Chapter 21
Alan didn’t think he lost consciousness for more than a couple of minutes, all told. Fire eating at his shoulder made him wish he was still out.
“I can’t see him.” Chase’s voice, raw with fury, helped drag Alan all the way to consciousness. “How’s Alan?”
“Shot.” Alan thought it was time to join the conversation but his one-word contribution didn’t sound as strong as he would have liked.
“He took one the shoulder. I think the bullet’s still in there, because I can’t see an exit wound,” Peter said. “Our shooter is likely hiding on that rise about a quarter of a mile to the northeast, the one with those bushes on it. See it? At least, judging from the way Alan began to fall, that’s where I think he is.”
“How many shots did you count? I had five.” Julián asked.
“Five,” Chase said.
“Yes, five.” Peter echoed the number.
“Who else got hit?” There, that sounded stronger.
“You were the sole winner of that lottery, pal.” Chase looked over at him. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were so accident prone? First you took on the barbed wire and lost, and now this.”
Alan choked back a laugh. “Never used to be accident prone. Must be this ranch of yours. You trespassing on some ancient sacred Anasazi ruins, bossman?”
“Yeah, ruins, that’s gotta be it,” Chase said. “What the hell do we do now? Somebody want to draw his fire? Then we can at least see where the bastard is.”
“Well, Benedict, you’re the odd man out,” Julián said. “You’re the only one among us not to get shot in recent times. So I say, it’s your turn.”
“You’re a funny guy, Alvarez.”
“Nobody’s gonna draw that bastard’s fire. I’m calling for backup.” Peter’s tone brooked no argument. That was fine with Alan. He sure as hell didn’t want anyone else to get hurt.
“Your brother is just no fun,” Chase said to Julián.
“That’s not what his husband and his wife says,” Julián countered.
Alan was all the way awake now, and took stock. He was lying on his back on the rough ground, and he hurt everywhere, but especially his left shoulder.
He could hear Peter on his cell phone, and understood he was talking to his brother-in-law, the sheriff. Chase scuttled along the ground toward him, and had a look at his shoulder.
“I don’t think it hit a vein because you’re not bleeding fast. But let’s see if we can wrap it up anyway and staunch what blood you are losing.”
“You ever give a field dressing before?” Alan asked. “’Cause I don’t want to survive being shot just to die under your not-so-tender mercies.”
Peter disconnected his call. “Shit, Wilson, you fit right in here,” he said. “Adam’s coming in by chopper, should be no more than ten minutes. He’s bringing Jordan, who’s the best sharpshooter in the family. If that bastard is still there, Jordan will get him.”
Chase and Peter worked together to cut some of Alan’s shirt—which Peter had already torn to examine his wound—in order to make a binding for his shoulder. It wasn’t the best field dressing ever, but it would hopefully staunch the bleeding. Then Chase took out his cell phone and called Brian.
Alan figured that within the hour, the whole of Lusty would know what was going on out here in the north pasture. Then his cell phone vibrated. He pulled it out of his right jeans pocket, figuring it was Duncan…but the caller ID read Ted Miller.
“Yo.” Alan thought the temperature had turned cool in the last few minutes.
“Wilson, guess what? I’ve located Mary Ellen Potsy. Stupid bitch used the credit card we kept open for her just for this very purpose. Anyway, the woman checked into the Be There Motor Inn a couple miles west of Waco a few days ago. Looks like she’s headed your way, pal.”
“Hell, Miller, that’s what I call a tip that’s a day late and a dollar short,” Alan said.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m lying here in the north pasture waiting for the sheriff because I’ve been shot, that’s what I mean.”
“Huh. I’d have expected the bitch to come at you with a knife, not shoot you. Is she still alive?”
“Likely. Near as we can tell, she’s still holed up about a quarter mile from here. She must be toting a long range sniper rifle, the fucking bitch.”
“No way. She’s got bad eyes. No way she could have shot you from that far out, even with a good scope.”
“Oh, hell.” The pieces fell into place, and it made a sick kind of sense. Dead animals…only cows this time, instead of racehorses. “I think her buddy Doctor Death is on the other end of that rifle, then. He lured us out here with a few dead cows.”
He felt Chase go still beside him, and then the man swore.
“I’m calling your sheriff,” Miller said. “Potsy must be at that hotel waiting for him to come back.” Then, “You okay? You sound funny.”
“Maybe I sound funny because I’ve been shot?”
“Shit, you said that. Tell me you’re not all alone out there.”
“No, I’m not alone. But I’m tired of talkin’ to you right now. Help’s on its way.” Alan clicked off his phone and then lay back and closed his eyes.
“Miller figure’s it’s those two you were telling us about? That animal killer and his accomplice?”
“Yeah. Fuck, man, I’m so sorry. I never really believed she’d come after us. And because I didn’t take the threat seriously, you’ve got dead cattle.”
Chase barely let him finish. “The only SOB to blame here is the sick bastard who thinks nothing of killing—animals or people. We’ll get him. Now, shut up, Wilson. That’s an order.”
“You’ve gotten real good at that boss thing,” Julián said, obviously talking to Chase. “Personally, this is a proud moment for me. My son, today you are a man.”
“You’re such a smart-ass, Alvarez.” Chase’s voice, despite the seriousness of the situation, sounded almost like a laugh.
“Yeah,” Julián said. “Smart-ass runs in the family.”
* * * *
Holly was grateful to have Grandma Kate and Jacqui on either side of her in the backseat of the cruiser as Matthew drove them to the Benedict’s ranch. He hadn’t been specific with the details, except to say that Alan had been hurt. If it was serious, wouldn’t it have been better for them to have waited at the clinic for him? And if it wasn’t serious, why was Matthew—Deputy Sheriff Matthew Benedict—playing chauffeur?
Unless taking Alan to the clinic wouldn’t help him.
Chills racked her as that unbidden thought attacked. Holly mentally pushed it away with every bit of strength she possessed. She would not think that. Better to turn off her thoughts altogether than to imagine a world without Alan Wilson in it.
I didn’t tell him that I love him. I didn’t tell either of those men that I love them. Damn it, what was I waiting for?
A sob escaped. Holly tried to breathe deep and get control of her fear.
Grandma Kate reached over and took her hand. The woman’s grip was surprisingly strong. “Don’t overthink the moment,” she said. “We’ll be there soon. Then we’ll know what’s what. But, sweet girl? No matter what we find out, you’re not alone. We’re all here for you.”
“I know.” Holly didn’t think she’d ever been so frightened, and yet at the same time more aware that she indeed was not alone.
Jacqui took hold of her other hand. “I’m thinking good thoughts, Aunt Holly. He’s going to be fine.”
Holly was grateful for Jacqui’s thinking good thoughts, because she couldn’t seem to be rid of the fear.
Then Matthew was taking the long driveway that led to the ranch house. Holly saw the people standing about, and the paramedic’s truck. There was no frantic rushing around on the part of the paramedics, or anyone else. Everyone seemed frozen in place, and looking toward the northeast.
As the cruiser pulled to a stop, Duncan turned and came toward her. He o
pened the door and helped Grandma Kate out of the vehicle, first. And then Holly was out of the car and in his arms.
“He’s going to be all right, sweetheart. His shoulder is wounded. But he’s going to be all right. Please don’t cry, baby.”
Holly pushed back to meet his gaze. She hadn’t realized she was crying. Duncan wiped at her tears as she tried to process what else he’d said. “His shoulder is wounded? Did he get thrown from his horse?”
“No, baby. He’s been shot. Adam Kendall is in the helicopter and they’re going to bring Alan right here. The paramedics are on hand, and we’ll follow them to the clinic. Okay?”
Duncan’s tone and the strength of his hold on her stilled her worst fears. With terror gone, her mind began to work again. “What do you mean, he’s been shot? By whom?” Then she knew. “Oh, God! That crazy bitch you told me about? The one who just got out of jail for that racing horse scandal?”
“Yeah. But we think she hooked up with that sick bastard who escaped arrest the first time, the man who actually murdered those horses.”
Just then the sound of a helicopter caught everyone’s attention. The paramedics stood ready, at either end of a stretcher, and as soon as the copter touched down about a hundred yards from the barn, they ran toward it. The door opened and Peter Alvarez-Kendall jumped out onto the ground first, and then turned and helped Alan down.
Holly and Duncan didn’t speak, they just ran. Alan was standing! That had to be good. Even before she reached him, she could hear his griping. Relief at hearing his voice, seeing him there, alive, nearly buckled her knees.
“I don’t need a damn stretcher. I can walk.”
“Sorry, cowboy. Department policy. Mount up.” Warren Jessop sounded as if would take no argument. Holly agreed with Warren completely.
Alan looked up and saw Holly, and he must have seen the tracks of her tears. “Aw, honey, don’t cry. I’m going to be fine.”
“Then prove it, wrangler. Get on the damn stretcher.” She didn’t know where that take-charge tone had been hiding, but she thought this was the perfect moment for it to make an appearance.
“Okay, honey.” He looked from her to Duncan. “I’ll get on the stretcher because you asked me to.”
“Jeez, Wilson, you have a lot to learn. That wasn’t a request, it was an order, the kind you better learn fast to follow if you want domestic harmony.” Peter Alvarez Kendall stood back while the paramedics got Alan situated. He looked into the chopper and nodded, then slammed the door.
Holly looked into the copter. Adam still sat beside Henry, and she guessed they were likely going to be taking the helicopter back to the airfield.
The paramedics strapped Alan onto the stretcher, and then, with the help of Peter and Duncan, carried it over the grass and rocks, toward the waiting EMT vehicle. Holly managed to keep up, and when Alan reached with his right hand for her, she gave him hers.
Once they arrived beside their vehicle, the paramedics released the wheels, letting the stretcher stand on its own. The noise of the helicopter taking off drowned out talk until it was high and headed east. “We’re just going to take some vitals, get an IV started, and then transport you to the clinic,” Warren said. “Ed will sit in back with you. Dr. Robert’s been notified and is waiting.” He looked over at Duncan and then met Holly’s gaze. “Why don’t you two head on over there now?”
Duncan came over and held Holly’s other hand. “We’ll wait ’til you’re underway and follow you,” he said.
Grandma Kate stepped up to the other side of the stretcher, her concern for Alan plain. “Robert will take good care of you, Alan. He’s very skilled.”
“Yes, ma’am. He did a fine job on my torn-up hand a few weeks ago.”
Alan sounded tired. Holly guessed he was in a lot of pain. He still held her hand, so she rubbed her thumb over the back of his.
His light squeeze in return reassured her.
“Oh, man. That’s what Chase meant about you being accident prone.” Then Peter smiled. “Thanks, Wilson. I think I’ve finally heard the last about being shot twice within a couple of months.”
Grandma Kate looked up at Peter. “Maybe you have at that. Peter, what happened out there?”
Peter quickly related the events from the moment Carrie reported the dead cows to the moment he called for backup.
“It didn’t take Henry more than six minutes to get to us. But that was enough time for the shooter to hightail it. In the interim, Ted Miller had called to tell Alan that the Potsy woman was checked into a motel outside of Waco. Adam called the State Police, and is on his way to meet up with them now. He’ll let us know as soon as they have her in custody.”
“I’m grateful no one else was hurt,” Kate said, “and that Alan wasn’t hurt more seriously.”
“So am I.” Alan sighed. “I’m grateful to be alive.”
“Grandma Kate? It’s time to load Alan into the van,” Edward said. “Do you want to ride back to Lusty with us?”
“No, I’ll wait for the men to come back. If I know my grandson, Chase, he’s going to be feeling the burden of responsibility over this.”
“You know him well,” Peter said.
Holly bent over and gave Alan a kiss. Despite his bravado she knew he was really hurting. “We’ll see you at the clinic.”
She and Duncan practically ran to his truck. It didn’t take long for them to get moving, and in just a couple of minutes they were right behind the EMT vehicle.
Duncan reached for her hand and she held on tight. “He’s going to be fine, sweetheart. I think he was more pissed than in pain.”
Holly’s smile felt weak even to herself. “No, he was hurting. I’ve heard Dr. Robert’s a trauma surgeon and used to work at an inner city hospital in Chicago.”
“I heard the same thing.”
“Good.” For the first time since Matthew approached her at Lusty Appetites, Holly took a calm, deep breath. “That means he’s no stranger to bullet wounds. And I know he takes being a doctor very seriously.” She let her gaze wander out the window. Alan was going to be all right. She refused to believe otherwise.
Chapter 22
Oscar Tooms was on a tight schedule but didn’t let it show. He needed to be gone from here before the cops dug those slugs out of the bodies.
“Have another, baby. Let’s get this celebration started!” He poured some whisky in Mary Ellen’s glass. He met her gaze as he poured, ensuring that she kept her gaze on him and not the hand that held the bottle. The drug he released into her glass would dissolve instantly, the taste hidden by the strong flavor of the good Kentucky bourbon.
“I can’t believe they’re gone. My God, baby, I feel as if I have a whole new life. Thank you!” She reached for him, and he went, letting her kiss him and returning her kiss full out.
Then he eased his lips away from hers and said, “Let’s have a toast.”
“Okay. How about, to starting over?”
He read the bit of calculation in her eyes, but didn’t really worry about it. Mary Ellen couldn’t look at any man—even him, her first lover—with anything except calculation.
That was just how she was made.
He added an “amen” to her words, because he was really starting over, which was going to be a serious bummer for her.
But then, that was just how he was made.
He’d fired five shots, one for each of the four riders, and one for good measure. Through the scope he’d seen Wilson fall, and when he’d put his attention back on the others, they were all down, too. The lay of the land prevented him from really seeing them, but he hadn’t really needed to, nor had he had time to.
Maybe he hadn’t killed all four of those men, but he’d bet he scored at least half. Now, he had just one more loose end to deal with.
“I feel the same way,” he said, returning to the moment. “About us starting over. I figured, we ought to relocate. I have a plan, baby. What do you think of Hawaii?”
“Hawaii?”
> “Sure, why not? You know how much money I have set aside.” He’d freely shown her his bank accounts, and even given her the passwords—securing her complete trust in him. It was just a damn shame she wouldn’t live long enough to ever think to use those passwords to access his stash. He smiled at her. “You and me, we can live like royalty there for the rest of our lives.” He continued to weave the tale for her. “I know a guy who can give us brand-new identities. We’ll get ourselves a nice place, with a view of the ocean. Just you and me, baby. Wouldn’t you like that?” Mary Ellen had been drinking while he spoke, and he kept his gaze on her eyes. He knew what to look for, and nearly grinned when her expression went from guarded, to relaxed.
“Yes.” She sighed and took another drink. “Just you and me. A new beginning.” Her words slurred slightly, but she didn’t seem to notice.
She was almost where he needed her to be. “You could forget all about the last five years. It’s all gone now, baby. I got those bastards back for you, and now it’s time for you to just let everything go.”
“Yes. All…” He caught her glass as she released it, as her body became completely lax in the chair. “Aw, baby, I shouldn’t have made you drink those two shots on an empty stomach.” There was no need to let her know what he was going to do to her. He wasn’t, after all, a cruel man.
Just a practical one.
“Drunk.” Her slight frown told him the drug hadn’t completely incapacitated her. Her mind was still working. But that was all right. Her muscles weren’t working very well. That was all that mattered to him.
“Yes, you are, baby. And it’s all my fault. I’m going to lay you on the bed. A little nap is all you need to feel good again.” He lifted her, and laid her out, and then placed a gentle kiss on her lips. A kiss good-bye.
She’d been his only loose thread for the last seven years. And while he’d been reasonably certain she wouldn’t rat him out, he’d sweated anyway. He’d taken care of Wilson and Moore, not because he believed her claim that they were hunting him, but just as an added precaution—and yes, maybe as a bit of revenge for himself.
Love Under Two Wranglers [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Ménage Everlasting) Page 19