A hero! What a joke! Stella grinned as she took another sip of expensive bourbon. It wasn’t often that fate played into her hands. That it had happened today was a cause for celebration. But she wasn’t finished, not by a long shot. First thing tomorrow she would call Abner and make sure he took advantage of every chance to give the Tylers more trouble.
She could only hope Will’s trial would go as well as the barn fire had. She could hardly wait to see Nicky’s killer behind bars.
* * *
It was 1:15 a.m. when Sheriff Abner Sweeney parked behind the county vehicle lot, procured the keys to the department’s tow truck, and drove it out of the gate. Twenty-five minutes later, he crossed the boundary of the Rimrock and switched off his headlights. With the November moon just bright enough to show the road, he drove to the bungalow where his daughter had lived.
Ralph’s old pickup was still parked outside. It took only a few minutes for Abner to hitch the rear axle to the tow truck, pull out of the driveway and onto the road. What he was doing was illegal as hell and could cost him his job. But as he’d told himself all the way here, this was for the greater good. This was for his daughter and his grandson.
After he’d found the money in the truck, it hadn’t taken long for the truth to fall into place. That kind of cash could only have come from one source—the person who hated Will Tyler enough to burn down his barn. She would have needed to pay someone to do the job, someone who worked for the Rimrock and had access to the place. That someone had been Ralph.
The money, mostly new bills, was evidence. It would likely have Stella’s prints on it. Here, at last, was something that could link her to a crime.
His duty as sheriff demanded that he follow through and arrest the woman. But arresting Stella could expose the quid pro quo favors she and Abner had done for each other over the years. Worse, it would implicate Ralph, who was being lauded as the hero who’d given his life to rescue the Tylers’ horses.
Ralph’s baby boy could grow up as the son of a hero or the son of a criminal. The end result could make all the difference in his young life. That difference, here and now, was up to Abner.
Still driving by moonlight, Abner turned the tow truck onto a rutted side road that ended two miles later at a shallow, raw dirt gully, strewn with trash and the remains of before-hunting target practices. After unhitching Ralph’s truck, he used the tow truck to push it into the gulley. The rusty old vehicle rolled down the slope and settled into place, right side up, amid the clutter of old bedsprings, empty beer cans, and ancient TVs with their screens shot out.
Abner took the canister of black spray paint he’d brought along and used it to decorate the doors and windows of the truck with known teenage gang symbols. The cash was still inside, stuffed under the driver’s seat, where he’d found it. He’d deliberated long and hard about keeping it. The money could go a long way toward helping Vonda raise her son. But the bills had likely come from drug deals. If Stella, who had eyes and ears everywhere, decided to track it down and get it back, his whole family would be in danger.
Battling regret, he backed the tow truck to a safe distance, took a heavy gasoline can out of the bed, hiked down into the gully, and doused the old rustbucket, inside and out. Sooner or later, word would get around that Ralph’s truck had been stolen and burned. When Stella got the news, she would assume, rightly, that the money was gone.
As he climbed back up the slope, Abner poured a thin trail of gasoline behind him. Standing at the gully’s edge, he lit the trail with a match and took off at a run. The truck, money and all, exploded in a giant whoosh of flame behind him.
Abner hung around long enough to make sure the fire wasn’t going to spread. Then he drove back to town, replaced the tow truck, tossed the paint canister in a handy Dumpster, and went home to his family.
CHAPTER 15
True to his word, Will was at the hospital by eight o’clock the next morning. He found Sky sitting up in bed, drinking a protein shake through a straw, with an oxygen tube clipped to his nose.
“You look like hell,” Will said, taking a seat next to the bed.
“I feel like hell.” Sky managed a grin. Even so, he didn’t look as bad as Will had feared. Where the soaked bandanna had covered his nose and the lower part of his face, there were only a few minor burns. His ears and upper head had suffered worse, his hands, wrapped in special water gel bandages, the worst of all. But the real damage, Will knew, would be from the smoke in his lungs. Sky could be a long time regaining his health.
“Dare I ask how things are on the home front?” Sky’s eyes, though slightly glazed from pain medication, had recovered some of their old spark. “I take it the barn’s a total loss. Do you think the insurance will cover it?”
“Some, but not all. The devil of it is, we’ve had three fires this year—the machine shed last spring, the wildfire, and now this! What if the insurance company cancels our policy?” Will shifted the chair closer to Sky’s bed. “And the timing’s a bitch with winter coming on. We’re already salvaging material from the barn to set up storm shelters in the paddock. But by the time supplies come in for the new barn, even with all the hands working, it’ll take weeks to get the basics up. They’re cowboys, not builders. Beau’s been calling around to get construction bids, but with money so tight . . .” He shook his head. “Sorry to burden you with this, Sky. It’s a royal mess.”
“I’ve got a pretty good crew working to finish my house. Take them. They can show your cowboys what to do.”
“But I thought you and Lauren wanted the house done before Christmas, for your wedding.”
“We did. But since we’ll be putting the wedding off until I’m in better shape, the house can wait. The outside’s weather-tight. It’ll be fine.”
“That would be a huge help,” Will said. “Are you sure it’s all right with Lauren?”
“We already talked about it. In fact, lending you the workers was her idea.” Sky glanced around as the bathroom door opened and Lauren stepped out.
“Should my ears be burning?” She was making an effort to smile, but she looked totally wrung-out, as if she’d spent the night awake, sitting up in her clothes and worrying, which she probably had.
“Take this woman home, Will,” Sky said. “She hasn’t stopped fussing over me since she got here, and she was terrorizing the poor nurses all night. She needs to get some
sleep and come back later—if they’ll let her in.”
“I was just making sure you got the attention you needed. Like now—for heaven’s sake, you’re out of ice.” Lauren refilled his water glass from a pitcher on the tray. Sky managed a comic eye-roll.
Will chuckled. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave here without her. And thanks for looking after him, Lauren. I was worried about leaving him, myself, but I knew he was in good hands.”