Texas Forever (The Tylers of Texas 6)

Now she was out on parole, planning to slip across the border and start a new life in Mexico. But for that she was going to need money—and getting that money, along with the right business connections, depended on her carrying out a mission of revenge.

Marie had nothing personal against Erin Tyler. But Stella Rawlins did. And Stella held the key to everything Marie wanted.

Stella and Marie had a long history. In Blanco Springs, back when Stella had owned the Blue Coyote, they’d gone from being partners in crime to bitter enemies. When they’d reconnected in Gatesville, where Stella had been sentenced for kidnapping and murder, they’d circled each other like a couple of hissing cats before deciding to join forces once more. It had been a good idea. Together, they’d become powerful and feared in the complex social structure of prison life.

Stella would never leave Gatesville. She was serving a life sentence with no parole. She also suffered from emphysema and diabetes. Wheezing and overweight, she would almost certainly die in prison. But there was one thing Stella wanted—revenge on the young kidnapping victim whose testimony had put her behind bars.

Even now, remembering what Stella had said, Marie could almost hear her rasping voice. “If it wasn’t for that little Tyler bitch, I’d be free and living high. When you get out, Marie, I want you to find her and make her pay. I don’t care how you kill her. Just do it, so I can die happy.”

“So, what’s in it for me?” Marie had asked.

Stella had smiled, showing a missing front tooth. “Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered. When I left Blanco Springs, I left a stash of heroin—solid bricks, at least a half million dollars’ worth—as a sort of insurance policy. Nobody knows where it is but me. Bring me proof that the girl’s dead, and I’ll tell you where that stash is. Not only that, I’ll tell you how to contact my friend Don Ramón, in Mexico. He can shelter you and set you up fine.”

Agreeing to kill the girl had been an easy decision. Marie had killed before. She killed coldly and efficiently, without a twinge of regret. Killing the girl would be no problem. But the last thing she wanted was to end up back in prison for murder. However the young Miss Tyler was to die, it couldn’t be traced back to Marie. Ideally it would look like an accident.

Much like the real accident that had killed the old man.

His death hadn’t been part of Marie’s plan. In fact it hadn’t even been her fault. She’d encountered the old man on the trail by pure chance. His startled expression told her he’d recognized her from years ago, which meant she’d be smart to kill him. But before she could act, he’d gone rigid and run the ATV off the rim of the wash. When she’d climbed down there, she’d found him dead.

Since there was nothing she could have done, even if she’d wanted to, she’d picked up his loaded pistol from the ground, picked his pockets with a handkerchief covering her fingers, and left the scene.

She examined the .38 now, hefting its weight and checking the cylinder. She’d needed a gun, and this one had almost fallen into her lap. She could use the $360 cash she’d found in his wallet, too. Sometimes she got lucky. Too bad she hadn’t had better luck with the girl.

If Erin Tyler had ventured out here alone today, arranging an “accident” for her would have been easy. Unfortunately, she’d brought along that dangerous-looking man. But never mind. With patience and careful planning, sooner or later, another chance would come.

As the pair mounted up and rode away, Marie settled back into the shade to think. Her fingertip stroked the ugly scar on the left side of her face. Running from her temple to the corner of her mouth, it was a lasting souvenir from the abusive husband she’d left years ago, back in Oklahoma. If she could kill the girl and sell Stella’s drug stash, she should be able to pay for plastic surgery in Mexico. That would be a dream come true.

But to do this right, she would need to know more about Erin Tyler—where she liked to go, what vehicle she drove, where and when she was most likely to be alone. Once she knew those things, she could make a plan and set her trap.

Stella would have her revenge, and Marie would be free.

CHAPTER EIGHT

AFTER A TWENTY-MINUTE RIDE, LUKE AND ERIN CAME WITHIN SIGHT of the ranch yard. Even in the blazing heat, Luke could see that Erin was shivering beneath her perspiration-soaked shirt. Someone was stalking the ranch—a sinister stranger who had no good reason to be here. And she was too proud to admit that she was scared.

“You should tell your father about this,” Luke said.

“Not yet.” Luke could sense her resistance as she answered. “It would just add to the strain he’s under.”

“And Sky? Maybe he could help.”

“Sky works for my dad. He’d feel obligated to tell him. For now I can handle this by myself. Nobody else knows about it but you—and you promised not to tell, right?”

“Right.” Luke was beginning to regret that promise, but if nothing else, he was a man of his word.

“At least I’ve got a photo of the boot print on my phone,” she said. “I’ll take it to the sheriff’s office tomorrow. When I tell them about the missing gun, they’ll have to listen to me. I’ll even take that box of his personal effects, in case the sheriff needs to dust them for prints.”

She eyed him, cocking her head. “Why are you looking at me like that? Do you think I’ve been watching too many crime shows on TV?”

“No. But I think you’re being foolish. This isn’t a game, Erin. We know somebody’s out there. If that person killed your friend, you could be in danger, too, especially if you get too close. Don’t do this alone. Bring in the troops—that includes Sky and your father. The whole ranch needs to be on alert.”

“Not until I’ve talked to the sheriff. Otherwise, who’s going to believe me?”

“I believe you.” He hesitated, deciding to be honest. “At least I believe what we saw.”

“See?” Her chin came up in a defiant thrust. “Even you have your doubts. You think I’m just a silly girl, overreacting from grief. Fine. Think what you want to.”

She nudged her palomino to a gallop that carried her well ahead of him, toward the barns. Luke muttered a curse. The stallion would be all right. The barns weren’t far, and they’d both been careful not to exert the horses in the heat. But Erin’s headstrong recklessness made him want to grip her shoulders and shake some sense into her.