“No.”
The view of the boy isn’t quite as clear. The picture shows more of Ariana’s face than his. Just some small-town boy.
“That’s Gareth McCormack,” Tom says.
I pick up the book for a closer look.
“I’ll be damned.”
The long hair is gone. The beard. The boy in the picture appears fit but not nearly as muscled as Gareth. Though if I examine the face in profile, I can see the resemblance. The boy in the picture exudes confidence. Ariana is looking up at him dreamily, but the boy isn’t looking at her with quite the same affection. He has a cool air of indifference. He likes her, I can tell that, but not in the way she likes him.
She looks like a girl in love.
He looks like a guy trying to get laid.
Or maybe I’m just trying to project meaning onto his long-ago expression based on who I now know him to be. I feel sick to my stomach. Not just to see her dancing with him. But to see the way she is gazing at him.
“Did she ever mention that they dated?” Tom asks.
“Were they dating?” I say. “Or did they share one dance and the photographer happened to get a good picture?”
He points to the text along the side of the page, a list of the Homecoming Court. Ariana Delgado and Gareth McCormack were the Homecoming queen and king.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” I say. “This was more than ten years ago.”
“You’re probably right,” he says. “But these details are worth your attention.”
I sit back in the seat and flip through the book. Gareth looks to have been a star athlete in football, basketball, and baseball, as well as student body president. Beyond the Homecoming photo, Ariana’s presence at the school is undetectable—except for her listing among students with NO PICTURE AVAILABLE. I flip back to the picture of her and Gareth. It’s stupid to feel jealous, but when you meet someone you really like, you can’t believe she could ever have been interested in someone completely unlike you.
And there couldn’t be two people more different than me and Gareth McCormack.
And why would Ariana not mention to me this past connection?
From the start of this investigation, Ariana asked me always to be honest with her, never to keep her in the dark. But she was keeping something from me all along.
Tom Aaron looks at me gravely. “How confident are you that Ariana isn’t caught up in this somehow?”
Chapter 74
AFTER TALKING TO Tom, I climb into my truck and see another missed call from Dale Peters. I ignore it and head over to Tom and Jessica’s house, where I find Jessica in the garden, pruning rose bushes.
“I went up and down the street,” she says. “I knocked on every door. No one saw anything.”
“Damn it,” I say, flopping into one of the lawn chairs and taking off my hat.
I feel like that was my last chance to find some viable information before heading out of town. I run my fingers through my hair.
“How’s your rash doing?” she asks.
I look at my hands. The rash hasn’t spread, but it hasn’t gone away, either.
“Still itches,” I say. “My mind’s just too preoccupied to notice.”
“Any luck getting to the bottom of what’s going on?”
“No,” I say. “In fact, I’ve been kicked off the case. The chief’s running me out of town. I just broke the news to your husband.”
“You’re not leaving, are you?”
Jessica’s concern is palpable and reconfirms that I need to answer her question—by staying and getting to the bottom of this.
When I first arrived in town, the people here treated me with distrust. Some of them were openly disrespectful. But since then, it seems like the community has warmed up to me. People are nicer in restaurants. Some wave when I drive by. And a few of them, like Jessica and Tom, I’ve gotten to know pretty well. Good people who just want what’s best for this community.
“I’m not going anywhere, Jessica,” I say, rising from my seat. “But I can’t stay at your place anymore.”
“Where are you going to sleep tonight?”
“Better you don’t know.”
It doesn’t take me long to pack up my belongings. When I come back down carrying my duffel bag and guitar case, Jessica gives me a hug and hands me a paper sack full of food.
“Share that with Ariana if you see her,” she says.
“Will do.”
“And stay alive,” she adds. “I expect you to bring that pretty girlfriend of yours by to visit someday.”
I smile and tip my hat to her.
Back in my truck, I drive, but I’m not sure where to go next. Before nightfall I can be easily spotted or followed, so I don’t want to head out to see Ariana before then. My phone rings with another call from Dale Peters, and this time I decide I’ve got time to talk. He’s been a good friend. I’ll miss playing with him and Walt.
“You avoiding my calls, partner?” he says when I pick up.
“Can you blame me?” I quip as I pull my truck over to the side of the road. “Your last singer ditched town completely to get away from you.”
He chuckles.
“I’ve got bad news,” I say. “I’m not going to be able to play with you tonight. Or any other night. I’m leaving town.”
“Leaving town?”
“The Rangers are sending my replacement,” I say.
I expect him to wonder aloud if the new Ranger can sing and play guitar. Instead, he’s quiet for a moment.
“Rory, I ain’t calling so we can get together and play music. I’m calling about Skip.”
My stomach lurches. This could be the break I need.
“Do you know something about Skip’s death?” I ask.
“Hell, Rory, I know everything there is to know. I’m ashamed I ain’t said nothing till now, but I aim to make it right.”
Dale tells me he’s driving one of McCormack’s tankers back to Rio Lobo now. He asks me to meet him at the easement through the open space and gives me exact GPS coordinates.
“Bring Ariana if you can,” he says.
“Why?”
“What do you mean why? ’Cause I got the keys to her freedom, and I want to see the look on her face when she knows. She ain’t never gonna date me, but I like to see her smile, and trust me, bud, she’s gonna be smiling big.”
I urge him to tell me what he has to say over the phone. In this town, witnesses have a tendency to die before they can speak.
“It ain’t just what I got to say,” he says. “It’s what I got to show you.”
Chapter 75
WHEN DALE HANGS up, I put my truck into drive and take off. Dale could be setting a trap for me—and Ariana. He works for McCormack, after all. I could be leading us both into God knows what kind of trouble. Gareth and his soldier buddies could surround us out there in the desert canyons and force us to surrender at gunpoint.
Or kill us.
But I’m not sure I have much of a choice. Dale might be my last hope.
I pull onto Main Street. The harsh glare from the late afternoon sun reflects off the cars parked along the road. Up ahead, I see a pickup truck driving into town.
I recognize it.
It’s just like mine.
I pull over and my lieutenant, Kyle Hendricks, pulls over, too, parking his truck nose to nose with mine. He climbs out, and so do I. We stand in the middle of Main Street, two Texas Rangers with cowboy hats and sidearms, staring at each other like a couple of gunfighters in an old western.
There won’t be any shooting today, but this is a showdown nonetheless.
“Yates, you sure fucked up this time,” he says. “Every Ranger in the state, from the rookies picking their noses at their desks all the way up to the company commander, knows you screwed the pooch on this one. My lord, how the golden boy has fallen from grace.”
“Kyle,” I say, “I’ve had about enough of your bullshit.”
“Fine,” he says. “I’ll take your gun and
badge right now. You can sign your resignation papers tomorrow at headquarters. Otherwise, you’re going to have to keep taking my bullshit.”
“I’m not resigning,” I say. “If anyone should turn in his star, it’s you. You’ve been acting like a damn baby ever since the shooting in the bank. Grow up. Act like a Texas Ranger, for Christ’s sake.”
“Act like a Texas Ranger? That’s rich coming from you. Hothead Rory Yates always bending the rules to suit his needs. Your old lieutenant gave you too long of a leash. I’m just trying to keep you in line.”
I can see I’m getting nowhere, so I try to shift gears.
“You don’t know what you’re getting into here in Rio Lobo. This thing is a lot bigger than it seems.”
“It seems simple enough to me,” he says. “One woman died of an allergy. Case closed. And the local detective you been running around with shot and killed an oil worker. Case closed. I’ll be out of here by this time tomorrow.”
“That’s exactly what they want you to do.” I point to the graffiti on my truck door. “You see that? They’ve been trying to get me out of this town since I got here. You’re just playing into their hands.”
“They?” he says. “Who exactly is they?”
“I’m not sure,” I say, “but I think the local oil baron—”
He silences me with a wave of his arm. “Chief Harris told me all about your wild conspiracy theories. But I think the truth is a lot simpler. Carson McCormack’s son beat you in some kind of shooting match, and now you’re out to get him.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I say. “And the chief’s probably in on it.”
He shakes his head to dismiss my harebrained suspicion, but the anger in his demeanor is flagging. He feels like he’s won the fight and now he can play the role of a tough mentor, instead of the jealous peer that he is.
“Go home, Rory. The media loves you for that quick-draw maneuver in the bank. You’ve still got a decent career ahead of you if you play your cards right. Messing around with some female detective who turned out to be a murderer could be just a blip on your record. That is, if you don’t pursue this any further.”
“She didn’t do it,” I say, although after I saw the picture of Ariana dancing with Gareth McCormack at their high school Homecoming, I’m less sure than ever.
If I had seen that picture two days ago, would I have helped her escape?
“Do you know where she is?” Kyle asks. “You better not be hiding her, Rory.”
If I tell Kyle where she is, maybe I can get back into his good graces and help figure this thing out from within the lines of the law. This might be my last chance to save my future with the Rangers.
But I just can’t do it. I can’t sell out Ariana.
“You win,” I say to Kyle. “I’ll leave town. I’ll go crawling back to Waco and let you finish things here.”
He nods his head as if to say, You’re damn right you’re leaving.
“But before I go,” I say, “I’ve got just one thing to say.”
He waits. I step close to him and stare him down.
“It’s not your fault you were sleeping in the truck that day,” I say. “If I’d have known something illegal was going on inside that bank, I would have told you. You came running as soon as you heard the shot. You did everything right. But you’re sleepwalking on the job right now, and I’m telling you to wake the hell up. If this all comes crashing down, that’s on you. You’ll be a laughingstock all over again, and this time it will be your fault.”
“Get out of here, you son of a bitch,” he barks. “That’s a goddamn order.”
I climb into my truck and pull out into the street. I stop when my window is right next to him. I reach out and point to the star on his chest.
“It means something to wear that badge,” I say. “Don’t you ever forget it.”
Then I hit the gas and take off before he can get the last word in.
Chapter 76
I DRIVE OUT to the spot on the river where Ariana and I met last night, but she’s nowhere to be seen. There are fresh ATV tracks all over the place. When I walk closer to the river, I spot shell casings lying in the dirt.
I put on a pair of gloves and pick up one of the casings. WINCHESTER 223 REM is stamped on the bottom. The rounds could have been fired from an AR-15, and there are enough shells to suggest that it was equipped with a bump stock or had been converted to fully automatic. Whatever was on the receiving end of these shots, it would have been turned into swiss cheese.
I just pray to God it wasn’t Ariana.
I scan the hills for blood or any sign of bullet holes, but I don’t see anything.
Did they take her?
But then I have another thought. What if this is just some elaborate trick? Are they making it look like Ariana was shot when she’s actually in on it?
I spot something in a clump of sagebrush and investigate. It’s my sleeping bag and the sack of food I brought to Ariana, hidden away. But there’s nothing else, no sign of her.
I look around, my heart pounding. Above me, a hawk screeches as it glides through the blue sky. Otherwise the whole area is silent. The sun is still a couple of hours from setting, but shadows have already fallen across the canyon.
I don’t want to draw attention to myself—not if McCormack’s men are nearby—but I don’t know what else to do but call out to her.
“Ariana!” I shout, just loud enough to hear an echo calling back to me through the canyon.
I hear splashing in the river and look down to see Ariana wading out from under the cut bank.
“Rory?” she gasps, looking up at me. “I thought it was them again. They’ve been crisscrossing this area all day.”
She swims over to the bank and climbs out of the water. Her hair is mud slicked and her once white T-shirt is now the color of chocolate milk.
I throw my arms around her in a big hug. Her body is ice-cold, her trembling arms covered in goose bumps.
“Thank God,” I say, feeling guilty for thinking that she might have been double-crossing me. “What the hell happened?”
She says McCormack’s men have been patrolling in ATVs. They finally left for good about an hour ago, but when she heard a vehicle coming, she thought they were trying again, this time in a truck.
“I hadn’t expected you until after dark,” she says.
As she talks, she tries to catch her breath and can’t.
I give her a minute to breathe and then ask, “What about the rifle rounds?”
“They shot a snake,” she says. “They said they’d do the same to me if they found me.”
I get an old shirt out of my lock box and give it to her to try to dry off and wipe away some of the mud.
“I must be a sight,” she says, wiping dirty water from her face.
“You’re as beautiful as ever,” I say, and I mean it.
I’m still trying to get my emotions under control after fearing she was dead—or that she might have betrayed me.
“What are you doing here?” she says, dumping water out of her boots. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve got bad news and what I hope is good news,” I say.
I explain to her about being replaced by my lieutenant, how he and Harris both warned me to get out of town.
“I was told in no uncertain terms that if I step foot in Rio Lobo, I’ll be arrested.”
“Damn it,” Ariana says, “they’ve really got us, don’t they?”
“Maybe not,” I say.
I tell her about Dale Peters and how he has something to show us that will help the investigation.
“The GPS coordinates are about a mile and a half from here, over along the access road McCormack and his men have been using.”
“Are you sure you can trust Dale?” she asks. “McCormack is the one who signs his paychecks.”
“My gut tells me we can trust him,” I say, “but I’ve been wrong before.”
Chapter 77
“WHAT ARE WE waitin
g on?” Ariana says. “Let’s go see what Dale has for us.”
She’s right. We should hurry. We have only about an hour or so of daylight left. But there’s something I want to get off my chest before we drive out there.
“What is it?” she says, sensing something is on my mind.
“Why didn’t you tell me you dated Gareth McCormack?” I ask.
A wave of emotions rolls across her face.
First confusion.
Then embarrassment.
Then anger.
“You’re still not sure about me, are you?” she says, her voice trembling with betrayal. “You’re still wondering if I’m somehow involved in this?”
She steps away from me and walks in a circle, shaking her head incredulously.
“I can’t believe this,” she says, clenching her hands into fists. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through today? And you think that I have something to do with all this?”
My patience cracks.
“I helped you escape,” I say, raising my voice. “I put my badge on the line for you. I’m putting my life on the line. For you.”
“You’re the one who convinced me to run,” she snaps. “I’d be better off in jail than I am out here.”
Her words hit me hard. I think about what kind of danger I’ve put her in. If she gets killed, it’s on me.
“Besides,” she says, “it’s no one’s business who I’ve dated.”
“You’ve been keeping a secret from me,” I say, trying to calm my nerves. “Gareth McCormack is at the top of a very short suspects list. You can’t tell me it’s not relevant that the two of you were Homecoming king and queen.”
Ariana turns away, walks to the water’s edge. Her clothes and hair are still soaked. I hate that I’ve confronted her with this when she’s been hiding all day from people who would kill her. But this is the only time I have to ask. I can’t wait.
“I was afraid you’d take me off the case,” Ariana says, her voice subdued now. “If you found out I’d dated Gareth, you might say there was a conflict of interest. I didn’t want to risk that. This is my case. I’m the one who believes Susan Snyder was murdered. To be barred from the investigation because of some stupid high school romance wouldn’t have been fair.”
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