Texas Outlaw (Rory Yates #2) - James Patterson Page 0,102

a murder in over a decade. Turns out that was far from true.

After a long time of spinning our wheels in this investigation, it feels good to finally get some answers. Ariana and I have been going on adrenaline and caffeine, but I can feel my body needing to crash. All I want is to crawl back to my little apartment over Tom and Jessica’s garage and pass out.

But before we call it a day, Ariana and I—and the rest of the team leaders—are talking about a mystery we still haven’t solved.

The death that started all this.

Who killed Susan Snyder?

Gareth admitted to me that he killed Kyle, Dale, and Skip, but he denied murdering Susan. He said poison wasn’t his style, suggesting that she was killed. We just don’t know by whom.

“Did you ask McQueen?” a senior special agent from the FBI asks me.

“Yeah,” I say. “He swears he didn’t know about their involvement. Like everyone else, he was still fooled into thinking the McCormacks were bad, just not that bad. Drug dealers but not murderers.”

We speculate about whether Harris knows anything, but so far he hasn’t been willing to cooperate. He and the others are locked in the jail at the county seat.

“After all that’s happened,” Ariana says, shaking her head in disbelief, “we’re back to square one on the murder that started it all.”

Ariana has circles under her eyes and looks as tired as I feel, while somehow remaining as beautiful as ever. Like me, she was able to get a shower and change into clean clothes. She’s back in her signature jeans, white T-shirt, and boots, with her hair pulled back.

It’s been a pleasure to work with her. We make good partners.

I can’t help but think we might make good partners off duty as well.

As I’m looking at Ariana and thinking this, I realize a hush has come over the crowd in the station.

“Is that who I think it is?” someone says.

I look up from my daze and see a familiar face standing in the lobby.

Willow.

When she sees me, she rushes through the crowd of people, wraps her arms around me, and gives me a big, long kiss on the mouth.

Someone starts applauding, and then the whole station joins in, laughing and smiling in a setting that has been nothing but grim and serious since investigators started arriving in Rio Lobo.

Willow breaks our kiss and hugs me tight.

“I came as soon as I heard,” she says into my ear.

I hold her close, but I catch myself looking over her shoulder at Ariana, feeling like I’m cheating on both of them.

Chapter 105

INTRODUCING ARIANA TO Willow feels surreal.

Part of it, I think, is just how sleep deprived I am. But on top of that, seeing the two of them shake hands feels like two worlds colliding.

Or maybe two alternate futures.

The expression on Ariana’s face portrays contradictory emotions. She seems genuinely happy for me that my girlfriend is here to support me. But at the same time, she seems subdued, saddened by the reminder that I have a girlfriend. When I explain that Ariana saved my life, Willow is effusive in her gratitude.

I tell Willow that I have a little more work to do before I can beg off from my responsibilities, but Ariana tells me to go ahead and call it a day.

“Go get some sleep,” she says, pushing me playfully toward the door. “You deserve some R and R.”

“You do, too,” I say.

“I’m right behind you,” she says. “I’ll be out of here in fifteen minutes.”

“If anything comes up, call me,” I say.

“No,” Ariana jokes. “Turn your phone off.”

I realize that in all the chaos of these hours, I never recharged my battery. It’s still as dead as a doornail.

“Give yourself one night of rest,” Ariana says. “Then we’ll hit it hard again tomorrow. If I really need to find you, I know where you’ll be.”

Willow and I walk to her rental car, which she picked up at the El Paso Airport. The streets are so crowded that she had to park several blocks away. It would be faster to walk straight to Jessica and Tom’s, but her stuff is in the car. Besides, it’s nice to walk with her. The sun is setting, and the landscape looks picturesque. Willow takes my hand and intertwines her fingers with mine.

When we arrive at Tom and Jessica’s, I carry Willow’s bag and her guitar case—like me, she never goes anywhere without it—and Jessica spots us and rushes out to greet