Texas Outlaw (Rory Yates #2)(59)

“Rory, I ain’t calling so we can get together and play music. I’m calling about Skip.”

My stomach lurches. This could be the break I need.

“Do you know something about Skip’s death?” I ask.

“Hell, Rory, I know everything there is to know. I’m ashamed I ain’t said nothing till now, but I aim to make it right.”

Dale tells me he’s driving one of McCormack’s tankers back to Rio Lobo now. He asks me to meet him at the easement through the open space and gives me exact GPS coordinates.

“Bring Ariana if you can,” he says.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? ’Cause I got the keys to her freedom, and I want to see the look on her face when she knows. She ain’t never gonna date me, but I like to see her smile, and trust me, bud, she’s gonna be smiling big.”

I urge him to tell me what he has to say over the phone. In this town, witnesses have a tendency to die before they can speak.

“It ain’t just what I got to say,” he says. “It’s what I got to show you.”





Chapter 75



WHEN DALE HANGS up, I put my truck into drive and take off. Dale could be setting a trap for me—and Ariana. He works for McCormack, after all. I could be leading us both into God knows what kind of trouble. Gareth and his soldier buddies could surround us out there in the desert canyons and force us to surrender at gunpoint.

Or kill us.

But I’m not sure I have much of a choice. Dale might be my last hope.

I pull onto Main Street. The harsh glare from the late afternoon sun reflects off the cars parked along the road. Up ahead, I see a pickup truck driving into town.

I recognize it.

It’s just like mine.

I pull over and my lieutenant, Kyle Hendricks, pulls over, too, parking his truck nose to nose with mine. He climbs out, and so do I. We stand in the middle of Main Street, two Texas Rangers with cowboy hats and sidearms, staring at each other like a couple of gunfighters in an old western.

There won’t be any shooting today, but this is a showdown nonetheless.

“Yates, you sure fucked up this time,” he says. “Every Ranger in the state, from the rookies picking their noses at their desks all the way up to the company commander, knows you screwed the pooch on this one. My lord, how the golden boy has fallen from grace.”

“Kyle,” I say, “I’ve had about enough of your bullshit.”

“Fine,” he says. “I’ll take your gun and badge right now. You can sign your resignation papers tomorrow at headquarters. Otherwise, you’re going to have to keep taking my bullshit.”

“I’m not resigning,” I say. “If anyone should turn in his star, it’s you. You’ve been acting like a damn baby ever since the shooting in the bank. Grow up. Act like a Texas Ranger, for Christ’s sake.”

“Act like a Texas Ranger? That’s rich coming from you. Hothead Rory Yates always bending the rules to suit his needs. Your old lieutenant gave you too long of a leash. I’m just trying to keep you in line.”

I can see I’m getting nowhere, so I try to shift gears.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into here in Rio Lobo. This thing is a lot bigger than it seems.”

“It seems simple enough to me,” he says. “One woman died of an allergy. Case closed. And the local detective you been running around with shot and killed an oil worker. Case closed. I’ll be out of here by this time tomorrow.”

“That’s exactly what they want you to do.” I point to the graffiti on my truck door. “You see that? They’ve been trying to get me out of this town since I got here. You’re just playing into their hands.”

“They?” he says. “Who exactly is they?”

“I’m not sure,” I say, “but I think the local oil baron—”

He silences me with a wave of his arm. “Chief Harris told me all about your wild conspiracy theories. But I think the truth is a lot simpler. Carson McCormack’s son beat you in some kind of shooting match, and now you’re out to get him.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I say. “And the chief’s probably in on it.”

He shakes his head to dismiss my harebrained suspicion, but the anger in his demeanor is flagging. He feels like he’s won the fight and now he can play the role of a tough mentor, instead of the jealous peer that he is.

“Go home, Rory. The media loves you for that quick-draw maneuver in the bank. You’ve still got a decent career ahead of you if you play your cards right. Messing around with some female detective who turned out to be a murderer could be just a blip on your record. That is, if you don’t pursue this any further.”

“She didn’t do it,” I say, although after I saw the picture of Ariana dancing with Gareth McCormack at their high school Homecoming, I’m less sure than ever.

If I had seen that picture two days ago, would I have helped her escape?

“Do you know where she is?” Kyle asks. “You better not be hiding her, Rory.”

If I tell Kyle where she is, maybe I can get back into his good graces and help figure this thing out from within the lines of the law. This might be my last chance to save my future with the Rangers.