Early that morning, she’d seen the two women take the dirt road north in the brown station wagon. About an hour later, Will Tyler’s pickup had headed toward the highway. Soon afterward, the farrier’s distinctive rig had pulled out of the yard and disappeared in the same direction. Around noon, the women had returned. And now this.
She lifted the binoculars to her eyes and fiddled with the adjustment. There was no way to get a good focus, but she could make out the sheriff’s big, tan SUV parked next to the porch, and the news van a few yards away. A reporter was interviewing a stocky man who was probably the sheriff, with a cameraman and another man with a microphone hovering close. Marie remembered the old news adage, If it bleeds, it leads. Only one thing would bring the law and a news crew clear out here—a violent death.
Too bad the victim wasn’t the little Tyler bitch. That would save Marie the trouble of killing her. But she’d seen Erin Tyler and the older woman walking back to the house after the sheriff arrived. It had to be somebody else. Will’s truck was still gone, and Sky was nowhere to be seen. Unless it was one of the cowhands, it had to be one of them.
Not that it mattered. She didn’t much care about Will; and Sky, although he was family, had shut her out of his life before she went to prison. Either way was no skin off her nose. But she might have to rethink her plan for the girl. With so many people around, including the law, the risk was too great. For now, all she could do was wait for a better chance. But Marie’s patience was wearing thin. She needed to dispatch the girl, inform Stella, retrieve the stashed bricks of heroin, sell them, and head for the border. The longer she stayed around, the greater the risk of getting caught for violating parole and sent back to Gatesville.
But what if there was another way? What if she could find Stella’s drug stash on her own?
How hard could it be? Stella had lived in a rented apartment. She wouldn’t have hidden the heroin there, or in her car, which was long gone. And she wouldn’t have hidden the bricks on open land or in the escarpment. There was too much chance of their being found. Just one hiding place made sense—the only piece of property Stella had owned—the Blue Coyote.
Having worked there and lived upstairs, Marie knew every inch of the old bar. If the heroin was there—and it had to be—she would find it. All she had to do was get inside with tools and time to look.
Stella had sold the bar to Abner Sweeney to pay her legal costs. Stella and Abner had been friends. As sheriff, he’d skated the edge of the law by doing her a few so-called favors. Maybe if Marie told him that Stella needed her to find something personal . . . But no, that story would never fly. Abner might not be the brightest bulb in the pack, but he wasn’t an idiot. She couldn’t expect him to look the other way while she tore the place apart searching for illegal drugs.
She would have to go in late at night, after the bar was closed. And she’d have to make sure that no one saw her and lived to tell about it.
* * *
Luke had told himself that leaving Erin was the best thing he could do for her. Still, with every mile he drove, the pain of missing her deepened. Over the years, he’d enjoyed a few brief relationships—interludes that had always ended when he moved on. Until Erin came into his life, he’d been satisfied with things as they were. But being with her had made him want more—waking up every morning to the sight of her beautiful face, filling a home with love and the laughter of children.
But he should have known he wasn’t made to have those things. He was a temporary kind of man—and Erin was a forever kind of woman.
He’d written the truth in his note. He would never forget her.
Driving since morning, he’d picked up northbound Interstate 27 in Lubbock and was coming into Plainview when he felt the need for a break. At the foot of a handy off-ramp, he found a small diner. Leaving his rig in the parking lot, he went inside, used the restroom, and ordered coffee and apple pie at the counter.
While he was eating, his gaze wandered to the TV mounted on the wall. A regional newscast was just coming on. Luke gave it half an ear until a familiar name arrested his attention.
“Will Tyler, a prominent Blanco County rancher, was shot and killed near his ranch this morning. The unidentified killer, who ambushed Tyler on the road from Blanco Springs, is still at large. But Luke Maddox, a temporary worker on the Rimrock Ranch, has been named as a person of interest by the county sheriff.”
There was more, but Luke didn’t wait to hear it. Knowing better than to draw attention by rushing, he peeled a bill out of his wallet, laid it on the counter, walked out into the parking lot, and climbed into his truck. After the initial shock of the news, his first thought was for Erin and how she must be grieving. He ached to be there for her. But what comfort could he give her when he was, evidently, the prime suspect in her father’s murder?
Starting the engine, he drove out of the parking lot. Running would be a fool’s choice. It would only make him look guilty. He had to go back to Blanco Springs and try to account for himself.
Crossing to the southbound on-ramp, he headed back the way he’d come. He was innocent of any crime. But given the circumstantial evidence—his relationship with Erin, the scene with Will, and his lack of an alibi—convincing the sheriff would be tough. Luke knew he had a fight ahead of him. But it was the thought of Erin that drove him now. If she believed in his innocence, he could get through anything. But what if she didn’t? What if she’d already judged him guilty?
He was on the freeway, somewhere between Lubbock and the exit to the Blanco Springs highway, when he saw the flashing red and blue lights in his rearview m
irror. He pulled off the road and stopped. It was time to face whatever had to be faced.
* * *
The sun was getting low when Erin heard the screech of Sky’s arriving truck outside. She rushed onto the porch to meet him as he vaulted out of the cab and took the steps two at a time. He was rank with sweat and coated with dust, but as she flung her arms around him, he felt like the only solid thing in a world that was crumbling around her.
He held her as he might hold a child, patting her back in a vain effort to comfort her. “My phone wasn’t working,” he said, releasing her. “Lauren gave me the news about Will when I walked in the door. We’re all in shock, but we’re your family, Erin. We’ll get through this together.”
“Beau’s coming,” Erin said. “He told me he’d be on the next flight.”
“Good. Maybe he can help us find out who did this awful thing.”
“The sheriff thinks it was Luke. Did Lauren tell you that?”
“Lord, no! I can’t imagine Luke killing anybody. He’s one of the gentlest men I know. And he had nothing against Will.”
“Not according to the sheriff. Luke and my father had an argument this morning. Then, after Dad went to town, Luke packed up and left.”
“An argument? What about?” Sky asked.