She looked at him, and Mason could almost tell what she was thinking. Yes, it would be a problem, but the alternative was worse. Just because Ace was out of commission, it didn’t mean his boss wouldn’t just hire someone else.
“I can stay here,” she said to the marshal, but she gave Mason a questioning stare.
He shrugged. Then nodded. Which, of course, made it seem as if he were indifferent or opposed. He wasn’t. He wanted Abbie safe, especially because the photo to the P.I. had likely been the trigger that had put her in danger.
“Will Boone Ryland be relocating with you?” the marshal asked her.
“Yes.” She dodged Mason’s gaze. “In fact, he could be Ferguson’s target now. Ace Chapman called right before he attacked, and he wanted Boone to surrender to him.”
“Any idea why?” McKinney asked.
“No, but I’m hoping we’ll find out.”
“Vernon Ferguson is in town,” Mason informed McKinney. “Either my brother or I will question him again, maybe put some pressure on him.”
“I doubt he’ll crack,” the marshal said. “But it won’t hurt to try.”
No, it wouldn’t. Well, it wouldn’t as long as Mason could keep Ferguson far away from Abbie.
Mason ended the call and looked down at her. “I need to take you back to the ranch.”
She didn’t argue, not exactly. “I have to talk to Boone first.”
Of course she did. Mason stepped aside and had her go ahead of him, but he also followed her to the front reception area where Boone was standing and looking out the broken glass door.
“You’re leaving?” Boone turned and immediately asked her.
Abbie nodded. “Marshal McKinney is making arrangements for us, but in the meantime I’ll be at the ranch. I just wanted to make sure you were headed someplace safe.”
“I am,” he promised. Boone shut the partially shattered door, hooked his arm around her and brushed a kiss on her forehead. Yet another fatherly gesture that had Mason’s blood boiling.
Boone must have noticed Mason’s reaction because he eased away from Abbie. Mason’s temper cooled, and he reminded himself that Abbie needed a fatherly shoulder right now. Still, that didn’t mean he was going to play nice when it came to Boone.
“You’ll keep her safe?” Boone asked.
That pushed Mason’s ornery button. Of course, anything Boone said was likely to do that. “Yeah, but not because you’re asking.” In case Boone had forgotten, Mason tapped the badge on his belt.
And Mason cursed himself.
Because Abbie saw the badge tap, and she looked as if he’d slugged her. Great. That kiss, the hugs and dirty thoughts were bleeding over into the job. And that could be a massive mistake.
“When things settle down,” Boone said, “I’d like to visit your mother’s grave.”
“No.” And Mason didn’t hesitate. “The cemetery’s too close to the ranch, and I don’t want you there.”
“I could use the back way and come up from the other end of the creek,” Boone offered. “None of you would have to see me.”
“But we’d know. Besides, it’s in bad taste to visit a woman you helped put in the grave.” Mason snapped toward Abbie. “Ready?” It wasn’t a suggestion.
However, before she could answer or move, Boone spoke. “We need to talk. Not about the cemetery or ranch. I’ll stay away like you want. But we need to talk.”
Mason was about to say they had nothing to discuss, but there he was again, letting personal stuff get in the way. Truth was, they might have something to talk about.
“You’re sure you don’t know Ace Chapman?” Mason asked. Yeah, he’d already asked something similar, but he hadn’t like the answer he’d gotten then.
Boone looked him straight in the eye. “I never met him in my life.” He paused. “But there are some things I need to tell you and your brothers.”
Mason held up his hand. “We’re not taking a trip down memory lane here.”
Boone blew out a long, weary breath. “We have to,” he insisted. “I need to tell you what happened twenty years ago that caused me to leave.”
“No,” Mason said through clenched teeth. “None of us want to hear it.”
“You need to hear it,” Boone calmly said. “Because what happened then could be the reason Ace Chapman just tried to kill us.”
* * *
ABBIE FROZE AND MENTALLY repeated what Boone had just said. “The attack is related to something you did?” she asked, praying the answer would be no.
But Boone didn’t say no. He tipped his head to the hall. “Why don’t we take this into Grayson’s office?”
Her attention darted to Mason, to see how he was reacting to all of this, and he was just as shocked as she was. Except his was mixed with anger.
Mason aimed his index finger at Boone. “This better not be some trick to get us to listen to your sob story.”
“It’s not,” Boone assured him, and he walked past them toward Grayson’s office.
Mason and she followed. “You know what this is about?” Mason asked her.
“Don’t have a clue.” But Abbie hoped it didn’t make things worse.
Boone went into Grayson’s office, and Grayson looked at his brother first. “He said he’s got something to say about Ace Chapman,” Mason snarled.
Grayson’s mouth tightened, and he ended his call and slipped his phone back in his pocket. “Then say it fast,” Grayson ordered. “Because I’m busy.”
Despite that hurry-up tone, Boone took his time answering. “Twenty-one years ago your granddaddy Chet started investigating Ford Herrington. Ford wasn’t a senator then. He owned a couple of successful businesses in the county, and Chet thought Ford was involved in an illegal land deal to expand one of those businesses.”
“Old news,” Mason snarled. “I studied Ford’s file, and I know all about that deal. There’s no proof that Ford was personally involved. That’s why neither Chet nor anybody else ever arrested him.”
“The night he was killed, Chet went out to the Herrington estate to question Ford’s wife, Sandra.” Boone continued as if he hadn’t heard Mason.
“We know that Granddaddy Chet had an affair with Sandra,” Grayson interrupted. “Ford admitted that right before he killed himself.”
“Ford was wrong,” Boone said. That grabbed Abbie’s attention and created a heavy silence in the room. “Chet wasn’t having an affair with Sandra,” Boone continued. “I was.”
Abbie was sure she blinked. Until a month ago she hadn’t even realized that Boone had known the late senator, so this was the first she was hearing about Herrington’s wife.
“You had an affair?” Mason demanded. But it wasn’t just a simple question. No, it was laced with suspicion and anger. Especially the anger.
Boone nodded. “It didn’t last long, and it was a huge mistake. By the time Chet showed up that night, Sandra and I were already ending things.”
The silence returned, and the brothers exchanged glances. “Mom knew?” Grayson asked.
“I don’t think so.” Boone cursed under his breath. “Chet didn’t know, not until that night when he found Sandra and me together.”
Abbie went closer. “What happened?”
Again, Boone took his time answering. “Chet was furious. Understandable. I was cheating on his daughter—”
“And you had six kids at home,” Mason snapped.
“Yes,” Boone acknowledged. Staring at Mason. “Like I said, it was a bad mistake. And it got worse.” He paused. “Ford showed up at his house, too, while I still there, and he was suspicious. He said he knew that Sandra was having an affair, and rather than let Ford go to your mother and tell her, Chet lied and told Ford that he was the one who’d been seeing Sandra.”
“Granddaddy Chet lied to protect you?” Mason pressed.
“And to protect your mother,” Boone verified. “Ford was furious and out of control. He said he’d kill Sandra and make it look like an accident or suicide.
”
Mason cursed, and his brother wasn’t far behind with the profanity. “You didn’t bother to tell anyone this?” Grayson snarled.
“There wasn’t time.” Boone wearily dragged his hands over his face. “Chet told me to leave, and I did. Because I was stupid and thought he could handle things. I went to a bar, got drunk, and when I was leaving to go home two of Ford’s bodyguards grabbed me and took me to a storage warehouse in San Antonio.”
Abbie looked at Mason to see if he’d known any of this. Judging from his stunned expression, the answer was no.
“That same day Chet was gunned down in what was supposedly a botched robbery attempt,” Boone went on. “And then Sandra drowned in the creek.” His gaze came to Mason’s again. “Neither was an accident. Ford either had them killed or he did it himself.”
Mason opened his mouth, closed it. It took him several moments to speak. “You kept this to yourself?”
“I couldn’t tell anyone,” Boone insisted.
Mason huffed and aimed a scowl at his father. Abbie wanted to intercede; she wanted to do something to defuse the tension, but she didn’t know where to start. She’d known Boone was troubled after the senator’s suicide, and this might be the reason. Well, at least the beginning of the reason.
“You said Ford’s bodyguards took you to a warehouse,” she said to get the conversation moving again. “What did Ford do to you?”
“Everything,” Boone whispered, and he repeated it. “Ford came to me and gave me an order to leave town.”
“Why didn’t he just kill you like he did the others?” Grayson fired back.
“Because I told him I’d recorded the conversation in which he threatened to kill Sandra and make it look like an accident. I didn’t. It was a lie. A bluff,” Boone corrected. “And that’s when Ford threatened to kill one of you. I couldn’t let that happen.”
Abbie pulled in her breath. Even though this had happened over twenty years ago, she could still hear the pain, fresh and raw, in Boone’s voice. However, she could also see that same pain in Grayson’s and Mason’s faces.
“So you worked out some kind of blood deal with Ford?” Grayson asked.
“I guess you could call it that. It benefited Ford, that’s for sure. He said he’d let all of you live if I left town and the tape recording never surfaced.”
Abbie’s stomach dropped.
But Mason’s reaction was less extreme. He gave Boone a flat look. “Again, why didn’t you tell anybody this?”
“Because I didn’t want any of you to die.”
“Someone did die,” Grayson pointed out. “Our mother committed suicide because you left.”
“Your mother had battled depression most of her life.” Boone mumbled something else that Abbie didn’t catch. “And Ford pushed her over the edge by telling her about the affair. I didn’t know that until after the fact. Ford paid me a visit and gloated about how she’d fallen apart when he told her that I’d slept with Sandra.”
Oh, mercy. The color drained from Mason’s face. Grayson didn’t fare much better. He turned, dropped down into the chair behind his desk and buried his face in his hands.
Despite his pain, Mason faced Boone head-on. “How did Ford find out his wife had the affair with you and not with Granddaddy Chet?”
“Sandra told him right before he killed her. That’s when Ford realized he’d murdered the wrong man.”
Their grandfather had died for no reason. Well, no reason other than letting Ford believe he was sleeping with Sandra Herrington.
“If you’d told someone sooner, we could have caught Ford,” Mason insisted. “And you wouldn’t have put the family through hell and back.”
“I tried to catch him.” Boone leaned against the wall and let it support him. “I tried for years, but Ford was too smart for me. He never left a trace of himself behind.”
“Until he committed suicide,” Abbie mumbled. She gave that some thought and shook her head. “I saw you reading the newspapers about the suicide, but you didn’t seem relieved.”
“I wasn’t,” Boone admitted.
That caused Mason to huff. “I guess because you no longer had a reason to stay gone.”
“No.” Boone looked away. “Because I had an even bigger reason to stay gone.”
Abbie was certain she’d misheard Boone. “What do you mean?”
But Boone didn’t get a chance to answer. That’s because the bell over the front door jangled, and after the shooting, everyone was clearly on edge. Both Mason and Grayson drew their guns, and Boone stepped in front of her—just as Mason tried to do the same. They ended up colliding shoulders, causing Mason to shoot his father a glare.
Grayson stepped out in the hall, his attention locked on the front. And he cursed. “What are you doing here?” he asked, and it wasn’t a friendly question.
“I heard you had some trouble,” the visitor said.
Abbie groaned because she recognized that voice—Vernon Ferguson.
“Stay put,” Mason warned her.
But he didn’t and neither did Grayson and Boone. They all waltzed out of the room to deal with the man after her. Well, Abbie was tired of hiding out and letting them fight her battles. Tired of what this was doing to the Rylands. So despite the warning, she stepped out as well, and Ferguson snagged her gaze right away.
He gave her an oily smile. “Abbie, I’d hoped to run into to you today.”
“Did you figure I’d be dead?” she fired back, earning her a first-class glare from all the Ryland males. She returned the look and elbowed her way past them to face Ferguson.
“Dead?” Ferguson made a tsk-tsk sound. “I hear an accusation coming on.” He made a sweeping motion toward the bullet-riddled glass. “I suppose now you’re going to ask me if I hired the person to do this?”
“You bet I am,” Abbie answered.
“Abbie,” Mason warned again. “You shouldn’t be doing this.”
“We all do a lot of things we shouldn’t do.” And she aimed that at Boone for keeping secrets all these years. Yes, he had a good reason for keeping things quiet—so he could protect his sons—but they wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for his affair with a married woman.
“I’m sure you already know the hit man’s name is Ace Chapman,” Abbie supplied to Ferguson. Mason caught onto her to keep her from going closer, but she threw off his grip. “So did you hire him?”
“Of course not.” His light, off-the-cuff tone didn’t help her suddenly surly mood.
“You’re a coward, you know that? You get people to fight your fight.” Abbie didn’t wait for him to respond. “My mother wasn’t a coward. She stood up to you and testified against you.”
Ferguson’s eyes narrowed, and Mason stepped directly in front of her, cutting off her view of the reaction she’d caused in the weasel who’d tormented her for most of her life.
“And look where that got your mother,” Ferguson calmly said.
Nothing could have held her back at that point. Nothing. Abbie came out from behind Mason and rushed around the counterlike desk that divided the entrance from the rest of the building. She made it to Ferguson with Mason right on her heels and with Boone moving in from the side, and it was Mason who stepped between them at the last second. Boone grabbed Ferguson.
“It’s time for you to leave,” Mason told the man while he used his brute strength to keep Abbie behind him.
Ferguson stared them both down. “Of course.” There wasn’t even a touch of emotion in his voice. “But I’m not the threat here.” Ferguson threw off Boone’s grip. “He is.”
Abbie quit struggling to get past Mason, and she looked at Boone, waiting for him to deny it.
But he didn’t.
Mason obviously noticed the lack of denial, too, because he stared at his father. “What’s he talking about?”
“Tell them,” Ferguson taunted. “Tell them that the reason Abbie was nearly killed was because of you.”
Again, Boone didn’t deny it, an
d that robbed Abbie of her breath.
“I told you the truth about that deal I cut with Ford,” Boone finally said. He let that hang in the air for several seconds. “But I didn’t tell you that Ford promised he would reach out from the grave to ensure I never came back to Silver Creek.”
Ferguson smiled again. “What Boone is fumbling to say is that Ford left instructions to have him—and all the rest of you—murdered.”
Chapter Ten
Mason hadn’t thought this investigation could get any crazier, but he’d been wrong. Abbie clearly thought the same because she just stood there with a stunned look on her face. The only one who wasn’t gob smacked was Ferguson, and he was enjoying this way too much.
Mason did something about that.
“You’re leaving now,” Mason ordered the snake who’d just delivered the latest bombshell, and he moved closer to let Ferguson know he would be tossed out if he didn’t obey. Mason wanted details of this beyond-the-grave mess, and he didn’t want to discuss anything else in front of the man who’d tried to kill Abbie.
Well, Ferguson was probably the one who’d hired Ace to kill her.
However, after this latest revelation, Mason had to rethink that. Boone certainly wasn’t jumping to say that Ferguson’s claims weren’t true.
Ferguson gave them an exaggerated wave, another of those blasted smiles, and he walked out.
“Start talking,” Grayson demanded the moment Ferguson was out of earshot. He had his narrowed eyes aimed at Boone, and Mason made sure his glare let Boone know that he would explain everything.
Boone nodded and gave a heavy sigh. “All those years ago when Ford threatened to kill you and your brothers, I told him that I’d kill him first. He laughed and said it was already too late for that, if he didn’t call off his goons within the next ten minutes that at least two of you would be gunned down.”
That required Mason to take a deep breath. All of his brothers had been young then, especially Gage and Kade. Heck, they’d been barely eleven and twelve. Just kids. The idea of a hired gun killing them tore at him hard.
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