Page 57 of Steers and Stowaways
“Oh, please!” Gray scoffed. “Don’t tell me you haven’tfigured it out yet.”
Tucker had no idea what he was talking about.
“Wow! You’re losing your touch, detective.” Gray shook his head in false dismay.
Detective.Tucker latched onto the word. It felt significant that Gray didn’t seem to realize he was no longer serving as a police detective.
“I’ll cut to the chase.” Gray adopted a long-suffering tone. “Pete Flournoy and I go waaaaaaaay back.” He exaggerated the word to maximize the drama. “You don’t think I ran all those cocaine packages in and out of El Paso without a little inside help, do you?”
Tucker digested the claim. “You and Pete, eh?” Theirs was an unlikely partnership. Pete was a politician at heart, but he’d never impressed Tucker as having a criminal mindset.
Gray shrugged. “You know firsthand how hard it is to move our products across state lines, and don’t even get me started on the red-tape plastered across the border between us and our southern neighbors. Having a little federal muscle behind us makes things a lot easier.”
“Really?” Tucker was too fascinated by what his ex-partner was revealing to keep quiet. “I thought that’s what Mallory’s cattle were for.” It troubled him deeply how badly thugs like Gray Duncan used and abused livestock while carrying out their nefarious deeds.
Gray was all too eager to explain. Like a lot of criminals, he craved credit, a detail Tucker filed away for later use. “If you’re whining about your girlfriend’s herd, she got off light. Most of the cattle rustling problem in Heart Lake was fabricated.” He sounded supremely proud of that fact. “We brought in a few low-level thugs like the Silvas to lend it some authenticity—from rival gangs, too, to make it look like a turf war.” He gave an ugly laugh. “It was the surestway of getting your pals in El Paso to send you here undercover, and it worked!”
Tucker dissected Gray’s latest revelation. If there wasn’t a real cattle rustling problem in Heart Lake, then the only reason Gray could possibly want his old partner assigned to such a small town was because…
“You ordered the hit on me!” There was no other conclusion to draw.
“Ding! Ding! Ding!” Gray looked pleased. “Where’s my cowbell when I need it?”
“This is retribution.” Tucker hadn’t known it was possible for the man sitting in front of him to sink any lower.“For what? Trying to bring you to justice, or failing to die the last time you shot me?” He would forever wear the scar from their last encounter above his heart.
The pianist on stage started playing a beautiful old gospel song. The chatting in the sanctuary died down, and the wedding guests took their seats.
“Oh, boohoo!” Gray shooed him away like a moth. “If you’re trying to make me feel guilty for doing this on your wedding day, you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
“I don’t know you at all.” Whoever Gray had become was someone Tucker no longer recognized.
“Go!” Gray gestured with the pistol in his pocket. “Go get married and pretend for a few minutes like everything is going to be okay, even though it isn’t.” He snorted at his own joke. “Not for you.”
Tucker didn’t budge.
“Or…” Gray adopted a lazy tone. “I can just give the order and turn this place into a bloodbath right now. Your choice if you don’t get moving in three, two…”
Tucker forced his feet into motion. “Just leave everyoneelse out of it. I’m the one you want.” Gray didn’t answer as Tucker woodenly moved to the altar to receive his next surprise.
The minister standing behind the pulpit wasn’t a man he recognized, and there was no mistaking the bulge of a weapon beneath his suit jacket.
Tucker wasn’t catching any breaks today. He was indeed surrounded. Gray hadn’t been bluffing about that. So much for Gil’s promise to have their backs! Tucker should’ve known better that to believe him. Gil helped run a small-town security firm. He clearly didn’t understand what he’d gotten his team tangled up in. Lonestar Security was out of its league.
Tucker’s only remaining hope—outside of Divine intervention—was on Pete Flournoy enjoying his pristine political image more than he liked the prospect of being behind bars. Knowing Pete the way he did, it was entirely possible the guy was playing everybody in the room. He was skilled at running multiple agendas at a time.
Unfortunately, whatever agenda Pete was operating on didn’t change the fact that Gray Duncan was sitting in the front row with a loaded gun trained at the groom. Or that the man posing as a minister had him pinned in from the other direction.
Tucker turned around to face the back of the church. His heart ached to see Chip standing there with his mom clinging to his arm. His best man sure cleaned up good. Chip looked a few years older in his suit. He’d even found time to get a haircut. It was too bad the spiffed-up teenager was about to step into the crossfire of a dangerous set of criminals.
As Chip made his way down the aisle, Gray deliberatelystepped in his path. The kid’s face turned ashen. It was clear he recognized Gray.
Tucker watched Martina’s lips tighten. She recognized Gray, too, though she wasn’t afraid of him. Just angry and puzzled, as if she hadn’t expected him to be present.
Chip let go of his mother’s arm and took his place on the other side of Tucker, looking like death warmed over.Not good.
The pianist ended the first song and played the opening chords of the wedding march. Mallory appeared at the back of the church in her beautiful velvet dress. Gil was at her side.
What a great guy! Tucker hadn’t been expecting that. He mentally sent him a final thank you, fearing the retired sheriff only had seconds to live. If everything Gray said was true, there were at least five armed gangsters in the room—Gray, Pete Flournoy, the fake minister, Dexter, and Martina. There might be more.
