The truck behind lagged and then lungedforward.
“Right there, where that white fence postis,” Grant said suddenly. “That’s the turnoff.”
Fuck.
Four. Taylor tapped the brakes.
Three.
Two. He tapped the brakes again. Harder.Slowed as much as he could in hopes of avoiding a skid that healready knew there was no avoiding —
He wrenched the wheel, and turned into theinevitable spin, hand over hand, going with it, praying as the LandCruiser hit the dirt, spraying sand and gravel, kicking across themoonlit stretch of grass and shrubs, the rough terrain grabbing atthe tires, slowing…slowing…
Not a road, just a large, round turn-off orstaging area. Thank God. Thank God for that much.
The Land Cruiser rocked to a hard stop, theshoulder restraint cutting into the still- sensitive scar tissue onhis chest. Beside him, Grant was breathing hard. “Christ.”He sounded exactly like Will at that moment.
“You okay?” Taylor asked him.
Grant nodded.
Taylor expelled a long breath. The SUV’sengine was still running. More good news. He checked the dashboard.Green lights everywhere.
“Hang on,” he muttered, and got out to checkthe tires.
His heart was still hammering as he walkedslowly around the Land Cruiser. All four tires looked fine. Thebumper had taken a beating, but it was still attached. He got backinside and buckled up.
“They tried to kill us,” Grant said. Hesounded like he couldn’t believe it.
“Maybe.”
“No maybe about it.”
“If it was the Dooleys, I’m guessing drunk,stupid, and dangerous is their natural state. They could have justas easily killed themselves.”
“If it was the Dooleys?”
“I didn’t see who was driving.”
“I did.”
“Okay. Well.” Taylor didn’t have the energyor inclination to argue. They could easily have been killed, Grantwas right about that. Malicious intent had certainly beenpresent.
He shifted into drive and pulled slowly,cautiously back onto the now deserted road.
The rest of the trip back to the cabin wentwithout incident. Taylor parked and they went inside only to findthe lights down low and everyone but Bill apparently retired forthe evening. Bill was nodding over his pipe in front of thefireplace. The dogs slept near him, Riley’s feet twitching in sleepas he chased dream rabbits or deer.
As Taylor followed Grant into the room, Billopened his eyes and straightened. The dogs lifted their heads,blinking sleepily in the firelight.
“Where is everybody?” Grant asked.
“Cousin Dennis was tuckered out from hisadventures. Your brother is taking a shower.”
Grant relayed the story of running into theDooleys at the liquor store and their subsequent near mishap on theroad.
“And you think it was the Dooleys?” Billasked Taylor.
“I didn’t get a license plate,” Tayloradmitted. “But it seems likely.”
“It was them,” Grant said. “Same dirty whitetruck. Same dirty white faces. I know it was them.”
“All right,” Bill said at last, grimly. “Ibelieve you. I’ll take it from here.”
Grant stood there seemingly undecided. Helooked at Taylor, looked away, looked back again. “That was gooddriving back there,” he said grudgingly.
“Thanks. That’s the advantage of a tacticaldriving course,” Taylor admitted.
Grant turned his back. “Night, Pop.”
“Night, son.”
Grant departed for bed, yawning widely.Roxie rose from her place by the fireplace and trotted afterhim.
Bill was smiling faintly as he studiedTaylor. “You look like you could use a drink.”
“What I really need is sleep, I think.”
“Other than the fact that you and my sonboth look like you were rolling around in the dirt earlier thisevening, neither of you seem the worse for wear.”
In the excitement of nearly being run offthe road, Taylor had forgotten all about the first part of his roadtrip with Grant. “I don’t know if we reached détente or not. Weeach had our say.”
Bill grunted. “Grant’s got a good heart, buthe’s as stubborn as a mule.”
Taylor nodded acknowledgment. He folded hisarms staring down at the fire. The movement of the flames wassinuous, almost hypnotic.
Bill took his pipe out and set it in thehandmade clay ashtray beside his chair. “Something on your mind,Taylor?”
Taylor said slowly, “You seem to be takingall this pretty calmly, Bill. I mean about Will and me.”
Bill took his time answering. He said atlast, “One thing about being a lawman as long as I was, you learnthere’s no such thing as ‘normal.’”
His blue eyes, so like Will’s, held Taylor’sgaze gravely.
Bill said, “I can’t say I ever noticed Willhad feelings for other boys, but when he told me he was gay, well,Will was always a level-headed kid. I knew there was no mistakeabout it, that it was something he’d been working through a longtime.”
Taylor nodded and looked back into thered-and-yellow flames dancing in the fireplace.
He heard the faint smile in Bill’s voice ashe said, “And it’s not like I didn’t know about you. From the timeyou and Will were first partnered, it was MacAllister thisand MacAllister that. Knowing you had the same orientation,I wondered how that was going to work out. I’d think sometimes,I hope this MacAllister feels the same way.”
Taylor laughed. “Actually I had to talk Willinto the idea. I still think he sometimes wishes…” That wasfurther, a lot further, than he’d meant to go. His face burnedhearing the echo of his words. He must be more tired than he’drealized.
Neither of them said anything as Billknocked the tobacco out of his pipe. He said suddenly, briskly,“You’re wrong about that. Will called me the night after you gothit. He said, Pop, Taylor’s been shot and nobody can tell me ifhe’s going to pull through. And then he couldn’t say anythingmore.”
Taylor cleared his throat. “Yeah, but that’sjust —”
But Bill shook his head. “The last timeWilliam came to me for comfort was the night his momma died. He wassix years old. He may not be good at talking about how he feels,but you were number one for him practically since the day youmet.”
It seemed to lift a weight off him Taylorhadn’t even known was there. He smiled at Bill.
“Thanks, Bill. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, son.”
Surveillance Report
Case #3433BR
Subjects: Brandt, William andMacAllister, Taylor
Investigator: Schwierskott
November 15, 2013 (Friday)
7:00 a.m.:
Investigator arrives at the residence of WilliamBrandt, Sr. located at 76011 Mellinger Road, Mist Bend, OR 97064.Investigator observes the blue 2010 Toyota Land Cruiser currentlyregistered to William Brandt in the driveway. Investigatorestablishes stationary vehicle surveillance with a view of thedriveway of the
