At the Crossroads (Buckhorn, Montana #3)(19)

The gunshot report echoed down the main drag as they came out of the store. His heart sank. He thought of the cowboy and armed woman who’d been sitting at the counter. Had they decided to make their move with Gene out of the way? Not a bad idea. But it would have been better if there hadn’t been a gunshot.

Gene pulled his gun, shoved Earl Ray and Lars ahead of him, forcing them to hurry toward the café, a gun at their backs. Earl Ray ran as best he could with his hip hurting from banging into the vehicle earlier. His pulse thundered in his ears. Whatever had happened, it wasn’t good. He thought about Bessie and felt his chest tighten.

CULHANE HAD NO CHOICE. He carefully put down the pan of cinnamon rolls and the spatula on an empty table as Bobby, using Alexis as a shield, motioned him back toward the counter. The room had erupted in chaos and cries of fear and panic again.

“Tyrell!” the older man was screaming.

“Fred, don’t!” Bessie yelled from her booth.

Culhane swore under his breath as he raised his hands and backed up all the way to the counter and sat down. He could see that Bobby was jumpier than hell, as if he’d already been through something like this and was now reliving it. The hand holding the weapon shook with anger and pain. He’d been burned by the hot coffee now staining his blue shirt and was angry enough that he might shoot Alexis without any further provocation.

Meanwhile Fred was trying to wrestle a cell phone away from his son who was shot and bleeding on the floor. The phone, suddenly loose, skittered across the floor, out of Tyrell’s reach.

His gun digging into his back, Culhane wanted to pull it and take his chances. But not with Bobby already on edge with a gun to Alexis’s head and Eric—

At the sound of another gunshot, he started. Tyrell let out a scream of pain. Culhane had been hoping he was wrong about the twentysomething from the garage and body shop. But Tyrell had not only done something stupid that had gotten him shot twice, but also he’d completely screwed up Culhane and Alexis’s plan. This was why he never planned anything, he thought as he saw that Eric looked ready to fire again. The gunman had moved toward the two wrestling on the floor in their garage-uniform overalls.

Culhane could see that the second bullet had caught Tyrell in the throat. He was now gasping and holding his neck, blood pouring through his fingers. Fred was struggling to get up, to help his son. Eric stalked over to the pair, raised his gun and fired the third shot point-blank into the side of the young man’s head.

As Tyrell slumped the rest of the way to the floor, Fred screamed and lunged at Eric, only to be shot. Fred grabbed his chest, stumbling a step before he crumpled to the floor next to his son.

The café erupted in pandemonium. Both Bobby and Eric looked as if they wanted to kill everyone. Bessie hugged the frantic teenage waitress as others in the café began to cry harder—including the baby.

The front door banged open, the tinkle of the bell drowned out by the boom of Gene’s voice as he shoved both Lars and Earl Ray into the room. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded, his weapon drawn.

The noise became louder. “Everyone shut up!” He waved his gun around the room. There was a gasp, sobs were choked back and people recoiled.

Bobby gave Alexis a shove away, the weapon still trained on her. She slipped on the spilled coffee on the floor and went down on one knee—just feet from Gene. He aimed his gun at her as she started to get up, but instead of firing the weapon, he shoved her with his foot, sending her sliding across the floor to end up next to the booth with mother and baby.

As if by instinct, she reached for the crying baby in the carrier next to her. “Shh,” she whispered as she lifted the baby from the carrier and held the infant to her breast as she got slowly to her feet.

The sight of her holding that baby was almost Culhane’s undoing. It looked so natural and so surprising to see this strong, independent, kick-butt former sheriff’s detective suddenly so tender as she soothed the infant. He’d known this side of Alexis, this gentle, caring, loving side. Just as he’d known that she wanted marriage and children—something he’d said wasn’t in his future. He now regretted ever saying it.

How could he deny her motherhood if she stayed with him? It would have been criminal, seeing that baby in her arms. The baby quieted, and the people in the room began to calm down some as well.

“Go sit down,” Gene ordered Alexis, motioning with his gun.

She started to hand the baby to Tina, but Gene stopped her.

“Take the kid,” Gene told Lars, who didn’t hesitate. Alexis hesitated only a moment before she handed over Chloe and headed for the counter. Culhane watched her approach. He could see the emotion in her face. She was shaken, but hiding it well, not from having a gun pointed at her head but from the contact with the baby and even the thought of what Gene could do to the child, if the infant cried again.

Meanwhile, against Vi’s protests, Lars carried the baby over to the booth where he’d been originally sitting with the woman he’d called Shirley. He sat down, cooing at the baby, rocking her. Across the table from him, Culhane saw Shirley watch him as if he were a stranger she’d never seen before.

When he turned back to the killers, he saw Eric pick up Tyrell’s cell phone from the floor.

“Did I tell you to shoot someone while I was gone?” Gene demanded, advancing on Eric as the younger man wiped the blood off the phone on his pant leg.