Page 73 of Wyoming Mountain Murder

“No, not for certain.”

“We’re almost there,” Kent said.

Brian turned off the highway and took the road that led to the ranch. Gritting his teeth, he raced down the street. One more turn and they reached the fork where the road split for the two ranches. Killing his lights, he made a left.

He spotted an opening in the thicket on the side of the road. Pulled off into a spot in between the trees. “We should go on foot from here. Use the app to pinpoint exactly where she is on the property.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait for backup?” Kent asked.

Brian clenched his jaw. “Charlie can’t afford for me to wait. But if you want to hang back until the sheriff’s department arrives, I’ll understand.”

“We’re partners on this, right.” Kent his drew gun and handed him the phone with the app.

“Thanks.” Brian reached into the back, snatched the one bulletproof vest that he had and offered it to his partner.

“Keep it.” Kent shoved it back at him.

“We’re probably outmanned and outgunned. I don’t need you adding to the list of problems by taking a bullet.”

“Wanna know why I drink every night?”

Brian nodded.

“To forget I have to go home to an empty house. We never had kids. Some nights I wish like hell that we had. Or at least had gotten a cat.”

His grief was too fresh for Brian to point out that it wasn’t too late for him to find love again. Although no one would ever replace his wife, who he’d cherished, he could still share his life with someone.

Kent gave a dry chuckle. “Put the vest on, Bradshaw. I’ve seen the way you look at Charlie. I remember that feeling. To have a great love is a miracle. To have it for twenty-five years was luckier than I deserved. I’ve got nothing to lose. You can’t say the same.”

Brian strapped on the vest, grabbed the extra loaded magazines, divvying them up between the two of them, and stuffed his compact backup weapon, a Beretta Nano, into his ankle holster. “When this is over, I’m buying you a cat.”

Clasping his shoulder, Kent flashed a sad grin.

They both got out, closing their doors without making any noise. Brian crept through the woods, with Kent alongside him, headed toward the blinking red dot on the app.

To Charlie.

Be alive.

Please. Be alive.

NOSHOES,stripped down to her sports bra and underwear, Charlie shivered under Seth’s hateful gaze. Rather than untie her, he’d cut her T-shirt from her with the same bloody knife that he had used to slit Aubrey’s throat.

“Changed your mind? The end doesn’t have to be unpleasant. But I need you tell me where my wife is hiding. She took something. I need it back.”

Charlie had no idea of the location of the safe house. Even if she knew, she’d take it to the grave. Haley had made mistakes—awful, manipulative choices—but Charlie would not give her up to spare herself a nightmarish death.

“It’s not as if anyone gave me the address so I could keep in touch,” she said.

“Who has Haley? FBI? Marshals? Tell me the agency and name of the agent. I’ll manage the rest.”

She didn’t want to imagine how. Bribes? Torturing others? A vicious, never-ending cycle. The buck stopped here. “You want her bad. What did she take from you? Your pride? Peace of mind?” Soon, it would be his freedom.

Seth chuckled. “She stole money. A lot of it. The cartel’s cash. When they come looking for it, I need to have it.”

A string of filthy curses flew from Alcock. “You didn’t tell me Haley stole from the cartel. We’re all as good as dead.”

“Sounds like your list of problems is getting longer and longer,” Charlie said to Seth. “I’ll tell you what you want to know. But you’ve got to fight me for it. One-on-one. No restraints.”

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