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She didn’t open them again until they were nearly to the crash site. “It’s just ahead,” Ty said when he noticed her looking around, trying to orient herself. “We can’t be sure that Logan will still be there.”
“I know.”
A half-mile from the site, Ty spotted a vehicle parked on the shoulder, a telltale light bar mounted on its roof. Logan was by the wrecked pickup in the ditch when Ty pulled level with it. Ignoring the ever-present dust swirl, Ty rolled down the driver’s window.
Logan walked over to the truck, his glance sliding past Ty to seek out Jessy. “Hello, Jessy. How are you feeling?”
“Better than I did last night,” she replied. “More importantly, though, did you find anything?”
“Not one single thing.” His mouth curved in a smile that was grim. “I don’t think there is any doubt, though, that your tire
s were shot out. But I don’t have one scrap of evidence to prove it.”
“What do you mean?” Ty studied him with narrowed eyes.
“I think someone was very busy here last night. A part of both tires has been hacked out. If I had to guess, I would say it was the area where the bullet holes were. If he had to jack the truck up to do it, he didn’t leave any clear impressions behind. Which means either the ground was too hard or he placed something under the jack to prevent leaving an impression. The ground around here is too trampled to tell anything for sure.”
If Logan said it was so, Ty believed him. The man knew his business. But it raised another thought. Turning his head, Ty scanned the land that rolled away from the road to the north.
“He must have been out there somewhere,” Ty stated.
“Had to be,” Logan agreed. “I’ve combed a good section of it. Either he didn’t have to wait very long before you came along, or the wind already straightened any grass he flattened. If he was thorough enough to cut out the bullet holes in the tires, I’ll bet he picked up the shell casings.”
“Yes. It sounds like he’s a careful man.” And Ty could think of only one man who was likely to know all the tricks—Buck Haskell. Anything Buck didn’t know before he went to prison, he probably learned after he got there.
Logan gave the door an idle pat and straightened from the cab. “I’m going to look around some more. You never know. I might get lucky and find something he missed. In the meantime, I would be extra careful, Ty.”
“I will.” Like Logan, Ty believed his assailant would try again. “Have you found out where Haskell was?”
“Officially I have no cause to question him.” Logan told him. “No evidence, no eyewitness. Nothing but a maybe-that-might-have-happened. So there isn’t much I can do.”
Maybe there was nothing he could do, but there was plenty Ty could do.
Chapter Seventeen
The accident site was behind them, obscured by the churned-up dust cloud. Jessy studied Ty’s strong-jawed profile, noting the taut ridges of tension.
“You are going to question Buck yourself, aren’t you?” she guessed.
Patience had never come natural to him. It was something Ty had learned, but he had never been able to sit comfortably in its saddle.
“As soon as I get you home and settled.” He tried to gentle his voice, but Jessy caught the undertone of hard decision. There would be no dissuading him from it.
In truth Jessy hadn’t expected him to do anything else. Buck would never admit to anything. And without any proof the shooting had actually occurred, there was little Ty could do except put Buck on notice. Buck would know exactly what that meant. And it might be enough to make him think twice before trying anything again. It was a confrontation that had to take place.
“I have a feeling you won’t have to worry about getting me settled,” Jessy told him. “Between Sally and my mother, one of them will be fluttering around, coddling me like an invalid.”
True to her prediction, Jessy had barely set foot on The Homestead’s front porch when the two women scurried out of the house to surround her. Her mother took one look at the gauze bandage over Jessy’s wound and bemoaned the loss of hair that had been snipped away, then brightly assured Jessy it would grow back.
Glancing over their heads, she looked at Ty. “Didn’t I tell you? You might as well go before they shoo you out of the way.” She observed his momentary indecision. “It needs to be done, Ty.”
The simple phrase smoothed everything out inside him. Jessy was not a woman who needed her hand held, certainly not when there was a job to be done. Tara, on the other hand, would have been grievously hurt if he had left so soon after bringing her home from the hospital, but not Jessy. He took pride in that.
“Get some rest,” he said and headed back to the truck.
Rest was all she had done for the last twelve hours. Jessy had no intention of climbing into another bed until nightfall. When she learned that Cat had taken the twins to give Jessy some peace and quiet on her first day home, she knew she was in for the full invalid treatment. Over the protestations of both women, Jessy insisted on sitting on the porch for a while.
“I feel like I’ve been cooped up inside for a week, constantly being poked and prodded, someone always hovering about to check my pulse or take my blood pressure. I just want to sit outside by myself and enjoy some fresh air. Believe me, it will be much more restful than lying in any bed,” Jessy insisted.
