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“Okay,” she says. “Love you.”
Through the quiet of the forest, I hear the engine of his Ford Bronco come to life, and then the sound of it driving away.
I decide my best way out of this bramble is the way I came, so I crawl back to the clearing. I’m as careful as possible, but the thorns snag my clothes and tear my skin. When I finally get free of the thorns, I rise to my feet, brushing the dirt and leaves off my chest. My BDUs have several tears, and I’m sure there are plenty of small cuts and scrapes on my skin underneath. But it beats facing Parker and explaining what the hell I was doing dressed in camouflage behind his house.
I approach where I think Parker stopped. I kneel down the way he did. In a barren patch of dirt, there’s the distinct mark of cowboy boot prints.
They’re mine. I’m sure. Parker was wearing a pair of running shoes, and I spot his prints, easily distinguishable from mine. And, worse, I’m sure that Parker knows—or at least suspects—that the boot prints are mine.
That was what the smile was all about.
Thinking of it now, I consider what that grin might have meant. To me, there’s no doubt. It was the kind of grin that said,The game is afoot.
May the best man—Ranger or former Ranger—win.
CHAPTER 24
I HEAD OUT of town immediately, leaving my clothes and guitar behind in my hotel room until I can come back to town to get them. Josie had said to Parker,Weren’t you supposed to meet Harvey and Ellis in town?That tells me he’s headed to Snakebite. So I take backroads away from town to make sure I’m not spotted. It takes longer, but that’s the least of my worries. I’m planning to call Parker and tell him I headed out of town early this morning, but I’ve got to make sure no one sees me to contradict my alibi.
Just as I’m about to pick up my phone, it buzzes with an incoming call from—speak of the devil—Parker.
I take a deep breath, steady my voice, and answer.
“I was just about to call you,” I say. “How’s our little patient doing?”
He tells me Leo’s fine—which I already know, of course—and then changes tack.
“Harvey and Ellis and I were just headed out to do some target shooting,” he says. “Want to come along?”
My brain gives me the quick image of going out to some remote location with the three of them and being ambushed. Even as the thought occurs to me, I recognize how surreal it feels to think of my old friend this way.
Do I really think he’s part of this?
Would he really ambush me with his accomplices?
“Sorry,” I say. “I’m headed back home for a day or two.”
“It won’t take long,” he says. “Come on. I’ve told these guys how good you are with a gun—the best I’ve ever seen. They want to see the legend in action.”
I tell him I left Snakebite earlier in the morning.
“I’m driving through Gatesville right now,” I say. I’m not even close. But I have to lie to throw him off my scent. Make it seem impossible that I could have been in the woods thirty minutes earlier.
Only silence on the other end.
“You been through here lately?” I ask. “They’ve got the road all torn up. Orange barrels as far as the eye can see and not a single worker in sight.”
In reality, I’m seeing nothing but fields, but I remember the roadwork from two days ago when I made the drive in reverse.
He seems to ignore what I’ve got to say, as if he’s lost in thought, or distracted.
“You still there?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he says finally. “You’re not leaving Snakebite for good, are you?”
“No,” I say. “I’ve just got some things to take care of back at headquarters. Not sure how long it will take, but I’ll be back. Maybe not for long, though,” I add. “If we’re going to find Jackson Clarke, it’s not going to be in Snakebite.”
When he hangs up, I let out a relieved breath. I try to call Carlos but don’t reach him. Then I call Lieutenant Abrams and leave a message to let him know I’m heading back. I’m wondering if I need to come clean with him about my real motives for heading to Snakebite. Carlos faced resistance from his captain, but maybe it’s time we brought someone else in on this.
