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“And I owe you the truth about Pickett Hanson.”
He curled up next to her until she fell into an exhausted sleep. Still, he monitored her breathing. He was afraid to close his eyes for fear this part was a dream and like in his frighteningly real nightmare, he hadn’t reached Oakley in time to save her.
CHARLOTTESTOODATthe window, staring at the orange ball of fire in the distance.
“That’s Oakley’s doing,” CJ said behind her. “I had nothing to do with it.”
She couldn’t bear to look at him. “How long have you been able to walk?” she asked without turning around. At first, she didn’t think he would answer her.
“I thought it would help my case if I was confined to a wheelchair—at least temporarily. I was doing it for you as much as for myself.”
A bitter laugh escaped her throat as she turned. “All your life I’ve made excuses for you. I blamed myself for your behavior. I blamed your sisters, your brothers. I blamed everyone but you.”
“You’re not going to throw me out,” he said, some of his old cockiness returning. “You can’t run this ranch without me. We can get past this. Oakley did us a favor. The only evidence they will find at the drilling site will be what Oakley put there. It was an accident. Everyone knows she and Duffy McKenna and Pickett Hanson have probably been the ones vandalizing the gas company equipment.”
Her cell phone rang. She quickly took the call, her back to her son. “Yes. Yes, I understand. Yes, please.” Her voice broke. “Thank you.” She slumped against the window for a moment. Hadn’t she feared that this day was coming? Had she really thought she could save her son from himself?
“They all got what they had coming,” CJ said behind her, no doubt thinking that the deputies had found them all dead because of her reaction to the call. “The only real victims were the gas company’s security guards, Frankie and Norman Lees—if they were caught in the explosion. I’m assuming they were.”
Still, she said nothing, letting CJ believe they were all dead. Let him find out from the deputies what she’d been told. Norman Lees had survived and had confessed that he was working for her son, who’d said he’d wanted Oakley and anyone else who got in their way killed. “You set up your sister to die tonight.”
All he seemed to hear was what he wanted—that Oakley had died tonight. “I wasn’t the one who blew up the gas rig,” he said. “Oakley’s always done whatever she wanted. If anything, I tried to stop her.”
The sky over the trees glowed orange as smoke billowed up from her once favorite spot on the river. “Yes, she is a very strong, determined woman.”
“If you don’t want to drill on the ranch anymore, fine,” CJ said. “We don’t have to. Like I told you, I’m going to buy some more land. With Tilly and Oakley gone and Brand and Ryder spending most of their time down in the bunkhouse with the ranch hands, we can run this ranch any way we want. No one will get in our way now.”
She turned to look at him. He’d gotten by on his good looks and his name and her money. He’d never wanted for anything and yet he’d always wanted more, would always want more, and God help anyone who got in his way.
“That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? This place all to yourself,” she said, studying his handsome face, finding no remorse at all. “It’s why you’ve always resented your siblings so much.”
He smiled. “Who could blame me? They’ve always been a pain in my ass. Why do you think Brand and Ryder stay away from me?”
“And if I got in your way? You’d get rid of me as well, wouldn’t you?” She stepped to him and slapped him, something she’d never done, something she never thought she would ever do to any of her children, especially to CJ. The sound was like a gunshot in the room.
His head snapped back, his shocked expression priceless.
“I can’t stand the sight of you. Get out now while you can,” Charlotte said, the words feeling like daggers in her throat. She’d alienated all but the two sons who took care of the ranch, spending no time at all around her or CJ. She’d taken CJ’s side for years, leaning on him, spoiling him, making him into the man standing before her now.
He rubbed his cheek. “You don’t mean that. It’s always been the two of us. Except for when you married Dixon Malone. But as long as his body never turns up—” He laughed. “I’m not leaving and you’re not going to make me leave. You’d have to physically throw me out of the house and we both know you’re not going to do that—even if you could.”
“You should have gone when you had the chance,” she said as headlights flashed on the front living room window. More headlights. A vehicle pulled up out front, followed by another one. Charlotte turned away from him and went to open the door for the sheriff’s deputies.
“You called the cops on me?” CJ asked, almost sounding amused. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him move to his wheelchair and drop into it again. He still thought he could get away with everything he’d done.
“He’s in here, Deputies.” She let the officers in. “He doesn’t need the wheelchair. He can walk perfectly fine.”
“I don’t know what she’s telling you,” her son said. “She’s not herself right now. You can’t believe anything she says.”
The deputies headed toward CJ; one of them began reading him his rights. As he was dragged to his feet and cuffed, he told her to call the family lawyer. She ignored him.
“Tell them they’re making a mistake,” he ordered her as he was being led out. “Mother, tell them.” She turned away. “I’ll be out before morning. Our lawyer will sue the county and you hick cops. Mother!”
“Goodbye, CJ,” she said, unable to look at him.
“You’re going to regret this,” he yelled back at her before the door closed behind him. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”
Except that she finally did.
