The Liar (44 page)

“When did she go?”

“Oh, I don’t know exactly since I was dealing with the leaky pipe, then Miz Bitsy’s sister—they call her Sugar?—she came in so the two of them were leaking together. I guess it’s been about twenty minutes or so. She should be back or on her way.”

Maybe it was the dregs of all that had happened, but the dread just dropped over him like a shroud. He yanked out his phone, intended to call her, and it signaled an incoming text in his hand.

“It’s Shelby.”

“There you go.” Crystal patted his arm. “She’s just letting you know she’s on her way back, I expect. No call to look so worried, honey.”

But when he brought up the text the bottom dropped out of his world.

“Where’s Forrest?”

“Forrest? I just saw him over that-a-way flirting with a pretty blonde. I—”

But Griff was already moving, and fast. He cut across the dance floor, ignoring those who called out a greeting. He spotted Forrest, and what he felt must have showed on his face. After a casual glance in his direction, Forrest’s eyes went cold.

He turned away from the blonde without a word.

“What happened?”

“She’s in trouble.” Griff held out the phone.

richard live hs gun mking me drive black drango wst on bb rd ky license 529kpe

“Christ.”

“What’s BB Road?”

“Black Bear Road. Wait.” Forrest clamped a hand on Griff’s arm before his friend could take off. “You’re not going to find her driving hell-bent all over the hills.”

“I’m not going to find her standing here.”

“We’re not going to be. Nobby’s over by the bar there. Get him. I’m calling it in.”

“I’m going after her, Forrest.”

“Not saying different, but we’re going to go with the best chance of finding her. Get Nobby.”

They pulled Nobby outside, and Clay and Matt with them.

“We’re going to do this smart,” Forrest began. “Two men to a team. The sheriff’s putting more together right now. We’re going to blanket the area west of town. Odds are he’ll keep to the back roads. Clay, you look here.”

Clay clamped a hand on Forrest’s shoulder, leaned in to look at the map on his phone. “You and Nobby are going to cover this section here. You keep your eyes peeled for that vehicle, that license plate. Matt, you sure about this?”

“Hell yes.”

“I’m going to have you go into town, hook up with the sheriff, he’ll—”

“What’s going on here?” Viola stepped outside. “What’s happened? Where’s Shelby?”

Griff only waited a beat. “You’re wasting time figuring out what you should say or not, Pomeroy. Richard’s alive—I don’t know how—and he has her. We’re going after her.”

The color drained out of her face, made her eyes blaze like blue fire. “Boy, if you’re putting a posse together, your granddaddy and I are going to be part of it.”

“Granny—”

“Don’t Granny me,” she snapped at Forrest. “Who taught you to shoot?”

“I’m going now,” Griff said.

“Nobby, set it up from here, will you? Griff and I are going.”

“Callie,” Viola called out.

“She’s fine, Griff checked, and we’ve got a man there sitting on the house right now.” Forrest kept going, opened the lockbox on the side of his truck, took out a Remington rimfire rifle, a box of ammo.

“I’ve seen you shoot so I know you can handle it.”

Target shooting was as far as Griff had gone, ever, but he didn’t argue.

Forrest got in the truck, took his favored Colt out of the glove box. “We’re going to get her back, Griff.”

“Not sitting here, we won’t.”

“I’m counting on you to keep a cool head.” Even as he spoke, Forrest punched the gas and they were flying. “We’re going to keep your phone open, in case she’s able to send you another message. Use mine to coordinate with the other teams as they come along. The sheriff’s already pulled in the federals. They got equipment we don’t run to in the Ridge, and better techs. Shelby keeps her head, keeps her phone on, they’re going to track it.”

“He had to be watching her, or be in the house when she went back.”

“We’ll find out when we get her back.”

“He’s going to be the one who killed the woman.”

Forrest’s face was stone as the speedometer inched higher. “I wouldn’t bet against it.”

“I saw him, I think. I got a bad feeling about the guy I saw—when I took Callie to the bookstore, then to the park. He played me.”

“Let’s worry about now.”

The now had fear tearing through his heart, his head, his belly. “He has to have somewhere to go. Shelby said he never did anything without a reason.”

“We’ll find him, and we’ll get her back. Safe.”

Before Griff could respond, his phone signaled. “It’s Shelby. Jesus, she’s got nerves of steel.” He struggled to read the jumbled text as they flew around switchbacks. “Old Hester Road, I think she means Hester.”

“I know where she means. It’s Odd Hester. Scatter of cabins and old campsites, deer stands up that way. Remote. You relay that, Griff, to Nobby, and he’ll take it from there.”

“What the hell does he want with her?”

“Whatever he wants, he’s not going to get it.”

Ice, sharp and jagged, poured in through the tearing fear. “How far away are we?”

“A ways, but we’re traveling a hell of a lot faster than they are. Bring the others along now, Griff.”

He made the relay, yanked off his formal tie.

He wouldn’t lose her. He would not lose her. Callie would not lose her mother. Whatever had to be done, he’d do it. He looked at the rifle across his lap.

Whatever had to be done.

“She’s sending another.
Right hardpack track past mulberry stand. Single cabin. Truck.
There’s a truck already at the cabin.”

“Might have more hostages. Or it might be his old partner. Let the others know.”

Griff couldn’t say how Forrest kept the truck on the road, not at this speed, not around turns so sharp they could cut bone. More than once they fishtailed or the tires kissed the narrow shoulder.

And still it wasn’t fast enough.

“She’s sending . . . it says . . . William, she means William. William Bunty.”

“Bounty,” Forrest corrected. “I know where it is. She’s guiding us in faster than the fucking feds ever could.”

“How far?”

“Ten minutes.”

“Make it less.” With hands cold as steel, Griff began to load the rifle.

•   •   •

S
HELBY EMPTIED
the bucket twice, refilled it.

Stalling, as nothing was going to remove the stains from the old wood floor.

But she poured a puddle of bleach from the bucket on the stain, got down on her hands and knees to scrub at it.

“Now that’s the kind of job you’re suited for.”

“Scrubbing floors is honest work.”

“Loser work. You lived the high life for a while. I gave you that.” He gave her a nudge in the ass with his foot. “I gave you a good taste of the high life. You should be grateful.”

“You gave me Callie, so I’m grateful. You always meant to kill them, didn’t you, the people you ran with, the woman who you lived with—she said you married her. Did you?”

“Not any more than I married you. Thinking I did was about the only really stupid moment she had when we were together. Women, what can you do? They’re wired to be suckers. But she wouldn’t have given up, even thinking I was dead. She’d want the score. She was getting too close. I walked right out behind her, out of that dive where you were singing to a bunch of rubes.”

He shook his head, circled her while she worked. “I saved you from a life of embarrassment thinking you could ever make anything with that mediocre voice. And Mel’s face when she saw me? Priceless. I take back what I said—that was her second really stupid moment. She rolled the window down, said, ‘Jake. I should’ve known.’

“Those were the last words she said, and yeah, she should’ve.”

“She loved you.”

“See what love gets you?” He gave her another little kick. “It’s just another con.”

She sat back on her heels, then rose slowly, bucket in hand. “I’m going to need more than this to bleach out that stain. Is there more?”

“You’ve got plenty, right there.”

“Yes, but I need it to—”

She heaved it up, straight bleach with a faint tinge of blood, into his face.

When he screamed, she had a choice. Go for the gun or run for the door. And she was too fired up to run.

She kicked, aiming for his groin. The floor was just wet enough that she slipped a little, and it took the leading edge off the kick. But she made contact. Even as she tried to grab for the gun, he fired it—wild and blind.

Her ears rang. She ducked, snatching at the mop, hoping to make better contact with his balls with the handle. But his flailing hand got a fistful of her hair, firing stupefying pain into her skull.

She jabbed her elbow into the same tender area, and knew she hurt him, knew she gave him pain. But he was as wild as she was now, and flung her across the room like a rag.

“Bitch, you bitch.”

She rolled. She wasn’t sure how well he could see, hoped he was blind. Desperate, she wrenched off a shoe, flung it across the room, praying he’d follow the sound.

But he walked slowly toward her, the whites of his eyes shattered and red.

“I’m not just going to kill you now. I’m going to hurt you first.” He rubbed his left eye with his free hand.

Making it worse, she knew. Please, please make it worse.

“Let’s start with a kneecap.”

She braced for the pain, then scrambled back in shock as the door where the bloodstains ended burst open.

Richard whirled, blinking his burning, blurry eyes as the bloody mountain of a man rammed him.

Horrible sounds, the grunts, snarls, the crack of fist against bone. But the only sound that mattered was the clatter of the gun as it leaped out of Richard’s hand on impact and hit the floor.

She bolted after it, nearly dropped it again out of hands soap slick with her own sweat.

She swayed up to her knees, bit down, gripped the gun in both hands.

The big man was bleeding, and whatever force had driven him into the room and at the man who’d shot him was eaten away now. Richard had his hands around the man’s throat. Squeezing, squeezing.

“Dead. Thought you were dead, Jimmy.”

I thought the same about you, she thought, and said calmly, coldly, “Richard.”

His head whipped around. She wondered what she looked like through those burning eyes. She hoped she looked like Vengeance.

He bared his teeth, let out a short laugh. “You haven’t got the spine.”

He lunged at her.

•   •   •

T
HEY HEARD
the first shots as Forrest spun the truck onto the dirt track. All plans to go in quiet, one in front, one in back, while backup poured in behind them, dissolved.

He floored it, fishtailed over the gravel walk as the next shots rang out.

“Go in fast,” Forrest shouted as they leaped out of either side of the truck. “If he’s standing, drop him.”

They hit the door together. Griff swung the rifle up.

But Richard was already down.

She knelt on the floor, holding the gun out, gripped in both hands. There was blood and bruising on her face. Her dress was torn at the shoulder where more bruises bloomed.

Her eyes were cold and fierce, her hair a wild, tumbling tangle of flame.

She never had and never would look more beautiful to Griff’s eyes.

She swung the gun toward them, and he saw her arms tremble. Then she dropped those trembling arms.

“I think he’s dead this time. I think I killed him. I think he’s dead now.”

Griff shoved the rifle at Forrest. His heart started beating again when he had his arms around her.

“I’ve got you. You’re all right. I’ve got you.”

“Don’t let go.”

“I won’t.” He eased back only to pry the gun out of her stiff fingers. “He hurt you.”

“Not as bad as he wanted. Callie.”

“She’s fine. She’s safe. She’s asleep.”

“He said he’d kill her if I didn’t go with him. He said he’d go after her.” She looked over at her brother, who pressed fingers against Richard’s throat. “I had to protect her.”

“You did what you had to do,” Forrest told her.

“Is he dead now?”

“He’s breathing. They both are, but they sure are a mess. It’ll be up to the doctors and God whether they make it.”

“He shot him, shot the big one—Jimmy—and thought he was dead, but he wasn’t. I threw bleach in his eyes, but it wasn’t enough. I slipped on it, I think, when I went to kick him in the balls, and he got me by the hair. He was going to shoot me, but the other one came out like a demon from hell. I got the gun. I got the gun, and the big one, he couldn’t fight anymore he was bleeding so bad. Richard was choking him. I said his name. I said, ‘Richard,’ so he looked at me. I don’t know why I thought that would make him stop. He thought less than nothing of me. He thought I was weak and stupid and spineless. He said that. He said I didn’t have the spine, and he came at me. I had the spine to shoot him three times. I think it was three times. He didn’t go down until the third time.”

Forrest shifted, crouched eye-to-eye with her. “You did what you had to do.”

Her eyes lost the fierceness, went glassy with tears. “You have to take it back.”

“Take what back, baby?”

“That I can’t shoot worth shit.”

Weak-kneed, Forrest rested his brow to hers a moment. “I take it back. Get her out of here, Griff. I got this.”

“I’m all right.”

Rather than argue, Griff just picked her up.

“You came.” She touched his cheek. “I knew you would, somehow. I didn’t know if the texts were going through, or who I was texting for sure. I’ve got them alphabetical, so it was going to be you or Forrest or Granny, maybe Grandpa. I knew if they got through, you’d come. You’d fix it.”

“You fixed it yourself before I got the chance.”

“I had to— Someone’s coming.” Her fingers dug into his shoulder. “The lights. Someone—”

“Backup. You’re safe now.” He turned his face into her hair. “You’ve got the whole damn Rendezvous Ridge Sheriff’s Department and God knows who else coming.”

“Oh, that’s all right, then. Will you take me to see Callie? I don’t want to wake her up. I don’t want her to see me until I’ve cleaned up, but I need to see her. Well, my God, that’s Grandpa’s date-night car. Set me down. Set me down so they’re not scared.”