Page 27 of Hell and Gone
“What would Lawrence’s motive be for cattle rustling or running drugs? Or killing those three men?”
“The oldest motive of all,” Braddock said. “Money.” He pulled a folded paper from his jacket and passed it across the table. “This is a deposit statement from Law’s bank account. Stephen, town’s bank manager, tipped us off and passed it along. It’s on the up and up,” he said, reading Everett’s glare. “Any large deposit is subject to vetting under those big counterterrorism laws. Give it a look yourself.”
Everett scanned the deposits. His stomach clenched, lead weights trying to pull his belly button down from the inside, drag him through the floorboards.
There were multiple deposits for ten thousand dollars each, scattered like gravel over the past year. Lawrence’s regular salary was deposited in steady increments, too. Four hundred a week. He made less than twenty grand a year running that ranch. He was living barely above the poverty line.
“Now, where do you think he could have gotten this kind of money?”
Everett shook his head.
“Here’s what I think. Law’s been cookin’ something up. Bringin’ drug runners through the Crazies ‘n’helping them navigate the passes, get through the tough spots. He knows the land the hard way, real good and true. Not many men do, but he’s one of ‘em.”
When you get to the falls on your way to Robin’s Roost, watch for the crossin’ as there’s some tricky parts where one wrong step’ll kill yourself and your horse and no one will be able to find your body. And be extra careful with the canyon down there by Whiskey Gulch. It’s treacherous.
“Why kill Carson Riley, then? If he and Lawrence had this… understanding?”
“Maybe Carson was involved in whatever Law is up to. Maybe they was rustling cattle off Endless Sky together. Maybe Dell and Aaron’s troubles waylaid their carefully arranged plans. Or, maybe Carson didn’t have a clue, but then he found out. Remember, Carson’s phone has that text message on it. He and Law were supposed to meet in that high pasture, right next to where he was hung, and Law’s the last man to see him alive.” Braddock shrugged. “I think someone found somethin’ out and paid the price. And now they’re coverin’ their tracks.”
Braddock sat back as the waiter reappeared, setting their steaks in front of them with a flourish. “All I know is, everythin’—and I do mean everythin’—circles around that man.” His shoulders slumped, though, and he stared down at his steak, an almost lost look in his eyes. “I seen a lot of boys grow up in these mountains. Most turn out all right. Some go bad. Some have got this mile-high potential, so much inside of ‘em you can tell from when they was just in they first pair of boots that they was gonna be somethin’ big. I thought that of Law, once. I thought he had it inside him to be great.” He shook his head. “I worry about my people all the time. And I worry ‘bout some more than others. He’s one of those.”
“And you’re worried he’s involved in everything?”
“I’m terrified of it,” Braddock said quietly. “I can see it, and I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit, but I gotta follow where the evidence is takin’ me. He’s too tied into everythin’. Is he workin’ with rustlers now? Workin’ with drug runners? Takin’ people out? Where’s this money comin’ from? Why’s he bein’ so belligerent, more so than usual?”
“I don’t know what to say. It’s a possibility.” Everett’s throat clenched. “Like you said, we have to follow the evidence.”
“I just wish Law’d find whatever it is he’s missin’ in his life and be happy, you know? He’s still searchin’ for somethin’. Or someone. I know it. He needs someone to come and bank those fires he’s got blazin’. Settle him some. Gentle the wild bronc that lives inside him ‘fore he breaks. And I thought that job on the Lazy Twenty-Two would be it for him. I gave him a good reference to that California man, Delaney, when he was checking up on hirin’ Law.”
“He loves that ranch. I think he lives for that land.”
“Yeah, that and bein’ a pain in my ass.” Braddock grinned, trying to lighten the mood as he cleared his throat. He changed the subject as he cut into his steak. “Now, you said you could identify the horse that was at each place from the castings you pulled out of the dirt. You can use that casting to find the horse, match them up with those prints you lifted?”
“Definitely. I’m positive I can make a match.”
Braddock chewed slowly, scowling. “Do you think that horse will turn up in Lawrence Jackson’s barn?”
Banshee’s empty eyes flashed in Everett’s mind. Lantana’s shake of her head, how her ears would flick when Lawrence patted her withers. Trigger’s bond with Lawrence, his every movement attuned to Lawrence’s.
He closed his eyes.
Dust filled his nose next to the smell of blood rising from the plate, no, rising from the dead man sprawled before him. He was in the Crazies, he was in Afghanistan, and he wasalwaysdrowning in dust and blood and betrayal.
“Son? Y’alright?” Braddock reached across the table, laying his weathered hand on Everett’s wrist. “You gone pale as a ghost.”
He looked down at his hands.
They were dry. They weren’t soaked in blood. At least, not today.
“I’m fine,” he croaked. He pushed his steak, the plate full of blood, away. “Sorry, my appetite is gone.” He closed his eyes again. Breathed in slowly.
“You one them vegans?” Braddock arched an eyebrow at him.
“No si—Darby.” Everett caught himself, just in time.
Braddock chuckled. “That’s good. Not much to eat ‘round here if you was.” He wiped his mouth and pushed his own plate aside, the steak barely eaten. “Let’s get some fresh air. I think I need a bit. How ‘bout you?”
Braddock’s hand drifted over the small of Everett’s back as he escorted Everett from the saloon. It was a warm touch, a comforting touch. Something that reminded him of when other people used to care for him, watch over him. He wanted to fall back into the ghost of those fingers for one moment. Only a moment.
