by B. J Daniels
“Drugs and medical supplies were stolen. That same night a man was killed behind a bar and a pickup truck was set on fire near there. We also had a break-in at a house not far from the bar. A handgun was taken.”
That sounded like her man. McCall made a note to see if Sharon Turnquist could get her the serial number on her husband’s pickup. “What about the murdered man’s car?”
“Missing.” He rattled off the make and model and license plate number.
McCall was betting that RJ was now driving it.
After she hung up with the Billings police, she phoned the rest of the numbers that RJ had called. A few of the people who’d talked to him either hadn’t come in yet for their shifts or had the day off. She asked for their numbers and tracked them down.
“Sure, I remember talking to him,” the young male clerk at one of the motels told her. “He was trying to find his girlfriend. They’d gotten into a fight and she took off with some other guy. The guy did have a great car though. It was one of those Cadillacs with—”
“What kind of information did you give him?” McCall interrupted.
“Pretty much the same as the other guy—directions to the Winchester Ranch.”
“The other guy?”
“The cowboy driving the Cadillac convertible. He was getting gas at Packy’s the same time I was.”
“Was he traveling alone?”
The clerk laughed. “The second guy asked me the same thing. I told him about the woman I saw with the cowboy. Didn’t match the description he gave me of her, but he sounded like she was the one he was looking for.”
Didn’t match the description? “What did the woman look like?”
“Pretty with short, curly, dark hair.”
The same way her grandmother had described Jack’s wife, Josey.
Josey. Josephine. The moment McCall hung up, she dialed her grandmother’s number at the ranch. The phone rang and rang. Her grandmother didn’t have voice mail, but she had an old answering machine. When it didn’t pick up, McCall realized there could be only one reason why.
The phone line was out.
In the middle of winter it wouldn’t have been unusual for the phone line to be down. But this time of year?
It seemed odd. RJ could have reached the ranch by now, but would he cut the phone cord in broad daylight? It was more likely he would watch the place and hit it tonight.
Without cell phone service anywhere near the ranch, there was no way to reach her grandmother to warn her.
McCall feared it was too late to warn any of them as she jumped in her patrol car and, lights and siren blaring, headed for the Winchester Ranch.
RJ SHOULDN’T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED to find no spare tire in the trunk. He pulled out the tire iron and beat the trunk lid until it looked like the craters on the moon. He felt a little bit better after that.
Back in the car, he downed a half-dozen pills, then drove until there was no rubber left on the tire and the rim buried itself in a rut. The car wasn’t going any farther, he thought with a curse, then realized it was blocking the road to the ranch. With an embankment on one side and a ravine on the other, no one would be coming down this road tonight.
He studied the directions he’d been given under the dome light. If he was right, he could cut off some of the distance by going across country. He drank the last of the twelve-pack he’d bought in Billings. It was hot and tasted like crap, but he didn’t want to get dehydrated and it helped the buzz he had going.
There was just enough gas left in the can in the trunk to soak the front seat pretty good. He lit the car and, taking the map, dropped off the side of the road and headed what he believed was southwest. The night was cloudy, but earlier he’d seen the moon coming up in the east.
He heard the whoosh as the car caught fire, and he was glad there wasn’t much gas in the tank. Even if the car did explode, though, he doubted the sound would carry clear to the ranch. He’d hate for them to have even an inkling of what was coming.
As he topped a rise, he realized he couldn’t be that far from the ranch. Pleased that maybe things were turning out as they were supposed to for once, he counted the minutes before he’d see his stepsister again.
IT HAD GOTTEN DARK out. All Josey wanted to do was finish the story so Jack would understand why she had to get out of there. It was getting later, and the breeze coming in through the French doors was almost cold. She feared another storm was brewing on the horizon, and she worried about the road out of the ranch if there was a thunderstorm. She’d heard Enid say that when it rained here, parts of the road became impassible.
“When Celeste heard that we were going to camp, it was the last straw,” she said. “We’d been eating fast food for thirty hours, sleeping in the car, and Celeste was ready for the good life RJ had been promising her. Also, he’d been popping a lot of pills so he could keep driving straight through, and he was acting oddly. When we reached the camp, RJ cut me free of the duct tape and tied me to a tree with part of the rope he’d brought along. I thought I might stand a chance since the rope was much less restricting than the tape.
“That night he and Celeste got into a huge argument. RJ demanded she give back the engagement ring. Celeste went ballistic and started hitting him. He grabbed her and tried to take the ring off her finger. The next thing, she was screaming that he’d broken her finger, howling with pain. He hit her and she went down.”
Josey stepped to the open French doors to look out into the darkness for a moment, hugging herself against the cold, against the thought of RJ and what he was capable of. “He’d been playing with the extra rope he’d brought. But it wasn’t until then that I saw he’d fashioned two lengths with nooses at the ends. RJ was saying something about Montana being the last of the old West. He tied one end of the rope to the bumper of the car, threw the other end over a limb near the water and looped the noose over Celeste’s neck and pulled it tight. He abused her all the time. It seemed to be their thing, but this was different. Then he came for me saying it was time to hang the bitches.”
She looked back at Jack and saw the pain and fury in his face before hurrying on. “I fought him, but he was too strong for me.”
“That’s how you got all the bruises.”
Josey nodded. “I must have passed out because when I woke up, RJ was in the car, the motor running and I was being dragged by my throat. Celeste had come to and she was screaming for him to stop. He kept going in the car until we were both hauled off our feet and were hanging from the tree limb. I remember gasping for breath. Then I heard this huge crack as the limb broke, and the next thing I knew I was falling. The moment my feet hit the ground, I tore the noose from my neck.
“I had seen where RJ had laid down the gun when he was hitting me. I ran for it. I grabbed the pistol and spun around. Celeste still had the noose around her neck, but she’d found RJ’s knife he’d used to cut the rope earlier. RJ saw her and hit the gas in the car. She sliced through the ropes before they went taut again.”
Josey closed the French doors and stepped back into the room, still hugging herself against the memory—and the cold fear. “RJ threw the car into Reverse and headed right for her. I had the gun in my hand. I fired, but missed him, hitting the car instead. I fired again. I heard him cry out. I’ll never forget the murderous look in his eye. Then he must have realized he was still in Reverse and headed for the river.
“It happened so fast. Celeste threw herself through the driver’s-side open window. They were struggling as the car crashed into the river. Celeste had RJ in a headlock. RJ was wounded and trying to fight her off. Neither seemed to notice or care that the car was sinking. I grabbed the backpack and ran, still holding the gun.
“When I finally did stop on a rise to look back, I didn’t see either of them. By then I’d realized that if I had any hope of getting my mother out of that awful place Ray Sr. had put her in, I couldn’t turn myself in. At least not before I wired the money to the facility I’d set up for her the n
ight I met Ray Sr. to pick up the money. Now all I have to do is make sure my mother is safe, then go to the police and—”
“RJ is still out there,” Jack broke in. “It’s going to be your word against his, and as you said, your fingerprints are on the murder weapon. If you turn yourself in, you’ll go to prison—and what will happen to your mother?”
“I hid her. He won’t be able to find her.” But even as she said the words, she knew her mother wouldn’t be safe.
“And what happens when this money you have runs out?”
Josey raked a hand through her hair. “Don’t you think these are the things I’ve been trying to figure out?”
“I know,” he said, taking her in his arms. “That’s why we need to figure them out together. I can finish what I came to do tonight and we can get out of here.”
She pulled back to look into his face. “Jack—”
“We’re in this together now. I just need you to trust me and stay in this room,” he said. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning. I know of a place we can go until we can make sure your mother was moved and is safe. Then—”
“You’re planning on going after RJ,” she said. The thought of Jack being in danger terrified her more than RJ coming after her alone. “No. I can’t let you do that.”
He cupped her shoulders in his hands. “We can talk about this later. I need to go. There is something I have to do. It’s from a promise I made a long time ago. I feel I have to do this. Stay here. I’ll try not to be long. Keep the door locked.” He touched her cheek, a tenderness warming his blue eyes. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Get packed and wait for me. I’ll hurry.”
IT WAS DARK when McCall came around the corner in her patrol SUV, and her headlights flashed on the burned vehicle in the middle of the road. She pulled up, grabbed her flashlight and got out, half hoping to find RJ’s body in the car.
Instead, she found footprints and tracked them a short distance in her flashlight beam. They were headed southeast toward the Winchester Ranch.
RJ had a good walk ahead of him. As she climbed back into her SUV, she could only hope he stumbled across a rattlesnake or broke his leg in a prairie dog hole. Backing up, she turned around and returned to the main road. Unlike RJ, she knew another way to get to the ranch that would be faster than walking. She considered calling for backup, but changed her mind. From the single set of footprints, RJ was alone. McCall figured he was after Josey Vanderliner, also known as Mrs. Jack Winchester.
The only thing McCall didn’t know was how her cousin Jack fit into this.
RJ LET OUT a low whistle under his breath when the saw the Winchester Ranch. It looked like a damned hotel. Who were these people?
With a sinking feeling, he realized he was screwed if all those rooms were full of people. He’d never be able to find Josey—let alone get her out of there. Even with the gun he’d stolen in Billings, he couldn’t take on everyone in the place.
He reminded himself he had no choice. Getting rid of Josey had become more than just something he needed to do to seal the deal on his father’s death. It had become personal, he thought, as he rubbed his shoulder. If it wasn’t for the pills he kept popping, he would be in horrible pain. As it was, his shoulder was a constant reminder of why he had to find Josey and finish this.
He moved down the hillside in the dark to the back of the massive log structure. Finding the main phone line coming in was child’s play, since the pole was right behind the house. There was even a yard light nearby, so he wouldn’t have to use the small penlight he’d brought.
But when he reached the spot where the phone line entered the house, he found that someone had already beat him to it. What the hell? The cord had definitely been cut. A sense of dread raced through his veins like ice water. Who would have done this?
Suddenly he wasn’t so sure about finishing this here. Maybe he should just cut his losses, steal one of the cars, take some back road across the Canadian border. But he knew he wasn’t going anywhere without money.
Still, this felt all wrong.
He moved around to the front of the place, staying in the shadows, the fine hairs on his neck standing on end. He came to a window with a light behind it and crouched down to listen.
He could hear a radio playing and someone banging around in the pots and pans and mumbling under her breath. He took a peek through the crack between the curtains. A small, elderly woman appeared to be cleaning up the kitchen in angry bursts.
RJ waited to see if anyone else showed up. When no one did, he moved along the edge of the house, staying to the dark shadow of the building.
He heard more voices, saw another lighted window, and eased forward. The window was open a crack, and he could hear two women talking.
“Give me a reason to stay here, Mother.”
“Virginia, you have to do whatever it is you need to do.”
“Can’t you just say you want me to stay? Is that so hard for you? Or say you want me to leave. If it doesn’t make any difference to you, that’s the same as telling me to leave.”
The older-sounding woman sighed deeply. “Why does everything with you have to be so dramatic? You’ve done nothing but complain since you got here. Why would you want to stay?”
RJ heard the younger one sniffle as if crying.
“Maybe I’d like to see my brothers and my nephews,” she said, sounding hurt. “When are they arriving?”
“I don’t know, Virginia. As you pointed out, they may not come to see me at all. I haven’t heard from them. Or the rest of my grandchildren.”
“I can’t believe they won’t.”
“Perhaps they are less worried about their inheritance than you are,” the older one said.
“You know, Mother, you deserve to die alone on this ranch with just Enid and Alfred here with you, both of them just waiting for you to breathe your last breath. I wouldn’t be surprised if they helped that along one day.”
He heard the scrape of a chair, then heavy footfalls and the slamming of a door. He listened but heard nothing more. Apparently, this place wasn’t full. So far he’d only seen an old lady. But the daughter had mentioned two others, apparently caretakers.
As he started to move, he heard another sound, this one coming from outside the house. He pressed himself against the side of the house and stared out into the darkness.
Someone moved in the distance. Someone who seemed to be sneaking along the outside of the building—just as he had been doing.
The person who’d cut the phone line?
He waited until he saw the figure disappear inside a door at the far end of a separate wing of this monstrous place.
RJ waited for a moment, then followed.
IT DIDN’T TAKE Josey long to pack after Jack left, since she’d already started it earlier. She checked, though, to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Then she checked the gun she’d stuffed in the top of the backpack. She had only four bullets left. She hoped she wouldn’t have to use them, but knew she would if they ran across RJ. As drugged up as he probably was, she wasn’t sure it would be enough to stop him. The thought of killing him made her shudder. But she wouldn’t let him hurt Jack, no matter what.
As she crossed in front of the French doors, she glanced out into the darkness, wondering where RJ was. Jack had said he wouldn’t be able to find them on this ranch so far from everything. But Jack didn’t know RJ.
Josey felt anxious, wishing Jack would hurry. They needed to get out of here, for their sakes and his grandmother’s and Virginia’s. She remembered Enid and Alfred. They seemed like they could take care of themselves.
She put the gun back into the top of the backpack and pulled the drawstring closed. Silently, she prayed that her mother had been moved to the new health-care facility and that RJ couldn’t get his hands on her. That would be Josey’s one weak spot, and RJ would capitalize on it if he thought of it.
With everything done, she turned out the lights and stepped to the wi
ndow. She knew where Jack had gone. What she still didn’t know was what was so important behind that rock wall. He’d said it was something he’d promised to do a long time ago. She knew Jack was the kind of man who stood by a promise no matter what.
What scared her was just that. He was risking his life and hers. So what was behind that rock wall? Hidden treasure? The famous Winchester fortune Jack had told her about?
No, she thought. Knowing Jack it was something much more important.
Standing on the balcony in the darkness and cold, Josey wondered when the exact moment was that she’d fallen in love with Jack Winchester. Had it been that first kiss in the Cadillac? Or when he held her while she cried on that high ridge during their horseback ride? Or was it when he’d taken her in his arms and carried her over to the bed? Sometime over the past few days she’d begun to realize she was no longer pretending. She felt like his wife.
With a start, Josey realized that she’d just seen something move along the edge of the far building—the same one Jack was in right now. It couldn’t be Jack. He’d left a long time ago. Unless something—or someone—had held him up.
She stared hard into the blackness at the edge of the building, fear gnawing at her insides. If not Jack, then—
Alfred. The old man was sneaking along the edge of the building. He must have seen Jack go into the closed wing earlier. Or suspected that’s where he was headed. What would Alfred do when he caught Jack opening that old rock wall? Why would he care?
She thought about the other night when Alfred had caught her in that wing. Had he gone back to make sure no one had tampered with the wall? Then that would mean he knew something had been hidden behind it.
Her heart began to pound.
What was he up to?
As he stepped to the edge of the far wing, the moon slipped from behind the clouds. Her skin went clammy, fear closing her throat, as she saw what Alfred gripped in his hands. An ax.
Chapter Thirteen
