He gave a sheepish grin. “I was the only person available.”
“Hmmmph. I’ll let you keep the kiss anyway.”
He grinned and she gave him another.
TWENTY-FIVE
Tom weighed his choices.
Al and Deke would do whatever he said. No questions asked. And he trusted them to keep their mouths shut. They’d already proved themselves several times, so they were scheduled to handle the second part of today’s task.
He eyed Owen Kilpatrick out of the corner of his eye. He wanted more from the man. He needed to know where Owen stood once and for all. No doubts.
Pounding sounded on the front door. Tom waved off Deke as he got up and opened the door himself. Jack Howell stood on the front stoop, looking annoyed that he’d been summoned to the ranch. His timing is perfect. Usually the real estate agent acted as everyone’s best friend, but the FBI’s hounding had taken his level of enthusiasm for Tom’s friendship down a notch. But he was here; Jack was still hungry for the sale.
“Let’s take a walk, Jack,” Tom suggested. “I need to get out of the house for a bit.” He glanced back at Owen. “Why don’t you come with us? I think this might interest you.”
Owen glanced at Al and Deke as he slowly stood, a questioning expression on his face. Tom’s usual companions sat motionless. Tom had already told them he’d use Owen as an escort for his conversation with Jack Howell. Neither man had questioned his decision.
He liked that.
They had a different assignment while he was out with Jack and Owen.
Tom, Owen, and Jack headed toward the east side of the property, following a path that led through a dense copse of pines. All three of them wore heavy coats to combat the chill in the air. Tom glanced at the sky and saw no sign of rain, just high, thin clouds against the pale blue. The men were silent as they walked, and Tom enjoyed the tension he’d created. He could feel their questioning glances on his back, but neither man asked where they were going.
Respect.
The path went up a gradual slope, and Tom’s lungs burned as he pushed himself. He wasn’t ignorant of the extra energy it took him to walk the path while the other two men seemed not to exert themselves at all. Both were younger, with lean builds. He’d tried for years to lose weight and had finally given up. He was what he was. He’d rather eat the food he enjoyed than spend years restricting himself. But there were times, like right now, when he despised the extra weight that made him sweat and strain.
“How far are we going?” Jack finally asked. “I need to get back to the office. It takes quite a while to drive out here, you know.”
Subtext: I’m spending a lot of time on you, and you haven’t put money in my pocket yet.
“You know the FBI might be waiting in the parking lot at your office to ask questions.” Tom glanced back at Jack and spotted a hitch in Owen’s stride at his words.
“I won’t say anything,” Jack said. “If that’s how you want to carry out this deal, I’m good with that. I don’t have to reveal your identity to anyone. You’ll be glad to know that Tilda Brass left me a voice mail about an hour ago,” he added in a more chipper voice. “She wants to know if I’m still interested in the property.”
“I told you she’d come around,” said Tom.
“So you definitely want to move forward with the offer we made? Or do you want me to lower it a bit? Now, since she came back to us, we have a bit of an upper hand.”
“I’m a man of my word,” answered Tom, puffing heavily. “I’ll honor the first offer.”
“When I leave, I’ll call to let her know.”
“You’re sure my name isn’t floating around on documentation in your office anywhere? And Tilda doesn’t know that I’m behind the offer, right?”
“Absolutely. I already told you this,” Jack said.
Anger shot through Tom at the exasperation in Jack’s tone. He didn’t tolerate his orders being questioned, and he didn’t like the signs that Jack’s respect for him had taken a hit.
Tom stopped to study their forested surroundings. Beside him Jack also stopped, annoyance still on his face.
I’m done tolerating that.
Tom took a long look at Owen. Time to find out exactly what Owen thinks.
Clearing his mind, Tom drew the pistol out of his deep pocket and shot Jack in the forehead.
The man’s body slumped to the ground. His eyes still open in surprise.
I’ll never get that image out of my brain.
“Holy shit, Tom! What the fuck?” Owen shouted as he jumped back from the body. He stumbled over his own feet and fell backward on his ass, his legs moving in crablike motions as he scrambled to put more distance between him and Jack. “What did you do?” Owen’s face went pale as he stared at the body and then at Tom. “What did you do?” he repeated, his eyes wide.
The sound of the shot continued to echo in Tom’s ears, and a wave of cool relief surged through him.
“He could lead the police to me.”
“I think they’re already watching you, Tom. You’ve been visited by every agency in the area.” Owen panted in deep gasps from the ground. He scooted another foot away from the body.
“I needed to eliminate any links between me and the fire at the Brass property.”
“The one where the deputies died?”
Tom didn’t answer, keeping his gaze on Jack. The agent’s body was impossibly still as blood slowly oozed from the red circle in his face. I thought dead men don’t bleed. As if it read his thoughts, the bleeding stopped.
“Are you responsible for those deputies’ deaths?” Owen hissed in a low voice.
Tom stayed silent as he turned his attention to Owen. Sweat covered the man’s forehead. “Get up,” he ordered.
Owen stared at him for a moment but obeyed. He slowly moved to his feet, his gaze alternating between Tom’s face and the weapon in his hand.
“There’s a ravine about a hundred feet in that direction.” Tom pointed, keeping his gun neutrally at his side with his other hand. “Drag him up there and throw him over. The wildlife will make short work of him.”
“No.”
Don’t disappoint me. “What will you do? Go to the police?”
Owen didn’t say anything. Tom saw the indecision in his eyes.
This is his make-or-break moment.
Tom moved his finger back to the trigger. “You don’t know this, but I spent time in this area several decades ago. I knew your dad, Owen. And I knew all your uncles on your mother’s side too.”
He had Owen’s attention.
“I know what you’re made of. I know the thoughts in your head. I know how you were bred. It’s why I was willing to bring you into my circle so rapidly. Most men spend years getting to the level of trust that I have in you.”
“Why me?” he breathed.
Tom knew Owen balanced on a tightrope, ready to leap off. But he paused, wanting Tom to convince him that everything would be okay. Tom was an expert at that sort of thing. He had the skills to show men like Owen what they really wanted.
“I just told you. I know your blood,” he said earnestly. “This country was built on the backs of men like your relatives. You can be one of them too.”
“Murder makes us no better than the ones trying to change us.”