Texas Outlaw (Rory Yates #2)(52)

He doesn’t stop glowering at me.

“She could still be on foot,” I say, acting like his glare isn’t bothering me. “You ought to get your patrol officers doing sweeps around town. We’ve got work to do, Chief. Let’s get to it.”

Finally, he looks away and storms out of the house. I follow, keeping back far enough that when Tom starts snapping pictures of the chief walking out looking furious, I won’t get in the frame.

“Go home, Tom!” Harris roars, pointing his arm down the street toward Tom’s house.

An hour later, back at the station, Harris and I have reported the fugitive to the highway patrol and the county sheriff’s office, and we’ve got the local patrol officers searching the Rio Lobo streets and neighborhoods. Harris took a break at one point to go into his office and make a private phone call. I assumed he was calling to update McCormack. Afterward, he seemed in better spirits, and I noticed out the window that suddenly several of McCormack’s trucks were driving up and down the road.

I have a feeling that McCormack, or whoever Harris talked to, told him that this might be good news. Putting Ariana on trial would always have been problematic. It might have called attention to the crimes and could have blown up in their faces—whoever they are. But if McCormack’s men can find her before the police do, then Ariana might not live long enough to face trial.

It dawns on me that we might have done exactly what they were hoping. Ariana fleeing arrest might have been part of their plan all along.

Harris and I are talking by the front desk—pretending as if we trust each other and are on the same side—when Tom Aaron walks into the front lobby.

“Go away, Tom!” Harris shouts. “I’m not telling you any more information.”

“It’s not about the article,” Tom says, looking embarrassed. “I’m here to report a crime.”

Harris frowns.

“My Land Cruiser has been stolen.”

This was always a part of the plan, a way for Tom to keep his involvement hidden. If Ariana took his vehicle and he never reported it, that would signal Tom’s involvement. But if he reports it stolen, that makes him look a little more innocent.

Unfortunately, reporting the theft has its drawbacks for Ariana.

Harris looks at me and can’t hide a grin.

“Now we know what she’s driving,” he says.





Chapter 67



ARIANA SITS AT the bank of the river where she and Rory went swimming. It was only three days ago that she and Rory stripped off their clothes and dove in. Now, sitting under the same oak tree where Rory hung his gun belt, Ariana is cold, alone, and scared.

She’s also ashamed. She took an oath to uphold the law. Now she’s broken it—both the law and her oath.

It’s after midnight, and the desert air has grown cold. She thought about building a fire, but she didn’t want to risk anyone seeing it. It’s not unheard of for high schoolers to come out here and party or make out. There is no sense drawing attention to herself.

But the darkness sure makes the experience of being a fugitive even more lonely. She didn’t think to pack herself a sleeping bag or change of clothes, not even a long-sleeved shirt. She didn’t bring any food, either, and now her stomach rumbles.

A beam of light cuts through the blackness, and Ariana spots a vehicle making its way toward her on the bumpy dirt road. She hides behind the tree and listens as the vehicle pulls up just on the other side of it.

“Ariana!” a voice calls out. “It’s Rory.”

She comes from around the tree, and Rory climbs out of his F-150. She throws her arms around him—she can’t help herself—and he holds her in a tight hug. She wants to sob into his chest, but she holds back the tears. This is Rory, the guy who thought she would make a good Texas Ranger. She doesn’t want to behave like a scared little girl.

“I brought you some food,” he says. “Hungry?”

“Starving.”

The two of them sit down to eat in the same spot where they had lunch. Rory brought her a sandwich from the grocery store in town. She can tell on the first bite that he ordered the sandwich just the way she does. She’s surprised he could remember the specifics. That attention to detail must be what makes him a good detective.

“Where’s the Land Cruiser?” Rory asks.

She hid it in a canyon about a half mile away. It’s a little more out of sight than here, and she thought it was a good idea not to stay too close to it. When Rory texted her that she should sneak down the arroyo and steal Tom Aaron’s Land Cruiser—the keys would be in it—he’d asked her to meet him tonight at their place. He hadn’t been specific, but she’d known what he meant.

Now he fills her in on the results of the lab tests, as well as all the efforts within a hundred miles of Rio Lobo to make sure she doesn’t escape.

“You think they’ll come looking out here in the open space?” she asks.

“I bet McCormack will send his men out here,” Rory says. “Tomorrow, during daylight, you’ll want to keep your head down.”

The moonlight reflects on the water. Rory’s face is illuminated just enough to reveal the worry in his expression.

“What have we done, Rory?”

“We did what we had to.”