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“No one yet. He's keeping it until it goes to trial. He was denied bail. Got an unsympathetic judge. Not one on my payroll, unfortunately. Yet. But the other place behind that damned Talley Inn, he sold it two weeks ago to fund his defense. To some Barratt out of Texas. Guy is letting the girls keep the smaller house on the property since they have my sweet little baby brother to take care of now—until the places they inherited from Vince Preston are ready, I heard. Supposedly, this Barratt is anice guy.Barratt’s staying at the main house next door. He’s repairing it and everything. He’s going to be a problem. But I’m sending men to take care of him soon. Real soon. I hate rich men who think they can buy whatever they want.”
Wayne fought the urge to say something. He truly did. Everything Jason Smith-Morris had done for twenty fucking years had been to make himself richer. Where was his room to talk?
“Is the house with the safe room occupied?” He was glad Morris Preston had been denied bail—couldn’t have happened to a more deserving man. There was nothing Wayne regretted more than getting involved with Preston all those years ago. His only excuse—Preston had been like a brother to him when they were kids. Had given Wayne a place tobelong.Back then, that had mattered.
Wayne belonged with Linda and the girls now. But he could probably do what Jason needed. Without too much trouble. He’d done it before.
He'd perfected the ability to get in and out of houses before he was nineteen. This job might take him a bit more research and preplanning, but Wayne knew his own skills. Morris Preston had had better security monitoring than most since day one, until the internet systems had become all the thing. It had taken Wayne another couple of years to find his way around internet monitoring, too.But he could still do it. Wouldn’t pose much of a challenge at all.
He could break into Morris Preston's place. If he wanted to. For the right reason.
“Sure is. It’s the smaller one on Barratt’s new property. Morris Preston'sdaughtersare all three sitting there nice and cozy. Along with that last kid of his.” Jason gave a chillingly cold smile. “Those bitches shouldn't be any trouble at all. I get what I want out of that house, deal with good old Geena, and then I am out of Wyoming forever. Help me do that, and my silence isyours.Don't help me, and, well, I hear the sheriff of Masterson County is actually one of the good guys with a beef over what happened to that pretty little deputy of his with Preston. I'm sure he'd love to learn about everything I know about...you. And what happened to dear Linda's first husband.”
Thatwas a secret Morris Preston had promised to take to his grave. Apparently, he hadn’t kept that promise. Of course not. Wayne suspected Morris was pulling his son’s strings from behind bars still. And now Jason was pulling Wayne’s.
Ice chilled Wayne. And it had nothing to do with the approaching storm.
Jason had him by the balls.
And they both knew it.
10
His name wasFrederick Arnold Brown now. It hadn’t always been.
Fred wasn’t exactly his first choice, but it was bland enough to not be all that memorable. Arnold—Arnold was a stab in the gut, though. And always had been. It was why he had chosen it.
At almost six five, Fred Brown knew he stood out. Literally. He always had. He’d liked it, when he was younger. Liked towering over other men—and had liked being the man in charge.
Until his hubris had cost him what mattered most.
Fred had spent the last twenty-three years regretting the choices he’d made before. Choices that had cost him and his wife more than he would have ever imagined those days so long ago.
The four girls staring at him now were far more than he deserved. His second chance. His baby girls. Each one of them so special in their own unique ways.
They…theywere the best of him. He had become a better man when he had been gifted the eldest of these girls now. A damned sight better father, that was for sure.
He would never forget how much that mattered again.
But that girl? Dylan was a handful. No denying that.
“That’s all I’m saying on the matter, young lady.” He gave her his sternest look. She shot him her most defiant—so small and scrappy. Delicate and dainty.
Even her hair was scrappy. And looked like the kid had taken scissors to it herself.
She probably had, knowing his Dylan.
Never had one of his children maddened him more than this one.
It had taken him two days to get up the nerve, the sheer guts, and thewords,to tell his daughters the truth. Two damned days. His parents hadn’t raised him to be a coward, but that was exactly what he had become.
“So basically, you and Mom saw this dude and his son and his goons murder a woman. Then they came after Mom. That’s where she got the scars for real. Not a car accident like you’ve always said. So you turned state’s evidence. But nothing happened? The guys were just out there living the good life, for twenty-three years, while you and Mom had tohide.And we had to hide.”
Leave it to Dylan to get right down to the heart of the matter. She should consider law school, his kid. Instead of business administration and whatever those classes were she had taken about plants and seeds, of all things. He’d talked her out of most of those plant classes—and into business. She was good at it, and it would be a way for her to take care of herself when the time came. When he wasn’t around to take care of her.
His baby girl—she wanted a place of her own, a place big enough for her own gardens. Her own experiments with seeds and plants and everything else Fred had never been all that interested in.
His baby girl haddreams.
