Bitter laughter. “I’ll never be out, and you know it.”

“It was your choice.”

“Don’t I fucking know it. But it wasn’t my choice to shoot that girl.”

Ollie stopped breathing. Kaylie?

“She was about to blow everything open and put it online. She got too close. We didn’t have a choice.”

Tabitha Huff. Ollie closed his eyes.

“If we didn’t have a choice, then how come I do all the shit work?”

“You didn’t help me with Leah.”

Who?

“That was your fucking ugly business.”

The engine of the ATV came to life, and Ollie scooted closer, trying to listen over its noise. He could still hear the men’s voices, but not the words. He peered through a thin spot in the hedge. Mercy’s Tahoe was between him and the men. Moving to his hands and knees, he crawled through, the wiry branches scratching his face and arms. He dashed to the Tahoe and crouched low, moving around to the front of the vehicle.

“You sure you want to do this? She’s a federal agent.”

“I’ve got no choice.”

The ATV’s tires crunched over some gravel, and after a moment Ollie saw the men head south on the ATV through one of Bree’s fields. Each had a rifle slung over a shoulder.

Mercy.

He dialed her number. Voice mail. “Dammit!”

He hit Truman’s number again.

Truman waited at the bar for his sandwich. He hadn’t been able to get Nick Walker’s turkey club out of his head after his talk with Ina. On the walk back to town, he’d stopped back into Leaky’s and ordered a club to go for dinner, knowing he’d be working late. He pulled out his phone as he waited and noted he’d missed a call from Mercy and one from Ollie. He listened to Mercy’s recording. Horseback? With Sandy? He grinned at the thought of her on a horse, and his curiosity was piqued by her vague reference to a theory.

Must not be worth mentioning yet.

Fine with him. He started to open Ollie’s voice mail.

“Evening, Truman.”

Karl Kilpatrick pulled out and sat on the stool next to him. He held up a finger at the bartender, who nodded.

Truman put his phone back in his pocket. “Evening, Karl. On your own for dinner tonight?”

“Yep. Deborah didn’t want to leave the hospital, but I’ve got animals to feed.”

“Gotta feed yourself first,” Truman said with a grin.

“Damn right. Deborah is an incredible cook, but sometimes I just want a beer and burger by myself.”

Truman nodded. “Any news on Kaylie?”

“No change. The doctors say that’s good news. She was awake while I was there. Poor kid.” His face was glum.

“She’s tough, but it will take a long time to move past this.”

“She’s had enough trauma in her life.” Anger flashed in Karl’s eyes.

Does he still hold Mercy responsible for his son’s murder?

Truman kept his mouth shut. Karl and Mercy’s issues were their own. He noticed Karl seemed thinner than usual. He’d always been a tall, lanky man, but his face was narrower and the skin under his chin looser. Mercy had mentioned her father hadn’t looked well the last time she saw him. Truman had to agree.

He knew better than to ask. You didn’t ask men like Karl about their health. That was private. He would stay mum about an illness until he fell over dead.

That’s his right.

Besides, Deborah would inform the family if there were a real problem.

“That agent get fired for shooting Victor Diehl yet?” Karl asked, his eyes sharp under bushy eyebrows. “Man was just living his life.”

Truman counted to ten. “Diehl shot Eddie Peterson. And then pointed a gun at two agents at close range.” He purposefully didn’t mention that one of those agents was Karl’s daughter. Karl knew that fact; Mercy had told him herself.

“They had no business being on his property.”

“I’m not the person to talk to about this. If you have a problem, take it up with the FBI.”

“Hmph.” The bartender set a beer before Karl, and he took a long draw. The tavern briefly lit up as the front door opened. Truman did a double take as he recognized Samuel’s profile in the light. He held up a hand in greeting to his officer. Samuel’s jaw was tight and his eyes hard.

Uh-oh. What happened?

“Truman. Karl.” Samuel nodded at Mercy’s father and then focused on Truman, his expression completely businesslike. “I’ve been looking into the finances of Sandy’s B&B like you asked me to.” His tone was grim. “That place almost went tits up several years ago.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. Sandy said it’s been a hard road,” said Truman, unease growing in his belly. Samuel clearly had something on his mind.

“She had a lot of repairs and remodeling done one year. I hunted down her contractor because I found it odd since she was virtually broke. He said she paid every single bill immediately—and some of them were pretty big invoices—in cash.”

Truman’s skin crawled. “That’s what cash is for.”

Exasperation crossed Samuel’s face. “One time she invited him into her office to pay him. Shocked the hell out of him when she opened a small safe right in front of him and counted out three thousand dollars.”

Truman stared at Samuel.

“And he could see more cash in the safe.”

“That’s a lot of money,” said Karl, who’d been blatantly eavesdropping.

Truman’s phone rang. Ollie.

“Hey—”

“Truman! I found the truck and I found the guy and he and another guy are headed out on an ATV and Mercy’s truck is here too and they’ve got rifles—”

“Ollie. Slow the fuck down. What are you talking about?” Did he say “rifles”? Anxiety bloomed in the base of his spine.

The boy sucked in a breath. “I followed a red truck. They went to Bree’s,” he said in a staccato. “I think Mercy is here somewhere and they said they’re looking for her.”

The anxiety shot up his spinal cord, giving him an instant headache. “Did you see Mercy?”

Karl turned and looked at him sharply.

“No. Her Tahoe is here. They got on an ATV and headed across a field . . . One of them said he shot Tabitha Huff. And one asked the other if he wanted to do this to a federal agent.”

Holy shit. Truman steadied his breathing. “Did you say ‘rifles’ before?”

“Yes. Each had a rifle.”

Mercy said she was going somewhere on horseback with Sandy.

“Ollie, is Sandy’s Ford Explorer there?”

“There’s one here. I dunno whose it is.”

“Shit.” Truman’s mouth went dry.

“What do I do, Truman? I can’t follow them.” Ollie’s voice shook.

“I know. It’s okay, Ollie. Mercy told me where they were going.” His mind raced with panic as he tried to calm the teen. I have no idea how to find the place she mentioned.

“Where?”

“Horse’s Head Rock.”

Karl’s eyebrows shot up.

“You know where that is?” Truman asked Karl, who nodded. “Ollie, stay there. I’m going to send Ben to get you.”

“I can drive.”

“Stay put anyway.”

THIRTY-FIVE

“How do I get there?”

Adrenaline pumped through Truman. He and Samuel focused on Karl Kilpatrick. The closest person at his disposal who knew how to get to Horse’s Head Rock.

“Helicopter would be the best way,” Karl said, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes pensive.

“Helicopter? Karl . . . do you really think I can afford a helicopter? I’m lucky to have all our department vehicles running smoothly at once.”

“How about asking the FBI to pay for it? I’m sure they have the big bucks.”

“Is this horse head location that remote?” Samuel asked.

“Yup.” Karl looked from one man to the other.

“Mercy said she was riding in,” Truman told him. “If you can get there by horseback, you should be able to get there by four-wheel drive.”

“Nope. Not happening. There’s a dense forest and rocks to wind through. Got a dirt bike?”

“Jesus Christ.” Truman felt time ticking away. “Mercy is being followed by two guys with rifles. One of them killed that reporter, and I’m wondering if one of them shot your granddaughter.” He glared at Karl. “One theory is that they thought they were firing at Mercy. Ollie just told me they mentioned Mercy specifically.”

Karl held his gaze. “Your best bet is getting in on horseback.”

“How do I do that?”

“I can loan you a couple of mounts. You ride?” He included Samuel in the question, who nodded immediately.

“I rode when I was a teen,” Truman said. Summers with his uncle had included many hours on horseback. Usually drunken escapades with friends.

“Then you’ll do fine. The best way in to Horse’s Head Rock is off Old Sherman Road.”

“Mercy and Sandy left from Bree Ingram’s house.”

Karl nodded. “I can see how they’d get there from that location. Old Sherman is a lot faster. Still remote and dense but faster.”

“Perfect. You can get horses there?”

“Yep. Let me call one of my guys. He can load them up and meet us there.”

“Thank you, Karl.” Truman’s heart slowed the slightest bit. We have a plan. Karl pulled out his cell phone, and Truman glanced at Samuel, who didn’t look pleased. “What?”

“Those guys are on ATVs. They’ll be way ahead of us.”

“Got any other ideas?”

“No.” He looked away, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “Was I wrong about Sandy?” he asked in a low voice.