Taking Charge (Lone Star Burn #4)(70)
“Don’t do anything foolish, David,” Wyatt warned.
David wasn’t completely sure if Sheriff Dodd had been bought out by York. He believed it was unlikely, but to be safe, Wyatt would also make sure there was someone else there to witness whatever happened.
David would have answered, but his vehicle jerked forward as York slammed his truck into the back of David’s. He dropped his phone into his shirt pocket and grabbed the steering wheel with both hands to steady the vehicle.
York rammed his truck into the back of David’s classic pickup again, then moved off to one side and tried to run the truck off the road. David sped up and moved his truck to the middle of the road, praying no one would come from the other direction. He didn’t need to outrun York forever, just long enough for the sheriff to get there. If the plan worked, York would be angry, drunk, or just plain stupid enough to say something in front of the sheriff that would get him arrested. If it went south, the sheriff wouldn’t have to wait for David to turn himself in for killing York. He could cuff him while he still stood over the man’s bloody body. One way or another, York’s reign over Mavis would end that day.
In the distance, David saw a car headed their way and swore. He moved into the right lane, and York quickly took advantage of that opportunity. He swung his truck into the lane beside David’s and forced him off the road.
David would have kept driving, but one of his wheels caught in a ditch and his truck rolled. He hit his head several times before the vehicle came to a rest on its side. Dazed, David released his seat belt and wiped blood from one of his eyes. Shit.
York pulled up beside David’s truck and got out with a gun in his hand. The car that had been coming in the other direction pulled over, and a young man got out. “Is anyone hurt?”
York looked away, and David used the chance to push up the passenger door and haul himself out. There was no time to bring his rifle with him. He tried to wave the man away, but it was too late. The man saw the gun in York’s hand and asked, “What’s going on?”
York snarled, “If you like your job, Bill, get back in your car and drive away.”
Bill looked past York and saw David standing beside his truck waving for him to go. “Put the gun away, Mr. York. Nothing Harmon has done is worth shooting him over.”
David stepped away from the truck. If he could get a little closer, he might be able to knock the gun out of York’s hand. His vision blurred temporarily from blood dripping down his forehead. He wiped it away, but the move caught York’s attention, and he swung back toward David.
“Not such a big man now, are you, Harmon?” York asked snidely. “I hope you beg me not to shoot you. I still will, but hearing you beg would make up for the trouble you’ve caused this town.”
“This town or you, York?” David growled. “You don’t have to do this, you know. There is still time to stop before you go too far.”
“Too far? I should have killed you the first time I met you. I knew you’d be trouble. But I thought I could scare you off. My mistake.”
“Is killing me worth going to prison?” David asked, hoping to stall him enough for the sheriff to arrive.
“Prison? I’m not going to prison. My family owns this town.”
David nodded toward the dented truck. “Someone will see the evidence and follow it back to you. You may think the whole town is on your payroll, but it’s not.”
York let out an evil laugh. “This truck isn’t even mine. One of my men left it at my place. It’ll be my word against his if they link it to your death.”
Behind York, Bill said, “I can’t let you do this.”
York turned slowly and, before either David or Bill had time to react, he shot him. Bill crumpled to the ground, and David ran to his side. Bill gasped for air, but the shot had gone through his shoulder. Though he was bleeding profusely, he’d live. If York didn’t shoot him again.
David stood between the man and York. He regretted not grabbing his rifle. He’d hoped to have time for that once Bill left. It was a mistake they might both pay for with their lives. York was sweaty and nervous. He wasn’t an experienced killer, and David intended to take advantage of that. “Tell me, York, how do you intend to drive back to town? You can’t use the truck you came in. Not if you want it to look like someone else killed me. You can’t take Bill’s. Did you think about that?”
York looked at the three vehicles as if that part of the plan hadn’t occurred to him. “Shut up. I need to think.”
“You won’t have time to walk anywhere. Not once the law comes. I called the sheriff already.”
York’s hand shook with the gun in it. “No, you didn’t.”
David shrugged. “You’d better be pretty damn sure before you shoot me. Texas has the death penalty, and no one looks kindly on murdering unarmed people.” A siren in the distance announced the arrival of the sheriff. “There he is now. You can kill me, but then you’ll need to kill Bill and the sheriff, too. That’s a whole lot of murders. And I hear there is a fast track to death row when you kill a lawman.”
York looked close to pissing himself, but he still had the gun aimed at David. “I’ll tell the sheriff you shot Bill. Bill, if you don’t want to die, you’ll say that’s what happened. Do you understand me?”