“EVERYONE GET down and stay there,” Mack called. “Quiet down and stay low.” He needed to hear and waited to see if there were going to be any more shots. His main concern was keeping everyone safe. Keeping his head down, he made his way to the door and peered out across the street. He saw nothing.
“Mandy,” he said turning to where she was huddled near the counter. “Call the police and tell them I’m already here and want backup now.”
She hurried behind the counter, and a few seconds later, Mack heard her on the phone.
“It had to have come from the roof across the street,” Brantley said.
Mack turned, scowling at Brantley for following him and impressed the guy wasn’t cowering in fear. “How do you know?”
“Angle of the shot,” Brantley answered with a quaver in his voice that only managed to piss Mack off. “Are they still out there?”
“I doubt it. My guess is that they took one shot and took off.”
Sirens sounded and vehicles pulled up in front of the diner. Mack continued staying low. “Zeb, it probably came from the roof across the street,” he yelled when he saw Zeb get out and stay low behind his car.
Zeb got back in the car and took off before Mack could tell him to be careful. Thankfully no further shots rang out, and Zeb returned. “There’s no one there. Whoever it was got away. But they left shells this time.”
“Okay. Let’s get everyone out of here and safely to their cars. Have folks come back to settle any bills.” Mack turned to the owner, Marlene, who was in her midfifties and had seen just about everything. “Do you need us to get someone to board up the window?”
“Henry can do it,” she said.
“Okay. Then let’s get everyone out of here safely, and then we can figure out what the hell happened.” He stood and carefully began helping people out around the mess and to their cars. It took a while, but they spoke to each of the patrons to find out what they’d seen and then got them on their way home. Then he went to work trying to piece everything together.
Leaving Brantley in the far booth, Mack retrieved the bullet and added it to evidence. At least this time they had both bullet and shell.
“It looks like it’s from a hunting rifle,” Zeb said.
“Like there aren’t a million of those in the county,” Mack grumbled. At least if they found a suspect rifle, they could try to match fired shells. “Marlene, you can sweep up if you want, and Henry can board up the window.” They had taken pictures of everything, and Mack had gotten all he was going to from the scene.
“What’s happening in this town?” Marlene asked. “A murder and now a shooting through my window that could have hurt anyone.” Her frustration matched Mack’s. “I know this isn’t your fault, but you got to get to the bottom of this. It’s going to be hell getting people back in here after this.” She turned and began cleaning up, whisking her broom across the floor with much more force than was necessary. “Once you catch the son of a bitch who did this, I’d like to get the first shot at him. Maybe a load of buckshot in the ass will teach him a lesson.”
Mack wasn’t so sure of that. This guy was either on some sort of mission or had decided someone in this town had done him wrong and was going to try to get even. Mack had to get in this guy’s head somehow and figure out what the hell he wanted. It was the only way to get to the bottom of this.
“Do you think this shooting was related to Renae’s murder?” Brantley asked when Mack approached where he was huddled in the booth away from the windows.
“I don’t know. But my gut is telling me it is.”
“Sheriff,” Zeb said as he hurried back into the diner. “You need to come see this.”
Mack turned to leave, and Brantley followed closely behind him.
“Do you think I can go home now?” Brantley asked.
“Um. That’s the problem,” Zeb explained. “A number of people said they thought they heard two shots, but only one shattered the window.”
“Did you find another one?” Mack asked, and Zeb pointed across the parking lot to Brantley’s shiny new truck, which now had a shattered back window.
“The bullet went in the back window and shattered parts of the dash. We’re going to have to haul it in to the station to get more light so we can dig the thing out. But it ripped up the insides good.”
“Can we drive it over slowly?” Mack asked. “It’s only a block.”
“There’s enough damage that it could short out the entire electrical system. A tow truck is best to move it.”
“Okay. Call a truck and haul it to the station. Then get to work extricating the bullet. I’m going to take Brantley home.” When it rained, it fucking poured. At least this show of violence left little doubt as to who the target of the attack had been. Mack had initially been afraid that it might be him, but this clearly singled out Brantley.
It was going to be a long night.
Mack walked to his car and waited for Brantley to get in the passenger seat. “Is there anyone who’ll be with you at home?”
“It’s just me,” Brantley answered softly, worry and fear clear in his voice.
“Then I’m going to take you to my place. You shouldn’t be alone, and certainly not way out there. Whoever the hell is behind this knows your movements and will be aware that you’re on your own.” Mack started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. He drove a few blocks and pulled into his drive.
The lights were on inside, casting rectangular squares across the lawn. “You’ll be safe here, with other people around.” Mack cut the engine and got out, scanning the surroundings before walking to the house. He opened the door, and the herd surged past him, circling Brantley, sniffing, and yipping. “It’s all right. They’re only interested in seeing if you have any treats. The lab is Leo, and the beagle is Rex, and this one is Lulu.” Mack picked up the poodle mix, and she squirmed with excitement in his arms. “They’re all attention sluts.” He motioned inside. “Come on in and they’ll follow.”
Brantley looked overwhelmed. “I’ve never had dogs.”
“Why not?” Mack asked as he waited for Brantley to pass by and then closed the door.
“I lived in the city. A lot of people did, but I thought it unfair. Dogs need room, and being stuck in an apartment isn’t fair. At least I didn’t think so.”
Mack nodded, then called, “Dad!”
The bathroom door opened, and his father rolled out and down the hall into the living room. “Heard there was some excitement at the diner.”
Mack put Lulu back on her feet. “Yeah. Dad, this is Brantley Calderone. He’s new in town. His truck was shot up, along with the diner window, so he’s going to be in the guest room for tonight.”
“It’s good to meet you,” Mack’s dad said, shaking hands with Brantley. “Call me Lew.” He turned back to Mack. “You need to go back to the station?” he asked, and Mack nodded.
“I have a lot of work to do to try to get to the bottom of this whole mess.” Mack rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t wait up for me. I’ll probably be really late.” Mack turned to Brantley. “Dad will look after you, and so will these guys.” Time was of the essence, and he needed to get to work.
Mack strode to the door and stopped with his hand on the doorknob. Brantley looked so alone, even with Lulu jumping around his legs. Mack had never thought about having a boyfriend again or allowing anyone into his life. Not seriously since coming back. But Brantley tugged at his heart. Fucking hell if Mack could figure out why. Maybe it was the fear in his huge blue eyes, or it could be the fact that even though he was scared, Brantley still held an inner confidence and strength that most men would have lost after all the excitement of the last couple of days. One thing was for sure: Mack wanted Brantley to be safe regardless of whether it was his job or not. That was important.
For a brief second, Brantley’s gaze caught his, and they shared a moment of connection that Mack felt to his gut. Mack’s belly tingled with the familiar call of interest, and then Brantley turned away.
Mack pulled open the door so he could hurry back to work.
MACK DRAGGED himself home hours later. They had gotten exactly nowhere in the investigation. The bullet had been recovered from Brantley’s truck, but the thing was a mess. The impact had done a number on it. Still, the shooter hadn’t actually hurt anyone… this time.
He opened the door and went in softly, expecting the herd to group around his legs. Nothing happened. The house was quiet. His dad sat in his favorite recliner with a blanket, head resting back, eyes closed.
“Do you want me to help you to bed?” Mack asked. His dad often slept in his chair when he was worried.
“In a minute. I talked to that young man for a while. He’s something else. Got guts, that one.”
“How so?”
“There are lots of kinds of courage. You have it under fire. He spent the evening talking to me and advising me on what kinds of investments I should make, put together a whole plan and where the money should be, and then when I should change it and what to. The guy is really smart. At some point a car went by—you know that old clunker Mrs. Abbott drives? Makes a god-awful noise. He tensed but then went right back to work. Nerves steady as anything. Sometimes going on after an incident like that without falling apart is real courage.”
“I like him too, Dad,” Mack said to his own surprise. “Now let’s get you in your chair and to bed.” Mack watched to make sure his dad didn’t need help getting to the chair and then quietly wheeled him down to his room. His dad went inside and closed the door.
Mack turned to go to his own room but stopped outside the partially open guest room door. He peered inside. There was little light, but a soft snore reached his ears. He knew that was Lulu. That little girl could wake the dead sometimes. She was curled next to Brantley’s legs, with Rex on the other side. They raised their heads and then put them down once again. Leo didn’t even do that. Mack’s dogs seem to have fallen in love with Brantley, or if nothing else, they knew he needed them. “Night, guys,” Mack whispered.
“Mack?” Brantley asked sleepily and shifted, the bed squeaking slightly. Mack had meant to fix that. One of the million things he needed to do when he got around to it.
“I just got back. Go back to sleep.”
Brantley sat up, and Mack stepped back. “Did you find out anything?”
“Very little. The guy is a ghost. He seemed to leave little behind besides bullets. No one saw anything. They only heard the shots.” He stepped away from the doorway to go to his room when Brantley got out of bed. Mack forced his attention to the shine of his brass doorknob. He needed to look anywhere other than at the skin hinted at by the flash of gold. “He just disappeared.”
“He can’t have.”
“I have people watching the building where he took the shot, and we’ll go over when it gets light and see if there’s anything we missed.” Mack let go of the knob and turned around.
Brantley stood framed in the doorway, the hall light highlighting his golden skin. He was lean, svelte, and maybe a little pale from years indoors. Mack stopped his head from tilting forward to follow the line of his hips down into the sweats that his dad must have lent him from his drawer. They were a little big on Brantley, and damn it, he’d done exactly what he’d said he wasn’t going to do. He couldn’t help it. Heat welled up inside, and he swallowed hard to help wet the inside of his mouth once again.
“But you will catch him?” Brantley asked.
Lulu padded out into the hallway, looking up at Brantley as if to ask why he was crazy enough to be up at this hour, and then she ambled toward the living room.
“I will. But this is turning into a bigger puzzle than I expected.” And he was so damned tired, he could hardly think. His attention kept being drawn to Brantley, and what sent heat shooting through him was that Brantley was looking back.
“I’m good at puzzles and things,” Brantley said. “That’s what decoding the financial data I dealt with involved. Every company and industry was a puzzle. They had things that were at their center, nuggets of information that would yield amazing results.”
“Well, I’m just a law enforcement officer, and this one is stumping me. Whoever is doing this seems to be going after you.” Damn, Mack wanted to go after him, but in a very different way. He stepped closer, and Brantley stayed in place. This was not a good idea, and yet he was drawn to Brantley like a magnet. It had been quite a while since he’d been involved with anyone, and even then he hadn’t felt this kind of pull. But Brantley was involved in a case, a police matter. It was likely he was the intended victim, and Mack had brought him home in order to provide a safe place for him, and that meant a place safe from him too. “Do you need anything?” he managed to croak.
“I was going to get some water.”
“Come on.” Mack led him to the kitchen. “I have juice and tea if you want that.”
“No caffeine,” Brantley said as he sat at the kitchen table.
Mack got two glasses, poured orange juice into each one, and took a seat across from Brantley. “I will find this guy,” Mack said. “I hate unsolved cases, and I haven’t had any since I came into office. The people here aren’t going to reelect me if I don’t do my job. And this is as high profile as it gets.”
“It’s my life they’re after.”
“I know that. I’m only saying that we have the same goal, and I take pride in solving my cases. I will do everything I can. You have to know that.” Mack downed his juice as though it were a huge shot of gin.
Lulu came in, and Brantley bent down and picked her up.
“I see you’ve made a number of friends.”
“I think so. They’ve all been friendly.”
“They love attention, and I’m not home enough.”
Lulu squirmed, so Brantley put her down again. She ambled over, and Mack picked her up. She settled on his lap and put her head down. He stroked her fur and tried to relax. It was difficult with Brantley sitting near him, half-naked, pulling him toward his heat. He wanted to give in but resisted.
“Does the town know… about you?” Brantley asked. “I see the way you look at me.” Brantley broke the gaze Mack hadn’t even known they were sharing, and then his skin rippled with a chill at the loss.
“I don’t know,” Mack answered. “I’m an honest person and I don’t lie, so I never told anyone I was… straight, I guess. But I never told anyone otherwise either. In this town I’ve never had occasion to. After I returned, I went to work, and I take care of Dad. There hasn’t been anyone who caught my interest, so the subject never really came up.” Mack had never been the kind of guy who ran on at the mouth, but he wanted Brantley. Damn, why did he always wish for what he couldn’t have?
“I didn’t mean to impugn your character.” Brantley drank half his juice, and Mack wished a drop, just one, would escape and caress its way down Brantley’s neck and chest. Then Mack would have an excuse to chase it with his finger. “In New York, I was out but hermetic. My work took most of my time, and I never had luck with men. They’d be interested at first, but almost every time it was because of my bank account.” Brantley sighed. “I had one boyfriend, Johnny, who, after dating me a month, wanted me to invest his money for him and make him rich. He thought I had some golden touch that would turn his few thousand dollars into millions overnight.” Brantley finished his juice and put down the glass. “He left me shortly after I turned him down.” He got up and took his glass to the sink. “All I wanted when I came here was a simpler life. I didn’t want all the stress and hustle of the city. I hoped to have a place, maybe get some horses so I could learn to ride. I dreamed of that as a kid. More than anything I wanted a pony, but there was no place to put a pony in a Manhattan apartment. I thought I’d build up the ranch, knowing I’d have to hire people, and then maybe I could have a business.”
“What about someone to share it with?” Mack asked.
“I didn’t think about that. If I couldn’t find someone in New York, I figured that sort of thing was out of the question anyway, so I didn’t give it much consideration.”
“You should,” Mack said, watching Brantley’s back as he heaved in a breath.
“What I need to do is go to bed.” Brantley turned from the sink to face him. “This is… everything is….”
Mack drew himself to his feet without thought, gliding toward Brantley without lifting his feet. At least he didn’t feel them lift. All he felt and saw was Brantley getting closer. Brantley backed up against the sink, and Mack stopped, giving Brantley an out. He wouldn’t force anyone, but his entire being throbbed and urged him forward. “You should go now if that’s what you want to do,” Mack breathed.
“I know I should, but I don’t think I can.” Brantley raised a hand, and Mack caught it and brought them together in a first touch that promised more.
Brantley stepped forward and leaned in closer, tightening his hold on Mack’s hand as if he thought he would bolt. Their gazes probed deeply, each looking inside the other for what he needed most. Brantley pressed forward as he inhaled, and Mack tugged him still closer.
The fluorescent light over their heads buzzed softly as Brantley closed the distance between them. Chest to chest, he pushed Mack back until the counter pressed lightly into Mack’s lower back. Brantley’s musky scent, heavy with sleep and arousal, swirled into Mack’s nose, intensifying as Brantley got even closer. Mack’s lips parted, and he tilted his head to the side, preparing for what he hoped like hell was coming next. He was afraid to blink for fear it would break the connection between them and Brantley would change his mind and decide that now would be a good time to go to his room.
Mack released his grip and slid his hands around Brantley’s waist, tugging him in even closer and slipping his fingers under the waistband of Brantley’s sweatpants, the smooth warm skin teasing him even more. He wanted it all, and he wanted everything right the hell now. His pants were too damn tight, and he needed some relief, and the most damning thing of all was that he hadn’t even gotten a first taste of Brantley and he was already ready for seconds.
He closed the gap between them, taking Brantley’s lips in a bruising kiss. Mack hadn’t meant to be that intense right out of the gate, but his control was slipping. Thankfully Brantley met his intensity measure for measure, sliding his tongue along Mack’s in what was less of a duel and more of the two of them pulled by the same internal need that neither seemed able to control. Mack tasted the tang of orange juice still on Brantley’s lips, but that didn’t last for long. Soon the rich earthiness of Brantley came through, and Mack was hooked and wanted more.
Light-headed on Brantley’s musk, he pulled him closer, the heat of Brantley’s chest radiating through his shirt as Mack memorized the contours of Brantley’s smooth back. “God, I want you,” Mack whispered when they moved apart just enough that Mack still felt the heat from Brantley’s lips. He dared to let his hands roam lower, sliding over the fabric to cup Brantley’s firm, bubble-shaped ass.
“I…. It’s your house… your dad is home….” Brantley sputtered even as he cut himself off with another kiss. If that was how Brantley reacted to passion, Mack could grow to crave those mutters of incoherence.
He could feel the sweatpants riding low on Brantley’s hips. It would be easy to push them past the rod of steel that pressed into Mack’s hip and take what he wanted. Brantley was certainly willing, and if the growls from deep in his throat weren’t an indication of what he wanted, the rising heat from his skin was certainly more than enough of a welcome.
“Mack…. I….”
“Fuck, you taste like heaven,” Mack muttered, letting his hands rove around to Brantley’s chest, about to test whether his nipples were as sensitive as the rest of Brantley seemed to be.
A howl went up from the guest room, followed by barks and the racing of paws and clicking of nails on the floor, running past the kitchen toward the front door. Leo growled as he stood at attention by the door. Rex bounded up into the chair, howling, head tilted upward, while Lulu added her own alarm.
“What is it?” Mack asked as he approached the front window. He parted the curtains and grabbed his gun while working the door open. “Brantley, hold the dogs inside.”
Brantley raced over, lifted Lulu into his arms, and held Rex’s collar.
Mack pushed Leo out of the way and stepped out into the night in time to see a lone figure racing down the street in dark clothes. Mack flipped on the outside lights and let the door close silently after him.
The only sounds that reached his ears now were the chirp of the insects and the hum of an occasional car engine from the next street. Other than that, the night was silent.
Mack thought about going after the guy, but there was little use. He went back inside, leaving the outdoor lights on, and closed the door. He wasn’t sure what to think at this point. “It’s all right, guys, you did good.” Mack stroked all three dogs, and now that it was once again quiet, they settled down.
“Mack,” his father called.
“It’s fine, Dad. Go back to sleep.” Mack tried to stifle a yawn and failed. It was way past time to get some sleep. He put his gun away and yawned widely again.
“I’ll see you in the morning.” Brantley turned back toward the hall that led to the bedrooms.
Rex and Leo looked at him and then turned to Mack before trotting off after Brantley.
Mack wanted to be upset, but the truth was, it would be nice to have some room in his own bed for one night, and Brantley seemed to need them. The dogs always knew. He set Lulu down, and she sat, looking up at him. Mack locked all the doors, then went down the hallway to his room.
Temptation slept right across the hall, but Brantley had made his choice, and Mack would abide by it. Lulu followed him into his room, jumped up onto the bed, and lay down right in the exact middle. Mack went to his bathroom and cleaned up before undressing and climbing under the covers. “Move over, you little bed pig,” Mack growled, and Lulu did the same right back before shifting over, and they settled in.
MORNING CAME way too early, but thankfully the rest of the night was quiet, and he got a few hours’ sleep before dragging himself out of bed, dressing, and leaving the house. He was barely awake when he met Zeb and his other deputy, Ronnie Carvey, at the building across from the diner. “Spread out and look around. This guy couldn’t have left without any trace at all. He dropped his shells and left them, so he can make a mistake, and we need to see what else he did.”
Mack stood at the base of the building, looking up, wondering how in the hell the guy had gotten up there. Had he carried his own ladder? “Zeb? How did you get up there last night?”
“The dumpster was right up against the building.”
“So it was moved. Who did that? Find out from the guys who were here last night.”
“I moved it after I got back down. I didn’t want anyone else up there,” Zeb explained. “I used gloves, and I’m glad I did. That thing is nasty, and it smells to high heaven. Think when we’re done we can get them to hose it down or something?”
“Let’s keep our eyes on the prize, all right? Let’s go over what we know. He arrived from somewhere and most likely had a car or truck parked back here.”
“There was an empty space right here,” Zeb said and paced off the area. “The rest of this was parked up. So it makes sense he parked here and went up to the roof.”
“Why?” Mack asked, not expecting an answer.
“If the shooter was after the new guy, then he had to have followed him to know where he was,” Ronnie said. “I’m assuming the shot wasn’t random.”
“It wasn’t,” Mack said as he continued looking around. “Get a ladder so we can go up and see what we have.” He continued scouring the area, trying to visualize what happened here. This exercise was a long shot, but they had to get any evidence they could from the scene, and Mack was not happy this guy was pulling all this off under his nose.
Zeb returned five minutes later with a ladder, probably borrowed from one of the merchants, and Mack climbed to the roof and motioned Zeb to come up with him. He stepped carefully, easily finding the evidence markings where the casings had been. Mack had a good view of the diner. “He must have used a scope. You can see the diner, but you’d need more detail if you wanted to take a precision shot.”
“Do you think this guy is a sniper?” Zeb asked.
“Not necessarily. A hunter with a good rifle could have made this shot. But it’s a good bet there’s some training involved.” Mack knew that was a supposition and not even a strong one. Once again, what he had was a whole lot of nothing. Mack went back to the ladder and climbed down. “Let’s go back to the station.” He needed to go over everything he had again and see if there was some nugget of information that he’d missed.
“DID YOU find anything?” Brantley asked when Mack returned home that night, and Mack had to tell him no. The entire day had been nearly useless, and he was not an inch closer to finding out who was behind this.
“I was able to arrange for someone to fix your truck for you. It’s going to take some time because they really messed up the electrical wiring.”
“It’s all right. I called my insurance company, and they said to take care of it,” Brantley said. “I was hoping someone could take me back out to the ranch.”
“You can’t stay there,” Mack said. “You’re being watched, or at least you were last night. Otherwise how would anyone know you were at the diner? So I’ll be glad to take you out there to get anything you need and check on the place, but I want you to stay here. You’ll be safer—right, Dad?” Mack asked.
“Yeah, boy. You need to keep safe, and the best way to do that is to let Mack try to protect you.”
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
“And I don’t want this asshole to succeed and kill you,” Mack said.
Brantley turned to him. “I don’t think that’s his goal. I’ve had tons of time to think about it today, and if he wanted to kill me, he had the chance to do it. He killed Renae from not much closer than he was last night. That is, assuming this is the same guy. And I’m betting it is.”
“That makes sense.”
“So the real question is, what does he want? If he wasn’t out to kill me last night, then what sort of message was he sending or what did he hope to accomplish? I’m willing to bet that he’s trying to scare me off. He was after me, there’s no doubt, and he shot up my truck and no one else’s. The shot through the restaurant window came near my head. He had a clear enough shot to hit me, but didn’t.”
“Okay. If that’s true, then why? What could they want?”
“The easiest answer is the ranch. The land. I have water and some of my neighbors don’t,” Brantley said.
“You’re thinking Andy, aren’t you?” Mack said.
“I know he’s your cousin and that you’d probably not want to think of him that way, but yeah. He’s kind of a dick, he needs the water that I have, and if I’m gone, he could let his cattle graze there until someone else either bought the property, or I can see him trying to take it off my hands so I could leave.”
“We don’t have any proof,” Mack reminded him.
“Nope,” Brantley agreed and remained quiet.
“Son, why don’t you take him to the ranch so he can get some of his things? I’m sure Brantley would also like to check that everything is okay out there as well. Take Leo and Rex. They’d like a good run, and you know they’ll sound the alarm if necessary.”
“All right.” He scooped up Lulu, placed her on his father’s lap, and then called the other two, who barreled out as soon as he asked if they wanted to go for a ride. “Would you take them out to the truck? I need to change. I’ll be out in two minutes.” Mack hurried to his room and changed in record time. Then he jogged outside and found Brantley sitting in the cab of his old truck, Leo in the back and Rex perched on Brantley’s lap, tongue lolling, all waiting for him.
That was one hell of a sight. Brantley looked good in his truck. Hell, Mack figured Brantley would look good anywhere—in his truck, on his sofa, in his bed. He’d looked and felt amazing in his kitchen last night. Mack wanted a repeat of that, for sure, maybe with the addition of—nope, make that the removal of—a lot more clothing.
Mack pulled his thoughts away from how Brantley would look naked and got into the truck, started the powerful engine, and backed out of the drive.
“I keep wondering what I’m going to find,” Brantley said, petting Rex as they went.
Mack had to admit he didn’t know. If the incident in the middle of the night was an indication, then the shooter knew Brantley was at his house. Mack was going to have to be extra careful. “I think it will be fine. If they want the ranch, then it’s likely they want it intact.”
Brantley nodded, biting his lower lip.
Mack had tried to be reassuring, but he wasn’t sure either. What if their shooter was getting frustrated and decided to escalate? Mack’s experience told him that was the usual pattern with people who were willing to resort to violence to get what they wanted.
He made the turn out of town and picked up speed. There was little traffic, and Mack sped up along the country roads. He didn’t exceed the speed limit by too much because he didn’t want to set a bad example, but Brantley’s anxiety filled the cab. The dogs felt it. Leo placed his head against Brantley’s arm. Mack pressed the brake to slow down as he approached an intersection, and nothing happened. He pushed harder, but they didn’t engage at all. “Shit, the brakes are gone.” He downshifted into second, and the truck slowed. Mack hoped to hell no one was coming along the side street because he was not going to be able to stop in time. “Hang on to the dogs,” he said and downshifted once again. The engine engaged, and the truck lurched as it slowed quickly, the engine screaming as it offered resistance and slowed them further.
The truck rolled through the intersection, and a car crossed just behind them. Brakes squealed, and Mack managed to pull the truck to the side of the road. As the truck rolled to a stop, Mack threw the gear into neutral and yanked the parking brake before jumping out. “Is everyone all right?” he yelled as he hurried to the other car.
“What the hell were you doing?” Taylor Hopper said as he got out of his car. “You nearly killed us.” He turned toward him. “Sheriff?”
Mack’s heart pounded in his ears, his mind screaming that he’d nearly hurt some of the people he’d sworn to protect. “Yes. My brakes failed completely. I wanted to make sure everyone was okay.”
“We’re fine. Shaken up, but fine.”
His heart rate slowed a little. “Is Isaac in the car with you?”
Taylor nodded. “Anne, as well.”
“But they’re all okay?”
“Yes. We didn’t collide. It only scared them. I saw you and managed to slow enough to miss, but it was pretty harrowing for a few seconds.”
“I’m sorry about that.” Mack peered into the window, apologizing to Anne and waving to Isaac in his car seat, the youngster waving back with one hand, the other thumb stuck in his mouth.
“Do you need help or a ride?” Taylor asked.
“I’ll call in to get one. Thanks. We’re a little full with the dogs.” Mack stepped away, and Taylor got back in his car and slowly continued on his way. Mack pulled his phone out of his pocket and called in. “Gloria, I need a car out on Route 21 near Wilson. Send someone right away with sirens!”
“Right away,” she said and hung up.
Mack walked back to his truck, opened the door, and got back inside. He lowered the windows for some air.
“Is someone on their way?” Brantley asked.
“You better believe it. I bet the son of a bitch cut my brake line last night.” Mack smacked the steering wheel with his hand. “One of the deputies will be out here soon. I hope to God it’s Zeb. He knows his way around cars a lot better than anyone else on the force.” He should have been specific, but his men had been working a lot of hours, so if Zeb was off, he didn’t want to bother him. Mack had a feeling that this case was going to occupy a lot of resources.
“I hope so.” Brantley fidgeted in his seat. “I hope nothing has happened out at the ranch.”
“Not to sound unfeeling, but if the worst happened, is there a lot that you couldn’t replace?”
“There are pictures and things, but most of them are on my computer, and that’s backed up.” Brantley thought a few seconds. “It’s my home. I know I’ve only been there a week, but it’s still my home.”
“I didn’t mean to be callous. I understand the feelings associated with home.” He also understood what it meant to feel like a victim, and this shooter was most definitely doing his best to drive that home. Mack certainly didn’t want to add to it. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. There are things in the house that I don’t want to lose. Mainly the art, things like that. Everything is insured and all that, but I enjoy them, and it isn’t as though I can just replace them. What are you thinking?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t want you to be hurt.” He cleared his throat. “I never want any innocent person in my county to be hurt,” he clarified to hide his growing feelings.
“Let’s get there and see what’s happened.” Brantley held Rex closer, and the beagle licked a line up Brantley’s face.
A siren sounded, getting louder by the second. Zeb pulled up behind him and got out. “What happened?”
“The brakes failed. I think the brake line was cut. There was just enough fluid to get me out of town and then they failed. I think it happened last night. Can you take a look and see if you can fix it enough to get back into town?”
Zeb popped the hood and peered inside. “That’s what it was. But the brake fluid is gone. I’ll call for a tow, and I can fix it back in town, no problem.” He stepped back and closed the hood. After calling for a tow truck, they all piled in Zeb’s cruiser and drove to Brantley’s.
The ranch looked the same, but Mack was careful. “Let me check inside first. Hand me your keys.” He got out and walked to the front door, then used Brantley’s keys to unlock it. He went from room to room and found nothing and no one. He motioned for Brantley, who came with the dogs and Zeb.
Leo and Rex explored and eventually made themselves at home on Brantley’s sofa.
“Do you need help?” Mack asked while looking at a painting on the wall.
“I’m fine. Give me a few minutes,” Brantley said from the other room, and he came out a few minutes later. “That’s my favorite,” he said, standing close enough to where Mack was that Mack could feel the heat from his shoulder.
“I’ve seen that one before. Some of the guys had a print of it when I was in college. I always liked pop art, and Warhol was a favorite.” Mack leaned closer. “Is it a signed print?”
“No. It’s an original.”
Mack sputtered as he turned to Brantley. “Jesus. You’re kidding.”
“No. They’re all originals.” Brantley motioned through the room. “I didn’t live extravagantly, so when I did spend money, it was on these.”
Mack hadn’t paid much attention to the art in the room, but he whistled now that he knew they weren’t just for decoration. “These are… amazing.”
“I like to think so.”
“How did you get them here?” Mack asked.
“I had special cases made for each of them.”
“Then if you’re worried, I’d suggest packing them in the cases and we’ll find a safe place for them until your security equipment arrives and we can get it installed.” He couldn’t get over having this much in art just hanging on the walls. It blew his mind. They were right out in the open. “Go on.”
“Right now?”
“If you’re worried about them, then take care of it now. I have a few calls to make.”
Brantley set down his bag. “I put them in the bedroom.” He hurried away and returned with what looked like large briefcases with handles. He set them on the floor, made a second trip, and then opened the first and transferred the painting to a white silk bag and then into the case.
Mack stepped out of the way, watching Brantley work as he talked on the phone. He had to turn away when Brantley bent down, that glorious rear end waving in the air like a red cape in front of a bull.
Brantley repeated the process with each of the other, less iconic images, the dogs watching from their perch on the sofa. “Now what do we do?”
Mack was just finishing up. “Thanks.” He put his phone back in his pocket. “The truck is at the sheriff’s department garage. Now we need to transfer the art to the trunk.” He hoped there was room. “I called a friend at the bank. They have a secondary vault within the main one. At one time, they held gold from the Black Hills here on its way East. So they put in the extra security, and most of the time it’s empty now. They’ll rent it to you.”
“Oh God, that would be a huge load off my mind.” Brantley and Zeb took the cases out to the car, and after moving some of Zeb’s equipment to the floor of the backseat, they got them into the trunk and gently closed it.
Brantley got his bag, and Mack gathered the dogs. The car was loaded to the gills with everything once they left. Zeb drove them to the bank, where Brantley and the bank manager transferred the art into the vault. Then Zeb drove them home. Brantley went inside with his bag and the dogs, and Mack got into his cruiser to go into the station for a bit. He wanted to stay and keep Brantley safe, but the best way he could do that was to find out who was behind all this, and maybe without being distracted by every move Brantley made, he could make some progress.