Page 14 of Final Ride

Shadow Mountain. West Virginia.

After straining his brain for hours, Bobby almost gave himself an aneurism, but he finally figured out a way to find Tammy. Not find her accurately—pinpoint her location or anything like that—but find a location close to where she was.

Using Fletcher Bowden’s name, he called Texas Ranger Headquarters in Austin and asked his question. The girl on the other end of the phone got the information quickly for him and made Bobby smile.

“Tammy Traynor/Bristol’s last known whereabouts was at the sight of a vehicle wreckage in the Smoky Mountains north of Asheville, North Carolina. Hope that helps, Ranger Bowden.”

“Tremendously. Thanks so much.”

He put the phone down and patted Cleo on her big, black head. “North Carolina, Cleo. Are you ready to go for a ride in the Jeep?”

Cleo wagged her tail and ran to the door.

“Hey, wait for me. I have to pack.” Excited that he had a new purpose and destination, Bobby ran into his room and filled a duffel with clean clothes. He grabbed his toiletries from the bathroom, the gun from the top drawer of his dresser and his wallet.

“I’m ready to go.”

On the way out, he locked up the cabin hoping no more squatters would break in while he was gone. “They better stay out if they know what’s good for them, Cleo. You can take a big chunk out of them when we get home if you want to.”

Bobby sat behind the wheel and reached for his map. “Let’s have a look at the big picture before we program the address in, Cleo.”

He lowered the passenger window for Cleo to stick her big head out, then reached under the seat to affirm that his tire iron was laying there if he needed it.

Touching the cold steel made him smile. That thing felt so good in his hand…and it had been a while since he’d used it.

“We’ve got the tire iron, Cleo. Let’s go find Tammy and bash her brains out.”

Cleo wagged her tail and Bobby laughed.

“It’s gonna be a great day, Cleo.”

Watson Cabin. North Carolina.

Willy was tired out after the day he’d spent in limbo. All day long, he’d wrestled with himself mentally and emotionally trying to figure out if he should let Tammy go like she wanted to or go with her and try to make a life with her on the run.

Hardest decision Willy-John ever had to make, and he wasn’t doing well at it. After hours of thinking on his decision, he was still confused.

He wanted to be with Tammy but if she had killed a lot of people and she was telling the truth about that, then he had to wonder how they could start a new life.

The police will catch up with her. They always do.

Willy thought about getting her a used car to drive and just letting her go. That might be the best plan.

They didn’t talk much during dinner and after cleaning up the dishes, Tammy went straight to bed.

Willy took the dogs out onto the porch and he sat in one of the old chairs and strummed his banjo for a while. Not loud enough to wake Tammy up. Then he came in and didn’t turn the lights on.

Without bothering to get undressed, he lay down on his cot and let the sadness and disappointment flood over him.

Worst feeling ever. He had high hopes for a life with Tammy and now…he couldn’t fathom life with a wanted murdered. They’d always be looking over their shoulders.

How could it be anything but one day at a time?

Willy pondered that concept for a while. Would he be satisfied with one day at a time?

Never once did Willy-John think of Tammy killing him.

No recollection of dozing off to sleep, but he woke when George and Gracie barked and ran to the door. Willy jumped up off his bed and ran to look.

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