Blood Lines

45

›› Rafter M Ranch

›› Outside Fort Davis, Texas

›› 2204 Hours (Central Time Zone)

Please, God, don’t let my daddy be dead. As he ran, Don knew he sounded like a child. But that was all right. In God’s eyes they were all children. They were supposed to turn to him in times of need and fear. God was a daddy too.

Over the years, Don had known he’d enjoyed a closer relationship with God than he had with his earthly father, especially since he’d been called to lead the church. God had pulled him to that, and Don had never doubted that a day in his life. He suspected that even if he were close to his daddy, he’d still have been closer to God.

Don ran as fast as he could, but he couldn’t match Shel’s speed. Ultimately Don knew he was going to lose, but the thing that worried him most was that some of the bikers might yet remain at the house, or that Daddy might accidentally shoot them while thinking they were the bikers.

That fear and the adrenaline lent wings to Don’s feet. He was less than a hundred yards behind his brother when Shel reached the ranch house.

Shel hunkered down behind the big pecan tree in the front yard. Mama had asked Daddy to put that tree in, and she’d made pies from what they’d gathered every year after it started producing. For a long time after Mama’s death, Daddy had gathered the nuts every year and given them away. Then when Don married Joanie, he’d given the pecans to her. They’d given Daddy pies back. Lately Don’s kids had gathered the pecans.

Out of breath, afraid that he was about to throw up from the exertion and nerves, Don bent over and rested his hands on his knees.

Shel faced him, his features calm and set like stone. “I want you to stay here, Don.”

“Why?” Don gasped.

“Just stay here.” Shel’s voice was hard and clipped. It was his big-brother voice. After all these years, it hadn’t gone away. But it had been a long time since Don had heard it.

“All right,” Don said. He was used to telling Shel whatever he needed to in order to mollify him.

Shel approached the house at a measured run. He signaled to Max, and the Labrador took the lead and stayed to the left.

Don noticed that Shel was going to the rear of the house, obviously circling it. When he knew Shel was too far away to stop him, Don took off like a shot and ran for the front door.

He flattened up against the door like the television cops he enjoyed watching every now and again. Those shows were his one guilty pleasure. He’d sometimes imagined what it might be like going with Shel in his NCIS work.

What it turned out to be was scary. Don’s heart beat so hard and so fast he thought it was going to rip right out of his chest.

“Daddy?” Don called. “Daddy? It’s Don. Are you in there?”

There was no answer.

God, please watch over us right now. Keep us close. Marshaling his courage, Don tried the door. It was locked, but that made him feel better. If he had to use his key to get in, maybe everything was all right.

Inside the house, Don almost turned on a light out of habit. He caught himself just in time and stopped. Turning the light on would have made him an instant target.

He went through the house quickly, working from the living room to the back of the house, where Daddy’s bedroom was.

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.”