Page 29 of Hell and Gone
He had nothing to work with, save for a single slender-shoed horse print in the dirt and a text message to Lawrence asking him to meet in the pasture by the cottonwood grove.
Only someone he knew, and knew well, could have subdued Carson Riley and put a noose around his neck without a struggle. If it was murder, it came from someone Carson hadn’t expected.
Just like the Endless Sky cowboy shot dead in the back on Crazy Peak. He’d been shot by someone he knew, too.
He listened to the night, to the quiet sounds of midnight. Trucks crunched gravel on the road, idly turned into the hotel’s parking lot. He heard shocks squeal, heard boots stride carefully across the lot. A late turn-in, or a weary traveler pulling off for the night.
The town was lonely beneath the mountains and shielded from moonlight. Only the buzz of a flickering streetlight illuminated anything. Darkness hung outside his window, cracked open for fresh air.
Everett lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He’d ditched his shirt and lay in his jeans, his boots kicked off the end of the bed, his pistol on the nightstand.
Was there any truth to what Braddock had said? Were these murders, the rustling, the drug running… was it all Lawrence’s design?
They’d know soon enough, he supposed. There was enough smoke to request a warrant from the county judge. Braddock was driving out in the morning. It was a two-day event, driving there, meeting the judge, and driving back. They’d execute the search warrant when he returned, tear apart Lawrence’s ranch and turn everything upside down. Turn his life upside down, shake out whatever secrets he was hiding.
Because hewashiding secrets. Of that, Everett was certain. Dead certain.
Another truck turned into the parking lot. Gravel slid under tires. The engine cut off. Everett shifted. Exhaled and tucked one hand behind his head. Was this what he’d signed up for? Was this the life he’d imagined when he was imagining anything other than getting out of Afghanistan? He hadn’t thought much beyond that, really. Get gone. Get lost. Get as far away as far can go.
Was he far enough, though, when every time he closed his eyes, when every time he tasted dust, he was right back there? Tasting blood with the dust and feeling the world fall away in pieces.
Watching him fall. Watching the blood spread.
He could still feel the rifle in his hands. Could still feel the way he’d boiled, the way his heart had melted down, his soul a nuclear reactor.
You tracked a killer before?Lawrence had asked him.
Yes. Oh yes.
He stared at the ceiling, refusing to close his eyes.
There wasn’t anywhere far enough to get away.
Not from himself.
He kept his hands beneath the pillow so he couldn’t see them. Couldn’t see the blood flowing between his fingers—
Squeaking, the slide of metal on metal—close—made him roll off the bed, grab his pistol and crouch low. He peered over the mattress.
A man had opened his window, was crawling through it like a lumbering bear. Large, broad-shouldered, with a barrel chest, narrow hips, long legs—
The man grunted, rolling as he landed hard. “Army?” he whispered.
“Lawrence?” Everett hissed. He palmed his pistol, squeezing the grip. He kept it trained on Lawrence’s center mass. “Thefuckare you doing?”
“Army, we gotta go. We gotta gonow. They’re comin’ for you.”
“What?”
“They’re comin’ for you! Damn it, I shoulda realized this would happen. I shoulda warned you. This is my damn fault.”
“Who is coming, Lawrence?” Slowly, Everett stood, his weapon up and ready. Lawrence stayed crouched on the floor, keeping out of sight of the open window.
Lawrence held up both his hands. “I know this looks bad. But I swear to you. I’m here to help you.”
“Then answer me! Who is coming for me?”
“Keep your voice down! They’re already here!” Lawrence hissed. “Look, you said it out loud and in public: you said you could identify that horse the killer is ridin’. You said it in the sheriff’s office, and that place was stuffed with damn near half the town. And I said it, God damn it, to Terry, who can never keep his mouth shut, not to save his life. Soeveryoneknows now. Everyone knows about your casts and that you swear you can identify the horse, lead everyone right to the killer.”
