Christine

Some detective I was! I pulled Justin’s truck into my parking spot behind Valentine’s and shut it down, convinced I’d just wasted an hour of my life. Not only had I not discovered anything new, I’d added to my list of questions. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d just stirred a pot of some kind. Hopefully nothing too stinky.

I slid from the cab, thinking about Bull’s last statement. If Mac had known about Wyatt, he wouldn’t have stayed with Travis? Was he implying Travis was somehow responsible for Wyatt? That made no sense. Travis wouldn’t have done anything with Mac’s girl. It just wasn’t in him.

But what could Bull have meant, then? I slipped through the kitchen with a wave for JV, and found Sissy on the floor, delivering a meal to an older couple sitting near the door.

With a light laugh, Sissy left my customers to their food and carried the tray back to the bar. “Wyatt’s a hard worker,” I said with a nod toward the jukebox where he lingered, trying —and failing —to look as though he wasn’t watching them. Sissy slid the empty serving tray onto the stack behind the bar. “He finished the floors and cleaned the men’s bathroom, too. Seems like a good kid.”

I motioned for the teenager to join them. “Would you be interested in working dinners, doing light food prep? Mrs. Charlotte could use help in the kitchen three days a week, Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, maybe three hours a day. We’re closed on Sundays. But you can pick up extra shifts cleaning on Wednesdays if you want.”

Sissy’s eyebrows shot up.

Wyatt’s eyes widened in surprise. A hopeful grin splashed across his face. “Are you giving me a job?”

I nodded, smiling. “Looks like. How old are you?”

“Going on sixteen.”

So still only fifteen. “Okay, we can work with that. You aren’t allowed behind the bar or in the liquor storeroom for any reason. You can’t even move a hand truck with anything alcoholic on it or stack cases of anything alcoholic. I don’t even want you to look sideways at anything with alcohol in it, and you can’t bus tables if there’s been drinking. I’ll lose my liquor license if you don’t follow those rules.”

Wyatt’s blue eyes widened, taking over his pale freckled face. His voice shook with what might be hope. “You trust me?”

Something twisted in my heart, and I knew I was doing the right thing. “I do, Wyatt. I know you won’t let me down. I’m only paying minimum wage to start but if you prove yourself, I’ll bump you up by a dollar in six weeks. When you go back to school, we can adjust your hours any way you need to.”

Wyatt looked at the floor. “I was… I wasn’t going to go back to school.”

I shook my head briskly. “No, that’s a deal breaker. If you don’t stay in school, you can’t work past the end of summer.”

Wyatt’s head popped up. His hands balled into fists but he slowly relaxed them. Emotions worked on his face, astonishment battling with fear.

“I’m not going to give you the school-is-important lecture.” I smiled, aware I had his attention even though he wouldn’t look directly at me. “But it is. If there’s a reason you can’t go back, I want you to come talk to me about it by next week. Otherwise, when school starts, if you stay in school, you can keep your job and I’ll give you an extra fifty cents an hour.”

Sissy choked on something but I ignored her, keeping my eyes on Wyatt while he fought his inner battle.

He swallowed hard. Finally he looked at me and nodded. “Okay.”

“Good.” I held out my hand.

With a slight hesitation, Wyatt took it and the deal was sealed.

“We need to get one of your parents to sign a work permit, since we serve alcohol here,” said I. “I can talk to your mom if you want.”

The cautious optimism drained from his face. “She won’t do it.”

The front door opened and DC was momentarily silhouetted against the late afternoon light filtering from outside. I watched him search the room, and wondered if he was about to let me have it for my visit to Bull.

“I’ll talk to your mom, Wyatt. I’ll convince her.” I laid a hand on his good arm. His flinch when I touched him cut my emotions to ribbons. “Excuse me, I need to talk to DC.”

“Hello, Christine,” said DC. “How’s Travis?”

“He’s a little sore, but better. I’m picking him up early tomorrow morning.”

“I hear you dropped by the jail for a visit today.”

“I’m sorry you weren’t there, DC. I didn’t go to harass Bull. I just needed to ask him something.”

DC negated my need to apologize with an easy wave of his hand. “It’s okay. The man’s allowed visitors and he agreed to see you. But he had some things to say to me after you left, and now I need to speak to the boy.”

“Wanda was here this morning.” Quickly I related the incident, describing my brief glimpse of the burn on the woman’s arm. “DC… the other day I bumped into Phyllis MacKay at the drug store. She dropped some of her purchases and I helped her pick them up. She had a carton of Reds and a six-pack of Black Mountain.”

He snorted. “You think old Phyllis MacKay is out starting fires in hay fields? Or whizzing on your truck and slashing tires?” DC shook his head. “Lots of folks smoke those cigarettes and drink that beer, Christine. And in case you don’t remember, whizzing wasn’t the only thing done on your truck.”

I leveled an unblinking stare at the sheriff. His eyes sparked with recognition. The brand names meant something to him. “Just telling you what I saw,” I said coolly. “Phyllis said the Reds were for Wanda.”

DC nodded and sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, Christine. Things are edgy here. Thanks for letting me know. I’ll add it into my notes. Right now, Bull asked me to look in on his wife and boy, and that’s what I’m doing.”

* * *

For the first time in my life, when my morning alarm went off, I was already out of bed and in the shower. I agonized in front of the closet. Wear something sexy, he’d said. But sexy what? Practical and sexy or feminine and sexy?

“Oh, screw practical.” I pulled out one of my sexiest dresses. Sliding it over my head, I shimmied to adjust the fit, then regarded myself critically in the full-length mirror. The dress was outrageously short. Sheer black material splashed with tiny red and tan flowers lay over a black satin slip. A peasant style neckline connected to ballooning sleeves that started off the shoulder and fell to my wrists. The fabric was loose but clingy in all the right places and I did a happy dance, watching in the mirror as the fabric swished and swirled around my bare thighs. I was already picturing the gleam Travis would have in his eyes when he saw me.

After fastening an elaborate braid of shiny red beads around my neck, I slid on a matching bracelet. My hair I pulled into a messy, loose ponytail and secured with a filmy red scarf, the style Travis seemed to have so much fun undoing. Next I added subtle makeup. Finally I slipped into my favorite red Western boots.

I twirled in front of my full-length mirror, happy with the result.

“Girlfriend, you are quite the trollop,” I said to my reflection. My appearance sent a definite message of my sensual intent, and I hoped Travis was up to the things he’d promised in his phone message. If he wasn’t, I certainly could improvise. I smiled and my heart tripped in happy anticipation. He’d obviously made peace with my revelation about Mac.

The soft knock on my door bumped my pulse up a notch, and I took a moment to settle my nerves. Bull was in jail. I was safe. Still, I peeked through the window. When I saw Sissy’s cap of pale hair, her muscles sagged in relief.

“Hey, I left my storeroom keys at home —whoa!” Sissy stared. “That’s hot! Are you sure you want to risk giving your man a heart attack? He is just getting out of the hospital.”

“And I intend to bring him all the way to a full recovery.” I grabbed a set of keys from a hook near the door and tossed them to Sissy. “Thanks for waiting on the deliveries.”

With a laugh, Sissy dragged me toward the door. “Go get him. And by all means, do everything I wouldn’t do.” I grinned. “Just be ready to tell me all about it.”

Excitement sent out tiny ripples as I climbed into the truck. The sun had already begun to heat the air, but the days of oppressive heat were still a month off. I opened the windows in the cab, thrilled by the wind whipping through my hair. It was almost as good as riding across the plain on Cloud’s back.

I cranked the radio up and sang along with the variety of popular country artists, as the red pickup began to eat up the miles to Jackson. Too bad I hadn’t driven Travis’s hot little sports car. That machine probably took these mountain curves without slowing down.

I saw the white truck as I rounded another curve, parked not quite far enough off the road to be safe. Pulling in front of the disabled truck, I stopped and jumped to the ground.

The door to the other truck pushed open and Phyllis MacKay hopped out, a look of profound relief on her face. I groaned inwardly, almost wishing I hadn’t stopped. Phyllis had always been a bit distant and lately was even more so. Still, it wouldn’t be right to just leave the older woman on the side of the road.

I pushed what I hoped was a friendly smile on my face. “Phyllis, what are you doing all the way up here?”

“Oh, thank God!” Phyllis wrung her hands and started babbling out her explanation. “I’ve been stuck up here for over an hour and you’re the first person I’ve seen. Wanda had one of her spells last night, and we used near all her medicine keeping her calm. I left Robert watching her so I could go to the hospital and get her prescription. But then I got this far and the truck just died. I can’t think what might be wrong with it.”

“Did you try looking under the hood?”

“Oh, I know absolutely nothing about engines. I wouldn’t even know what I’m looking at.” I made a face. “I probably wouldn’t, either. Have you tried starting it again?”

“Not for the last fifteen minutes or so.” Phyllis smiled. “The engine just turns and turns and turns. Robert’s going to kill me.”

I felt a twinge of apprehension at Phyllis’s words. I didn’t doubt Robert would be capable of killing. I thought of him at home with Wanda, and the twinge of apprehension turned into a winter-cold blast of fear. I shook it off. DC knew something was going on. Surely Robert wouldn’t hurt Wanda. Still, it would probably be best to help Phyllis get back home, just in case.

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll be okay. It’s not like you broke down on purpose. Here, let me give it a try. Maybe I’ll have better luck.”

But the engine only spun without catching, just as Phyllis had described. I went back to Justin’s truck and retrieved my cell phone from my purse.

“Hmm, no service.” I changed position, held the phone up over my head squinting at it.

“I’ve walked all around this place, even walked back down a ways,” said Phyllis. “I don’t have service, either.”

I checked my watch and sighed. I was going to be late, but what could I do? “I’ll take you back to Allan’s. He can send out a tow truck.”

“Oh, no.” Phyllis shook her head in protest, but looked apprehensively around the deserted stretch of road. “I can see you’re on your way someplace. Just leave me here and as soon as you have service, you can call my husband for me.”

“Phyllis, don’t be silly. I can’t just leave you here. It’s almost an hour to Jackson.” Phyllis sighed heavily, her face troubled. Then she brightened. “Robert has a cousin who lives just a ways further up. Could you take me to his place? It’s about a mile off the main road.”

I smiled. Driving one mile out of the way beat the heck out of twenty. “Do you think he’ll be home?”

“It won’t matter. I have a key so I’ll be able to use his landline to call for help.”

“Okay.” I motioned to Justin’s truck.

Phyllis reached into the white truck and came out with an oversized purse. Offering a weak smile, she joined me.

“It’s kind of hard to spot,” said Phyllis about a mile and a half later as she peered intently at the side of the road. “There it is!” She pointed to a narrow track.

I turned left onto the tiny trail, wincing as branches scraped along the side of the truck. I wonder what a new paint job costs. “Are you sure this is it? It doesn’t look like anyone’s been along here for a long time.”

“Braden likes his privacy. He’s a little standoffish.”

That would explain why I’d never heard of Robert Senior’s cousin. Maybe. Why would anyone want to be so disconnected from humanity?

The trail narrowed. If that kept up, I’d never get the truck turned around to get out. According to the odometer, they were a little over a mile in. As it was, I’d probably have to back up half of that before I could turn. I slowed the truck to a crawl.

“I don’t know, Phyllis. It’s getting tight through here.”

“Just a little farther now.”

The track had become next to nonexistent. Light spilled through a break in the trees up ahead, so I aimed for that. Loose sand sucked at the tires, sending them into a sideways slide. I struggled with the wheel and played with the accelerator. If they stopped, the sand would swallow the wheels. Maybe even the truck.

They burst out of the woods amid more scratching branches. About twenty feet ahead, blue sky loomed —and nothing else. I jammed my foot on the brake, stalling the truck’s engine but coming to a stop in a spray of shale only a few feet away from the edge of a cliff.

I took a deep breath and blew it out. Leaning forward over the dashboard, I chuckled nervously. “Okay, that was definitely a wrong turn, Phyllis.”

“No, it was the correct turn.” I angled a glance toward my passenger, smiling. “Are you sure? It must have been—”

The long barrel of a very large revolver was leveled directly at my chest.

My smile deserted me as chills settled low in my belly.

Phyllis MacKay’s mildly anxious countenance had been replaced with grim determination. Emerald eyes, cold and calculating, watched mine. They were the eyes of someone who had nothing left to lose.

“I’m sorry, I, I really am.” Phyllis apologized as though expressing regret over missing a social engagement. “But you’re about to have a terrible accident, and I’m afraid you won’t survive.”

“Phyllis… what are you doing?”

“You’ve just become too big a liability. I overlooked it when you helped the McGees with starting their horse boarding business. That wasn’t going to save their ranch. But you shouldn’t have started going about with Travis McGee. That just got you more attention than was good for you.” Her gun hand jerked with her agitated speech. “Oh, I know you talked to DC about your concerns for Wyatt and my daughter-in-law. But I’ve been putting people off that trail for years.” Drawing a deep breath, Phyllis seemed to calm herself. She shrugged and added in a considering tone, “Now I’m thinking that losing you will devastate Travis. He’ll probably drive that fancy car of his over this same cliff in his grief. That’s even better than shooting him.”

I struggled to breathe against the dread filling me. I frowned, unable to follow all of Phyllis’s disjointed rambling. “Phyllis, are you and Robert responsible for the incidents at the Hawk MC?”

“You like those? Some of them were pretty creative.” A serene smile curved Phyllis’s mouth. “Robert… he didn’t think any of it would work.”

“But why? Were you trying to get Travis to come home?”

Phyllis’s face clouded and the barrel of the gun dipped slightly. “It was Grant I wanted to kill. I almost had him when he was up there moving the herd off the range. He had to come up with fancy plans to expand their ranch. I figured with Grant dead and Travis still gone, old Justin would never follow through. If the McGee ranch goes under or near enough, they’ll sell that range land along the Green River. Got a buyer all lined up for MacKay land up there, but they aren’t interested unless they can get all of it or at least the mineral rights. Grant McGee flat out refused to sell to them so they stopped the deal.”

“You want to kill Grant over a land deal?” That was straight out of a Western movie. I forced myself to breathe slow and easy. “What’s up there that makes it so appealing? It’s almost impossible to get to.”

“Coal,” snapped Phyllis. “Green River’s got a rich vein but not many folks around here want a mine in their back yard.”

“The McGees will never sell.” I remembered the sheer love for the land I’d seen on Travis’s face.

“Justin will, once he’s got no more sons to leave the great McGee legacy to,” said Phyllis coldly. She shook her head. “Those McGees. Always in our way. Always acting like they’re better than everyone else in the county. I’m glad it’s them I had to deal with. Means I can finish what I started years ago. I was going to kill one son. Now I can get them both. I really didn’t think Travis would ever come back here. But then he did and right away he took up with you.” She brightened. “Now that he’s here, I won’t have to worry about him showing up later. I wanted to get you together but my son had to go off on him.” Her teeth flashed in a cunning smile. “He did good that night, though, even if it was too soon. If people would have just minded their own damn business and stayed inside, he might have finished it.”

No denying it anymore. Phyllis was completely insane. The way her emotions ran her up and down like a roller coaster, it was a wonder no one had ever noticed her instability before. And she was clearly losing what shaky hold she had on reality.

“What did Travis do?” I tried to swallow but my throat seemed paralyzed. “Do you hate him for taking Mac away?”

“Goodness, no.” Phyllis’s smile and pleasant tone made their conversation an obscene parody of afternoon tea between friends. “I hated Johnny. Never wanted him. But Travis taking him off like that drove the final wedge between our families. I made sure of that.” The chill in her eyes intensified as she spoke in a falsely sorrowful tone. “Oh, I just don’t know why he’d take off with my boy like that. My poor, poor baby. What could Travis McGee want with him?”

I stared. How could that wonderful man, I’d fallen in love with, have possibly come from this madwoman? “But Mac was your child.”

“So?” Phyllis tilted her head and regarded me thoughtfully.

“Then is this about Catherine’s death? Travis was only twelve. He tried to save her. She was his mother.”

Phyllis’s laugh reverberated in the pickup’s cab. A startled hawk took off from its perch on the top of the pine tree just outside my window. “I was glad he couldn’t save her.” She leaned toward me, her tone becoming conspiratorial. “How do you think my sister came to slip into the creek in the first place?” My jaw slackened.

“You killed your sister.”

“Now see that? You’re a lot smarter than these local folks, aren’t you?”

“Why?”

Phyllis shrugged. “She caught my husband’s eye.”

“They were having an affair?” Keep her talking, stall for time, look for a way to escape.

A snort from Phyllis echoed the contempt reflected in her eyes. “I doubt she would have seen it that way, but sooner or later, he’d have had her. He wouldn’t have been able to stop himself.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you do. My Robert takes what he wants. Who he wants. He wanted my sister, and I couldn’t have that.”

Surprise propelled me forward a couple of inches. “So you killed her?”

The gun jerked.

“Sorry.” I held up my hands. “You surprised me.”

“You’re in no position to judge me, the way you parade around half-dressed. You’re a tramp, just like all the others. It was only a matter of time before Robert turned his eye on you, the way you carry on at that bar. But you whoring yourself with a McGee, brought it on that much sooner.”

Despite my attempt to remain calm, the bitter taste of bile gurgled into my throat. “Phyllis, there’s nothing between your husband and me.”

A bark of harsh laughter shook Phyllis, and she rolled her eyes. “You think this is about a relationship? It’s all about what he hungers after. And you being with the McGee boy, that’s made him hungrier than he’s ever been.” Her smile faded; bitterness settled over her face. “He’d come at me brutal ’most every night, but it was your name he was moaning as he finished with me. Same as when he wanted my sister. Why do you think he was in your parking lot the other night? He’d have come for you then, but you were with Travis.”

“Did Robert tell you about that?” Panic swelled, choking off my oxygen. I struggled to steady my breathing. Fear wasn’t going to get me out of anything.

“No. He keeps that part quiet, unless things get out of hand, and I have to clean up. My daughter-in-law’s mother works in the sheriff’s office. She’s such a shameless gossip. It helps to know what investigations are active and the direction they’re taking. Helps me keep tabs on who’s going to be where.” Phyllis’s smile was cunning and self-satisfied, and I wanted to wipe it off her face. “She couldn’t wait to tell me you were going to pick Travis up early this morning. She thought I’d be relieved he was going to be okay.”

So that was how Phyllis had known where to catch me. My hands turned to ice. Each revelation tightened my anxiety. Things couldn’t end well. Keep her talking. “Your husband has liked other women, hasn’t he?”

Phyllis shook with silent laughter, her eyes glazing. “He’s taken a few companions up to the McGees’ cabin for a nice little getaway.”

“He hurts them, doesn’t he?”

This time Phyllis MacKay’s laugh was loud, bordering on maniacal. “Nothing but trash. He takes what he wants when I let him. By the time Robert’s finished with them…” She shrugged. “Believe me, I’m doing you a favor ending it this way.”

“No, you’re not.” I kept my voice even. I had to find a weapon of some sort, or I had to figure out how to open the door and get out of the truck before Phyllis decided to shoot me. “You don’t care about me any more than you cared about your sister. You can’t let him hurt me because if he starts hunting women in Pine Haven, that investigation’s going to end up on your front porch.”

“See? I told you, you’re smart.”

“Where does Wanda fit into this? Why did you let her stay?”

A flare of nostrils and a very slight narrowing of the eyes were Phyllis’s only reactions.

I leveled my gaze on the crazed woman. The more she talked, the less attention she seemed to be paying to her surroundings. Was it possible to reach the tool belt behind the seat without drawing attention?

“Mac isn’t Wyatt’s father, is he?” I asked quietly, holding Phyllis’s eyes with my stare. “You didn’t have a choice. You had to let her stay. Did Bull force your hand?”

Phyllis sighed heavily. “Bull always did exactly what I told him. Until Wanda had that child.” Her eyes were looking in my direction but focused on something she saw in her head. “I wanted Wanda to die in childbirth.” Again her voice took on false sorrow. “So sad, my boy’s gone, and now so is my daughter-in-law and her baby… my grandchild…” She snorted. “When she went into labor and started having trouble, I thought she would. But Bull defied me that day. He took her to the hospital himself.”

Slowly, without taking my eyes off Phyllis, I slid my hand toward the rear of my seat. If I could just keep Phyllis occupied and off balance long enough to get my hands on that tool belt. A screwdriver wasn’t much of a weapon compared to a gun, but it was all I had. I stretched a little more, almost there.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Sunlight flashed on the gun’s barrel just as the butt smashed into my forehead, leaving me stunned. Vaguely I heard Phyllis rummaging around in the truck’s cab. Then I was alone. Seconds later, the driver’s side door was wrenched open.

I tried to sit up, but my brain couldn’t seem to animate my body. Rough hands shoved my forward into the steering wheel. I connected with a painful jolt. My teeth sank into my bottom lip and the metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth. Phyllis was coming at me like a wild woman, carrying something big. Move!

Moaning, I rolled my head, managing to dodge the worst of the blow as Phyllis slammed a rock into the back of my head. Pain exploded like a bomb. Little star bursts of fiery agony blurred my vision. Dimly I saw Phyllis raise the rock again.