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“How about you? You must be what—a sophomore?” Zach gave him an approving glance from head to toe. “You look like you could be a pretty mean quarterback.”
A flicker of pride warmed Alex’s heart. “I’ll be a freshman this fall.”
“Going to try out?”
The warmth faded. “Nah.”
“Why not?”
Because my dad is dead, and there are horses to feed and stalls to clean, and I have a sister to look after...and if I don’t keep my grades up, I’ll never earn scholarships to get away from here. “Just not interested.”
“You should go for it.” Zach finished the last of his cola. “I never got to play in sports. Moved around too much, so that made it tough to get involved. Always wished I’d played football.”
“Why?”
“Why did I want to play?”
“Why did you move so much?”
“I guess we just liked the open road,” he said lightly. “New places, new people to meet.”
Exactly what I want. “Cool.”
“There’s a lot to be said for a stable home, kid. Being around people who know and love you. I’ll bet you and your mom get along really well.”
Alex jerked upright. Looked at his watch. “Whoa. I’ve got to get back.”
Only after he was on his horse and halfway home did he remember what he had seen.
Zach Forrester had come off as a friendly guy. He’d talked like they were equals—old friends shooting the breeze on a summer afternoon. But he’d said almost nothing about himself, and he had major weapons stowed away in Martha Benson’s house.
Who was this guy—and what was he really doing in Fossil Hill?
* * * *
JANET HAD SURFACED, just as he knew she would. Putting the word out on the street in Dallas had snared her within days. Finding a card in her pocket bearing Zach Forrester’s e-mail address had been a nice bonus.
He’d figured Janet was Zach’s ex-wife, and that the child was his daughter. The truth had been...disappointing. Still, they’d both be useful. Since they were family, they would die.
He opened the door to the room and studied the jittery woman clutching a bundle of blankets around herself on the floor.
One hand never ceased, constantly picked at the flesh of her other arm, as if she were removing an endless legion of ants crawling across her flesh. Now and then she cried out, answering voices only she could hear.
He’d used an old family friend to help him keep tabs on Forrester’s every move, but they’d lost him. And so far, Janet had refused to talk. But it wouldn’t take long. The craving would build and build and build until she would give him the location of her own daughter and brother for just one more hit. She had to know where they’d hide.
He smiled to himself as he locked the door. He’d always abhorred the carnage created by guns. But messy, disagreeable weapons weren’t necessary when a user was involved.
Once the woman gave him all the information he needed, she would be given the biggest—and most deadly—high of all.
