It hadn’t escaped her that somebody, like Marie, could wire a bomb to the ignition. But the big sedan had a sensitive alarm system that would go off if anybody got too close. An ambush from the shadows would be more Marie’s style. But the bitch would show herself first. She’d want Stella to know she’d come back for her revenge.
As a precaution Stella keyed the remote to unlock the doors and start the engine. No bomb. She climbed into the driver’s seat, locked the doors, and put the Buick in gear. Her feet, in their red cowgirl boots, were killing her. She couldn’t wait to get home, pull them off, and soak in a warm, sudsy bath.
Tomorrow the bar would be closed. Although she’d never been much of a cook, she usually fixed a little Thanksgiving dinner for herself and Nicky. This year, with her brother gone, it wouldn’t be worth the bother. But if things went as planned, she’d be celebrating in a different way.
Could she depend on Ralph to do what she was paying him for? Up to now, he’d done as he was told. But this job would take some guts. She wouldn’t put it past him to get cold feet, take the two-thousand-dollar payment she’d advanced him, and hit the road.
Either way, Ralph was a flunky who’d pretty much outlived his usefulness. He wasn’t smart enough to justify keeping around, which meant he’d have to go. It was only a question of when and how.
With Hoyt Axelrod dead and Marie in the wind, she’d lost the only people she could count on to kill in cold blood. Getting rid of Ralph was hardly worth the cost of a hit man, but since she’d always had a rule against offing folks herself, that might be her only option. The fact that he was Abner’s son-in-law called for extra caution. His death would not go unnoticed or uninvestigated.
But she was too tired to think about that now. Tomorrow, after she knew how Ralph’s little errand had gone down, she could make her plans.
Turning onto a side street, she headed for the apartment complex where she lived. She was getting weary of Blanco Springs and this whole business. Now that Nicky was gone, maybe it was time she pulled up stakes and headed for Mexico, where she had the connections, and enough money stashed away, to set herself up for the rest of her life.
She was liking that idea more and more. But first, she had to settle the score for her brother’s death. It would be easy enough to have Will Tyler killed. But she wanted him to suffer—to pay with his freedom, his resources, and all that he cherished. Only then would she feel satisfied. And only then would she feel free to leave.
The trial was a week away, but she was too impatient to wait. Payback for Nicky’s loss would begin tomorrow, while the family was at dinner.
She would stay home and listen. When she heard the blare of sirens, she would know Ralph had carried out her orders.
* * *
Thanksgiving Day dawned bleak and overcast, with dry flakes of snow blowing on the wind. Even on a holiday there were chores to be done—the cattle and horses had to be fed and watered, the fences checked, the horse barns shoveled out, and the stalls laid with clean straw. All the hands pitched in, including the Tyler brothers and Sky.
Ralph showed up on time and joined the others. Today the men who lived in the bunkhouse would enjoy a nice Thanksgiving dinner and a free afternoon. Ralph couldn’t help envying them. Vonda, who was too pregnant and tired to cook, would be heating a couple of frozen turkey dinners in the microwave. But what did it matter? Once he’d carried out Stella’s orders, nobody was going to have a good holiday, especially the Tylers.
As he worked, busting the ice off the water troughs and scattering hay in the pastures, dread clawed at his gut. It wasn’t too late. He could make some excuse, then walk to his truck and drive away. He had enough money stashed in a grocery bag under the seat to get him to some far part of the country, where he could rent an apartment and live frugally till he could find some kind of job.
Just go, he told himself.
But then he thought of the money and what Stella could do to him if he ran out on her. She had