Murphy's Law (The Bounty Hunter Series - Book 1)

by Laurie LeClair

  “You think they’re not going to finger you when people start asking questions about the sheriff?” Echo asked.

  “Not me, honey. You.”

  For a split second, Murphy stilled. “Now how are you going to do that?”

  “Get her to fire my gun. Gunpowder on her hand. Prints on the gun.” He shrugged. “No one’s ever gonna doubt it with the evidence piling up.”

  “Motivation?”

  “Why, the son-of-a-bitch is gonna be blamed on killing you.”

  “That means—”

  “You’re a liability.”

  “That’s what you say about all your bastard sons, isn’t it?”

  Beside him, Echo gasped. He didn’t have time to explain to her.

  Murphy stared at the man who’d knocked up his mother and left her high and dry ages ago. “How many you got now?”

  “Five, I reckon. Maybe some I don’t even know about. But none as much a pain in the ass as you.”

  “Why, thank you.” He forced himself to smile. It was tight and nearly cracked his face.

  “Smartass. You were always too damn of a goody two-shoes.”

  “You can thank my mama for that. She raised me.”

  His father snorted. “Pretty thing she was, but damn if she didn’t try to set me on the straight and narrow.”

  “Never could get you to cross over, could she?” It wasn’t so much as a question as it was a statement. “How many times you’ve been in jail? A dozen? More?” He nodded his head toward the barn. “And you’re bringing them into the family business?”

  “Brothers?” Echo asked. Her voice sounded weak, her body sagging in her seat.

  “Half, I guess you could say.”

  “They do as they’re told,” he snapped back. “Not like you. Murphy’s Law. That’s rich, son. You always did have an inflated sense of right.”

  “It’s worked for me.”

  “Not anymore.” His face hardened. “You working for the feds?”

  Murphy didn’t flinch. “What do you think?”

  “That’s how your friend answered right before I killed him, too.”

  His gut kicked. Two years ago, his friend, Jack, had tapped him for help. A bank heist. Drug dealers. And he needed Murphy to work undercover because Murphy’s older brother managed the targeted bank.

  Then the shit hit the fan.

  Too many people were dead.

  His friend died in his arms. His blood covered his hands, literally and figuratively.

  “You’re lucky I haven’t taken you out yet,” Murphy said between gritted teeth.

  “You’re a dead man, Murphy. Just a matter of time. That’s a promise, son.”

  Chapter 14

  Echo barely swallowed the last of the hard, tough jerky, never mind keeping everything down. This was Murphy’s father? Her son’s grandfather?

  It still stunned her to think Timmy was hers. Now she knew why day after day in the hospital Storm had placed the baby in her arms. Those times were meant for Echo and Timmy to bond. They’d lain like that for hours, cuddling close. He’d been the reason she fought hard to recover. Somewhere deep inside, she knew he needed her.

  She faced the man who would never be a part of her son’s life. A man who rode the wrong side of the law. Murphy’s Law. That’s what all Murphy’s sayings were about. His hard and fast rules for living. He’d turned away from this man and lived a life guided by his sense of justice. How could she have doubted Murphy? “There’s one thing you’re forgetting,” she said. “The gold.”

  “Torture works well.”

  She felt the blood drain from her face. “I’m not giving it up.” How could she when she didn’t even remember where it was?

  “You will, when we torture him. And he will when we do the same to you.”

  His evil smile sent chills down her spine.

  Murphy’s body stiffened beside hers. He didn’t outwardly react. But she knew his mind conjured up ways to kill his own father first.

  “Bastard,” she bit out.

  He scratched the side of his face. “Nope. My daddy and momma were married.”

  “Does she know?” Murphy asked, nodding to the flowers and then the rest of the kitchen. “Your new woman?”

  That wiped the smug look off the older man’s face. “You leave her out of this, Murphy.”

  “Hit home, did it?” Murphy baited.

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  “Then you know exactly what I’ll do for my woman.”

  His cold eyes looked from Murphy to Echo and back again. Echo sensed the shift in mood.

  “That’s right. I’ll take you out first. And, if I can’t, I take her out and then myself, before you ever get the chance.”

  Echo sucked in a sharp breath. He’d do it, too.

  ***

  The pulse in her temple throbbed wildly. Pain shafted like lightning bolts through her skull.

  There was no doubt Murphy would make good on his promise. She couldn’t hate him for that; she knew it was his way to protect her from the torture. For she had little doubt that the bastard would follow through on his threats. Hadn’t she just seen him kill a man in cold blood?

  “She’d do the same for me,” Murphy said.

  And there it was, out in the open. He’d just directed her to take him out, too, in the same situation. Could she?

  Now that she knew about Timmy, she wasn’t certain she could risk it. Or maybe she had everything to risk now.

  Echo leaned back in the chair, folding her arms over her chest. “Right about now, taking you both out sounds like a good idea.”

  “You are a bitch,” the older man said.

  “Yep. Proud of it, too.” She let that sink in.

  Murphy chuckled. “Let’s call a truce, shall we? I got an idea. You drive. We’ll direct you where the loot is.”

  “That’s it?” his father and Echo asked at the same time.

  “Hey, I didn’t say it was a good idea or even a complete idea. I just said I had an idea.”

  Echo groaned. The black edges crowded in her line of vision again. Whatever happened, she knew she had to rely on Murphy to help her. That rankled.

  “Really now?” a male voice asked from the doorway. He’d come out of nowhere.

  She may not be able to see him fully, but Echo heard a familiarity in that voice. Murphy stilled.

  “Hell, Murph, you’d screw your own brother out of his share?”

  ***

  “Jesus Christ,” Murphy mumbled, staring at the man standing in the kitchen doorway. The man’s frame matched what he knew, but the size didn’t. He’d lost weight. A lot of it. And the face. The features had to have been operated on. Plastic surgery?

  He didn’t look like the man he once knew. But the voice. That was the same. And the eyes. Those were the eyes of his dead brother’s.

  “Gerald?!” He felt Echo shift and grip his forearm. “You’re alive?” Shock crushed him. “You were dead. I ID’d you. The dental records matched.”“Payoffs,” he confessed. “The burnt body in the warehouse obviously wasn’t mine. Got a great sub, don’t you think? Some poor, homeless bastard fit me to a tee.”

  “How? Why?” Echo asked.

  Murphy zeroed in on her body next to his, her strength. He didn’t just want her. He needed her. And he hoped to hell she’d still be there for him once everything came out in the open.

  “You were in on it.” His mind raced. “When?”

  He slapped their father on the back. “Daddy here showed me the error of my ways. All that money, just sitting there. Now how the hell am I, a bank manager, ever going to make that kind of cash?”

  “When?”

  “I’m a chip off the old man’s block. I got to thinking I’m not a junior for nothing. Long hours wasted in that godforsaken place. People coming and going, cashing in and out. Daddy comes and asks for a loan. We got to talking.”

  Their father jabbed him in the shoulder. “You’re talking too much now. Shut the fuck up.”
/>
  “All right,” he said, and then nodded to Murphy. “So, little bro, you got our dough?”

  ***

  Less than an hour later, Murphy sat in the back of another four door truck with Echo by his side. His brother rode up front in the passenger seat while his father drove. His henchmen, Murphy’s half-brothers, followed in their own truck not far behind.

  “Where now?”

  “Colorado,” Murphy said in a dull, flat voice.

  “Hey.” His brother twisted around, saying, “You always liked that place.”

  Murphy still couldn’t fathom it. His own brother, the one his mother took in and raised as her own after his mother mysteriously died, double-crossed him. Gerald played and stayed dead for years now. “It wasn’t a home invasion. Or a kidnapping. You were a part of it from the beginning.”

  “I always knew you’d eventually figure that one out.” The face, so unlike what he’d known, captured his attention. He’d had a whole lift; even his eye shape had changed. His nose. He had a chin implant. Even his lips were different shape. He studied all of it. “Like it? It cost a fortune, but it was the only way I could live under the radar. Got accounts set up for the dealers. They like having me around, if you know what I mean.” He shrugged and turned away, apparently not liking the close scrutiny.

  “Did your wife know?” Echo asked with her head back and eyes closed. Her pale complexion clued Murphy into the fact she was fighting another round of motion sickness.

  He laughed. “You really can’t remember, can you? Echo, you knew before she eventually did.” He stuck his thumb in Murphy’s direction. “So did he.”

  Chapter 15

  Echo snapped her eyes open and sat up straight. She jerked her head around to look directly into Murphy’s green-eyed stare.

  He didn’t waver or blink.

  God, with her stomach twisted in knots, she could still be sucked into his brand of heat. Her body flared. She still wanted him. But, damn, what had he gotten her into?

  “It’s the truth,” he said.

  “You’re smart, too smart, for your own good, Echo,” Gerald said, pulling her gaze and attention away from Murphy.

  “And you talk too damn much, son,” his father said, sending him a warning glare.

  Gerald seemed to ignore the older man as he went on. “You suspected something. I guess you saw this little ol’ bank manager buying a big house, the Benz, the country-club life, traveling, pretty, sparkly things for the wifey. I couldn’t explain it away any longer on good investments when the market tanked.” He snorted. “I couldn’t even lie and say it was from the bank. How could a small town, border town bank manager get those kind of bonuses? Yeah, you figured it out.”

  “Me?”

  “Money laundering,” Murphy supplied. “You came to me to tell me your suspicions.”

  Jagged little pieces poked her memory. Doubts had crept in, she recalled. How could he afford so much? His sweet, naive wife, oblivious of it all, brushed it away. After all, Gerald was the numbers man.

  But other things rushed back, in broken slices. Murphy’s face when she’d suggested it. Was it guilt? Or denial? Now, she couldn’t sort it all out.

  How much did he know and when did he know it?

  “I’m going to be sick,” she said. She jabbed at the button and the window slid down. She stuck her head out, gulping in great, big lungfuls of air.

  Without a shadow of a doubt, she knew that her memories were unfolding in rapid succession the closer she allowed herself to face the cold, hard, ugly truth.

  ***

  Murphy grimaced as he exited the truck, dropping to the ground. It jarred him. But the blank look on Echo’s face and the more she withdrew from him tore him up inside.

  What did she remember?

  What did she suspect now?

  The small, hole-in-the-wall gas station sat in the hot sun in the middle of nowhere. It didn’t seem like anyone was around. He walked behind Echo into the dusty, cluttered interior. The musty smell and heat hit him like a ton of bricks.

  “Anybody here?” Gerald Sr. called out.

  No one answered.

  The henchmen piled in behind them, hooting, hollering and shoving each other.

  “Pipe down,” their father said. “Get you something to eat, take a leak, and we’re outta here.”

  Echo headed toward the little restroom sign. Murphy followed her.

  “Oh, no, you don’t. I’ll go with her.”

  “The hell you will.” Murphy almost snarled.

  “I’m checking it out first. No escaping through a window.”

  Damn, Murphy was thinking that very thing. There had to be a back way out of this place. Someone had to be here or near enough to get away in their car.

  He yanked open the door and jerked back fast. The smell hit all of them full force. “Good luck. There hasn’t been any ventilation in there in years.”

  Echo nearly gagged, but went in. Murphy stood guard at the partially opened door. “Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Through your mouth,” he advised.

  “God, this stinks. Why don’t girls get to pee standing up?” she asked.

  That brought a smile to his face. When she was done, she nudged him out of the way. “Your turn.”

  “Stand right here,” he said.

  “Afraid I’ll leave you?”

  “Look for a way out,” he said under his breath. “In the back.”

  She seemed to understand. Crossing her arms over her chest and drumming her fingers on her arms, she shot him a pointed look. “Well? Hurry up.”

  It was worse than he thought, but he quickly did his business. Before he left the restroom, he went to the door and asked her, “Anything?”

  “There’s light coming from somewhere high. A sliver of light. A partially covered window maybe.”

  “Great. We got nothing.”

  He came out and directed her to the front of the store. The guys were snagging up snacks, ripping the bags open, and began to munch on them.

  “This place got anything cold to drink?” Slim asked, searching for a cooler.

  “It looks about as dried-up as your momma,” the one in the cowboy hat joked, smacking him on the back of his head.

  “Shut the fuck up, will ya?”

  “Come on, little boy, you just itching for a fight. Have been now for hours stuck riding in that truck.”

  Murphy leaned close to Echo. “Something’s brewing. Stay close.”

  She took a side step to the old wooden counter, reaching out for something. His half-brothers’ voices rose higher, drawing his attention.

  They started to shove each other. “Take it back.”

  “Gonna make me? Come on, you know I can whoop your butt. Just make me.”

  “Settle down,” their father yelled. They didn’t listen to him.

  Fists started flying. One of them slammed the other into a shelf, knocking it over. Years of old vapor rub and bandages sailed through the air.

  “Quit it,” Gerald Jr. shouted. No one listened.

  Murphy inched closer to the door. He looked around for Echo. She was nowhere to be found.

  Chapter 16

  Echo didn’t know anything about trucks, but she did know a few things about vehicles in general. The cool open blade of the pocketknife she’d lifted from the peg near the cash register felt good in her hand.

  She scurried to the truck she’d ridden in and slid under it. The dirt ground scraped her back and arms, but she ignored it and went to work on the lines above her. Working fast, she sliced through them, scampered back out, and then rolled to her feet.

  Next, bent low, she raced to the driver’s side door of the second truck. Bingo, her guess was correct. The younger brothers had left the keys in the ignition. All she had to do was get behind the wheel and start it up.

  Scrambling in, she ducked so no one could see her. Turning the key, she heard an unmistakable voice asking her, “Going somewhere?”

  Her heart lurched into her throat.
“Jesus, Murphy, you scared the hell out of me.”

  “Move over.” He shoved her, none too gently, across the seat. He leapt in and fired the engine. He peeled out of the parking area, his door swinging shut with a loud bang.

  “They’re coming,” Echo said, looking out the back window through the dust he kicked up, and snapped the blade of the pocketknife shut. She shoved it in her front pocket.

  “Were you just going to leave me?” he asked between gritted teeth as he yanked the wheel. They bumped onto the main road and he floored it.

  “You know I wouldn’t have.” She snuck a quick glimpse at him. The muscle along his jaw jumped. She jerked back to the truck close on their tail.

  “Do I? Really, do I?”

  “For Christ’s sake, Murphy, do we have to go there right now?”

  “Just for the record, Echo, I never turned my back on you. Not once.”

  She gulped hard. His fierce declaration shafted through her. Another memory jolted her brain. The look on his face, so like it was right at this moment, came back to her. His gaze drilled into her.

  He’d warned her away. He’d said no.

  She persisted.

  “The gold,” she whispered.

  “Yep,” he said grimly.

  In the end, he’d gone along with her plan of stealing the gold right out from under the thieves’ noses.

  ***

  Murphy glanced at her. Her eyes fluttered. “Echo, stay with me,” he called. He jabbed at the button and the windows rolled down. Blasts of air rushed in. “Breathe.”

  “In. Out,” she said, recalling his instructions. She gulped in and let it out.

  The hit on the bumper jerked him around. Echo bounced forward. He shot out his hand to grab her arm, stopping her. He dragged her back. “Can you get the seat belt on?”

  He couldn’t tell if she nodded or her head jerked around. Relief shot through him when she yanked the seat belt around her and clicked it into place.

  “Murphy, yours,” she gasped out.

  The truck behind them banged into them again. Murphy held onto the wheel with a steely grip, keeping the vehicle on the road. He jammed his foot down and the truck leapt ahead.