McCall steadied her for a moment, following her grandmother’s gaze to the body lying in the shadow of the house and the old dog sitting next to it.
“It’s Alfred,” her grandmother said. “He has an ax in his chest.”
McCall could see that. “What are you doing out here?”
“Josey rushed out of the house saying to call you because Jack was in trouble. I came out to find out what was wrong.”
Josey, McCall thought, looking around the ranch yard. “I want you to go back to the house.” At the sound of a sole crunching on the gravel, McCall swung around to see Enid. She had stopped short of where her husband lay dead next to the door. She had her hand over her mouth.
“Enid,” McCall said, going over and taking hold of her arm. “I want you to take Pepper back into the house. Do you hear me?”
The ancient housekeeper nodded slowly.
“Now! Both of you, and stay there.” McCall moved along the building, glancing back to see that neither old woman had moved. Damn it. She didn’t have time to herd them back to the house. She reached the end of the building and saw where the boards had been removed.
The door into the old section of the house was open. Cautiously, she moved toward it.
FOR A MOMENT, Josey stood, her heart in her throat, afraid to breathe.
“Jack?” she whispered, as she stared into the dark room. The gun was in her hands, one finger on the trigger. She knew RJ might have already gotten to Jack. That if anyone was in the room it could be RJ, standing in the dark and laughing at her.
A light flashed on, the beam pointed at the floor.
Her finger brushed the trigger and jerked away. “Jack!” she cried. She lowered the gun and rushed to him. Her relief at seeing him unharmed made her throat swell with emotion. She could barely get the words out. “Alfred. He’s dead. RJ—” The rest was choked off as she saw the hole in the wall and what lay just inside it. “Oh, my God. Who—?”
“My grandfather,” he said, taking the gun from her and laying the flashlight on one of the shelves so the beam wasn’t pointed at them. “My mother had heard stories from people who used to work on the ranch about Alfred rocking up a wall in the old wing the day Call Winchester disappeared.”
The mention of Alfred brought back the horrible scene just outside. The words spilled out of her as she felt the urgency return. “I saw Alfred earlier carrying an ax and headed this way, so I came to warn you, but...” She shuddered as she met Jack’s eyes. “He’s dead. The ax is in...his chest. RJ’s here.”
Jack gripped her arm with one hand. He had the gun he’d taken from her in the other. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
They both seemed to hear the creak of a floorboard behind them at the same time. Turning toward the doorway, Jack stepped in front of her as they were suddenly blinded by a bright light.
JACK BLINKED, covering his eyes as he shielded Josey from the man standing in the doorway holding the gun on them.
“Drop the gun,” the man ordered, and lowered the flashlight so it wasn’t blinding Jack.
Jack knew he could get off at least one shot before RJ fired. He couldn’t take the chance that Josey might be hit.
He had risked her life for revenge. He would never forgive himself. But he knew even if they’d left earlier, one day RJ would have caught up to them. This encounter had been inevitable.
Jack just would have liked to be more prepared.
He felt Josey behind him, heard the small sound she made and knew this was indeed her stepbrother, RJ Evans, the man who’d framed her, hurt her and planned to kill her.
In the diffused light from the flashlight in his hand, Jack saw that RJ was tall and blond, with eerie blue eyes. He looked strong and solid and armed. Jack had to believe that RJ wouldn’t want to kill them here in this room, that he would get an opportunity to save Josey. It couldn’t end like this. He would do anything to save Josey.
“I said drop the gun. Now!”
Jack dropped the gun to the floor at his feet.
RJ smiled. “Hey, Josey. Shocked to see me? I thought you might be surprised that you hadn’t killed me.” He sounded angry, his words slurring a little as if he might be drunk or on drugs. “Could you have hidden someplace more hard to get to?” His gaze shifted to Jack. “And you must be the guy with the Cadillac convertible. Nice ride. I think I’ll take it when I leave here.”
Behind him, Jack felt something hard and cold suddenly pushed against his back. The crowbar. Josey slipped it into the waistband of his jeans.
“Now kick the gun over here,” RJ ordered.
JOSEY KNEW HOW this would end. She knew what RJ was capable of, his cruelty unmatched. He would make them both pay, Jack for helping her and putting RJ to all this trouble, and Josey—
She couldn’t think about that or the fear would paralyze her. This had to end here. The last time she’d shot at RJ it had been to stop him from killing both her and Celeste. She’d sworn then that she would never fire another gun, especially at another person.
RJ stepped forward before Jack could kick the gun over to him in a swift movement that caught both her and Jack by surprise. He caught Jack in the side of the head with the butt of his weapon.
Jack started to go down and Josey saw her chance. She dropped to the floor, snatched up the gun Jack had dropped and fired blindly at RJ. The gunshots exploded in the small room, deafening her, as she saw RJ stumble backward toward the doorway. His flashlight clattered to the
