Page 66 of Deadly Evidence
Pain etched his lean features, and she knew he was reliving those terrible moments. “You were there.”
“Oh, yes, but not in time,” he said bitterly. “I should have been the one to die. I fired every round of ammunition I had and still couldn’t save any of them. They were caught away from any cover.”
Anna drew in a shaky breath. “How horrible.”
“Oh, that isn’t all,” he said. His voice went cold. “My friend Chuck took a bullet in the head. He died in my arms—but not before he whispered, ‘Don’t blame yourself, buddy.’ He was dying, and he was worried about me.”
“Oh, Brady. I’m so sorry.” She unlatched her seat belt and scooted next to him, wanting to give him comfort.
When she leaned her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around him, he rested his chin on her head and drew in a shuddering breath.
“The man who ordered that hit is the man behind the shipments coming across your property, Anna. And I’m going to get him if it’s the last thing I ever do.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
They drove back to the ranch in silence. Anna constantly scanned the road ahead and behind them, her hands clenched on the steering wheel and a sick feeling roiling in her stomach.
An enemy in daylight was terrible enough. One hiding in the darkness was far, far worse. Sure, that vehicle had headed toward town—but what if there were more?
And what if the driver had somehow traced her truck to the Triple R? A casual description given to anyone in town might lead a stranger to her door.
The eight miles of rough ranch road had never seemed so long, but all appeared quiet when they arrived.
Mojo, asleep on the front porch of the house, raised her head briefly and dropped it to her paws. Many of the cattle in the holding pens near the barns were lying down.
The doors of the house, Anna noted with relief, were securely locked.
Brady followed her into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, his arms folded over his chest, while she made a pot of strong coffee.
“Decaf,” she said, pulling two cups from the cupboard. “Want some?”
“No, thanks.”
He watched her pour her own cup, his eyes touched with haunting sadness, and the temptation to simply hold him warred with the anxiety and fear that had set her nerves on razor’s edge.
She took two long swallows of coffee, welcoming the bitterness and the scalding heat against her tongue, before finally finding her voice. “I need you to let me know about what’s going on in your investigation. I have to know.”
“I can’t do that.”
“It’s my ranch. My family and my employees are at risk.”
“I can say this much—so far we’ve seen just nickel-and-dime transport through your property, but the word is out on a major deal—within a couple of weeks. It’s what we’ve been waiting for.”
“Weeks?”
“We think they’ve been testing this route. Making sure it’s safe before they move ahead.”
“Maybe it’s time for you to consider packing up for a while. You’ve got relatives, don’t you? Some place you and Lacey could go?”
“I’m not leaving this ranch.”
“Use your head, Anna. Things are escalating here. It’s no longer safe.”
“My great-grandfather defended this ranch against the marauders coming across the border from Mexico. My grandfather and father stood their ground. I’m not slinking away and letting these people drive me off my land.”
“How are you going to defend this place and keep everyone safe? You’ve got two old men and a daughter here. And a girl who should hightail it back to New York if she’s got any sense. Dante has a checkered past of his own. They won’t be any help, believe me.”
Frustration and anger welled in Anna’s throat. “I thought you were supposed to be our big protector,” she snapped. “When you came out here, you said this was all going to end and we would be safe.”
