The look on his face...the flash of violence behind his eyes sent a chill up her spine. Just who the hell was this guy?
Heart hammering, she remained out of sight until she heard the front door open and a third voice chimed in. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought the visitor might be Lila Wilkes.
Taking another quick glance around the corner, she hurried back into the kitchen and eased the drawer open to quietly extract the envelope. She undid the metal clasp, telling herself all the while that she was nothing more than a miserable snoop, spying on Dessie Dupre, of all people, a woman she’d known for most of her life. A woman who apparently counted on inheriting Dr. Nance’s house and a great deal of cash from his estate.
Keeping a sharp lookout, she pulled out the paperwork. The first document was Dessie’s will. The second was a copy of a marriage license issued ten days ago to Desiree Elizabeth Dupre and Cletus William Darnell. A photograph of a beaming Dessie and Clete had been clipped to the license, along with a Post-it note that read, “Happiest day of my life, babe.”
Dessie and Clete were married?
Holy sh—
Nikki went back to the will and quickly thumbed through the pages, noting the beneficiaries that included her sister and two nephews. However, the bulk of Dessie’s estate—which would include any inheritance from Dr. Nance—was to be awarded to her husband, Cletus William Darnell, upon her death.
ADAM CAUGHT A blur out of the corner of his eye a split second before he heard the dogs. They sprang from the corner of the building so quickly he barely had time to identify the threat before he turned and sprinted for the fence. Vaulting over, he landed with a hard thud that caused him to stumble. The dogs pressed against the fence, snarling so ferociously he thought they might rip right through the metal links.
He started to make a run for the woods, then hit the dirt as a bullet whizzed over his head. Another skimmed the air not five feet from where he lay. He pivoted his head, keeping his cheek pressed to the ground as he pinpointed the shooter. The man had climbed to the top of one of the crushed car stacks after letting the dogs out. When he saw that he had Adam’s attention, he lifted the rifle and fired off another round, the crack echoing down through the metal canyons. Evidently, Trespassers Will Be Shot was more than an idle threat, although from his vantage, even a mediocre marksman could have hit his target.
Which was why Adam didn’t pull his weapon and return fire. The thought had occurred to him that the man’s intent might be to provoke a gunfight so that taking out an armed and dangerous intruder on his property would be justified. Shooting a fleeing trespasser—a cop, no less—in broad daylight would likely get the man locked up, even in Texas.
While he reloaded, Adam leaped to his feet and dashed for cover, allowing the shadows at the tree line to swallow him up before he dared to glance back. The dogs had disappeared, but the man with the rifle retained his position on top of the crushed cars. Another thought came to Adam a split second before he bolted into the woods. What if the man’s real objective was to drive him into the swamp, where disposing of a body would be easier?
Despite that possibility, he kept going, zigzagging through the brush and trees until he finally had to stop to get his bearings. He’d run in the opposite direction of the road. At some point, he needed to double back and find his vehicle. Not yet, though. Not until he’d put a little more breathing room between him and that rifle.
He didn’t hear any sounds of pursuit. Not at first. He slowed to a comfortable stride. A breeze sifted through the pine trees, bringing the scent of the swamp. The ground grew soft beneath his feet as the canopy overhead thickened. Spanish moss dripped down from the branches, swaying like tangled hair in the wind.
Adam slowed yet again as he approached a murky channel that undoubtedly fed into the lake at some point. Lily pads carpeted the water, reminding him of the spot where he’d found Dr. Nance’s body. He didn’t see a corpse now, only the sinewy glide of a water moccasin, its dark, thick head lifted on a slender neck as it skimmed across the surface. As he watched, another snake slid from the bank into the water and yet a third slithered along the top of a partially submerged log.
He started to turn away from the infested water when a sound came to him through the trees, distant but headed his way. The dogs had been turned loose in the woods.
Another rifle blast startled a heron from the shallow water. Rather than directly behind him, the shot had come from his right. The man was on the road now, herding him away from his vehicle.
Adam glanced around. He might have been able to scurry up a tree to avoid the dogs or even camouflage his scent with mud, if he dared get that close to the snaky water. But a human predator wouldn’t be so easily fooled or discouraged. Maybe he was letting his imagination get the better of him, but Adam had the uncanny notion that he wasn’t the hunter’s first two-legged prey.
Turning, he sprinted through the trees, trying to outpace his pursuer while retaining a vague sense of direction in his head. The channel should run out to the highway, where it would connect with
