Page 78 of Silent Deception
He pushed away from the table, his anger simmering and his blood pounding in his temples. What was he going to do with the rest of his life—stare off into nothing? Be useless as a baby needing care? Listen to the sympathetic whispers of people he could never see?
He stalked down the hallway, then realized he had nowhere to go. No business he could do. No books he could read.
Adelfa had gone to Saturday evening mass and the rest of them had gone to the show in Dallas, far as he knew. His footsteps rang hollow on the terrazzo flooring of the empty house—echoing exactly what he would become. Alone, hollow. Without purpose.
In the living room, he paused in front of the fireplace and looked up at the indistinct shadow, displayed in a custom, mahogany-framed case, that had been his grandfather’s gun. A sleek 1800s Allen & Wheelock Army revolver, it was worth close to eight grand when last appraised.
Worth more, perhaps, as a way to end a bleak future, if it even worked.
Somewhere outside a dog barked, and tires crunched on the caliche gravel. He went to a window and made out the shape of a car down by the main horse barn. Strange, because no one should be here. The hands usually went into town on Saturday nights, and the family had gone to Dallas.
Probably a customer, he realized, the tension relaxing in his shoulders. Owners often dropped in over the weekend to check on the horses they had in training. Potential buyers from across the country knew the ranch well and occasionally stopped in to look over the show prospects or breeding stock.
Unfortunately, most of them arrived ready for endless conversations about their horses and the latest horse show gossip, while some happily settled into exhaustive debates on particular bloodlines or—worse, if they happened to encounter Clint—their political gripes.Ad nauseam.
He’d never cared to waste that kind of time.
Growling under his breath, he left the house and headed down to the barn. Oddly enough, the parking lot was empty. The barns were dark. And only a dim light shone in the office—just the small lamp that was left on, day and night.
Who would come out here and roam around at dusk? He focused again on the office window, indignant, and flipped on the aisle lights as he stepped into the barn.
Then he jerked open the office door and hit the light switches with the heel of his hand. “Who is in here?”
Crouched at the bank of file drawers along the wall, a dark figure in a hooded sweatshirt rose slowly.
Deliberately.
Turned to face him.
Something glinted in the faint light.
With a deafening explosion, a deep, burning pain ripped through his chest. Staggering, stunned, he opened his mouth to scream...
And then the room went black.
* * * *
BY THE TIME KRISTINdropped Cody off at Nora’s, the sky had darkened to a deep purple and she realized she’d probably missed her chance. Most cowboys headed for the honky-tonks or one of the local, out-of-the-way places where you could find great barbecue or Texas-size steaks at mom-and-pop prices.
Still, you never knew. This could be theperfectopportunity. There was usually at least one employee around the barns—probably as a security measure—and maybe he’d come out to her truck and greet her. He might even be glad for the company and less hesitant to answer a few casual questions without anyone else around.
She’d seen the hands who worked at the ranch and had met most of them—middle-aged, thickset, friendly guys. None she’d hesitate to encounter alone. She suspected Clint was very particular about hiring.
She continued up the lane. By the main barn, she pulled to a stop under one of several overhead security lights, a dozen yards away from a car parked farther in the shadows. One of the hand’s wives, maybe?
The barn’s lights were on, as were the office lights...but no one came out. Her initial resolve melted away.
Maybe theyhadall gone to town, simple as that, though finding absolutely no one around was unsettling, and she felt an eerie chill. Instead of getting out of her truck, she hit the locks and rolled her windows most of the way up.
Perhaps someone was working a horse on the other side of the arena...or was tending to chores in another part of the barn, and hadn’t heard her arrive. But now coming here seemed like a foolish decision.
Shifting her truck in Reverse, she glanced over her shoulder to start backing up.
At a soft tap on her window, she spun back and found a broad-shouldered figure looming, silhouetted in menacing, featureless black by the security light behind him.
With a scream she jerked away from the window, a hand at her mouth. Her heart hammered wildly.
“Kristin! It’s just me. Ryan.”
