“Were you there when they raped Lanae?”
He swallowed hard and I smelled his guilt.
“Did you participate?”
Eerie silence.
“Answer the question.”
His voice was barely a whisper. “Yeah, but I was drunk.”
My hand awaited instructions from my brain.
One quick slice, the barbarian in me urged.
Get more information first, the dutiful soldier retorted.
I breathed. Weighed my options.
Another voice broke through my rage. Not my dad’s. Rollie’s. Don’t do something you can’t undo.
It took effort, but I forced the blade from his throat. I had enough information. I could’ve walked away. Instead, I exchanged the knife for the Sig and placed the barrel at the base of his skull. Although we were ten feet from a fire, Hiram shook uncontrollably. I didn’t care. “Was Dawson involved in any of this?”
“No.”
“None of it?”
“None of what?”
“Hiding the truth, Hi.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
The man was so stupid it shocked the hell out of me this Warrior Society stuff stayed under the radar on his watch. “Yes, you do. Kit. And you. And Trey. And Laronda. Who had a hand in setting fire to my buildings? Whose idea was it to assault me? Or was it an attempt to kill me? And do you know how pissed off I am that Hope bore the brunt of that attack?”
No answer.
I grabbed his hair and yanked. “Don’t so much as twitch again or I’ll put a bullet in your addled fucking brain.”
Hiram whimpered like a kicked dog. “Don’t hurt me.”
“Like Trey tried to hurt me by whacking me at Clementine’s?” That crack in my vulnerability still burned my ass.
“Trey done that on his own. He was just supposed to-”
“Supposed to what?”
“He’s a good-looking kid, and we thought because it’d worked with Hope-”
“That I’d fall on my back and spread my legs for him? Jesus. You guys are stupid.”
“So we were wrong, but we didn’t have nothing to do with none of the rest of that stuff.”
I let my voice explode in his ear as I pushed the gun deeper into his skin. “Convince me.”
“C-come on Mercy, you’ve known me for years. You think I’m c-capable of that kinda stuff?”
“I didn’t think you were c-capable of rape, you sick bastard, but you managed to do that. And now I see why Josiah wants nothing to do with you. You don’t have a shred of honor, Hiram Blacktower.” I leaned over his shoulder and whispered, “Give Kit a message. He won’t know where, he won’t know when, but I am coming for him.”
I smacked Hiram in the back of the head with the gun grip hard enough that he tumbled off the rock. He fell face-first in the mud, and groaned once. I didn’t know if I’d knocked him out or if he was faking it.
I didn’t care. And I sure as hell didn’t stick around.
I drove home on automatic. Once I had cell service I called Hope’s home phone. No answer. I tried her cell. No answer. Feeling unnerved and pissed off, I swung by her trailer. No sign of her car. No sign of Shoonga. The house exhibited an unoccupied aura, but I beat on the flimsy aluminum door anyway. No answer.
It scared the living hell out of me to consider that she was probably staying with Theo.
My options were limited. I could hightail it to the rez and try to find Theo’s house. I remembered something about four miles out of Eagle River. Right. Driving around in the dark, on the maze of unmarked gravel roads, in four directions, in the middle of the night, would not be discreet. If I did show up, I’d tip him off I was on to him, and I wanted to retain the element of surprise.
I had no choice but to wait until morning. It’d give me time to come up with a plan to get Hope away from Theo without rousing his suspicions. It’d also give me time to hit upon a way to execute Theo that would look like an accident. Dawson would be suspicious of a single.45 shot to the head.
I left a series of messages on Hope’s cell phone for her to call me. No matter what time.
Thunder rattled the windowpanes. Rain? Two nights in a row? In a drought? A portend of doom for sure. I hugged the porch support beam and studied the changes in the sky. Dark clouds scuttled across the stars. A heavy, damp wind blew from the north, leaving a film on my skin sticky as pinesap. As a precaution against it being damaged by hail, I parked my Viper in the machine shed.
About two a.m. I returned inside and prowled from room to room, too restless to sleep. I opened my bedroom window to allow the fragrant scent of summer rain to waft in. Eventually the soft patter on the tin roof lulled me into a dreamless light sleep.
The morning dawned grim. Humid wind whipped across my face; sticky air clogged my lungs. My clothes clung to my skin like Mylar.
Something beside the electrostatic charge in the atmosphere was making my skin buzz. I didn’t need caffeine. I was already hyper-alert and too wired to do yoga, but meditation might help.
I crossed my legs lotus style, let my eyes drift shut, and envisioned the influx of oxygen into my lungs as slow as sipping water through a straw. Releasing the air first from my belly in a single long stream, then a silent hiss reversing course through my lungs, up my throat, and out my nose.
I’d performed the ritual a dozen times when my cell phone rang and I lost every bit of relaxation.
Caller ID read: Hope. Finally. “Hello?”
“Mercy?”
“Hey, sis. Where are you? I’ve been trying to call you since last night.”
Silence.
“Hope?”
A soft sob.
My heart rate shot through the leaky roof. “What’s wrong?”
“Theo. Oh God, Mercy, he already hit me after I dropped the phone. We’ve been out since before sunrise, and I’m so cold and scared and I can’t help shaking-”
The unmistakable sound of flesh hitting flesh ricocheted in my ear, followed by Hope’s sharp cry. The plastic phone case cracked beneath my increased grip. “Hope? What the hell is going on?”
Dead air. Rustling as the phone was passed. Theo said, “Mercy, the ever-vigilant daughter, who returned to save the family ranch from the greedy hands of evil land developers. Sounds like a bad movie of the week.” A mangled bray of laughter. “The truth is, I can’t trust Hope not to snivel, so listen closely.
“Hiram told me what happened last night after I left. You sneaking around, spying on us like you’re some army secret agent? Pathetic. You’re a truck driver. Anyway, Hiram is scared shitless; Kit is pissed off and says he’s not paying me for doing my job of getting into your sister’s pants.”
I heard Hope screech, “What? You bastard-”
Another sharp crack sounded, and I knew he’d smacked her again.
Oh yeah, jail was too good for this son of a bitch.
“You understand my dilemma. I can’t go back, so I need money to relocate. With a little… ah, persuasion, Hope told me how much cash is stashed in your daddy’s safe. Around thirty thou, right?”
“Roughly.”
“Get the money and bring it to me. Come alone. You fetch the sheriff or bring Jake or that faggot John-John, or one of those brain-dead ranch hands or even that dog, and I’ll kill her. Immediately. Messily. I’ll make sure it’s as painful as possible before she dies.
“Come unarmed. If I see you carting along anything resembling a gun, knife, bow and arrow, or even a big rock, I’ll kill her. Don’t wear a coat either; I’d better see nothing but your bare arms.
“Last thing. Come on horseback. I catch sight of an ATV or a pickup or a dirt bike, I’ll kill her. Right in front of you.”
“Wait-”
“Hope means nothing to me. But I know she’s all you’ve got in the whole wide world. I’ll take great joy in blowing her brains all over the precious Gunderson Ranch just to see you suffer, bitch. So think about what’ll happen if you’re planning on doing one goddamn thing to double-cross me. We clear on that?”