Page 67 of Colton’s Inferno

Rising from her seat, Lucy glanced at her grandfather once more. She turned from his bed and hoped that this wasn’t the last time she saw him alive.

Rain pelted the windshield as Aiden drove toward the Five Steers Ranch. The wipers swished back and forth, creating clean arcs on the glass. A pair of headlights cut through the gloom. A car was coming from the other direction. It was the first vehicle he’d seen in miles. A white sedan approached and passed in a blur.

Shifting in his seat, he turned his gaze back to the road. The entrance to the Five Steers Ranch loomed above the dirt lane. Aiden let his foot off the gas, slowing enough to make the turn. The road leading up to the house was slick with mud and loose stone. The engine whined as the car climbed the incline.

The house came into view. Letting his foot off the gas, he slowed as he drove. The mint green car was parked by the door, but there were no other vehicles. All the doors were closed. The lights were off.

It didn’t look like anyone was home.

No doubt that Lucy was still at the hospital. Pressing the accelerator, he followed the road back to the scene of the accident. After parking his car at the top of the rise, he turned off the engine.

Without the wipers, rain peppered his windshield. He got out of the car. Within seconds, his hair was wet and rain snaked down the back of his shirt. Shoving his hands into the pocket of his jeans, he studied the ground.

This morning, there had been tracks in the dirt that showed how Rusty’s truck had skidded and spun. Not anymore. The rain had washed away any evidence. Wiping his hand across his face, he walked to where the truck had gone over the embankment. Above, raindrops pattered as they fell on the canopy of trees. The ground beneath was damp but not soaked. Branches were broken. Small trees had been snapped in two. There was a single set of tire tracks. They matched the truck’s wheels perfectly. From what he could tell, Rusty truly had lost control and careened over the edge. If not for being stopped by the boulder, the vehicle would have ended up at the bottom of a steep hill.

Sidestepping, he walked around the vehicle. The grill on the truck was crushed by the impact with the large rock. There were scrapes on the side where branches gouged the paint. All four tires were intact. The collision had broken the hood latch, and Aiden lifted the dented metal covering. He propped it open with the kickstand and examined the engine.

He wasn’t sure what he hoped to find. There was a crack in the coolant reservoir, but nothing else looked out of the ordinary. After tucking the kickstand back in place and closing the hood, he circled the vehicle once more.

He’d suspected foul play.

Had he been wrong?

Aiden knelt on the damp soil and bent so he could see under the truck. The chassis. Drivetrain. Exhaust. Suspension. It all looked normal to him.

Maybe Ryan had been right. The older man had a heart attack. Lost consciousness. Veered off the road. Wrecked.

Tire marks were cut through the undergrowth and ran up the hillside. Walking in the ruts, he stopped and looked over his shoulder. The truck rested against the boulder. That’s when he noticed the truck’s path wasn’t random. It was aimed directly at the boulder. As if the rock was the only thing that could stop the vehicle.

That meant that the old man had control of the steering, but not the brakes.

He jogged toward the truck. The ground gave way, and he slid the last few feet. Holding on to the tailgate, Aiden knelt on the ground. He lay flat on his back and pushed himself under the chassis. It took him only a minute to find what he’d been looking for.

There was a slit in one of the brake lines.

First, the fire, and now, this.

Without question, someone was trying to kill Lucy and her grandfather. What’s more, Aiden knew they wouldn’t stop until someone was dead.

The driver of the rideshare stopped next to the front door, and Lucy got out of the car. A steady rain fell, and she jogged to the porch. Wiping wet hair from her face, she opened the door.

The words, “Grandpa, I’m home,” clung to her lips.

After closing the door, she engaged the lock. It was the first time she’d used the latch in years. She walked down the hallway that connected the front of the house to the kitchen in the back. The stench of garbage—rotten veggies, spoiled eggs, and used coffee grounds—hung in the air. She had to take out the trash, but not until she’d seen to the cattle. Her stack of pancakes hung limply on the platter. Using her fingers, she picked up two and put them on a plate. She didn’t bother heating them up or covering them with syrup. Using a fork, she cut a wedge and folded it into her mouth. She ate without tasting anything. Coffee still filled the pot. She poured herself a cup and sipped. The caffeine did nothing to give her energy. She dumped the brew down the sink and put her dirty dishes into the dishwasher.

Lucy’s arms were sore. Her legs hurt and her head pounded with each beat of her heart. If Rusty was going to convalesce, then Lucy didn’t have time to waste. She had to start bringing the cattle down from the summer pasture today. She tried to make a plan, but her head hurt so damn bad that she couldn’t think.

Turning from the kitchen, she walked down the hallway. Each step was like wading through wet cement. The door was in front of her. To the right was the living room. Lucy never took a nap in the middle of the day. But now, her eyelids were so heavy that she just wanted to sleep.

Without thought, she dropped onto the sofa. She leaned her head on one armrest and placed her feet on the other. As Lucy closed her eyes, she promised herself that she would only rest for a minute. Then, sleep came for her, and she slipped away.

Aiden sprinted up the side of the hill. As he ran, he pulled the phone from his pocket and placed a call.

Cal answered after the second ring. “Hey,” he said. “What’s up?”

“I am at the Harrises ranch. One of the brake lines on Rusty’s truck was cut.”

“Jesus.”