AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“The XYZ Bandits struck again,” Carlos says when I answer. “About an hour ago.”
“You’re kidding.”
“They hit two stores in San Antonio. A jewelry store and a pawn shop. They used dynamite as a distraction.”
“Same MO?” I ask. “Three suspects? Motorcycles?”
“Yep,” he says, and his tone takes a turn toward solemnity. “But there is something different: they shot a cop.”
My blood goes cold.
“Name was Luisa Ramirez,” he continues. “Apparently she was the only officer patrolling the area at the time. One of the bandits opened fire on her with a submachine gun.”
I notice he said her namewasLuisa Ramirez, notis, but I hope that was just a slip of the tongue.
“How bad?” I ask.
“Died on the scene before any help arrived,” he says. “The XYZ Bandits have graduated from robbery to murder.”
Not just murderers,I think.Cop killers.
“I’ll call Lieutenant Abrams,” I say. “Maybe this will get things moving faster.”
“Good,” Carlos says. “Let’s get that son of a bitch.”
There’s no doubt that when he saysson of a bitch,he means Parker. I surprise myself by not questioning his assumption. It looks like I’m finally on the same page as Carlos. We both believe Parker Longbaugh and his buddies are the bandits.
“I’m heading to Snakebite right now,” he says.
“I’ll leave in five minutes,” I say.
When I go back to the kitchen, everyone else has started eating without me. Mom is at the counter, covering a plate in aluminum foil. I break it to them that I can’t stay for breakfast.
“I had a feeling you’d say that,” Mom says, handing me the plate.
I give Megan a big hug and kiss, trying to pretend that Willow isn’t there watching, and I head for the door. Willow says she’ll walk up the hill to my place with me since her car is still there. I feel awkward spending time alone with her while Megan helps my mom do the dishes, but there’s nothing I can do about it—I can’t stop her from walking with me.
It’s a lovely morning, peaceful and quiet. The grass is wet with dew. Willow looks radiant in the early morning light. She smiles at me and I’m reminded all over again why I was—why Iam—so crazy about this girl.
“I know now isn’t a good time,” she says, “but there is something I’d like to talk to you about before I leave town.”
“Once I get through all this that I’m dealing with,” I say, “I’ll be ready to talk. I promise.”
I give her a tight hug at her car, and for a moment, my racing mind clears. All I focus on is the smell of her hair and the way her body feels against mine. How many times have we said goodbye like this? Back when we were dating, I’d end our goodbyes by kissing her, long and hard, and then telling her I loved her.
It feels strange to end our goodbye with only a hug.
She climbs into her rental—still drivable with a couple of bullet holes in the bumper—and zooms away. Once I see her taillights hit the road, I walk into my house to get ready. I take off my shirt and examine the fresh welts from the two-by-fours, crisscrossing my body with the cuts and scrapes from the thorns.
It’s been a rough twenty-four hours, but there’s no rest for a Texas Ranger.
I pull on a shirt and button it up. I wrap a tie around my collar and knot it. I pin the tin star on my shirt, then, still looking at myself in the mirror, position my Stetson atop my head.
Almost ready.
Finally, I add the last piece of my uniform.
I strap on my gun belt.
