Yes, Officer?”
“Sir, I need your information and information on the person who was driving the car.”
