Page 62 of Wyoming Mountain Murder

Haley shook her head. “Seth doesn’t let them visit. They never would’ve come. But I knew you would. Knew that you wouldn’t call the cops.”

A sickening thought occurred to Charlie as the pieces came together. “Did you shoot at me, too, at my house?”

Haley sobbed now. “I’m sorry. I’m so ashamed.”

“But why?” A misdirected bullet could’ve killed her. Or Brian. How could Haley have taken such a crazy chance?

“It made you angry, didn’t it?” Haley dabbed at the tears and wiped her nose. “Fired you up with the determination to get Seth?”

And it had.

This woman was a master manipulator.

What was the point of asking her any questions? It would only be more manipulation. Spinning half-truths just like Aubrey.

“You’re a real piece of work, lady.” Charlie was disgusted with herself for being so stupid. So easy. “There’s a DCI agent, Logan Powell, looking for you.”

“What?” Haley asked, a horrified look coming over her face.

“He doesn’t think you’re dead. Convinced me to look for you.”

“Wait a minute,” Haley said, her tears drying up quicker than a mirage in the desert. “If DCI Powell thought you could find me, who else might think the same? Did you lead someone here? Seth? One of his people? Oh God, the cartel?” Haley spun around. “The money.”

“What money?”

BRIANKEPTCHECKINGhis mirrors. But the itchy sensation slithering up and down his spine didn’t stop.

He climbed out of his truck and stretched his legs. Glancing over at the front office, he spotted the coffee machine. He checked his watch. Charlie had two more minutes with Haley, and then he was knocking on the door.

Time enough for a cup of Joe. He stepped inside and went over to the small table set up for guests. As he poured coffee in a paper cup, he looked across the street.

Was that the same black SUV sitting at the gas station that had pulled in around the same time he parked at the diner?

He couldn’t be sure. It was a Chevy. Dark tinted windows. They were a dime a dozen. He hadn’t gotten the license plate. But it was in the exact same spot off to the side of the pumps.

They hadn’t been followed from the house. That he was certain of. But it was entirely possible someone might have been waiting near USD. It was common knowledge that she went there every day. The best place to find her if someone was looking.

On the freeway he hadn’t noticed a tail.

Sipping his coffee, he watched the SUV pull out of the parking spot and leave the gas station. Relief ebbed through him.

Until the vehicle crossed over Old Highway 71 and careened into the motel lot. The driver gunned the gas, tires screeching across the asphalt.

Brian sprinted to the door and bounded out into the lot.

A window in the back driver’s side of the vehicle rolled down, and the barrel of an automatic weapon stuck out.

Terror clawed at Brian’s chest as he dropped the cup.

A series of loudRAT-A-TAT-TATSexploded.

Bullets tore into room 125, riddling the door with holes and busting the window.

No! Charlie!

He drew his weapon and returned fire, shattering the rear windshield.

The vehicle took off, speeding out of the lot. As it turned, going around the corner, he caught a glimpse of a man. The one with a jagged scar on his face.

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