Texas Outlaw (Rory Yates #2) - James Patterson Page 0,54

voice from cracking with heartbreak.

He tells them good-bye and starts back toward the trees. Gareth lets him make it all the way to the edge of the trees before he calls and asks Dale to do a favor before he leaves.

“Sure thing,” Dale says. “What you got in mind?”

Gareth leads him about ten feet out into the range.

“Give me your hat,” Gareth says.

Dale hands him his cherished ball cap and runs his hand through his sweat-soaked hair.

“Balance this on your head,” Gareth says, handing Dale an empty Coke can.

“You’re not gonna do what I think you’re gonna do,” Dale says, trying to sound calm. “Are you?”

“What’s the matter?” Gareth says. “Don’t you trust me? We trust you with millions of dollars of our property.”

“Sure, I trust you,” Dale says, but as he raises the can to his head, his hands shake.

Gareth backs up like a gunfighter getting into position. He finds a good place about ten feet away and puts his hand five inches from his pistol’s grip. Carson comes and stands near him, a few paces back. The old man has a grin on his face like he’s walked into a cockfighting arena—he knows he might see bloodshed and can’t hide his pleasure at the prospect.

The sun has almost disappeared beneath the horizon. The light is dim. Dale’s knees wobble wildly. The aluminum can on his head teeters.

“Now, hold still,” Gareth says. “If you move too much, you might make me miss.”

Dale tries to stand still, but his legs are shaking so badly that he can’t.

“You count down from three,” Gareth says.

“You want me to count?” Dale says.

Gareth spits tobacco juice onto the ground. “Yes, you count.”

“It’s getting pretty dark,” Dale says. “You sure you can see?”

“Trust me,” Gareth repeats, but the way he says it sounds vicious, not trustworthy.

Dale closes his eyes, knowing that he might be counting down to his own execution.

“Three,” he says, his voice rough.

He opens his eyes and sees Gareth, statue-still in the twilight. He looks like a predator, a wolf, eyeing his prey before striking.

“Two,” Dale croaks.

His whole body trembles.

“I don’t want to die,” he says, tears streaming down his cheeks. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll do anything you want.”

“Say ‘one,’” Gareth growls.

Dale takes a deep breath. He says a prayer inside his head. “One.”

Gareth’s hand flashes to his pistol. Dale hears the zip of the bullet flying toward him, and then the clang as the can catapults off his skull. He drops to his knees and throws his hands over his head.

Gareth and Carson both laugh like they’ve just heard the funniest joke of their lives.

Dale rises to his feet and approaches them on numb legs. He tries to smile, like all of it was a big joke, but he notices a large patch of wetness in the crotch of his jeans. He thinks for a moment that it’s blood and he’s been shot after all.

He realizes what happened.

He pissed his pants.

“Go clean yourself up,” Gareth says, his face transforming in an instant from jolly to grim. “And if you ever forget where your loyalties lie, the next one will be six inches lower.”

Chapter 59

I PULL MY truck to a stop in front of Ariana’s house. One of Harris’s patrol deputies, sitting sentry out front, sees me and jumps out of his car.

“You can’t go in there,” he says.

“Yes, I can.”

“Chief Harris says—”

“She hasn’t been arrested,” I snap, freezing him in his tracks. “You can’t put her on house arrest without a judge’s order. What you’re doing here is borderline illegal, and if you want to test me on that, I have no problem cuffing you and making you spend the night in jail in your own police station.”

I push past him. I’m carrying a small paper bag with the name of Jessica’s pharmacy stenciled on the outside.

“I’m going to tell the chief,” he calls after me.

“Go right ahead,” I say.

I’ve had a long day, and my patience is all used up. After Harris took Ariana’s gun and badge, he and I went back to the station with Ariana’s rifle. We argued for a while about how to handle the evidence. Neither of us wanted to let the gun or DNA sample out of our sight until we got them to the crime lab in El Paso, so we rode together in near silence during the five-hour round trip.

Now we just have to wait. Fortunately, we might not have to wait very long. The technicians at the Department of