WANTED (17 page)

With a firm grip on Nicky’s left hand, Wyatt managed to punch him. Hard. It was enough for Nicky’s head to flop back, and Wyatt reached for the man’s gun.

But the sound stopped him cold.

“Hold it right there, Wyatt,” someone said. “Move another inch, and you’re a dead man.”

Chapter Eighteen

Even though she was only inches away from grabbing Nicky’s gun from the barn floor, Lyla froze. Because the man who’d spoken that warning meant business.

It was Sheriff Zeke Mercer.

And he had a semiautomatic pointed right at Wyatt.

With just a glance of his narrowed gaze, Zeke issued a firm threat. If she tried to help, Wyatt would pay the price. And Zeke would shoot him, because in his mind, Wyatt was likely expendable.

All of them were.

Well, she would be after she faked that evidence. After that, she and her baby would be expendable, too.

“Get up,” Zeke ordered Wyatt. “And move away from Nicky. Our ride should be here any minute now, and we’ll be leaving.”

Wyatt did get up, slow and easy, and he volleyed glances between Zeke and the detonator. Nicky got up, too, retrieved his gun and pointed it not at Wyatt but at her. He knew that was the only way to keep Wyatt from going after him again.

And it worked.

She saw the fear, and the frustration, tighten Wyatt’s entire body.

“Told you I had a new boss,” Nicky bragged. “No way would I go back to work for Travis. Not with what Zeke pays me. And besides, me working for Zeke puts the blame right back on Travis. That’s why Zeke even pretended to rat out my location when he called you. But before he made that call, he had me in some place where the law would never get to me.”

“Shut up,” Zeke told the man, and he looked at Wyatt. “Now call Dallas and tell him to stay put,” Zeke instructed. “Not just him, all of them. Because we’ll detonate the bomb if any of them show up here. Oh, and put the call on speaker and don’t mention my name or the bomb. Because I will kill you if you do. And then I’ll kill all of them.”

That wasn’t a bluff. Neither was the bomb. That was probably why Wyatt made the call. “Stay away from the barn,” Wyatt told his brother. “I want the ranch hands kept back, too.”

“What’s going on?” Dallas demanded.

“Something that I have to ask you and the others to stay out of.” And with that, Wyatt put his phone in his shirt pocket, his gaze fixed on Zeke. “There’s no need for this.”

Zeke shook his head, and despite the cold wind battering him, he stayed put in the shattered doorway. “Yeah, there is a need.”

“Because it’ll be your voice on that tape,” Lyla continued when he didn’t add more. “Except there isn’t a tape.”

“Oh, there is. Sarah made one. She used to threaten me with it whenever she thought I might tell anyone what’d happened that night. It’s the reason Billy’s coming with us. I’ll let Nicky get the truth out of him, because I’m betting Sarah put copies somewhere. And I have to find those copies and destroy them.”

If Sarah had indeed done that, the copies hadn’t turned up, and Billy genuinely didn’t seem to know where they’d be. Of course, that didn’t matter. He’d die because of this after they tortured him to get information that he didn’t even have.

“Sarah could have been bluffing,” Lyla pointed out. “In fact, it could have been her insurance policy to keep you from coming after her.”

That realization flashed through Zeke’s eyes. Not a good realization, either, because he had to be thinking this was all for nothing.

“You killed my mother,” Billy said. His voice wasn’t too steady. Neither was he, and he looked ready to launch himself at Zeke.

“No, I did,” Nicky volunteered. “Sneaked into the hospital and then had my girlfriend call those other idiots and set them up. It was Zeke’s idea to go to the hospital, too, so he wouldn’t look guilty.”

“But you are guilty,” Wyatt stated through clenched teeth. “Let me guess. You and Webb had a falling-out over a business deal, and you were more than happy to help Sarah kill him.”

Zeke didn’t say a word. He only glanced behind him, no doubt looking for the vehicle that would come and collect them. Once they were away from the ranch, it was likely that the bomb would be detonated anyway.

Too many potential witnesses to leave behind.

“Webb got greedy. He wanted more of the cut they were making from the gunrunning that they were doing with some of the boys from Rocky Creek,” Nicky said, ignoring the glare that Zeke shot him.

Zeke suddenly didn’t seem nearly as confident and cocky as his hired gun, and he kept glancing back, looking for the vehicle.

Maybe one of the ranch hands or Wyatt’s brothers had managed to stop it. She hoped so, because once the vehicle arrived, their chances of escaping dwindled considerably.

“And what about Travis and Greg?” Wyatt asked. “Did they have anything to do with this?”

“No, but I wish Travis had,” Zeke mumbled. “I would have loved seeing his arrogant butt behind bars.”

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black. You killed my father for money,” Billy spat out. “You had no right to kill him. No one did.”

Zeke huffed. “You remember how he used to beat on you? And on you?” he added, tipping his head to Wyatt.

“I remember,” Wyatt answered, “but that isn’t why you killed him. It’s because he wanted a bigger cut of the illegal money you two were making.”

“I’m not admitting to anything,” Zeke snarled.

No, but the admission was there and unspoken. There would have been no reason for him to kill Sarah unless it was to cover up the fact that he was an accessory to murder.

“Did you ever see the recording that Sarah made?” Lyla pressed, though it was too late to convince Zeke that the recording didn’t exist. Still, she might be able to distract him in some way.

“No. But she said she had it hidden away where I could never find it. She said she recorded the tape during one of our conversations and that I’d mentioned something about my business dealings with her husband.”

“But not his murder,” Lyla pressed.

His forehead bunched up, and Zeke stopped, looking even more uneasy about all that he’d set into motion. He glanced up the road again. “The van’s here. Time to leave.” And he motioned for Lyla to come closer.

Wyatt stepped in front of her. “Webb deserved to die, but we don’t. Not just to cover up your crime.”

“You’re wrong. I’m not going to jail for anything. I’ll cover my tracks any way I need to.”

“That included having your goon kill my mother.” Billy’s hands tightened into fists.

Zeke didn’t seem to notice Billy’s reaction. The lights of the vehicle slashed through the hole and into the barn, and Zeke had to turn his eyes away. It was just a split-second distraction.

And the only one necessary.

With a feral sound screaming from his throat, Billy dove toward Zeke, crashing into the man and knocking him to the ground.

Nicky reacted, fast, moving toward his boss to protect him. But Wyatt reacted, too. He lunged forward, trying to catch onto Nicky’s arm before he could press the detonator.

Lyla started to move, too, but she didn’t get far before the sound stopped her.

A shot blasted through the barn.

* * *

W
YATT
PRAYED
THAT
the bullet hadn’t gone anywhere near Lyla, but he couldn’t look back to see if it had. Suddenly, he was in another fight with Nicky, and the man was still trying to hit that damn button on the detonator.

Nicky outweighed him by a good forty pounds, but he didn’t have nearly the motivation that Wyatt had. Lyla, the baby and his family were in danger, and he had to stop this dirt wad from killing them all. Of course, that wouldn’t stop the danger if he couldn’t do something about Zeke.

But one fight at a time.

Wyatt took hold of Nicky’s left hand, but the man kept a death grip on his gun. Wyatt’s own weapon was just out of reach, and he could let go of Nicky to get it. Lyla must have realized that because she rushed forward to help.

“Stay back,” Wyatt yelled.

She didn’t listen. Of course. Later, he’d chew her out for that. But she kicked the gun closer to his hand just as Nicky punched him so hard that Wyatt swore he saw stars. Before Wyatt could snatch up his gun, he heard the blast.

It was too close.

Maybe right at Lyla.

God. His heart skipped some beats, and he looked back, expecting to see the worst. But instead he saw Kirby. He was standing in the tack room door, his gun aimed at Nicky. He’d been the one to fire the shot and looked ready to fire a second.

But it wasn’t necessary.

Nicky was dead.

“Get the detonator,” Wyatt told Lyla. “Then stay down on the ground. There’ll be gunmen in that van.” He grabbed his Colt and raced toward Billy and Zeke, who were still in a scuffle on the floor.

“You need to tell Dallas to evacuate,” she called out to him.

“Dallas knows. I left my phone on after Zeke had me make that call. Dallas would have heard everything.”

He hoped. That was the plan anyway when Wyatt had risked not pressing the end-call button. If Zeke had noticed, he probably would have killed him.

And that’s exactly what he was trying to do to Billy now—kill him. Zeke had managed to hang on to his weapon and was trying to aim it so he could shoot Billy.

Outside the barn, Wyatt heard familiar voices. Busby, Dallas and Slade. He maneuvered himself around Billy and Zeke so he could stop the gunmen in the van from coming inside after them. But he looked out in just enough time to see Dallas slam one of the men against the van.

“Is everyone out of your house?” Wyatt asked him.

“Yeah. Thanks for the heads-up.”

Later Wyatt would say
you’re welcome.
But for now, all hell was breaking loose, and Wyatt had to make sure that no one fired any shots near Lyla. He tried to take aim at Zeke, but his and Billy’s bodies were in such a tangle that Wyatt didn’t have a clean shot.

So, he waited, watched. With his heart pounding in his throat and with every inch of his body on alert. Finally, he saw an opening in the scuffle, and when he got the chance, Wyatt leaned in and bashed the butt of his gun against Zeke’s head.

It worked.

The man stopped struggling, his hand dropping limply on the ground.

But Billy didn’t stop. He latched on to Zeke’s gun and came up, ready to fire. He took aim at Zeke’s heart.

“This is for killing my mother,” Billy said, putting his finger on the trigger.

“Don’t,” Wyatt warned him. Though he wasn’t sure what to say to stop Billy. Zeke had killed both of his parents and was planning to kill him. Still, at the moment, Zeke was unarmed.

“You’re not a murderer,” Wyatt told Billy.

“But I want him dead. You should want him dead, too. He nearly killed Lyla and your baby.”

“I know.” And Wyatt had to tamp down the anger. No, it was rage. But the rage faded considerably when he felt Lyla’s hand brush over his arm.

“Zeke will get his punishment in prison, Billy,” Lyla said. Her voice was soft. Almost soothing. He wasn’t sure how he managed it, because when he looked into her eyes, Wyatt saw the aftermath of the fear that was no doubt mirrored in his.

“If you think this ends anything,” Zeke snapped, “it doesn’t.” With venom in his eyes, he looked at Kirby, then Wyatt. “When I give my statement, I’ll just tell everyone that you helped Sarah and me hide Webb’s body.”

“Then you’d be lying,” Kirby said.

“Would I?” The corner of Zeke’s mouth lifted into a twisted smile. “Something like that can follow a man around for a lifetime. Wouldn’t hurt Kirby much, since he’s retired, but all his boys would have to listen to the whispers about taking the law into their own hands. But if you convince Billy here to pull the trigger, then I’ll have no statement to make.”

Wyatt wanted his name cleared. His family’s too. But not at the cost of coaxing Billy to kill an unarmed man.

“Not all lawmen are capable of murder,” Kirby told Zeke.

Zeke chuckled. “Yeah. You are. So, what will it be? If I’m dead, there’ll be no one to point a finger at you and these boys you’ve worked so hard to protect. And as for me, death would be welcome.”

Yeah, because Zeke wouldn’t end up in prison with men he’d help to put there. Even if they couldn’t pin accessory to Webb’s murder on Zeke, he would still be charged with orchestrating Sarah’s murder and the attacks on Lyla and him. That would be a life sentence, at least, and with no possibility of parole.

The next moments crawled by. Billy, with the gun still ready to end Zeke’s life. Zeke, staring up at them and not offering one bit of remorse or regret for anyone but himself.

But it didn’t matter.

The realization hit Wyatt. It didn’t matter why Zeke had done what he’d done. It only mattered that Lyla and his family were safe.

Wyatt extended his hand. “Billy, I need the gun.” And he made sure he sounded like the lawman that he was. The one that Kirby had trained him to be.

With all eyes on him and with his hand shaking, Billy finally gave Wyatt the gun.

Wyatt released the breath he’d been holding, and while Kirby held Zeke at gunpoint, Wyatt pulled Lyla into his arms. The embrace didn’t last long, and he barely had enough time to check and make sure she was okay.

There wasn’t a scratch on her.

That was another prayer answered. There’d been a bunch of those tonight.

“These are the guys who were on the road near my place,” Dallas explained, and Wyatt went out to help him contain the men who’d been in the van. “Sheriff Geary’s on his way back to help us arrest every one of them. Zeke, too.” He said the man’s name as if it was profanity. “I want him taken to the marshals’ office and thrown into jail.”

Wyatt looked around. “We need to get a bomb squad out here to sweep every inch of the ranch.” Which would mean they would all end up in town at a hotel for the night.

“You should see to Lyla.” Dallas tipped his head toward her. “She doesn’t look too steady on her feet.”

She didn’t. And even though there was plenty that Wyatt needed to be doing to get these gunmen off the property, he went to her.

Yeah, definitely not steady.

He hooked his arm around her and moved her against one of the barn posts. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I just realized it’s over.”

Wyatt got the feeling she was talking about more than just the danger.

Lyla pulled away from him, dodged his gaze. “I can go home now.”