Texas Outlaw (Rory Yates #2) - James Patterson Page 0,37
on the side. “Is this all you can be?”
His smirk disappears, but he still doesn’t say anything.
“I’m not trying to threaten you,” I say. “I can see you’re not scared of me. I’m saying you could still do the right thing.”
“What was all that about?” Ariana says as I’m driving away. “You really think you can get that guy to flip on McCormack and tell us if he had anything to do with Susan Snyder?”
“Probably not,” I say. “But I figured it was worth a try.”
Chapter 40
THE ATV IS idling on the shoulder. When the guard sees us coming, he roars forward again, leaving us to follow in a cloud of dust.
I take my time—I want to look around.
The road winds over a small hill, and we enter a work area the size of a football field full of metal buildings, valve stations, heavy equipment—a backhoe, bulldozer, dump truck, plow, tow truck—and a fleet of oil tanker trucks. I spot Dale working on one of the tankers with Skip Barnes, both of them standing on the bumper and leaning inside the open hood. I give my horn a soft beep, and when Dale looks up, I wave. Dale waves back, but Skip Barnes looks away, as if the sight of me hurts his eyes.
I decide that I need to apply some pressure to Dale. If I can get any of McCormack’s men to flip, as Ariana said, it’s going to be Dale.
As we drive away from the work area, we hear the crack of a rifle. I get a feeling we’re approaching Gareth McCormack’s shooting range.
And I feel certain that’s him taking target practice.
The ATV stops in a pullout next to a dense copse of trees along the creek. One of McCormack’s trucks is already parked there. We climb out of the truck and follow the guard through a narrow, overgrown path onto McCormack’s gun range. It’s a country club for gun enthusiasts, nothing like the flat stretch of land with an earthen backstop my dad built on our property. Here, a long concrete pad marks the firing point, covered by a shade roof. Tables beside each shooting station serve as rifle rests.
All of the shooting bays are empty except for one on the far right, where Gareth is seated, looking through a riflescope, and Carson McCormack, seated also, is looking through binoculars.
The silhouette target is so far away I can’t see it.
Both men wear ear protection, and the ATV driver calls out to them to let them know we’re here.
Carson McCormack pulls the protective earmuffs off his silver head and rises out of his seat, a big smile on his face. In his sixties, he looks a lot like his son; if not as muscular, still in good shape.
He’s dressed informally, jeans and a T-shirt, but for his bright silver python-skin cowboy boots and politician’s smile.
“Here he is,” McCormack says. “Ranger Rory Yates. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
He shakes my hand vigorously.
“I’ve been hearing so much about you,” he says. “And Gareth showed me the video of you in the bank. Very impressive. Texas is lucky to have you as a Ranger.”
He seems completely full of shit, but I act polite and appreciative of his praise.
He turns to Ariana and says, “Ms. Delgado.”
“You can call me Detective Delgado,” she says.
“Of course,” he says dismissively.
Gareth, now standing, approaches and gives my hand a shake like we’re old buddies. Like before, he has chew in his lip and a pistol on his hip.
“Sorry about giving you a hard time at the bar the other night,” he says, almost sincerely. “I get competitive when I know there’s a badass around.”
I tell him it’s no problem, but then I see Carson McCormack has a strange twinkle in his eye.
“Speaking of competitive,” he says. “When we heard you were coming to see us, we had an idea.”
“Who told you we were coming?” Ariana asks.
“Oh, the chief might have mentioned it.”
“What did you have in mind?” I say, trying to hide how pissed I am that John Grady Harris tipped off McCormack.
McCormack smiles devilishly.
“How about a little shooting contest?”
Chapter 41
I TELL McCORMACK there’s no way I’m going to compete in a shooting contest with his son.
“That’s too bad,” he says. “There’s no way we’re going to talk to you without a lawyer present. Unfortunately, my lawyer is in Houston, so it might take a week or so to get him out here.”
The message is clear. If I play along, they’ll answer our questions