“Good. Alex is wrapping up his paperwork, then he plans on heading back to Wilde. He’ll be on the road in ten minutes or less. He’s anxious to get back to Shelby.”
“What about you?” he asked his dad.
“I’m going to stay close to Byrd. I’ll keep you informed.”
“Dad, you’re an officer of the law now. Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“Shelby’s innocent. You and I both know that, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Byrd is guilty as hell of a lot of things. You haven’t told me where you are, so I don’t know. No law broken, right?”
“Right.”
“You’re my son. We talk on the phone every day about what is happening in our life.”
“I get you, Pop.”
“Keep her safe, son.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Do better than your best. Make it happen. Shelby must be absolved of all of this crap. Whoever shot Lucille needs to be found before it’s too late.”
“We’ll prove her innocence, Pop. I swear it.”
* * * *
Justin came around to the back of Trixie’s little house. He’d knocked on her front door until his fist ached. Her car was still in the driveway. The only friend in the world to Trixie was Lucille. She might be hiding inside, unsure who was pounding on her door at this hour.
He was about to walk up her stairs to the back porch when he caught a glimpse of something by Trixie’s woodpile. He turned and saw the woman he’d come to talk to, lying facedown in the dirt. He ran up to her, placed his hands on her neck to check for a pulse. Nothing. He tilted her head to see if she was breathing. Again, nothing.
He rolled her over onto her back, thinking he would give her CPR when he saw that half her head had been blown off by a gun. He retched at the sight of poor Trixie. Lying right beside her was a pistol. This was Elko County. Byrd’s county. Justin needed to know who the owner of the gun was before he called this in to the dispatcher in town. How? It wasn’t like Nevadans used label makers to identify their weapons.
He peered down at the pistol and felt his head start to pound.
Shelby had told him about her gun that first day back at the Wilde Silver Mine offices. She’d said that she never let her grandmother’s pistol out of her house. Ever.
He gazed at the murder weapon that had taken Trixie’s life and likely the same one that had been used on Lucille. Though the handle was splattered with blood, he could tell it was either the twin of Shelby’s gu
n or it was one and the same.
It had a pearl handle.
Fuck! This is a fucking disaster.
Justin got his cell out and called Brandon. After he told his brother everything, then he would call 911.
Chapter Twelve
“What did Justin say?” Shelby asked Brandon as he clicked off his cell. His kiss had given her hope, but the current grim look on his face after talking to Justin made her heart tighten in her chest. “Did he find Trixie?”
“I’m afraid it’s very bad news, sweetheart.” Brandon put his arms around her and pulled her into his massive frame.
The news had to be really bad. “Spill it. Please. Don’t leave me guessing.”
“Trixie is dead.”