Bounty Hunter Honor

“So you can handle a gun,” Lori said with renewed respect.

“Yes, I know firearms,” Nadia said modestly. “My grandmother was a…a collector. She taught me to shoot. I got rid of all my guns when Lily was born, though. I couldn’t stand the thought that someday she might…well, I’m sure you’ve heard the statistics.”

“We know,” Gavin said. “Beau and I both have young children.”

That surprised her. The idea that these tough guys had wives, families, seemed incongruous. Her gaze flickered toward Rex, trying to picture him as a dad, playing softball with his kids, enjoying a backyard barbecue. The picture wouldn’t come.

“Peter had friends at this club?”

“Yes. Another Russian, Vlad. I don’t remember his last name. After I lost interest in shooting, Peter hung out at the club even more. He started participating in the hunts, where they would release an animal onto the grounds and the hunters would compete to see who could track it and kill it first.”

Lori made a face. “That’s really sick.”

“I thought so, too,” Nadia agreed. “But they were very popular events. Peter said there was no greater high than the thrill of the chase.” Though these details about Peter seemed off the subject to Nadia, the bounty hunters were all taking notes or at least listening carefully.

“Do you have any other names from the club?” Rex pressed.

“There was a woman….” She paused. Could that be it? Could that be where she’d seen the rat-faced woman? She’d gone to a wine-and-cheese function shortly before she’d dropped out.

“Nadia, what is it?” Rex asked.

“That might be where I saw the rat-faced woman. I vaguely remember a woman, a Russian accent. She was flirting with Peter, but I was so used to that happening that I just tuned it out. But she had dark hair, not blond.”

“People can change their hair color,” Rex pointed out. “At any rate, this Payton Gun Club sounds like it’s worth checking out.”

“I have a membership,” Ace said, which didn’t surprise anyone. “I know the owner. Rex, I’ll get you a guest pass.”

REX DIDN’T WASTE ANY TIME. He culled the most promising leads from Nadia’s list, and parceled out the assignments. He sent Lori to check out the former co-workers, since they were young and male and kind of nerdy, in Nadia’s opinion. They would respond to a pretty blonde.

Ace volunteered to go to the Orthodox church and see what he could find out about the Russian lodge. “I speak a little Russian,” he said, though he was vague about how he had acquired the skill.

Beau was assigned the fancy smoke shop where Peter got his illegal Cuban cigars. The guy who ran the store was one of Peter’s friends. Gavin offered to check out Peter’s last known address and canvass the neighbors.

“That leaves the gun club for you and me,” Rex said to Nadia. “We’ll go first thing in the morning.”

“I’m going with you?”

“I can’t leave you alone, unprotected,” Rex said. “Peter already tried to kidnap you once. He might have decided blackmailing you using Lily is too risky, since you’re not playing by the rules. Rescuing one hostage is difficult enough. I don’t aim to have to rescue two.”

Though Rex’s protectiveness was strictly practical in nature, it warmed her nonetheless. It had been a very long time since anyone had shown concern for her welfare. And though she knew she was buying all this concern, she liked it. It made her feel secure in a way she hadn’t experienced since Nana Tania’s death.

“Tonight,” he continued, “you’ll stay in a hotel. I can be sure no one follows you there.”

“That’s not really necessary,” she argued. “My house is very sec—” She stopped when she saw the uncompromising look in Rex’s eyes. “Right. A hotel.”

“HOW DID YOU SLEEP?” Rex asked as Nadia climbed into his black Blazer the next morning. She’d managed to acquire some fresh clothes, he noticed. Same jeans, but now she wore a Southeast Texas State University sweatshirt under her windbreaker, probably acquired from the hotel gift shop.

She plugged her cell phone into his cigarette lighter to recharge. “I managed a couple of hours.”

“I take it you didn’t hear from Peter?”

“Not a peep.” She looked at him anxiously. “What if we did the wrong thing? What if he’s broken off communications for good?”

“How bad does he want this…thing you have?”

“Bad.”

“He’ll call. He’s just licking his wounds.”

“But what about Lily? Twenty-four hours have passed now.”

Rex knew the statistics as well as anyone. But he didn’t think they applied here. Peter Danilov was a blackmailer, not a sex fiend. He had a stake in keeping Lily alive. “He’ll call.”

He needed to distract Nadia from her morose thoughts. “I need you to tell me what you know about the Payton Gun Club.” He’d done quite a bit of research last night, but she might have some insights.

“Well, it’s been around for more than a hundred years,” Nadia said. “It used to be a huge estate belonging to one of the town founders—I forget what his name was. But he was really into hunting, and I guess he didn’t have children because he left his entire estate to the city of Payton, with the condition that the land and home be preserved and left undeveloped for use by hunters.”

“How big is it?” Rex asked.

“Several hundred acres. The Payton Gun Club leases the land from the city. The club renovated the barn, then built onto it for its shooting range and administrative offices. But no one had any money to keep up the old house, so now it’s just a crumbling ruin they use for tactical exercises. The rest of the grounds have been left wild. There’s a tall fence around the perimeter, and barriers to prevent stray bullets from getting off club property. But mostly it’s just wilderness.”

“And when they have these live hunts—how does that work?”

“They bring in some deer or javelina hogs or whatever, tag them and turn them loose. Then they turn the hunters loose.”

Rex had to agree with Lori—it did seem barbaric. The animals hardly had a chance, trapped in an enclosed area, even if it was hundreds of acres.

The Payton Gun Club was in a rural area outside the city limits. Though Nadia had described it, Rex wasn’t prepared for the actual place, starting with the wrought-iron fence that ran along the road for a half mile before they actually reached a gate and a discreet sign identifying the place. The peeling sign said Members Only in large letters, but the rusty iron gates were open, so Rex drove in. The Blazer’s tires crunched over the limestone gravel drive.

A smattering of cars was parked in the lot in front of a barnlike structure. Behind the barn was a long cinder-block building with no windows—had to be the indoor shooting range. Through a chain-link fence, Rex could just make out some targets in the distance—an outdoor range, probably not used much in the winter. Farther in the distance, a gray stone house rose up out of the prairie grass and scrubby trees. With its vacant windows and sagging roof, it had to be the former owner’s home, fallen into disrepair.

Beyond the house were woodlands. At least the poor animals had some place to hide.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Rex said. He made no move to exit the car as he tried to get a feel for the club. Maybe he’d seen too many spooky movies as a kid, but the Payton Gun Club had an air of shabbiness and desolation that called to mind maniacal killers in hockey masks. Especially that house. “You used to come here, huh?”

“I like target shooting,” she said. “It sounded like fun. But really, I only came a couple of times. I was never comfortable here, and Peter was just as happy to have me stay home so he could have male bonding moments with his friends. Female bonding, too, if I’m right about rat-face.”

“So you don’t think you’ll be recognized?”

“Doubtful.”

Just the same, he had Nadia pull her distinctive curly hair back with an elastic, then wear a baseball cap and her sunglasses. It was enough to throw off a casual observer, anyway.

Just inside the barn’s double doors was a reception desk. A bored-looking kid sat behind it reading a comic book. “Hi,” Rex greeted him, causing the kid to jump. “Ace McCullough left a couple of guest passes for me and my wife?”

“Oh, yeah, they’re around here someplace….” The kid rummaged around on the desk until he found them. “Dennis and Freesia Blankenship?”

“That’s us.”