Michele: I talked to Lacey. Call me.
She will. Later. Right now, she’s too anxious. She makes three more laps of the hospital, then runs into Paco, Andy, and Gene on the ground floor.
“Cops are looking for you.” Gene gestures toward the waiting room.
“Thanks. I think.” She enters. Buffalo Detective Lacey and Sheridan County Deputy Travis. A cross-jurisdictional dream team. She raises a hand in a sort-of wave.
They walk across the room toward her. Sheila is nowhere to be seen.
Maggie tries to muster up the energy to deal with all of this, but her voice is dull. “I heard you were looking for me.”
Lacey nods, his white-blond hair swinging forward, in need of a cut. “Let’s take this out in the hall.”
She leads them, then turns.
Lacey hikes a thumb at Travis. “Sheridan County brought Rudy in. He’s in the hospital here.”
She sags against the wall. “Thank you.” Light-headed, she leans over with her hands on her knees.
“An arrow was still in him. If the shot were an inch further to his right, he’d be dead.”
Maggie curses her bad aim, but she simply nods.
“Your arrow?”
“Yes. He shot Hank and he was coming at me with a rifle.”
“Did he point it at you?”
“Yes. Did you find it?”
Travis moves closer, his big presence oddly comforting. “Yes. In the doorway, where you said it would be.”
“Good.”
“It had a name engraved on it. Hank Sibley.”
Maggie sighs. “A .300 Winchester Magnum.”
“How’d you know that?”
“It was stolen from my cabin.”
Travis scowls at her. “You left that out of the list of items you gave me yesterday.”
“I’m sorry.” She makes a gesture at the world in general. “My brain was fried. Still is.”
“Having all the information helps us solve crimes faster.”
“At Rudy’s, you saw the other stuff, right? The strap he stole from me at the Double S? The stuff about me posted everywhere?”
“We saw it all. It was compelling as to motive in a few recent events.”
Maggie snorts. “Just a little. That rifle. Have you confirmed it was the one that shot Hank?”
“We have people looking into that right now.”
“I think it will be the same one that shot Patrick Rhodes, too. And Wolf, too.”
“Who’s Wolf?”
“Hank’s horse.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Anyway, it’s roughly the same caliber rifle that shot all three, as you seem to know.”
“I only know what my gut’s telling me.”
Travis says, “We saw the pictures of you with Chet and Patrick, too. And Hank.” He points at her waist. “I see you found your belt buckle.”
“I’m sorry. It was at Rudy’s. I didn’t think, just grabbed it as I ran out. It means a lot to me.”
The cop and deputy look at each other.
Travis says, “I wish you hadn’t done that, but we can let it slide.”
“I guess I’ll need to come in and give a statement?”
“At some point. You’ve got other fish to fry today.”
“Thank you.”
“But first, we have something we need to talk to you about.”
Maggie pushes off her legs and stands again. She presses the back of her hand against her forehead. “What now?”
“We found something else at Rudy’s. Chet Moore’s wallet.”
“He didn’t get it from my cabin. I never touched it.”
Lacey puts a hand on her elbow. “There are fingerprints all over it.”
“You’re kidding me, right? You’re coming back at me again, after everything you saw at Rudy’s? I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
Travis puts a hand up. In a voice so soft it seems impossible that it comes from a man of his size, he says, “You’re misunderstanding us. Rudy’s fingerprints were all over it. Yours weren’t.”
For a moment, she’s confused. How did they check for her prints? But then she remembers. Her fingerprints are on file from old drug arrests. She never thought she’d be glad for her past, but she is now. Rock solid evidence tying Rudy to Chet. “That’s better.”
Lacey nods. “And we had the Whitefeathers in for questioning. They remembered seeing Rudy in the hotel parking lot after you and Chet went inside.”
Travis smiles at her. “Between you and me and the fence post, there’s no doubt you didn’t kill Chet Moore, or that Rudy is the one who did. Or that he took your stuff and, yes, killed Patrick Rhodes.”
“It’s about time.” She lets her head fall back against the wall with a crack.
“And if you ever want a job,” Lacey adds, “you should apply with the Buffalo PD. You did a great job on the case this week. You really stirred up some shit with your voicemail.”
“But I didn’t figure it out until it was too late, and then only by nearly getting Hank killed.” And she still doesn’t have any idea how Rudy managed the break-ins in Texas at the same time as the break-ins in Wyoming. Or if he even had anything to do with them or the sabotage of her truck. But those are problems to solve another day. For now, the mess here is untangling from her and from Hank, and that’s enough.
“You figured out more than we did. As your attorney stressed several times when she was reading me the riot act earlier.”
Ah, yes. Michele did talk to Lacey. Maggie almost smiles. How she loves her Chihuahua-size friend with the chops of a pit bull.
“Maggie?” Gene’s voice interrupts.
The officers step aside for Gene and Laura.
Maggie throws her arms around the short cowboy. “Do you have an update?”
“We do. He’s going to be fine. You saved him, Maggie.”
Maggie shakes her head. “More like I nearly got him killed.” She buries her face in his shoulder. “It was my fault. Hank getting shot. Chet dying. Patrick. They were my fault, too. Everything is my fault.”
“Not everything.” He pats her.
She turns her face to him like he’s the sun in December. “Nearly.”
“What are you talking about?” Laura asks. “What did you do, Maggie?”
Gene’s voice is firm and his face hard. He faces Laura. “She solved the murders and saved Hank’s life.”
“She said it was her fault.”
“She’s very much mistaken about that, as you’ll hear confirmed from law enforcement if you don’t believe me.”
Laura glances at Lacey and Travis, who are still close enough to hear every word. Both men nod.
Laura lifts her hands. “I’m sorry. I’m on edge. Worried about my brother.”
Gene shrugs. “It’s okay. We all are.”
Maggie grabs Gene’s elbow, pulling him away from Laura and bumping into Lacey as she does. “Gene, I was wrong.”
Gene pushes her back and holds her by the shoulders. “Wrong about?”
“Hank. Me and him. Us. I can’t let Sheila have him. We belong together.”
Gene smiles. “Don’t tell me. Tell him.”
“I sort of told him I loved him earlier. When I thought he was going to die.”
Gene chuckles.
“But, Gene, I don’t deserve him. Even that annoying twit Sheila deserves him more than me.”
Behind her, Lacey laughs. Maggie turns and glares at him.
He wipes the mirth from his face. “We’ll just be getting out of your way.”
Travis says, “I’ll call you about a statement. That’s all for now. Good luck, Ms. Killian.”
The two law enforcement officers retreat down the hall and out of sight.
Gene shakes his head at Maggie. “Love isn’t about deserving.”
Maggie sniffs and wipes her eyes. “I’m a dangerous person. I hurt everyone. Hank especially.”
“But you really love him, don’t you?”
“Then you should let him know. Not when he’s bleeding to death on a mountain. Let him decide whether you’re too dangerous for him. He’s always been something of a risk taker.” Gene winks.
Maggie laughs.
Pounding feet interrupt the moment. Sheila sprints down the hall toward them, ponytail bouncing.
“Where has she been?” Maggie asks.
Gene whispers. “They moved Hank to recovery.”
Laura moves in to rejoin their conversation. “She forced her way in when I went out to talk to Gene.”
Sheila practically skips up to Laura, Gene, and Maggie.
“What is it?” Laura asks. “Good news about Hank?”
She beams. “We’re getting married. Hank and I are getting married! My Hanky Panky’s going to be a daddy!”
Laura and Gene gawk at the girl.
Sheila is having a baby? Maggie takes a deep breath. Yes, Maggie is dangerous. She’s not the best person in the world. But even a mess like her won’t wreck this for Hank. Fatherhood. It’s bigger than her. It’s more important than her feelings. Hank’s girlfriend is pregnant. Maggie loses.
She chokes the words out like a hairball, but she does say them. “Congratulations, Sheila.”
“I have to go call my mother.” Sheila runs out toward the lobby, her phone to her ear.
After she’s gone, Gene says, “Well, son of a bitch.”
Laura looks conflicted. “Hank’s always wanted children. Maybe this is a good thing?”
Head buzzing, Maggie takes a deep breath. She pulls the belt and buckle from her waist and hands them to Gene.
He pushes them back to her. “Don’t, Maggie.”
“I’m not getting in the way of that.” She looks straight into Laura’s dark eyes. “No matter what anybody here thinks of me, I’m better than that.”
Laura looks at Gene, then back at Maggie. Tears glisten in her eyes. “I’ve never—”
Maggie shakes her head. “Just stop, Laura. You’re his sister. I get it.”
She squares her shoulders, lifts her chin, and walks away. Past Sheila jabbering on the phone, past Paco and Andy hovering over coffee cups near the front door, all the way to the parking lot, all the way to Bess.
Maggie stalls, letting Louise out for a potty break and dumping her water bowl, then putting her back in the truck. What she’s waiting for, she can’t say. She knows she can’t be waiting on Hank. He’s in a recovery room bed. Engaged to Sheila. With a baby on the way. He’s not coming after her. She and Hank are through. After fifteen years, she’s truly lost him.
A tall woman with long black hair in a low ponytail and some kind of buckskin-colored suede pants and matching top eyes Maggie good as she walks toward the hospital. Maggie watches her go, feeling a magnet pull to follow her back inside. To beg Hank to change his mind, be a daddy to his child, but to love her. To make it okay for her to stay. Which is insane. When all she has wanted for the last week is to be gone from this godforsaken state of pain. Her heart is just playing tricks on her mind.
Well, she’s too smart to fall for her own shit.
She’s going to get her trailer of junk and go home. She’ll make it there in time for the fall antique show. Fix up her shop. Browbeat Junior until he solves her case. Smooth things over with Gary. Shower Michele with appreciation. Hug her goats. Eat with the only father she’ll have for the rest of her life. Let her mom tell her whatever secret it is she’s dying to get out. Yes, that’s what’s going to happen. And she’s not going to cry a single tear, because Hank is going to be happy, something she could probably never make him—not as mercurial and dangerous as she is, as they are—and she is not going to screw that up.
But she waits another five minutes anyway. The sunlight is incandescent on the mountain range with its jagged black teeth chomping at the sky. She breathes in the scent of the Russian olive trees wafting up from the creek one last time—the invaders on their way out, like her—and savors the fingers of wind in her unruly hair.
When no one and nothing stops her, she reaches in the half-open window and ruffles Louise’s ears. “It’s just you and me now, Fucker.”
She hops in, eyes dry, and puts the truck in gear, pointing Bess toward the interstate, south and home to Texas.
Do you like free stuff?
Do you like free stuff, exclusives, and finding out about new books before they hit the market?
* * *
Click here to become a PFH Superstar.
* * *
Plus, you’ll get to know all of the kick-ass women sleuths from the entire What Doesn't Kill You romantic mystery series.
Acknowledgments
The Maggie books are set one foot in Texas and the other in Wyoming, while Maggie’s life is a little bit junker and a little bit rock and roll. My own love affair with Wyoming started at an early age when my family moved to Buffalo. Then my parents “ruined my life forever” by moving us back to Texas a few years later. I didn’t return to Wyoming until 2014, and then only because I took Eric for his first visit in July, as opposed to January. My mama didn’t raise no fool.
Two cabins later, my Virgin Islands–native husband drives a snowplow and owns more coats than his famous sandals. I wrote all the Maggie stories from our Snowheresville, Wyoming, in a big, beautiful, remote, off-the-grid, and, above all, rustic cabin on the eastern face of the Bighorn Mountains. It’s not easy shuttling between two homes in Texas and one in Wyoming, but Eric does it with a smile on his face and adventure in his heart. I am beginning to think he loves me.
The animals in this book are based on Pippin, one of our granddogs, and Katniss, my Percheron cross mare. The truck, Bess, and store, Flown the Coop, are rooted in the lives of Tiffany and Jeff, who live near our Nowheresville, Texas. I am grateful to a colorful cast of Wyoming characters (Jeff, Christina, Brenton, Colter, Mandy, Travis, Ron, Eric, and many others) for endless anecdotes. Thanks for the inspiration, all of you!
Thanks to my husband, Eric, for brainstorming the Maggie stories with me despite his busy work, travel, and workout schedule. He puts up with me recycling bits and pieces of our lives in the stories as well. I’d say he does it without reservation, but that would be a lie. I guess that makes it even more remarkable that he smiles about it in the end.
Thanks to our five offspring. I love you guys more than anything, and each time I write a parent/child (birth, adopted, foster, or step), I channel you.
To each and every blessed reader, I appreciate you more than I can say. It is the readers who move mountains for me, and for other authors, and I humbly ask for the honor of your honest reviews and recommendations.
Thanks mucho to Bobbye and Rhonda for putting up with my eccentric and ever-changing needs.
Maggie editing credits go to Rhonda Erb and Whitney Cox. The beta and advance readers and critique partners who enthusiastically devote their time—gratis—to help us rid my books of flaws blow me away. The special love this time goes to Angie, Caren, Pat, Tara, Karen, Ken, Kelly, Vidya, Ginger, Mandy, Susan, Jim, Ridgely, Melissa and Linda.
Thank you Alayah Frazier, for working with Bobbye to create amazing vector art for the covers, as we took Maggie into (for What Doesn’t Kill You) uncharted visual territory.
SkipJack Publishing now includes fantastic books by a cherry-picked bushel basket of mystery/thriller/suspense writers. If you write in this genre, visit http://SkipJackPublishing.com for submission guidelines. To check out our other authors and snag a bargain at the same time, download Murder, They Wrote: Four SkipJack Mysteries.
About the Author
Pamela Fagan Hutchins is a USA Today best seller. She writes award-winning romantic mysteries from deep in the heart of Nowheresville, Texas and way up in the frozen north of Snowheresville, Wyoming. She is passionate about long hikes with her hunky husband and pack of rescue dogs and riding her gigantic horses.
* * *
If you'd like Pamela to speak to your book club, women's club
, class, or writers group, by Skype or in person, shoot her an email. She's very likely to say yes.
* * *
You can connect with Pamela via her website
(http://pamelafaganhutchins.com)
or email ([email protected]).
Other Books by the Author
Fiction from SkipJack Publishing
The What Doesn't Kill You Romantic Mystery Series
Act One (Prequel, Ensemble Novella)
Saving Grace (Katie #1)
Leaving Annalise (Katie #2)
The Jumbie House:
(Katie Short Story/Expanded Excerpt from Leaving Annalise)
Finding Harmony (Katie #3)
Heaven to Betsy (Emily #1)
Earth to Emily (Emily #2)
Hell to Pay (Emily #3)
Bombshell (Ava #1)
Stunner (Ava #2)
Knockout (Ava #3)
Going for Kona (Michele #1)
Fighting for Anna (Michele #2)
Searching for Dime Box (Michele #3)
Buckle Bunny (Maggie Prequel Novella)
Shock Jock (Maggie Prequel Short Story)
Live Wire (Maggie #1)
Sick Puppy (Maggie #2)
Dead Pile (Maggie #3)
Box Sets
Murder, They Wrote: Four SkipJack Mysteries
by Pamela Fagan Hutchins,
Ken Oder, R.L. Nolen, and Marcy Mason
Nonfiction from SkipJack Publishing
The Clark Kent Chronicles
Hot Flashes and Half Ironmans
How to Screw Up Your Kids
How to Screw Up Your Marriage
Puppalicious and Beyond
What Kind of Loser Indie Publishes,
and How Can I Be One, Too?
Audio, e-book, and paperback versions of most SkipJack titles available.
Live Wire (Maggie #1) Page 27