Over Shel’s shoulder, Max barked and ran to the driver’s side window in back. Shel’s hand was already on his pistol when he heard the shots.
A moment later, the second deputy cruiser came under fire. Bullets ripped through the windshield and tore across the flashing light bar.
In the next moment, powerful motorcycle engines thundered to life. The bikers rose from the ditch on the right as their machines struggled with the grade because of their weight.
“Get down!” Shel ordered when he noticed Don was sitting frozen in the passenger seat, watching the outbreak of violence around them.
Shel transferred his pistol to his left hand and cupped his right behind Don’s head to pull him down. He knew that Max had already gone to cover.
Bullets slammed against the SUV and ripped through the windshield. Safety glass trickled into Shel’s lap as he held the wheel straight with his right knee and took aim at the first biker he saw. The pistol jumped in his fist as soon as he had a lock on the target.
The biker jerked, and the motorcycle went out of control. It fell over sideways and skidded across the road under the SUV.
Shel let go of Don and grabbed for the wheel. It didn’t do any real good. The motorcycle had lodged under the SUV and made the vehicle unmanageable. Still, he almost had it under control when the deputy cruiser behind him slammed into him. The air bags blossomed with staccato blasts and trapped Shel and Don.
The other bikers sped past and were gone in a heartbeat.
Shel tore the air bag free with his hand and cleared his way out of the SUV. He flung open the bullet-riddled door and turned to face the retreating bikers. In the darkness, he couldn’t tell how many of them there were. He opened fire immediately and hoped he got lucky.
If he hit any of the Purple Royals, they gave no indication of it.
A quick check of the vehicles revealed that the first two and his own were definitely out of commission. He ran to the next cruiser as he fed a new magazine into his pistol. Max paced him.
The deputy in the car was bleeding from a head wound while he fought the air bag. A quick glance told Shel that the man had received the wound from the wreck, not from a bullet.
“You okay?” Shel asked.
“Yeah.” The deputy nodded but looked out of it.
“Call dispatch. Let them know what happened. Tell them they need to shut the highways down.”
“Okay.” The deputy grabbed the handset.
None of the deputy cruisers were in any position to give pursuit. With the ditches on either side of the narrow road and the tangled mess of the wrecks, they were trapped.
“Shel.”
When Shel turned, he saw Don standing beside the SUV.
“What about Daddy?” Don asked.
Without a word, they turned together and raced for the road that led up to the ranch house.
45
›› Rafter M Ranch
›› Outside Fort Davis, Texas
›› 2204 Hours (Central Time Zone)
Please, God, don’t let my daddy be dead. As he ran, Don knew he sounded like a child. But that was all right. In God’s eyes they were all children. They were supposed to turn to him in times of need and fear. God was a daddy too.
Over the years, Don had known he’d enjoyed a closer relationship with God than he had with his earthly father, especially since he’d been called to lead the church. God had pulled him to that, and Don had never doubted that a day in his life. He suspected that even if he were close to his daddy, he’d still have been closer to God.
Don ran as fast as he could, but he couldn’t match Shel’s speed. Ultimately Don knew he was going to lose, but the thing that worried him most was that some of the bikers might yet remain at the house, or that Daddy might accidentally shoot them while thinking they were the bikers.
That fear and the adrenaline lent wings to Don’s feet. He was less than a hundred yards behind his brother when Shel reached the ranch house.
Shel hunkered down behind the big pecan tree in the front yard. Mama had asked Daddy to put that tree in, and she’d made pies from what they’d gathered every year after it started producing. For a long time after Mama’s death, Daddy had gathered the nuts every year and given them away. Then when Don married Joanie, he’d given the pecans to her. They’d given Daddy pies back. Lately Don’s kids had gathered the pecans.
Out of breath, afraid that he was about to throw up from the exertion and nerves, Don bent over and rested his hands on his knees.
Shel faced him, his features calm and set like stone. “I want you to stay here, Don.”
“Why?” Don gasped.
“Just stay here.” Shel’s voice was hard and clipped. It was his big-brother voice. After all these years, it hadn’t gone away. But it had been a long time since Don had heard it.
“All right,” Don said. He was used to telling Shel whatever he needed to in order to mollify him.
Shel approached the house at a measured run. He signaled to Max, and the Labrador took the lead and stayed to the left.
Don noticed that Shel was going to the rear of the house, obviously circling it. When he knew Shel was too far away to stop him, Don took off like a shot and ran for the front door.
He flattened up against the door like the television cops he enjoyed watching every now and again. Those shows were his one guilty pleasure. He’d sometimes imagined what it might be like going with Shel in his NCIS work.
What it turned out to be was scary. Don’s heart beat so hard and so fast he thought it was going to rip right out of his chest.
“Daddy?” Don called. “Daddy? It’s Don. Are you in there?”
There was no answer.
God, please watch over us right now. Keep us close. Marshaling his courage, Don tried the door. It was locked, but that made him feel better. If he had to use his key to get in, maybe everything was all right.
Inside the house, Don almost turned on a light out of habit. He caught himself just in time and stopped. Turning the light on would have made him an instant target.
He went through the house quickly, working from the living room to the back of the house, where Daddy’s bedroom was.
When he saw the broken window, Don almost cried out in fear. He made himself stay quiet. At the window, he looked down and saw two men lying in obvious death on the ground. Shel was squatted beside them.
“I told you to stay back,” Shel said without looking up.
“I couldn’t,” Don said. “Is that…?” He couldn’t say it.
“It’s not Daddy,” Shel said.
Thank God.
“But Daddy killed them both.”
“How do you know that?”
“They’ve each been shot once,” Shel said. “One through the head and the other through the heart. At a distance, that’s not such a big deal. But killing a man up close like this… and two of ’em, one right after the other?” He shook his head. “That takes some real nerve.”
“They would have killed Daddy if he hadn’t killed them first,” Don objected.
Shel stood and looked around. “I know. I wasn’t faulting him, Don. I’m just impressed. Taking a life ain’t like it is on television. Especially not if you’ve already done it before.” He paused. “You either learn to accept the need and that dark part of you that can do it, or you eventually get yourself killed. Not every law enforcement person I
