Shotgun Justice

Moment? It would be days. Months that might add up to the rest of his life. The reaction to him on the highway proved she wouldn’t work with him. Now or in the future. Walking out on her that night without an explanation was a relationship destroyer. There was no coming back from something like that. He’d known it before he’d seen her cry the next day.

He’d messed up. Hell...she’d left him in jail.

An hour alone, behind bars, was plenty of time to think himself into every possible corner. Or not think his way out of any. Major Parker needed information from him to find whoever said the county sheriff had been notified of this threat. They should know who had screwed up or been bought off by the Tenoreno family.

He had to convince Avery’s coworkers that she was in danger and to let him go. So far they’d left him alone. He wanted to see a confident, satisfied Avery waltz through and tease him. He’d imagined her barely speaking to him. Maybe making him beg to be released. Or putting her hands on her hips while stating dramatically to get out of town.

Okay, that was a little on the Clint Eastwood side. She’d try to tell him she could take care of herself. He knew that much and had his argument ready.

The door at the end of the hall opened, and a young deputy with a couple of bottles of water in one hand and cell keys in the other approached him. He began reformulating his arguments.

Jesse had studied a lot of people. When you were best friends with a man as outgoing as Garrison, you weren’t required to say much to fit in.

Garrison thought of what to say faster and usually better. Jesse required time to think things through. Then react. Which, admittedly, he could have and should have done better when Avery pulled him over.

The deputy’s body movements indicated he didn’t know if he could trust Jesse. He dangled freedom from one finger as if he wanted to be convinced, then dropped the keys in his pocket.

“Mind telling me who you are?” the deputy asked, extending a water bottle through the bars. “No one logged you into the system.”

“Lieutenant Jesse Ryder, Texas Rangers. My ID’s in that duffel you’re holding, unless Avery took it with her.” He gulped the water, letting it cool not only his parched throat but his temper. “And you?”

“Deputy Bo Jackson. Why are you here?”

“Where’s Avery?”

“Good question.” He shifted his weight to his other foot, attempting to look casual. He didn’t succeed. “We’re hoping you could tell us if she’s not coming back here because of you. Or if you’re here because something’s up with that thing her brother’s involved in.”

Jesse’s heart rate sped out of control. He lost his grip on the plastic, then watched the bottle bounce and roll, spilling cold water across the old tile. He has her. His gut and mind were in sync. Snake Eyes has her already. “Get me out of here. Now.”

The deputy jumped back a little. Maybe from the spilling water but more likely because of the animalism Jesse barely recognized in his own voice.

“Just hold on a minute and don’t get worked up again. Nothing’s happened to her, but I think you answered my first question. This is about her brother, but you’re here because of you. She’s been tight-lipped for the past hour and I wanted some answers.”

“Deputy Jackson, you’re smarter than I gave you credit.”

“Thanks. I think. Easy mistake. I’m a lot older than I look.” The deputy retrieved the key and swung the door open. “Avery had your car brought to the office. Keys are across the street.”

“You aren’t going to keep me here till I spill what’s going on?” Jesse slid through the water on the floor and darted through the door before the deputy could change his mind.

“Smarter. You should remember that later.” He smiled, making himself look younger than before. Then he handed over the blue duffel. “Go inside the office across the street and collect your keys. Avery wanted to know if you needed directions to her house.”

“I got it, thanks.”

Keys. Paperwork. A short drive down unfamiliar streets. Jesse’s mind was blank following the directions on the map he’d printed out. He hadn’t thought of what he was going to say this time. As he pulled into a driveway, a motion detector flooded the yard with light. His eyes adjusted and he saw her sitting casually on the front porch.

Relief coursed through him like dousing a sunbaked body in a cool stream. She was safe. Exposed. Beer in one hand. Shotgun lying next to her bare thigh.

Very short shorts. But who was he to complain? She was safe. Avery had long, terrific legs that he’d admired for most of his life. Sand volleyball at Baylor had been eye-opening when he was eighteen.

“Sorry for losing my head on the highway.” She took a short sip from the bottle, never taking her eyes from him. Her short pixie cut—and he knew that only because of his mother telling him years ago—was under a black hat.

“Sorry that I didn’t give you a heads-up before arriving.” He took a couple of steps closer, wondering if that shotgun was for him or Tenoreno’s hired man. “Got another one of those?”

“Didn’t you bring your own weapons?” She sipped, then set her bottle on top of the water ring already on the old porch. “Oh, you meant a beer. Sure.”

The amber bottle had been sitting behind her for a while. Evidenced by the moisture dripping from its surface. He didn’t care if the beer inside was hotter than hell; he’d guzzle the peace offering he recognized being offered to him.

“Nice hat.” They tapped the bottle bottoms together and each drew a long drink.

“I bought it when I moved here. Symbolic. Rangers wear white, et cetera.”

Crickets chirped, the floodlight went off. It was a calm he could be thankful for. No words were necessary. In spite of their differences, they could work together. Old friends, falling into sync with...

“Your assassin waltzed into the sheriff’s office this evening.” Avery tipped the bottle for another swallow. “Want to see his picture?”

Chapter Six (#ulink_1ff0d3ff-4a7e-58e3-a4aa-8311cfd3857c)

Warm beer shot from Jesse’s mouth and up through his nose. Avery remained on the step, calmly finishing her last swallow. Her eyes sparkled from the porch light but mainly with laughter. Or maybe it was satisfaction.

No one had caught a picture of the Snake Eyes Killer. If they had, they didn’t know it. Completely at home with her, he untucked his shirttail and used it to dry his face. “You’re lucky I wasn’t facing you when you shared that news.”

“It’s all about the timing. Have a seat.” She patted the space on the far side of her daddy’s shotgun.

He recognized the initials carved into the wood. A.T. Hers. He’d helped her do it when they were ten. They’d both been grounded two weeks for ruining it, according to their dads. He took his seat and tried to be patient.

She pulled a folded piece of paper from her back pocket and flipped it on top of the gun. “I’m not convinced. Too easy for someone who’s never left a trace.”

“You know?”

“I’m not helpless, Jesse. I already admitted that I lost it on the highway. But honestly, when have you ever known me to lose the good sense God gave me during a case? I called Major Parker. I got all the details you didn’t tell me.” She spun sideways, leaning against the porch rail. “You sort of buried the most important part of your story when you got out of the car.”

“I apologized.”

“Yes, you did. So, moving on.” She leaned forward and tapped the paper with a short nail. “Professional hit men don’t curiously face a video camera like this guy did. He smiled at it, for crying out loud.”

“I agree. Probably not our man, but—”

“It’s someone who’s met him,” she finished with him.

Jesse unfolded the picture of a guy who looked normal enough. Looking directly at the camera with a big grin. “Did you send it to Major Parker?”

“Yes. He has someone working on facial recognition. I issued an all-points bulletin.” She shook her head. “We both know that’s just busywork. Why do you think this Snake Eyes character would show his hand, letting us know that he’s here?”

“To draw you out? Think he was waiting for you at the jail?”

“If he was...then he knows you’re here.” Her palms covered her eyes. An old habit she’d had since a kid. “There goes that bit of surprise.”

“I may be wrong.”