Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 78227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Big lie, but what the hell?
She bites her lower lip, wrings her hands together. “I never wanted to do any of it.”
“Why did you, then?”
“Pat. He can be very…persuasive.”
“So he persuaded you to steal the drugs from your father’s clinic?”
“I researched it thoroughly. I made sure that Rory and Callie would not be harmed.”
I hold back a scoff. She’s ready to talk, so now is not the time to piss her off. But damn…
My father taught me when I was a young man that you never harm a woman. Never. She can be beating you black and blue, but you do not strike her back. Ever. It’s the law of being a man.
I really want to break that law at this moment.
But I won’t. I will not be that guy.
“Well, that’s good,” I say. “Exactly what kind of research did you do?”
“I asked my father.”
I keep my jaw from dropping. “So your father knew what you were up to?”
“Oh, no, of course not. I just asked him how the substance would affect humans of a certain weight.”
“All right.” I draw in a deep breath and hold it for a few seconds, counting to ten. I exhale and draw in another one. This time I count to fifteen. When I finally feel like I can speak without anger, I meet Brittany’s gaze. “Tell me what you know about atropine, Brittany.”
Her eyes widen. “You know about that, too?”
Oh God…
“How could you?” I say. “How could you use an innocent baby like that?”
Her mouth drops into an O as she gasps. “What are you talking about? I would never hurt a baby.”
I don’t want to give this woman any credit, but she looks absolutely horrified.
If I had to bank my fortune one way or the other in this moment, I would bet that Brittany doesn’t know about Janine Murray and her baby.
I don’t want to give too much away, but I have to know. “My uncle was poisoned while he was in the hospital recovering from the gunshot wound. A nurse poisoned him.”
Brittany gasps. “A nurse?”
“Yes. A nurse. She was forced to. Her child was threatened.”
“Oh my God. Oh my God, oh my God.”
“You supplied that atropine, didn’t you?”
“I… I don’t know, Brock. Please, you’ve got to believe me.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“The atropine. Pat did ask me for some. But I told him no. We had a huge argument about it.”
“You didn’t give it to him?”
“I didn’t.”
“Then why did you ask if I knew about the atropine?”
Brittany grips the sides of her head. “Oh God. Oh God oh God.”
“Who, Brittany?” I take a step forward. “Who the fuck are you protecting?”
She steps back. “I can’t. You won’t understand.”
She’s got that right. I don’t understand any of this. But I will play my part, and I will play it well. “Try me. Maybe I will understand. After all, you’re talking to a man who will do anything to protect the people he loves.”
“My father and I… All we have is each other. He worked so hard to make a life for us after Mom died.”
“Are you telling me—”
“I’m telling you that I would do anything for him.”
“Is he the person you’re protecting?” I say through gritted teeth.
“I can’t…”
“Tell me, Brittany. What the fuck is your father up to?”
“Just his veterinary practice. And his guard-dog business here in Wyoming.”
“What might we find on our leased land? That tract of land that is adjacent to your property?”
Brittany shakes her head, chokes back a sob. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You didn’t know that your father leases property from the Steel family?”
“No, I swear, Brock. I didn’t know.”
I look over my shoulder. My father and Doc Sheraton are still in the house. Good.
Barking comes from the kennels. Low mostly, but sometimes shrill.
The sound makes my ears ache.
“Brittany, has your father made any large purchases lately?”
“What do you mean?”
“Cars? Jewelry? Anything like that?”
She scrunches her forehead. “I don’t know. Nothing that I’ve noticed.”
“How about expensive dinners?”
“I cook for my father. I always have.”
She doesn’t know. And all of this shit started about ten years ago, when my father and Uncle Bryce did not offer Doc Sheraton a full-time job with our ranch.
Right around the same time Pat Lamone and Brittany Sheraton formed their own grudges against our family.
That feeling again…
That shadow of impending doom…
If only…
“Brittany, does your father own a gun?”
She sniffs. “Yes. A couple of shotguns and a pistol.”
“What kind of pistol?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about guns. I hate them.”
Surely Doc Sheraton wouldn’t be stupid enough to shoot my uncle with his own gun. That would be suicide. So really, any guns he owns that Brittany would know about have no bearing on the situation.
“Is he a good shot?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
“Does he ever go to the shooting range? With his pistol?”