Page 44 of Destined Predator
“He couldn’t even open the bag.” Jack laughed, too.
“Jack, Cousin Beth’s twins are old enough now, right? And we should see if Sam’s wife will let their boy come stay, as well. Get the old bunkhouse done up…”
His enthusiasm for the idea left Casey cold. Yeah, Rhett had assumed he’d have a passel o’ brats all right.
“French fries are done,” said Emil, tipping them from the air fryer oven into a bowl.
“Good you have such industrial-sized appliances.” Lacey approved.
Casey found silverware. “I guess we’re filling everyone in as they fill up.” He and Rhett explained as they all ate. The new details, especially the mention of the jackal shifters and the toxins Casey had been exposed to, had his brothers and sisters gasping. “I’m fine. Any thoughts?” he asked the room.
“One.” Emil grabbed a biscuit. “All it takes to down a drone is a bent propeller or enough of a jolt to flip it.”
“Anyrelevantthoughts?” Casey asked from between gritted teeth.
“One more,” Anne said, licking salt from her thumb. “If the jackals are out there, why now? Somebody’s bankrollin’ them or holdin’ a leash. Jackals don’t do long game.”
“Could be someone funding them,” Casey agreed. “They’re muscle, not masterminds. Somebody’s pulling the strings and it sure as hell ain’t Aldan.”
“So Aldan and Vince—you saw two guys and you canned both of them, so I’m presuming it’s them—are getting revenge on you and me,” Jack said.
“And on the coywolves,” Rhett said. “They were suspicious, remember, about all the wolves and coyotes on the Double T land, when no other ranchers were reporting increased predator attacks. They thought there was some connection between the animals and here. That’s why all the traps and poison—on our land. Like a two for one.”
“Why the attack on that Greg Manning guy?” Ben asked. “I can’t figure that out. It’s linked—the jackal shifters that chased you must have been the ones who got him, right?
“And what’s the connection with your neighbors?” Lacey asked Rhett.
“Or to the FBI’s paranormal division being in town? And, sidebar, how cool is that division?” Anne sighed.
“Do you think it’s connected to Ernesto? To his disappearance?” burst from Robin.
Casey sighed. “That’s a lot of questions.”
“And we’ll put them to whoever we find at the Lone Pine.” Rhett stood. “So, if y’all excuse us…and maybe clean the kitchen, we’ll—”
“What?” Jack half-yelled.
“We’re going to pay a neighborly visit to the next-door property.” Rhett put his hat on. “Maybe a wellness check, on the Boyces, see what we—”
“No. No way. Not without us,” came from everyone present.
“As if we’re staying here while you go.” Jack rolled his eyes.
“We do it clean,” Casey added. “Eyes open. Nobody plays hero. And if I saydown, you hit dirt.”
They were still arguing about it, telepathically and out loud, as he drove his truck up to the Lone Pine farmhouse…with everyone on board.
“I still don’t know about just turning up.” Casey looked around. He scanned the quiet yard, the faded siding, the lazy spin of a weather vane.
“What, you wanna camo up and crawl through the bushes when it’s dark?” Rhett got out. “We’re just here to talk.”
“And what if we don’t wanna listen?” came a gruff voice from behind him—Aldan Weathers, the stocky, bigoted asshole Rhett had fired, holding the same shotgun he had been when they’d seen his image earlier. Vince Johnson, the thinner and more sour-faced former ranch hand came out of the barn too, also carrying.
A second ago, they’d all been talking and arguing as they usually did, but things weren’t usual or normal now. They were serious and menacing, and Casey wanted to bare his teeth in a warning growl.
The sun caught the metal of their guns, flashing once like a warning flare. Casey shifted his stance, ready but outwardly calm.
“Wheel’s turned.” Aldan barked out a laugh. “Last time it was me on your property and you threatened to shoot me.”
