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“It was ten and you know it.” A sharp tap sent the cue ball rolling forward. It clipped the edge of the black eight ball, tumbling it into the side pocket. Grinning, Rollie turned to his brother, rubbing his thumb across his fingers in a “gimme” gesture. “Pay up.”
As Lath reluctantly dug in his pocket, the restaurant door flew open. “Call the police,” somebody shouted. “A tanker rig just flipped over on the highway. It’s blockin’ both lanes.”
“Come on. Let’s go have a look.” Lath headed for the door.
Rollie went after him. “You owe me ten dollars, Lath.”
“Forget about the damn money,” he muttered and pushed Rollie out the door ahead of him. “This could be what we’ve been waiting for.”
Outside, Lath wasted no time getting more information. As soon as he confirmed the accident had ruptured the tank, spilling some kind of chemical on the highway, he grabbed Rollie and shoved him toward the pickup.
“This is it,” Lath said. “We’re going tonight.”
Rollie’s stomach gave a nervous little jump, right before a kind of excitement kicked in. He didn’t have to ask where they were going; he knew.
Logan got the call shortly after he stepped out of the shower. Cat watched him dress. A selfish side of her wanted to interfere with the process, spend a little time exploring that smooth ripple of muscle. But she had been born a Calder; duty was something she understood.
“You did say Blackmore would be back next week?” she said when he retrieved his gun from the closet’s top shelf.
“Yes. Why?” He glanced up while he strapped it on.
“Because this isn’t the way I envisioned the night ending.”
“Me either.” The glow of desire was in his eyes when he crossed the room and gathered her to him, his mouth coming down with a hungry need.
“Maybe you could wake me up when you get back,” she murmured, breathing in the fresh, light hint of soap on his skin.
“Maybe I will.” He skimmed his lips over her cheek before he drew back.
Cat saw the hesitation, the flicker of concern in his eyes. “You get that chemical spill cleaned up, and don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.”
With a small smile, he touched a finger to her cheek and left.
“That damned moon is like a spotlight.” Rollie hunched over the van’s steering wheel, peering up at it.
“It’ll make it easier to run without lights.” Busy attaching the silencer to his automatic, Lath glanced up long enough to see they were almost to the end of the lane. The highway was just ahead. “Turn right. We’ll go to O’Rourke’s first.”
“O’Rourke’s?” Rollie shot him a surprised look.
“Yeah. If he’s there, we’ll take him out. If he isn’t, then we gotta worry about him bein’ somewhere around the Calder house.”
On that sobering thought, Rollie fell silent. It wasn’t hard to figure out why Lath hadn’t said anything about O’Rourke before now. He thought Rollie would chicken out. Truthfully, Rollie felt a little sick
at the moment—and a whole lot scared. He saw the logic in it, just as he’d seen the logic of carrying guns in case they had to shoot their way out. But killing someone that way seemed more like an accident and less like murder.
He clung to the hope O’Rourke wouldn’t be home, knowing it was stupid, knowing that it could mean the old man might be at the Triple C, that he could screw up the whole works.
A half mile from the Shamrock ranch yard, Lath told him to kill the engine and let the van coast. It rolled to a stop about a hundred feet short of the house. No lights showed from its windows.
“It doesn’t look like he’s there,” Rollie whispered.
“I’ll take a look.” Lath pulled on his ski mask, adjusted it, then zipped up his jacket.
All the bulbs had been removed from the van’s interior lights before they left the Simpson place. The door latch clicked under Lath’s hand. Then he was outside the van, the moonlight glinting on the automatic’s metal silencer.
Nervous, Rollie chewed at the inside of his lip, watching while Lath darted into the shadows of the nearest trees. Almost the instant he melded into the darkness, a door slammed. Rollie jumped at the sound and broke into a cold sweat.
A second later, he saw O’Rourke’s thin shape moving across the moonlit ranch yard, a rifle loosely carried in his swinging hand. He scanned the shadows under the trees, searching for Lath.
