Texas Forever

by Janet Dailey

  Beau nodded. “Fine. I’ll do what I can to get Luke released. But the best way to clear him would be to find the real murderer.”

  “You can help us there, too,” Rose said. “For starters—show Beau the picture on your phone, Erin.”

  Erin already had the photo on display. She slid it across the table to Beau and told him where and how she’d come to take it. “Sky thinks it might belong to his cousin, a woman named Marie Fletcher.”

  “I remember her, all right,” Beau said. “Years ago she took a potshot at Jasper and almost killed him, but she was never arrested for it. Last I heard, she was doing time in Gatesville for armed robbery.”

  “We’re hoping you can call the warden and find out whether she’s still there,” Rose said.

  Beau finished his coffee. “I can do that. But even if she’s out, why would she set up an ambush and murder Will? She barely knew him.”

  “That’s a good question.” Erin rose and began clearing away the cups. “But she’s the only lead we have. What if she was being paid—you know, like a hit man?”

  “It’s possible. I’ll call the prison as soon as the office is open. If she’s still behind bars, we can throw out that theory. For now, I wouldn’t mind a shower and a change of clothes. Then, as soon as it’s light out, I want a look at the crime scene.” He stood, stretching his arms and flexing his back.

  “One more thing before you disappear, Beau,” Rose said. “I’ve talked with Luke. He strikes me as a fine man—and certainly not a murderer. Anything you can do to help clear him will earn my gratitude as well as Erin’s.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Beau walked out of the kitchen, picked up the suitcase he’d left in the dining room, and carried it down the hallway. Watching him go, Erin felt the dark weight of doubt. Beau’s line of work—dealing with drug traffickers—would make anyone cynical. He’d seen the worst side of humanity, and he’d learned to expect the worst of people. What if he hadn’t believed her when she’d told him Luke was innocent? What if he was so intent on justice that his real focus would be on proving Luke’s guilt?

  Leaving Rose in the house, she went outside to help with morning chores. No matter what danger or tragedy hung over the ranch, there were still animals needing food and water, barns that needed cleaning, and cattle that needed to be rounded up and culled for early market. Sky would see that the work ran smoothly. And his wife would see that the routine bills were paid and the ranch books were kept up to date. But Erin knew that the big decisions would be up to her. The Rimrock was her responsibility now. She would have to use what she’d learned, from Will, from Jasper and Sky, and even from her grandfather, to run it like a Tyler.

  By the time the chores were done, Beau had come outside. He beckoned to Erin and to Sky, who was helping out before joining the hands on the high pasture. “I made that call to Gatesville Prison,” he told them. “Marie Fletcher was paroled early on good behavior three weeks ago.”

  “Good behavior?” Sky shook his head. “That doesn’t sound like the Marie I know.”

  “There’s more,” Beau said. “It seems she’s AWOL. She was supposed to stay in the area and report to her parole officer every week to start with. The warden says she hasn’t shown up once, which means she’s most likely on the run.”

  “Did you tell him we’d seen signs of her?”

  “Not yet. I wanted to talk to you first. If she’s here, what do you think she wants? Revenge?”

  “Against me or Lauren, maybe. But not against Will. That doesn’t make sense—unless, as Erin suggested, somebody was paying her for a hit.”

  “What about Stella?” Even saying the name gave Erin cold chills. Being kidnapped by Stella Rawlins had been the most terrifying experience of her life—and it was her father who’d come to her rescue. Would that give Stella reason enough to want Will dead?

  “I didn’t think to ask the warden about Stella. But she was sentenced to life without parole. Unless she escapes, she’ll die behind bars. But even if she wanted a hit on Will, where would she get money? And how would she get it to Marie on the outside? There’s got to be a simpler explanation.” Beau glanced at his watch. “By the time I get to town, the sheriff should be in. I’ll find out as much as I can.”

  “And try to bring Luke back,” Erin said. “If he hasn’t been arrested, they can only hold him twenty-four hours—isn’t that the way the law works?”

  “As far as I know. We’ll see.” Beau’s answer was noncommittal. Erin understood. If he had any doubts about Luke’s innocence, Beau wouldn’t want him on the ranch—or anywhere around her.

  “If there’s any news worth reporting, I’ll call you,” he said, and strode to his car. As he drove away, Erin’s lips formed a word of silent prayer.

  Please . . .

  * * *

  As he drove into town, Beau couldn’t help observing that no matter how many times he left, Blanco Springs always seemed to call him back. He never wanted to live here again. Neither did Natalie, whose memories of the town, and her abusive first marriage, were far worse than his own. They both liked their suburban DC lifestyle, with its manicured neighborhoods, good private schools, and world-class cultural events. But every time he came back here, he came home—to the simple houses with their rusty old trucks and dead-grass yards; to the Blue Coyote, the Burger Shack, and the one-show movie house; to the rancher’s son and high school track star he would never be again. Whether he liked it or not, Blanco Springs, like the Rimrock, was in his blood.

  The sheriff’s office and the jail were part of a sprawling, brick complex that also housed the court and shared city and county offices. At this early hour Beau had expected the place to be quiet. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

  There was an air of frenetic activity about the place. The tan county vehicles were parked out front, and the city constable’s black and white car was just pulling up, along with the ambulance that was used to transport bodies to the morgue. Beau had no idea what was going on until he walked in the front door and almost collided with the bulky form of Sheriff Cyrus Harger.

  “Beau.” The sheriff didn’t offer a handshake. “I’m sorry, you’ve come at a bad time. One of my deputies, Roy Porter, was murdered last night. He took a call about a break-in at the Blue Coyote. This morning, a neighbor walking his dog spotted him dead at the top of the back stairs. Hell, he was just a kid. But he loved bein’ a cop.” Harger wiped his eyes. “No trace of the sonofabitch who killed him, but we’re thinking it might be the same low-down skunk who shot your brother. Bullet wound looks a lot the same.”

  “I’m sorry.” Beau shook his head. Only in Blanco County would a rookie cop be allowed to answer a call without backup. But that wasn’t why he was here. “So does that mean you’re letting Luke Maddox go?” he asked.

  “For now. But he’s still a person of interest. He’s been warned to stay close. I guess he can go back to the Rimrock if you’ll have him.”

  “If it’ll make you feel any better, you can release him to my custody,” Beau said.

  “Oh, that’s right. You’re one of those federal cops. FBI, right?”

  “DEA. While I’m here, I want to ask about my brother’s remains. How soon—?”

  “Ask me in a couple of days. Things are crazy right now.” The sheriff turned away and rushed outside to meet the TV news van that had just swung into the parking lot.

  Beau walked back down the hall to find Luke at the counter, getting his personal things back. He looked red-eyed, rumpled, and unshaven after spending the night in lockup. The two men acknowledged each other with curt nods. “Are you all right, Maddox?” Beau asked.

  “For now. I’m getting the keys to my rig back, but they’re keeping the pistol for evidence. I guess that means I’m still a suspect.”

  “You’ve been discharged to me,” Beau said. “You can stay at the Rimrock, wherever you were bunking before. You can even go back to work if Erin wants to let you. She’s the boss now.”

  “Fi
ne. And thanks.” Luke wasn’t smiling. “You won’t have any trouble from me.”

  “I wasn’t expecting any. Where’s your rig?”

  “Out back. I’ll see you at the ranch.”

  Beau was waiting for Luke to assure him that he wouldn’t simply take the keys and run. But that assurance didn’t come. Evidently, Luke Maddox considered his word to be enough. Beau found himself respecting, if not liking, the man for that.

  Beau drove out of town. At the junction with the highway, he glanced in his rearview mirror. He could see Luke’s pickup and trailer following a few blocks behind him.

  Was this the man who’d planned Will’s murder and carried it out in cold blood? So far, he wasn’t acting like it. But for all Beau knew, he could be putting on a front. Now he was bringing Luke home to Erin, who was clearly in love with him. If he turned out to be the murderer, her tender young heart would be shattered forever.

  “So help me God, Luke Maddox.” Beau addressed the oath to the man driving the truck behind him. “If I find out you killed my brother and destroyed my niece, I’ll do anything to bring you to justice—even if I have to kill you myself!”

  * * *

  Marie wiped the pistol clean and dropped it into a deep, narrow ravine that was little more than a crack in the rust-hued earth. She hated losing a good weapon, but she couldn’t risk being caught with a gun that could link her to the shooting of the young deputy. That unlucky accident would buy her a one-way ticket to death row.

  She’d known he was dead as soon as she reached him and saw the bleeding hole where his heart would be. The poor, dumb kid hadn’t even been wearing a flak vest. He should’ve known better, Marie had told herself as she stepped carefully around the pooling blood. For an instant she’d been tempted to take the 9mm Glock that had fallen from his hand, or to rifle his wallet for much needed cash. But that would’ve been stupid. Resisting the urge, she’d swung over the railing, dropped to the shadowed gravel surface below the outside stairs, scuffed out any tracks, and made what she hoped was a clean getaway.

  Now, in the vermin-infested shack that served as her hideout, Marie weighed her options. She had no gun, nor did she have enough cash to buy another weapon on the street. She could steal one, but that might be too risky. Maybe she should just cut her losses and head for the border. At least she’d be alive and free.

  But being rich in Mexico meant having access to anything she wanted. Being poor in Mexico—along with being foreign, alone, and ugly—was no better than being dead.

  She’d had some setbacks, but it was too soon to give up. After the break-in and the shooting, the Blue Coyote would be under close watch. But maybe the drugs weren’t there after all. Maybe Stella had hidden them somewhere else. Or maybe she’d need some kind of password, to let Abner know that she had Stella’s permission to search.

  She wouldn’t know for sure until she’d carried out and reported the hit on Erin Tyler. Even though the gun was gone, there were plenty of other ways to get rid of the girl.

  It was time for Plan B, whatever that was.

  * * *

  Just after making the turnoff to the Rimrock, Beau pulled off the gravel lane and stopped his rental car. Driving behind him, Luke could see the yellow crime scene tape ahead. This, then, was the place where Will Tyler had been ambushed and shot.

  Stopping a few feet behind Beau, Luke climbed down from the cab of his truck. Beau hadn’t asked him to get out, but he wasn’t about to wait for an invitation. If any vital piece of evidence could clear him, he wanted to make sure it hadn’t been missed.

  Beau was already out of the car, standing next to the yellow tape but not trying to cross it. He made no objection when Luke came up beside him. The two men stood in silence for a moment, gazing at the flattened grass where Will’s body had fallen.

  “Did the sheriff happen to mention whether they’d found the bullet?” Beau asked. “I was hoping he’d tell me, but he was too busy for questions.”

  “I’m guessing they didn’t. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have let me out until they’d run ballistics to compare it with my gun. I was hoping they could do that. It would go a long way toward clearing me.”

  “That’s your only gun?”

  “Yes, and it’s legal.” Luke’s gaze swept the open rangeland, dotted with scrub and carpeted with parched, yellow grass. The graveled lane was bordered on both sides by a shallow bar ditch. To the east, perhaps a half mile off, lay the house and outbuildings of the syndicate-owned ranch that had once belonged to the Prescott family. A red-tailed hawk, circling overhead, was the only thing moving in the cloudless sky. “Where do you think the shooter was?” he asked.

  “Somewhere beyond the left side of the road, I’d guess, since Will was hit climbing out of his truck to move that tire,” Beau said. “They’d need some cover—but that patch of mesquite out there would’ve worked, and it’s close enough. The shooter would’ve needed a pickup to haul that big tire and dump it in the road. Then he would’ve had to hide the pickup, come back, and wait for Will. Lord, can you imagine the cold planning that must’ve taken?”

  Luke wondered whether Beau was trying to make him squirm with those words. But he could hardly blame the man for being bitter and suspicious. Will had been Beau’s brother, and though he’d heard that the two weren’t on good terms, the lifelong bond between them would still run deep.

  “I’m guessing the sheriff took the tire,” he said.

  “Yes, and Will’s pickup, too,” Beau responded. “The investigation team will go through every inch of that truck. If the bullet’s there, they’ll find it. Let’s go. I called Erin to let her know we’d be coming.”

  Beau climbed back into his car. Luke drove behind him, his thoughts churning. Beau had phoned Erin, so she’d know he was coming back to the ranch. Beyond that, he had no idea what to expect from her. Would she be cold? Angry? Would she defend him, or maybe even attack him?

  He tried to tell himself it wouldn’t matter if things had changed between them. But he was lying to himself. Erin mattered. She mattered more than anything in his wretched, solitary life. And now he’d probably lost her for good.

  His eyes searched for her as he drove into the yard, but she was nowhere to be seen. Only Rose was waiting, alone, on the porch. Beau parked below the steps and went into the house. Rose followed him.

  Luke drove past the house, parked his rig at the side of the duplex. He’d left the place unlocked, with the key on the kitchenette counter. Hopefully, he’d find things unchanged. He could carry his duffel bag inside, clean up, grab a beer if the fridge hadn’t been emptied, and maybe catch some sleep before facing the afternoon—and Erin.

  She hadn’t come out to meet him or even been waiting on the porch to see him arrive. Not a good sign. But if she hated him for leaving, or because she thought he’d killed her father, or maybe both, he couldn’t blame her. She was in pain—and some of that pain was his fault.

  His duffel was behind the front seat. Slinging the strap over one shoulder, he climbed out of the cab, locked the truck, and mounted the steps to the front porch. The doorknob turned in his hand—at least he wouldn’t have to ask for the key. And after a night in jail, this place would feel like a five-star hotel.

  He pushed the door open, stepped inside, and dropped the duffel on the overstuffed chair. The window blinds were closed, veiling the rooms in shadow. As his sun-dazzled eyes adjusted to the dimness, Luke became aware that he wasn’t alone. Braced for anything, he walked into the bedroom.

  Erin was sitting on the side of the bed. Without a word, she stood and walked toward him.

  “Erin—” He couldn’t read her emotions. “Erin, I’m so sorry.” He knew that the words were meaningless. Nothing he said could touch what she must be feeling now.

  Standing close, she met his gaze. He saw the tears in her eyes. “Don’t talk,” she said. “Just hold me.”

  He drew her against his chest, cradling her in the circle of his arms. She breathed in tiny sobs of r
elief, her body trembling like a frightened child’s. His lips brushed her hair, kissed her forehead, kissed the tears from her closed eyes. The tenderness that stirred in him was like no force he’d ever known. He would give his life to protect this woman—even if it meant having to protect her from himself.

  “If you hadn’t come back, I don’t know what I’d have done,” she murmured.

  “You’d have carried on,” he said. “You’re strong, Erin. That’s just one of the things I love about you. But we need to talk. There are things you need to understand. Sit down.”

  He eased her away from him, lowering himself to sit beside her. The temptation to stretch out on the bed with her lying in his arms was almost too strong to resist. But he knew where that would lead, and he didn’t trust his self-control.

  “You know I’m not the one who killed your father, don’t you?” he asked her.

  “I never thought you were. Not for a moment.”

  “Listen to me, then,” he said. “I’m still a person of interest. The sheriff let me go, but only because he was dealing with another murder that happened while I was locked up. There’s still plenty of circumstantial evidence against me—and there’s one more thing, something I haven’t told you.”

  Her blue eyes were steady and trusting as she waited for him to go on.

  “Three years ago, I punched a man who was beating his horse with a whip. I tried to stop him, but when he wouldn’t quit, I hit him hard enough to break his jaw. That one punch cost me six months in jail on an assault charge. I’d do the same thing again. But having a violent crime on my record is one more strike against me. I could be arrested and charged anytime, Erin. I won’t have that hanging over you and me. Until I’m cleared we can’t be together.”

  She laid a hand on his arm. “I love you, Luke. And I’ll fight to prove that you’re innocent. But what if the worst happens? What if this time, now, while you’re here, is all we’ll ever have? I don’t want to waste a minute.”

  Lord, she was so young, so unaware of how easily lives could be ruined. Loving him could destroy her. How could he make her understand that?