Blood Lines (47 page)

When he saw the broken window, Don almost cried out in fear. He made himself stay quiet. At the window, he looked down and saw two men lying in obvious death on the ground. Shel was squatted beside them.

“I told you to stay back,” Shel said without looking up.

“I couldn't,” Don said. “Is that . . . ?” He couldn't say it.

“It's not Daddy,” Shel said.

Thank God.

“But Daddy killed them both.”

“How do you know that?”

“They've each been shot once,” Shel said. “One through the head and the other through the heart. At a distance, that's not such a big deal. But killing a man up close like this . . . and two of 'em, one right after the other?” He shook his head. “That takes some real nerve.”

“They would have killed Daddy if he hadn't killed them first,” Don objected.

Shel stood and looked around. “I know. I wasn't faulting him, Don. I'm just impressed. Taking a life ain't like it is on television. Especially not if you've already done it before.” He paused. “You either learn to accept the need and that dark part of you that can do it, or you eventually get yourself killed. Not every law enforcement person I know could handle something like this. That's all I was saying.”

But Don knew his brother well enough to know that Shel was saying more. Evidently Daddy didn't hesitate when it came to killing someone else.

That wasn't any different than Shel, though, was it? Don didn't know the answer. Another question was on his mind.

“Where's Daddy?”

“I don't know.” Shel took off walking. “His truck's still out front. There's only one other way he could have gotten away.”

Don took a final look at the two dead men, then climbed through the window and followed Shel to the barn.

>> 2209 Hours (Central Time Zone)

Although Don followed him and he didn't want to place his brother in peril, Shel ignored the potential danger. He felt that whatever threat had existed was gone.

Daddy's gone.

That realization haunted Shel, but he felt it was true. He couldn't have said how he knew, but he was aware of an emptiness that had never been at the ranch before. Even when Mama had died, the emptiness had never felt that big.

“He's not here, is he?” Don asked.

Shel didn't answer. He kept his pistol trained on the prone figure lying in front of the barn door. The man didn't move. Moonlight silvered the man's staring eyes.

When Shel reached the man, he kicked the M4 away, then knelt and placed his free hand against the man's carotid artery. Only cooling flesh met Shel's touch.

“Is he dead?” Don asked.

“Yeah.”

“They just left him behind like that?”

“In case you're counting, they left the other two behind too. I don't think the Purple Royals are big on friendship once somebody's dead.” Shel stood. “Three men. In the dark.” He shook his head. “That's something.”

“What?” Don looked at him in disbelief.

“I'm just saying, is all,” Shel replied. “A lot of men came after Daddy.” Pride swelled inside his chest. “If he hadn't gotten away, he might have killed more of them. Then again, since this place is his and he knows every inch of it, he might have killed them all.”

“How do you know Daddy got away?”

Shel took his penflash out and played it over the ground. The light showed the heavy horseshoes that scored the ground. The earth was still dark and hadn't dried out yet.

“I'll bet that mare of his is missing.” Shel put the penflash away and walked into the barn.

A brief check revealed that the horse was gone, but Tyrel McHenry's saddle still hung on the tack wall.

“He went out light,” Shel said. “Rode bareback.” He walked back outside. Farther down the road leading up to the house, a few of the deputies were headed toward them.

“Do you think Daddy headed out to get the police?” Don asked.

“No.” Sadness filled Shel's heart as he realized what he truly thought. “I think Daddy's lit a shuck for the quickest way out of here. I'm guessing he'll be in El Paso come morning. He'll be in Mexico City shortly after that.”

“That's insane,” Don whispered, but Shel knew his brother was starting to realize that what he was saying was true. “Daddy wouldn't just run off in the middle of the night.”

“Yeah,” Shel said, “he would. He had all this worked out, Don. That's why he didn't hang around but decided to take his chances on riding that mare out of here.”

“Why?”

“Because Daddy's got military murder charges hanging over him if Victor Gant tells anyone what happened in Qui Nhon. And the military executes soldiers who murder other soldiers. Even if it was forty years ago.”

Don was silent for a moment, and Shel dreaded the question he was certain his brother was going to ask next. It was inevitable, though. A similar question had come from the mouths of dozens of family members Shel had gotten to know during his service with NCIS.

“Do you really . . . do you . . . think Daddy murdered somebody?”

Shel blew his breath out and looked at Don. It hurt him to hurt Don by taking away his hope. But Shel believed that if people faced facts sooner, it got easier in the long run.

“Daddy ran, Don.”

“Maybe he just went for help.”

“It was safer to stay here than to try to get away on that horse. Daddy lit out because he didn't want to be here when the police arrived. If he didn't kill Victor Gant—and there was no way he could be sure of doing that with all those men hunting him—then he knew Gant could get taken into custody. Then the story about the murder would come out. Daddy couldn't afford to stay.”

“I can't believe he just ran like that,” Don whispered.

“Daddy's been running for forty years. We just never knew it.”

46

>> Rafter M Ranch

>> Outside Fort Davis, Texas

>> 1038 Hours (Central Time Zone)

“Must be a slow news day,” Estrella commented from the passenger seat. Her displeasure showed in her frown as she regarded the sight.

Will looked at the road ahead and curbed the impatience and frustration that filled him. Ahead, the road was choked by news vehicles and local gawkers. And not everyone had gotten there by car or pickup; a few horses grazed while they were tied to the fence that ran around the Rafter M.

“It's a small town,” Will said. “Everybody here knows everybody else.”

“Or thinks they do,” Nita said from the backseat. “Till something like this happens.”

Tall and red-haired, the team's medical examiner peered forward between the two front seats. Normally she was lean, but she was five months pregnant these days. Her hand unconsciously glided across her stomach as Will checked on her in the rearview mirror. She was only just starting to show.

“Small towns are good to live in,” Nita went on. “Everybody knows you. Of course, small towns are also bad to live in. Because everyone knows you.”

Will silently agreed. “Are you doing all right?”

Nita met his gaze in the rearview mirror and smiled self-consciously. “I'm fine.”

“I wouldn't have asked you to come out here if it hadn't been Shel involved.”

“With Shel involved,” Nita told him, “I'd have been seriously irked if you hadn't asked me.”

Will offered her a wan smile. Since she'd come to terms with the issues in her private life and rededicated herself to her husband and daughter, Nita carried a peace about her that Will couldn't help noticing.

“What do you hope to find out here?” Nita asked.

“I don't know,” Will answered honestly. “But with the lengths Victor Gant is going to, I want every edge I can get.”

A uniformed deputy waved him to a stop. Will rolled the window down.

“I'm afraid I can't let you go any farther, sir,” the deputy said with polite efficiency.

“Who's in charge of this investigation?” Will asked.

“That'd be Sheriff Conover, but he's a mighty busy man right now.”

Will showed the deputy his NCIS ID. “Get him for me, would you?”

The deputy used the handi-talker on his shoulder and called for the sheriff.

Will got out of the rented car and stretched. He was dead tired. When Shel had called him last night and let him know everything that had transpired, Will had called the team in immediately and requisitioned a jet to get them to Fort Davis. Director Larkin had greased the wheels, and a jet had been standing by when Will arrived at the airport.

Maggie parked the second SUV they'd rented. With all the gear the team packed, they needed multiple vehicles. Remy parked a third SUV behind her, then got out and flashed his ID at the deputy who was trying to wave him off.

A couple minutes later, Sheriff Conover made his way through the crowd and reached Will. He was a tall, thick man with a fierce mustache, a big hat, and mirrored sunglasses.

“Commander Coburn?” the sheriff asked. His gruff voice matched his exterior.

Will nodded and offered his hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” Conover said. “Pity it couldn't be under more pleasant circumstances.”

“Where's my agent?” Will asked as he took his hand back.

“Up to the house. Since he's a trained forensics person, I figured it wouldn't hurt none to have him help out some.”

“Some lawyer could argue that Gunnery Sergeant McHenry's presence here could compromise the evidence. He has a vested interest.”

Conover smiled. “I figure a dumb attorney could work up to that song and dance, see how it flew for a judge at an inquest, but a smart one would realize we got a mess of dead bikers here that ain't local. And this trouble followed Shel's family home from your neck of the woods. Wasn't nothing started here.”

Will nodded.

“More'n that,” Conover said, “I ain't got enough boys out here to lock Shel out of this.” He paused. “I assume you people are gonna take over this investigation?”

“With the family of one of my team in danger like this? You know it.”

“They killed one of my deputies last night,” Conover said. “He was a good man. A family man. Shel tells me you're good at what you do, so I'm gonna back your play. Anything you need from me, you consider it yours.”

“I appreciate that,” Will said.

>> 1052 Hours (Central Time Zone)

Don was sitting on the front porch steps and talking on a cell phone when Will arrived. When he saw Will, Don folded the phone, put it away, and got up.

“How are you doing?” Will asked.

“It's tough,” Don admitted. “The main thing is that no one knows where Daddy is. Or if he's all right. I've been praying about it since we found him gone.”

“The sheriff said he'd put a BOLO out on your father,” Will said. A BOLO was a Be On the LookOut order. It was usually accompanied by a description. In this case, the sheriff had posted pictures of Tyrel McHenry. “They'll find him.”