Bucking Bronc Lodge 04(29)

In fact, in one interview Dugan had painted a picture of the perfect family, one he’d lost tragically. Had he fabricated that perfect past?

Adrenaline pummeled Miles, and he punched in Mason Blackpaw’s number.

Blackpaw answered on the second ring. “What the hell?”

Miles glanced at the clock and realized it was only 5:00 a.m. “Sorry, man, I didn’t realize the time.”

Blackpaw made a gravelly sound. “It’s all right,” Blackpaw mumbled. “Usually I’m already on my morning jog, but I pulled an all-nighter.”

“I hope that means you have news.”

“Not really. Thought I had a lead on Belsa, but it didn’t pan out.”

Damn. “Listen, I might have something,” Miles said. “I was studying the original interviews and I think there might have been something in Dugan’s past we missed.”

“What are you talking about?”

“One report shows that he claimed to have the perfect family. That his mother died of cancer and his dad in an accident. But in another interview when we asked about his family, he said, ‘Which one?’”

Once again, adrenaline spiked his blood. “Dugan said it like a joke, but what if his sarcasm really masked the truth? We didn’t think anything of it at the time, but what if he lied about that perfect family? What if he did have some family that we didn’t know about? A stepfather or stepbrother, someone who might have teamed up with Dugan.”

Blackpaw mumbled an obscenity. “You’re right. The family we had for him on paper doesn’t fit the psychological profile of a sociopath. But if he has a past we didn’t uncover, it could explain a lot.”

“I can come back and look into it—”

“No, stay put and I’ll follow up. I’ll call you as soon as I find something.”

Miles disconnected, for the first time in weeks energized that they might find Dugan and get justice for the women he’d murdered.

Maybe when he was behind bars, both he and Timmy would sleep again without seeing Marie’s blood in their nightmares.

* * *

JORDAN’S HEART RACED. She was a fighter, and she didn’t intend to let this man kill her.

She jammed her elbow in his stomach and knocked him backward, then rolled away from him.

She slid her hand beneath the mattress, closed her fingers around the handle of the .22, whipped it out and pointed at the figure. “Move and I’ll shoot.”

The hiss of the man’s breath echoed in the air. She had to get to her phone, call for help.

He made a sarcastic sound as if he wasn’t afraid of her, and she raised the gun toward his face. Then he lunged toward her. Adrenaline pumped through Jordan, and she pressed the trigger. The sound of the gun firing splintered the air, and the man swung his hand out to knock it from her, but she fired again.

Outside, a noise sounded. A truck engine? An animal?

The man must have heard it too, because he suddenly turned and jumped through the open window. Jordan was shaking as she chased after him.

She had to see where he was going. If he had a car. A horse.

Darkness washed the property in heavy grays as she searched the backyard. The rustle of bushes near the woods caught her eye. Then the sound of an engine... Where was it?

She was almost certain she’d heard a truck.

But there was no one in the drive. No...wait. She spotted taillights heading up the road toward the west pasture.

Furious and rattled from the attack, she shut the window and made sure it was locked, then flipped on the lamp. She had to do something to chase away the chill engulfing her from the inside out.

For a heartbeat, she paced the room, debating what to do. Was the intruder part of the gang who’d killed her brother? Or could it have been Dugan?

Why would he attack her?

A shudder coursed through her as the terrifying answers trickled through her mind.

Because she was a female.

And because she was working with Timmy.

If Dugan realized that Timmy had seen him and had tracked him and Miles here, he would want to keep Timmy from identifying him.

Calming herself with deep breaths, she crossed the room to her nightstand, laid the gun back down, then grabbed her phone. She clicked her list of contacts, then called Miles’s number.

God, she hated to wake him after the night he’d already had. But she had to report this. Tension knotted her shoulders as she listened to the phone ring. Once. Twice. Three times.

Then Miles’s voice. “Jordan?”

“Miles, someone broke into my cabin. A man...” Her breath caught.

“What? Are you all right?”

She heard his footsteps pounding the floor.

“I...have a derringer,” she said in a shaky voice. “I shot at him and he escaped through the window.”