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“I’m sure your father has his rea—”
“It’s not just Dad, and you know it. Dad has started to tell Dale and me a few things. Things he says you guys all decided to keep from your kids.”
Uncle Joe flattens his lips into a straight line. “We had our reasons.”
“That’s a cop-out.”
“It’s not a cop-out, Don. Those decisions were made out of love. For you and your brother. For Henry, Brad, and Diana, who were so young, and for the rest of them that were still unborn at the time.”
“Well,” I say, “those decisions are coming back to bite us all in the ass.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…I found out about Brad Steel’s half brother, which you say was never a secret, but I call bullshit. So it’s only a matter of time before I find out more.”
“Donny,” Uncle Joe says, “sometimes the past is better left buried.”
“According to whom?”
“According to people who have lived through it and don’t want it dredged up.”
“I see. And those people would be…?”
“I’m sure I don’t have to spell it out for you.”
“I get it. You’re protecting us. That’s a noble cause, for sure, but my father’s been shot. On his own property. He was on the northern quadrant of the beef ranch, Uncle Joe, a place he hardly ever goes. On a Sunday, when the workers are reduced to a skeleton staff. This wasn’t an accident.”
Uncle Joe sighs. “I’ve already talked to Ryan and Bryce at length about this. We’ve come to a conclusion. A theory, rather.”
“And…?”
My phone buzzes.
“Damn!” It’s John at the energy board. At this hour? But I have to take it. “Sorry,” I say to Uncle Joe, and then, into the phone, “Yeah?”
“Sorry, Donny. I know it’s late.”
“It’s tomorrow, John. The day you’re supposed to— Do that thing we discussed.”
“Sorry. The flight got canceled, so I had to drive. I just got in and got settled in the suite.”
“Glad you’re comfortable.” I resist an eye roll for Uncle Joe’s benefit.
“I was hoping to get to use the suite for more than a couple hours, but whatever.”
“Stay an extra day on me.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it. I’ve got the paperwork in hand, and I’ll drive into Snow Creek first thing in the morning to serve the papers and get the bar evacuated and shut down for a few days.”
“Good enough. Make it between ten and noon. Brendan Murphy usually closes the bar, so he won’t be up yet. Then I need you to go over to the Snow Creek Inn and arrange for a room for Murphy while his place is shut down.”
“I don’t have author—”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s all on me. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“You’ll be well taken care of.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Now go get some shut-eye.”
“Will do. Thanks, Donny.”
“Don’t mention it. I owe you.”
“Not a bad position to be in,” he says.
No shit. I end the call and turn to face Uncle Joe. “You were saying? About a theory?”
“Never mind.”
“Are you kidding? You can’t dangle that kind of bait in front of me. This is my father’s life we’re talking about.”
He sighs. “All right. But don’t tell your father I told you. This is only between Ryan, Bryce, and me so far. Your father is out of the loop. We don’t want him to worry. His only job is to heal.”
“Agreed,” I say. “So what’s the theory?”
He meets my gaze, pauses, and then clears his throat. “You want some coffee or something?”
“Are you fucking kidding? It’s the middle of the night. No, I don’t want coffee. I’m hoping I might get two hours of sleep before I have to get up again.”
I can’t help a soft scoff at the thought. Right. Like I’m sleeping tonight at all. No way in hell. I won’t be able to stop my mind from churning.
“Good enough.” Uncle Joe plunges his hands into the pockets of his robe. “I really shouldn’t say anything without talking to the others.”
“Please. Don’t even go there. This is Dad. My dad.”
He nods. “Right. You’re right.”
“What is it, then? What’s your theory?”
He pauses again, and I’m ready to grab him by the throat, when finally—
“It’s our feeling that your father wasn’t meant to be shot. At least not yet. The target”—he rubs his temples—“was me.”
No way will I sleep tonight, so I head to Dale’s. Yeah, he’s still a newlywed, and yeah, it’s the middle of the fucking night, but damn it, this can’t wait. He’s still keeping something from me, and tonight I need to be armed with every fact at my disposal.
I don’t bother texting. I just pound on the fucking door. His rescue dog, Penny, barks until she recognizes me. Then she pants and wags her tail through the window.
One minute passes. Two. I pound again. Three. Four—
The door jerks open. My brother stands there looking like a madman with his long hair in disarray.
