Bounty Hunter Honor

“I’ll need some ID,” the kid said, sounding bored.

“Oh, Dennis, I left my purse in the car,” Nadia said.

“That’s okay,” Rex said. “I’ve got my license.” And he did, in fact, have a fake driver’s license. It was Rex’s picture, but Dennis’s name. The kid gave the card a cursory look and jotted down the number which, if anyone checked, would come back as belonging to a deceased person. But he doubted anyone would check. No one ever did.

Rex told the kid they were there to do some target practice with a gun he was thinking of buying. The kid handed them some ear-protectors, assigned them a lane and pointed them in the direction of the indoor range.

The range was bigger than it looked from the outside. And despite the rather shabby exterior, the inside appeared to be state of the art. They found their lane. And while Rex opened the leather case he’d brought and looked at the huge .44 Magnum Ace had loaned him, Nadia covertly checked out the other three shooters.

“I don’t recognize any of them,” Nadia said.

But Rex did. One of them was a Payton police officer, a young patrolman not long out of the Academy who hung around Lyle Palmer and tried to earn brownie points. Andy Arquette, that was his name. Rex did his best to keep his back angled toward Andy, not wanting a confrontation.

Rex wondered why a cop would come here when the police had their own shooting range he could use for free.

Nadia gave a low whistle when she saw the gun. “A Ruger Super Blackhawk .44 Magnum. That is some fancy handgun. I love the blue steel.”

“Your granny must have been quite a knowledgeable collector.”

“Well, actually, Nana Tania was a spy.” Some people reacted strangely to that information, but Rex took it in stride, nodding appreciatively. “After she retired, she said she was glad to be out of the spy business, but she must have missed it some, because she had a closet full of guns. When I was little, we would take them out and play with them the way other little girls take out their Barbie collections.”

Rex just shook his head. “You’ll have to tell me more about your Nana sometime. So, can you shoot this baby?”

She demurred. “I’m really rusty—haven’t touched a firearm since Lily was born. You go ahead.”

He’d been afraid of that. But if they wanted this to look good, they would have to actually fire the gun. He took the wicked-looking blue-steel gun out of its foam nest and loaded one of the many full magazines Ace had included. It clicked into place with a satisfying snick.

A paper target was about fifteen yards down the lane. Rex and Nadia put on their ear protection. Nadia stood back, giving Rex plenty of room. He took a wide-legged stance, put both hands on the gun, stretched out his arms and took aim. But his hands were shaking, and perspiration had broken out on his upper lip and forehead despite the range’s cool temperature. For a few moments, he thought he wouldn’t be able to shoot at all. He thought his stomach would rebel. But somehow, he managed to squeeze off the first shot, then another and another.

That was when the panic started welling up inside his chest. It was the sound of the gunfire, he realized. In the four years he’d been a bounty hunter, he had never discharged his weapon. He’d drawn it and intimidated people with it, as he had Jethro Banner just a couple of days ago. But he hadn’t actually squeezed the trigger until just now.

He laid the gun down, pulled off the ear protection and stepped back.

“Let’s see how you did.” It was Andy Arquette, who’d approached while Rex was shooting. Andy pushed the button that would bring the paper target close for inspection. “Haven’t seen you around here before. Name’s Andy Arquette.”

It appeared that Andy didn’t recognize him, Rex thought. Good. “Dennis Blankenship.” The two men shook hands. “This is my wife, Freesia.” Hell, Nadia didn’t look like a Freesia. Ace had a damnable sense of humor.

She mustered a smile and a quick handshake.

The paper target arrived. Rex didn’t even want to look at it, because he’d practically shot at the thing with his eyes closed. But when he did look, he saw that three of his five shots had actually hit—one in the arm, one in the abdomen, one in the thigh.

“Ooh, that guy’s hurting,” Andy said charitably. He was a tall, skinny guy with straight black hair. Rex didn’t like the way he was looking at Nadia.

“I’ve never shot this gun before,” Rex said, feeling he needed to rationalize his lousy marksmanship.

“Why don’t you give it a try…Freesia,” Andy said. Something about his tone bothered Rex. Was there a slight challenge to the suggestion?

“It’s an awfully big gun for a lady,” Rex said, trying to give Nadia an out. She’d said she didn’t want to shoot.

But she surprised him. “I’ll give it a try.” With the push of a button she sent the target out to the same distance at which Rex had shot it. Then, after a short hesitation, she pushed the button again, sending it even farther.

“You sure?”

Wordlessly she put on her ear protection, and Rex followed suit. Rather than the wide-legged stance Rex had taken, she stepped one foot back and planted it in a wide lunge. Then she aimed, sighting down the barrel with one eye, her face a mask of total concentration.

She pulled the trigger, then kept on pulling it until the magazine was empty. Though the gun had a colossal kick, Nadia hardly seemed to notice it. Her unconventional posture seemed to work well for her.

She laid the gun down, pulled off the ear protection, then pushed the button to bring the target close once again.

Rex’s blood drained to his feet when he got a good look at the target. Every one of Nadia’s shots had hit the paper man in the head.

“Damn.” Andy barely breathed the word. “Freesia, you’re not a member here, are you?”

“No, just a guest.”

“We could sure use you on our coed team. Lemme show you around—maybe y’all will want to join.”

“Sure, we’d love to look around,” Nadia said. That was why they’d come, after all—to nose around, find out if anyone had seen Peter recently.

Rex packed up the Magnum.

“You can check that into a locker if you don’t want to carry it around,” Andy said. “The lockers are free.”

“That’s all right, I’ll keep it,” Rex replied.

Andy showed them around the building. They’d already seen most of it, except for a small lounge area, which was currently empty. “Members are encouraged to socialize here—but only after they’re done shooting for the day. The owners are very strict about alcohol use.”

They went through a set of double glass doors to the outdoor range. Two men in camouflage with an arsenal of hunting rifles stood around, discussing the merits of their guns, but otherwise it was quiet.

“There’s a trap range on the other side of that earth barricade, and also a forty-yard tin-can range.”

They walked a little farther until they reached a small metal shed near a gate. Andy led them toward it and opened the door. “We keep reflective vests stored in here for the members’ convenience. We recommend you wear them. The wilderness area is over four hundred acres, and you never know who might be out here with a gun. You don’t want to be mistaken for a wild pig.”

They donned the neon orange vests and walked into the wilderness as Andy explained about the bountiful dove, quail, ducks and pheasants the members bagged. “Rabbit and squirrel are fair game year round,” he added with a grin that set Rex’s teeth on edge. “Good eatin’.”

They tromped farther out. Rex kept looking for an opening, a way he could casually ask about Peter, but he didn’t trust Andy, who seemed far too friendly, so he had to proceed with caution.

Andy pointed out the crumbling old mansion. “Game likes to hide in there,” Andy said. “One time during a javelina hunt, I cornered something in there with red eyes, and I thought I had me a pig. It turned out to be a possum.”

“They make a good stew,” Rex said, trying to get into the spirit of the conversation, though hunting animals had never appealed to him. He found it much more sporting to hunt something with an equivalent level of intelligence to his.

“So, who referred you to the Payton Gun Club?” Andy asked conversationally.

“Ace McCullough,” Rex answered. “He’s been a member a long time.”

“I’ve heard of him, of course,” Andy said. “He’s kind of a legend. Never met him, though.”

“I know another guy who’s a member here,” Rex said. “Peter Danilov?”