AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Okay.” I rested the barrel on the log and pressed my eye against the rubber around the end of the sight the way I’d been taught. The houses were clearer and closer, so this was a more powerful scope. I saw the Gladiator pull up in front of the motorcycles and Vince and George get out. George looked like he was in an old western with his cowboy boots and the big shotgun in his hands. John Wayne in Ohio.
Vince looked deadly serious.
Pete OneTree came out, with a Wolf on either side of him.
“You have OneTree,” Rain said, quietly.
I clicked the safety off, my thumb finding it without having to look. I had learned that much. I focused on the leader of the Wolves, wondering where the blood on Vince’s pants had come from since OneTree seemed fine. And I prayed that I wouldn’t have to shoot anybody, and that if I did, I’d hit the right person. And not kill him. Not killing anybody would be good.
They talked for what was probably five minutes that felt like ten hours, and I realized I had sweat running down around the edge of the rubber where my eye socket was pressed against the sight. But I didn’t dare stop watching.
Then Vince raised his hand and I pressed the red button, aiming it at Pete OneTree’s vest, while beside me I felt Rain do the same with her scope.
And then I prayed harder that nobody would die.
CHAPTER 46
We made it to River Vista just after dawn and before the convoy of contractors began pouring in to start their work week. George had his shotgun in his lap as I drove to the entrance. Sometimes, I think he’s seen too many westerns.
Part of me hoped to find that the Wolves had cleared out after the other night. Maybe burying Pete OneTree beneath concrete with full honors in the basement of one of the houses as a parting gift. But no such luck. Two Wolves lounged on their motorcycles to the side of the entrance to the development. They jumped to their feet as we approached but I ignored their attempts to wave me down and drove past.
Straight to the spec house where I’d met Pete OneTree the last time. There were three Harleys parked out front and the same sand-colored van from the other night in front of the garage. Counting the two Wolves at the entrance made the odds somewhat reasonable. I was a little disappointed when Pete limped out the front door, flanked by two Wolves, both carrying ARs at the semi-ready. Therehadbeen blood but the wound, whatever it was, obviously wasn’t serious. Too bad. Pete didn’t have a rifle but he did have a very large revolver in a holster. Overcompensating is what I always thought when I saw someone packing Clint Eastwood “make-my-day” hardware. But it would definitely hurt to be hit by a bullet fired by it.
I parked facing the house and the motorcycles. George and I got out.
“I can’t believe you got the balls to show up here after the other night,” Pete said.
“I can’t believe you’re still here,” I said. “You and your shitheads should be long gone.”
Pete smiled. “But we’re not. And it’s just you and the former chief. So, I’m guessing you didn’t report your criminal trespass and assault the other night.”
“Or your attempted murder.”
“I was standing my ground. That’s the law here in Ohio. You were trespassing. Totally within my rights.”
“But you didn’t call the police, either.”
“We make our own law and enforce it,” Pete said.
“Like you did with Mickey Pitts?” I asked.
“Mickey was old news even before he got out of prison. Him being dead is a favor to everyone.”
“And Jim Pitts?” I asked. “What did he do to deserve getting killed?”
Pete shrugged. “Bad genes.”
George jumped in. “Why’d you kill him?”
Pete shook his head. “I didn’t kill Jim Pitts.”
“No,” George said, disgusted. “You got one of your lackeys to do it, right?”
“Give it a break, old man,” Pete said. “We had nothing to do with Jimmy’s accident.”
I looked him over. “There was blood on my pants.”
Pete indicated his side. “Grazed my hip, made a nice little furrow along the thigh, and ended up in my prosthetic. I’ve hurt myself worse dumping the bike. But how am I going to explain the leg to the VA?”
