At the Crossroads (Buckhorn, Montana #3)(87)

Chapter One


A jab of lightning sliced through the night sky, and Sheriff Jace Castillo caught a glimpse of the man he was chasing—just as the bullet from the guy’s semiautomatic slammed into Jace’s left shoulder.

The pain was instant and raw. A searing jolt of fire knifed through him, but Jace managed to scramble into a cluster of trees.

It was too dark for Jace to see the wound, but it was already throbbing. And bleeding. He was losing way too much blood. He could feel the warmth of it spreading across the front of his shirt and his sleeve.

Jace looked out into the curtain of rain, the fat drops dripping off the low-hanging tree branch that he was using for cover. He couldn’t see the man who’d just shot him, but Jace knew he was still there. Detective Gideon Martell likely wouldn’t just walk away from this. Or turn himself in.

Because Gideon was a dirty cop.

Jace had proof of that, and that was why he’d come to Gideon’s rural house just outside of Culver Crossing—the town where Jace was the sheriff. He’d intended to arrest Gideon and take him to San Antonio, where Gideon was a decorated officer.

And where they’d been friends, once.

“You still alive, Sheriff?” Gideon called out. He said Jace’s title as if he didn’t have much respect for it. Of course, as Jace had recently learned, Gideon didn’t have any respect for his own badge. “It was real stupid of you to come to my place without backup.”

Yeah, it had been, but Jace had thought he could talk Gideon into surrendering. So much for that plan. Gideon had run. Jace had gone in pursuit. Now, he’d been shot, and they were deep in the woods, a little more than half mile from the road. Despite the darkness and the storm, Gideon had managed a good run so he could escape.

“You don’t want to add murder to your sheet,” Jace threw out there, and he moved as fast as he could, darting to the side.

Good thing, too, because Gideon sent a bullet toward the exact spot where Jace had just been. The storm obviously hadn’t affected Gideon’s hearing or vision, because he had managed to pinpoint Jace’s location.

Wincing at the movement and listening for any sound that Gideon was coming closer, Jace took out his phone to call for backup. And he cursed. No signal. There were plenty of dead spots like that in rural Texas, but this was one dead spot that could be fatal for him. He wasn’t sure he could make it all the way back to his truck. Especially since he was already starting to get dizzy from the pain and the blood loss.

“My guess is you’re hurting pretty bad right now, huh?” Gideon called out.

Again, Jace heard the taunt in his tone and figured the detective was hoping he’d answer. Then Gideon could try to shoot him again, this time with a kill shot.

Too bad about that, on several levels.

It was bad enough that his former best friend wanted him dead, but it also meant he wouldn’t be able to talk to Gideon, to try to get answers that he desperately needed.

Answers as to why Gideon had sullied his badge by stealing and then selling confiscated weapons and drugs.

Heaven knew how long Gideon had gotten away with his crimes, but he’d sold the illegal goods to the wrong man. One who’d not only reported it to Jace but had also given him the proof to back it up.

Dragging in a hard breath, Jace put away his phone and focused. He needed to turn this situation around. Needed to figure out Gideon’s location so he could end this before he passed out and died here.

“What about Linnea?” Jace asked a split second before he moved again. As expected, Gideon fired a shot and, thankfully, missed this time. “Have you thought about what this will do to her?”

Silence. And Jace hoped it was a good strategy, to use Gideon’s sister to make him rethink this. Gideon and Linnea were close, and it would tear out Linnea’s heart to know what her brother had done.

“To hell with Linnea,” Gideon snarled. “She’s the one who ratted me out.”

Everything inside Jace went still. He hadn’t known that. And he wasn’t even sure it was true. Jace certainly hadn’t gotten any proof of his wrongdoing from Gideon’s sister.

“As far as I’m concerned, Linnea can die right along with you,” Gideon added in a snap.

Jace pushed aside those hard words, and he knew it was now or never. He darted out from cover, took aim at the sound of Gideon’s voice and fired. Not once but three times. Jace heard the sound of a bullet ripping through flesh. Heard Gideon’s sharp groan of pain.

Then he caught a glimpse of his former friend collapsing onto the ground.

Jace’s stomach clenched over the thought that he’d likely just killed a man. But he worried even more over another possibility. That he hadn’t killed Gideon. That Gideon could get up and finish him off.

Because he had no choice, Jace caught onto the tree, using it to anchor himself. The rough bark dug into his hands, but his grip stopped him from falling. For now anyway. Jace could feel himself losing it, though. Losing the battle to stay on his feet, or even to remain just conscious.

The dizziness came with a vengeance. So did the pain. Like hot pokers jabbing at him. Mercy, there was no way he could walk out of this.

He gulped in his breath, and even though he tried to keep holding on, he found himself unable to. He fell, his head smacking against a sharp rock. More pain, but he didn’t have enough breath to do anything other than groan.