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)
She doesn’t reply.
“Who the hell is that woman in the hospital, Brittany? Sabrina Smith?”
“I told you,” Brittany says, trembling. “She’s Pat’s grandmother.”
“All right. Does that mean she was once married to William Elijah Steel?”
Dad is beginning to redden, and I see the rage building up in him. And man, I want him to put down that gun. I want him to put down that gun so badly. Red Joe shouldn’t be holding a gun on anyone.
“I don’t know anything about William Steel,” Brittany says.
“Don’t you? If you left all that stuff for Donny, then you are the reason we know about this horrible stuff going on at our property.”
“I don’t—”
“Save it.” This from Dad.
His voice sounds like it’s powering straight up from hell.
“You will level with us now, Brittany. Or I swear to God, I will send a bullet through your father’s skull.”
She collapses in a heap of sobs.
Part of me wants to comfort her. Part of me wants to grab the gun out of my father’s hand and shoot her.
And man, I really don’t like that thought, but I can’t deny its existence.
But is she the enemy? If not for her, we’d still be ignorant about what’s happening on our property. Is she protecting her father? Or is she protecting Pat Lamone?
She’s not protecting us.
“Stop your whining,” Dad says in his hellish voice. “And start talking because I’m not kidding. I’ll shoot your damned father. I don’t give a rat’s ass whether he lives or dies.”
Brittany sniffles. “All right, all right. Please just don’t hurt my daddy.”
“Talk,” I say.
“He needs to take the gun off my father.”
“I will not,” Dad says.
“He can’t, Brittany. How else do we know that you’ll talk?”
“I promise, I promise. I’ll talk. But not until you take the gun off him.”
“This may be new to you,” Dad says, “but normally the person holding the gun makes the demands. You don’t. So start talking now, or I will end your father’s life.”
Brittany gulps back her sobs and suppresses a shiver. “My dad never told me what he was doing, but I figured it out.”
“How?” Doc demands.
“I’m not stupid, Daddy. I have access to all your computers. You know this.”
“But why would you go through my stuff?”
“Because I wanted to know what was going on. I saw you going out to the kennels that night. And then, all of a sudden, all our bills were paid. I figured it out.”
“So you knew…”
She shakes her head. “I didn’t know exactly what you were doing. I just knew it wasn’t on the up-and-up. So I followed you.”
“How could you follow me to the barns? There aren’t any roads to get there.”
“I hid in the back of your truck one night after you thought I’d gone to bed.”
Doc’s head falls into his hands. “Damn…” He looks up. “The safe. How did you know the combination?”
“That wasn’t difficult to figure out. I tried several combinations of numbers I knew were important to you.”
Twenty-four.
Forty-seven.
Three.
How are those numbers important? Does it even matter?
Brittany gulps. “It’s not too late, Daddy. Maybe the Steels will strike a deal with you. Maybe they’ll let you off the hook if you help them.”
“Don’t bet on it,” Dad says.
“I’d help you if I could, Joe,” Doc says. “These people don’t exactly deal in the daylight.”
“I’m betting,” I muse, “that if I take this ring to a gemstone specialist, I’ll find out that it’s a complete fake, won’t I, Brittany?”
“Yes.” She gulps. “I found the original, and I took it to a jeweler in Grand Junction. He duplicated it. This is sterling silver covered in white gold plate and cubic zirconia in the right color.”
“How did you know it belonged to us?” I ask.
Brittany gulps again. “I didn’t. But when I found out how much the original was worth, I knew that if I left it for one of you along with the GPS coordinates, you would pay attention.”
“What got our attention more than that was the fact that you were able to get into the house. Uncle Talon’s house.”
“That was simple enough,” Brittany says. “I did it myself. Once Talon was shot, I went over to offer my condolences, and only Darla, the housekeeper, was home. She let me come in, and I asked to use the bathroom. It was simple enough after that to place it in Donny’s cabinet.”
“Why Donny?” I ask.
“Because I knew he was home, and I knew he would find it. And I had a reason—offering sympathy for the shooting—for getting into the house. It was the simplest way.”
“And how did you open the safe-deposit box in Denver?” I ask.
“Pat helped with that.”
“Of course. Pat.”
“You’re saying Pat Lamone knows all about this?” my father asks.
“Yes. He knows. And he has every right to know. He’s one of you, after all.”
“I wouldn’t take that to the bank,” Dad says.