Redemption (28 page)

Jack cursed under his breath, wanting to forget about her for a while as he pushed open the door to the bar and stepped in. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the semidarkness of the cool bar. He was surprised the place was so empty until he realized the time.

The sun had gone down hours ago. It was dinnertime, which meant none of the men in the bar had a woman or a meal to go home to. Two wranglers sat at a table by the jukebox. The only other patron was at the bar.

With an oath, Jack recognized him. Hitch McCray.

Good sense told him to turn around and hightail it out of there. Hitch had probably spent most of the afternoon on that very stool. He’d be half drunk by now, and given the animosity between them...

“Howdy, Jack,” Clete Reynolds called as he came out of the cooler with a case of beer and set it behind the bar.

“Clete,” he said as he sauntered over to the bar, taking a seat four stools away from Hitch. The other times he’d been in the bar, Clete hadn’t been working, so this was the first time they’d seen each other.

“Glad you’re back,” the bar owner said. “Heard you’re working out at the W Bar G. What can I get you? It’s on the house to welcome you home.”

“Just a beer, thanks.”

Clete opened him a cold one and set it on a bar napkin in front of him as the two wranglers in the corner said they’d have another round.

Clete went to serve them and Jack felt himself tense as Hitch slid off his stool, grabbed up his beer bottle and came down the bar to take the stool next to him.

“Clete acts like you’ve been away fighting for your country’s freedom instead of in prison,” Hitch said with a sneer. “He won’t even let
me
run a tab, let alone buy me a drink.”

Jack had heard that Hitch’s mother had cut his allowance after his last drunk-driving arrest. Jack couldn’t feel anything but contempt for a forty-year-old man who was still tied to his mother’s apron strings. Add to that his suspicion that Hitch was responsible not only for his father’s death, but also for setting him up on the rustling charge, and Jack felt a raging hatred for the man.

And his mother, Jack realized. Ruth McCray had to have covered for her son the night of the hit-and-run accident that killed Jack’s father’s. So she was just as culpable as her son.

“But, hell, you’ve got money. I just found out your mother left you a bundle. No wonder you wouldn’t sell the place to me,” Hitch said, turning on his stool to look at Jack. “You could at least buy me a drink.”

The money was invested. That was one reason he hadn’t touched it. The other reason was that he feared he’d do something stupid with it and disappoint his mother. So it had stayed invested and turned into more money than he knew what to do with. He wondered how Hitch had found out about his inheritance, not that it mattered.

“So are you going to buy me a drink or not?” Hitch demanded.

Jack’s first impulse was to drag Hitch out behind the Range Rider and beat the hell out of him. But maybe he had changed more than he realized. He suddenly saw this moment as one of those crossroads in life where there’s an opportunity to take the right fork. He’d come to a lot of forks in the road in his thirty-one years—and had often taken the wrong one.

As he looked over at Hitch, he knew this was another one of those times when he had the opportunity to go down a different road.

“Why not?” Jack said, and motioned to Clete as he returned to set one up for Hitch.

Clete looked surprised and concerned as he opened a beer and set it in front of Hitch. “I can’t let him drive if he has any more to drink.”

“Not to worry,” Jack said as he picked up Hitch’s keys from the bar where he’d dropped them when he’d sat down. “I’ll see that Hitch gets home.”

Hitch started to object, but Jack raised his beer bottle.

“To Hitch,” he said and took a drink. “And who says I’m not interested in selling my place?”

Hitch seemed a little confused. He’d obviously come down the bar looking for trouble. He hadn’t expected this. Fortunately, he’d already had enough to drink that it didn’t take much persuading to get him to have more.

Three beers later, Hitch was slurring his words and having trouble staying on the bar stool.

“Best get you home,” Jack said, taking Hitch’s arm. “I’m as scared of your mother as you are.”

Hitch tried to argue the point as Jack helped him out the back door of the bar. “Let’s take your truck, Hitch. I’ll see that you get it back tomorrow.”

He poured Hitch into the passenger side of the truck and before he could get around to the driver’s side, the cowboy was snoring.

Jack let Hitch sleep as he drove out of town. But at a literal fork in the road, Jack turned the opposite direction from the McCray ranch and headed toward Saddlestring Lake.

In the twilight, the pines were dark as the inside of a boot, the sky overhead a gleaming silver as Jack drove the ribbon of road deeper and deeper into the Crazies. He couldn’t help being a little afraid of what he might do once they reached the spot he had in mind. But there was no turning back. This had been coming for a very long time.

The road climbed in a series of switchbacks up the side of a mountain before it opened on a high plateau. Jack slowed as the lake came into view. Saddlestring was one of those high mountain lakes set like a jewel in the rocks and pines. As if bottomless, the water was a dark, crystalline blue-green.

He stopped the pickup high above the lake next to a sheer rock cliff, and cut the engine.

“Time to wake up,” he said to Hitch as he got out, and came around to the passenger side to drag the man from the truck.

* * *

B
ILLY PRACTICALLY JUMPED
up and down he was so happy after his grandfather’s call. He couldn’t wait to see Sheriff Frank Curry’s face when he told him he’d found his ex-wife.

Still, he hated just turning it over to him without knowing why Frank would want to get hold of a woman he’d divorced almost eighteen years ago.

Billy rubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw as he caught his reflection in his office window. He had the looks of a movie star. Many women had told him that.

Maybe because of that, he’d always thought he’d been born to great things. Often it felt as if he’d been waiting around his whole life for those great things to begin.

As he studied himself in the glass, he realized how much he missed his deputy sheriff uniform—and the gun. He’d become quite proficient at quick drawing—another reason Frank Curry had threatened to fire him.

“You’re going to shoot your damned leg off, Billy. Grow up.”

He felt that bitter taste in his mouth at the memory of the way the sheriff had treated him, calling him Billy the Kid and making fun of him.

Billy looked down at the address and phone number he’d written on the tablet on his desk.

He’d been so excited to see Frank’s face, but the thought of giving him what he wanted without first knowing why was just too great.

Frank had ordered him not to contact the woman. But Frank Curry wasn’t his boss anymore, was he.

Billy picked up the phone and dialed the number. If Pam was hiding from her ex, she might not take a call from Montana. But if she saw
W. Westfall
on her caller ID—

“Hello, Bull?”

“Pam, it’s Billy Westfall.”

“Billy. I thought it was Bull calling.”

He smiled to himself, pleased that it had worked just as he’d suspected it might. “I don’t know if my grandfather told you when he called you...”

“I haven’t talked to him. Why? Has something happened?”

He heard worry in her tone. “Bull’s fine. It’s about another matter.”

“Oh?” It amazed him how much smugness she could put into one little word. Clearly she’d been waiting for a call from Frank and knew only too well why he was looking for her. That’s why she’d made herself so hard to find.

“I opened my own private investigation business,” Billy said. “Guess who one of my first clients is?”

“I’m afraid to.” She was a terrible liar.

“Sheriff Frank Curry.”

“I’m not sure why you would think I was interested in that, Billy,” she said carefully.

He laughed. “Let’s cut the crap, Pam. Give me one good reason not to turn this information over to him. Better yet, make that a thousand, in cash along with some information.”

“What kind of information?”

“Tell me why he wants to find you so badly, while I tell you how to transfer that thousand dollars to my business account.”

* * *

T
HE MOMENT
K
ATE
opened the door to her apartment, she froze. Her thoughts had been on Jack and what had happened between them earlier. She’d been filled with deep regret, especially about what she’d said to him right before he’d walked out.

“Why can’t you just be satisfied with what you have?”

“Because I’m not like you,” she’d snapped. “I go after what I want.”

If only she could take back those words or the hurt she’d seen on his face, as if each word had been an arrow to his heart.

So deep in regret was she that it took her a moment to realize what she was seeing.

The place had been ransacked. Her treasure magazines were all over the room, many crushed under a boot heel, their covers dirty and torn.

Anger propelled her deeper into the apartment, even though she knew whoever had done this could still be inside. She hadn’t gone but a couple of steps when the door, caught by the wind, slammed behind her, making her jump.

She froze again, listening, hearing nothing but her own pounding heart. Earlier she’d checked to see if Jack was at his cabin before going out to the French place looking for him. She’d changed clothes and when she did, she’d left behind her gun.

Kate wished she had it now as she checked each room. Fortunately, the apartment was small and there weren’t a lot of places to hide.

The entire place had been gone through, but the intruder hadn’t found the map, she thought with a wave of relief. She still had the map from when Jack had given it back to her earlier. The map was probably worthless, but it was all she had of her mother.

A thought zipped past at the speed of a bullet. Hurrying to her bedroom, she dug in her bureau drawer.

Her gun was gone.

* * *

“
W
HAT THE HELL?”
Hitch cried as Jack dragged him to the edge of the cliff.

Jack watched fear sober him up some. “Here’s the deal. I know you were the one who ran my father off the road that night years ago. You were driving that old blue truck of yours, weren’t you? Probably half-drunk at the time.”

Hitch wagged his head as he did his best to lean away from the cliff edge. “No, I told you, you’re wrong. It wasn’t me.” Several rocks dislodged under his feet and careened down, eventually hitting far below like the echo of a rifle report.

“The truck wasn’t stolen like you told the sheriff, was it? You were just covering for yourself. Does your mother know the truth? She must have helped you get rid of the pickup.”

“It was stolen. I’m telling you the truth. Jack, you have to believe me.”

“Just like you didn’t put that bull in my corral?”

Hitch didn’t answer and for a moment, Jack feared the fool had passed out. As it was, Hitch was having trouble staying on his feet.

But then, Hitch slowly raised his head. “It was just supposed to be a joke.”

Jack felt his pulse take off like a rocket. He’d known it was something like this and yet he’d feared he would never know the truth. He’d known Hitch would be the perfect candidate for the job and yet he hadn’t been sure until that moment.

“Who put you up to it?”

Hitch wagged his head again.

Jack gripped him tighter by the shirt collar and shoved him closer to the edge of the cliff. More rocks dislodged as Hitch fought to keep his footing. “Who put you up to it?”

“You can’t
kill
me.”

“You’re so drunk that you could fall off this cliff. Everyone would just think you took a wrong turn.”

“No, Clete knows you took my keys, saying you were going to give me a ride home.”

“Clete also knows what an asshole you can be. All I have to do is tell him that I tried to drive you home, but you overpowered me and took your truck. How do you know I didn’t call the sheriff before driving up here to tell him I saw you driving drunk again? That I tried to stop you but couldn’t?”

Hitch looked more terrified than he had before.

“It makes sense,” Jack said. “You probably drove up here to sober up before you saw your mother. I’ll swear to all of it, just as you swore you had nothing to do with my father’s death, unless you tell me the truth now.”

When he didn’t answer, Jack shoved him closer to the edge. A large chunk of earth broke off, rocks and dirt cascading down the cliff. Hitch began to scream as the earth under him gave way.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

S
HERIFF
F
RANK
C
URRY
wasn’t surprised when Billy Westfall called late that night. Bull Westfall had always given his grandson anything he wanted.

Frank had worried, though, that Bull might have lost contact with Pam. The call confirmed what he’d suspected. Bull Westfall had more power than pretty much anyone in the county. Except for maybe Judge Hyett.

“Frank, I need to see you,” Billy said, sounding as cocky as he always had.

“Just give me the information and I’ll send you a check.”

“Stop by my office.” Billy hung up.

Frank swore as he snapped off his phone. He’d put up with Billy the Kid Westfall while he was a deputy, but fortunately Billy had stepped over the line so far the last time that even his grandfather couldn’t save his job for him.

Five minutes later, he walked into Billy’s office. The punk had his boots up on his desk, leaning back in his chair and looking overconfident and overbearing.

“Get your gloating over with quickly. I need to get back to work,” Frank said as he pulled out his checkbook, leaned on the corner of Billy’s desk and began to write.

“I found her.”