CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
BLADE WAS IN great shape. In his line of work it was important. Most weekends when he was home in Denver, he spent his time skiing in winter and running the mountain trails in summer. But tonight, following Agent McMillan up the rocky hill behind the house was hard work.
The agent must have had raccoon eyes because he had no trouble weaving between the rocks. Blade guessed that at one time, maybe a hundred years ago, there was a trail here wide enough to take a wagon through, but landslides and weather had eroded it completely.
Even in winter this back corner of his land was beautiful, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like in spring. As they climbed, the views were breathtaking. The land below seemed covered in shades of dark velvet, and the stars sparkled off Indigo Lake like black diamonds.
“I flew over this whole area a few times and found this point,” Matthew said as he climbed. “Highest place for miles around. Took me two hours to find it on foot the first time I came out, but wait till you see the view.”
Fifteen minutes later they turned into what looked like an abandoned cemetery. A few of the graves were as sunken in as dead eyes. Rotted wooden crosses were scattered about, reminding Blade of broken toys left out to decay. A few small headstone markers made out of rocks spotted the ground, and someone years ago must have circled the area with jagged rocks as black as flint.
Blade remembered Grandmother telling him about a Hamilton cemetery. At least that part of her story was true. What else had she said? Something about the dead overlooking the people who were believed to have added fire to the feud?
This was his ancestors’ cemetery. He stepped to the edge of a cliff. Down below had to be the back part of the Bar W. The part Dice had said had no roads crossing the pasture. Was it possible that a hundred years ago the feud that killed several had been started by the first Collins?
Agent McMillan stepped up beside him. “I’ve been watching. I’m not sure what’s going on down there, but I’d bet whatever they’re doing, it’s not legal. Why would people be moving around way out here after dark? I’ve seen trucks moving across the land like there was a secret road down there.”
Blade studied the land below as the moon rose higher.
The agent continued, “Lately, when the moon is up, trucks drive in slow from a backcountry road. They turn off into a shallow stream just wide enough for them to move into the water. I can’t get near the stream, but I’d bet the bottom has been fortified with something strong enough to hold the trucks’ weight. Then, as soon as they come to the trees, they pull out and follow the line of dying elms until they hit flat pasture. From there they drive toward that canyon wall and just seem to vanish. One minute I can see them moving, and the next, nothing. It’s like they vanish into the shadows of the cliffs.”
Blade didn’t say anything. He was figuring it out. Pieces of conversations were weaving together.
“How long has this been going on?”
“Less than a week ago we had an anonymous call to watch out for a couple of trucks heading north. We watched for them and followed for a hundred miles before we stopped them. The cattle trucks were empty but we found drugs hidden in false floors.
“We kept the watch up, but the rain came and no trucks crossed any of our checkpoints, north or south. Now it’s dry enough for them to start the operation again. Last night I saw two trucks move in and disappear at the canyon wall. Tonight we’re hoping they’ll come out loaded and we’ll have the whole operation.”
Without a word, they moved to the edge of the cliff and lay down on their stomachs in the tall grass. The outcropping had to be hanging over Collins land. Only, they were forty feet up.
The night was so still Blade could almost hear himself think. This was a big operation. Someone had put in time and work figuring it out. There was no doubt in his mind what was happening. Transport of drugs. With the trucks, this had to be the distribution point. The center of the operation out here, so far from any town no one would accidently stumble on it.
Dice had commented that the ranch operation hadn’t used the back pastures in years. Grass was spotty. Dirt so hard and rocky it wouldn’t hold rainwater.
Suddenly, the silence of the night was broken by what sounded like rolling thunder. Out of the tree line came three men on horseback, riding fast, leaning low in the saddle as if all hell were chasing them.
Blade had ridden a few times, but nothing like these guys. They were one with their horses crossing like living lightning, hooves pounding the ground in a rumbling beat. At times the horses seemed to fly.
He pulled his camera up and started shooting. They were dressed Western, chaps slapping their legs, hats low on their foreheads, arms moving in time with the horses. For a moment he swore he was capturing a scene from a hundred years ago.
Matthew pulled his rifle forward and looked through his sight. “Too far to see who,” he whispered. “But these boys were born to ride. Look at them go.”
Then, the roar of engines blended with the thunder of hooves as three four-wheelers took chase. One man in each was standing, rifle resting on the roll bar, ready to fire.
Matthew whispered, as if they might hear him over the roar, “I don’t know who those cowboys are, but the vehicles will catch them as soon as the horses hit flat land.”
One shot rang out. Then another and another. The riders were taking fire.
Matthew laughed. “I don’t know those guys, but I’m about to be their guardian angel.”
His first shot hit the front tire of the first off-road vehicle. It rolled like a toy over tall buffalo grass. His second shot must have hit the engine, because it died so fast the men inside flew out like jelly beans exploding from a broken jar.
The third four-wheeler turned around and headed back toward the trees. The man with the rifle fired off several shots as he bumped along, but none looked like they hit the riders or horses.
The cowboys hadn’t slowed. They were splashing across the stream and heading straight for what looked like a ravine winding its way along what must be the border between the ranches.
Blade rolled away from the edge and sat up. “I’m impressed, Matthew. How’d you learn to shoot like that?”
“Trained for the Olympics when I was in college. Dad said if I could shoot rabbits, I could shoot targets. I didn’t make the final cut, so he made me go to college.”
“How’d you know who the good guys were?”
“Didn’t know for sure. I didn’t want to kill anyone, just stop the fight. Didn’t seem fair shooting at someone riding away.”
They watched the men who’d been thrown from the ATVs walking back toward the trees. A few were limping, but all were standing. None looked in shape.
Blade also noticed none looked like they belonged on a ranch. “I can make a pretty good guess who two of those cowboys were. They were doing the same thing we were doing tonight—investigating the trouble on Bar W. And, you guessed right, they were the good guys.”
Matthew strapped his rifle back onto his back. “We’d better get out of here. They’ll come looking for us when they take the time to figure out none of the cowboys were firing back. And it won’t be hard to guess where the shots were coming from.”
“I agree.”
The hike down wasn’t nearly as hard. Once they were back at the house, Matthew and Blade sat on the porch and talked until a black car pulled up where his road turned off the main road.
“My ride’s here.” Matthew stood. “I’ve got enough to go on. You’ll send me the pictures?”
“First thing in the morning.”
Matthew offered his hand. “I won’t be back. We’ll be notifying the sheriff tomorrow before we go in. If those trucks I’ve been counting as they go in and out are full of what I think they are, we’ll be making one of the biggest busts ever in West Texas.” He stepped off the porch. “You be at the sheriff’s office tomorrow.”
Blade smiled. “I wouldn’t miss it. I’ll be in on the raid as both an ATF agent and a sheriff’s deputy.”
“I’d like to hear all about it over a beer when this is over.”
“I’ll buy.” Blade realized every agent was his brother. He wasn’t as alone as he’d thought he was on the job.
He watched the agent disappear and wondered if Grandmother was across the lake, thinking he’d hooked up with a ghost. It was long after midnight. Grandmother was probably asleep. There were no lights coming from the mission home across the lake, but he’d head that way, anyway. He liked the idea of waking up to breakfast cooking.
When he clicked on his phone, Blade hoped to see a message from Dakota, but there was only one message from Lucas Reyes.
I’m safe for the night. Don’t worry about me. Tell the sheriff I’ll be in to talk first thing in the morning. Tell him I said we found the box.
Blade had no idea what Lucas was talking about, except he obviously wasn’t coming here for the night. Blade stood and walked over the bridge and headed toward Dakota.
Ten minutes later, he pulled his boots off on the porch and slipped through the unlocked door.
They must have expected him back. He smiled.
Halfway across the living area, he noticed Dakota curled up in an old stuffed rocker. She looked so tiny in the big chair, just as she had that first night.
Without thinking about it, he carefully lifted her, then sat in the chair with Dakota in his arms. Her legs hung over one fat arm of the chair and her hair covered the other.
She wiggled and settled her cheek against his chest. He drew her close as his foot tapped the floor to slowly rock them both.
“I told you not to wait up for me,” he whispered into her wild hair.
She wiggled again and raised her head. “You’re back. How’d you get in my chair?”
He laughed. “I’m on the bottom. You must be in my chair.” He moved his hand along her leg, pulling her a bit closer. “We might be more comfortable in bed.”
A snort came from the leather couch ten feet away. “You both might be. Then I could get some sleep.” Grandmother’s tone gave no hint of having been asleep. “You each got beds, go to them. And I plan to sleep with one eye open to make sure there is no sleepwalking in the hallway, all night long.”
“Don’t you have a house, Granny?” Blade grumbled as he lifted Dakota off his lap.
“Don’t you, Hamilton?”
Good point, he thought. Maybe he shouldn’t push his luck. “See you in the morning.”
He followed Dakota down the hallway. She gave him a quick smile and disappeared into her bedroom. He walked on to the guest room, feeling his tired body ache to hold her. There was no doubt. He was addicted to her. After all his short affairs and one-night stands, this was the one woman he’d never turn away from.
He laughed. He’d fallen for the girl next door. It had taken him so long to find his home, he was very lucky she was still waiting.
Blade tried to go to sleep. Feeling lonely, really lonely, for the first time in his life. He wanted Dakota near. Even if she just talked to him. Even if she started telling him what to do with every day he had left on earth.
Deep into the night, he realized he couldn’t sleep because he hurt inside. He felt the pain of her absence and he never felt pain. Only, this time he couldn’t push it away. He couldn’t ignore it. It was too deep.