Salvation in the Sheriff's Kiss(82)

“Reynolds is long gone. I am the one in charge now.”

She chanced one last glance out the window. Her heart sank. The shadow on the ridge was gone. It had been nothing more than the play of light and a figment of her imagination. An imagination that wanted to live, to have another chance.

“Where is the evidence?” Laidlow took a step forward.

“I don’t know.” She hated how her voice shook.

“I think you do. And I think you’d best tell me. My patience is wearing very thin.”

Meredith didn’t doubt he would kill her. He would put a bullet straight through her and walk away without a moment’s remorse. He would have done the same to her father had Pa not been smart enough to see it coming and cagey enough to do something about it.

“What makes you think I’ll just hand it over?”

“What other choice do you have if you value your life?”

It was an empty threat. “You’re going to kill me either way. I’m a loose end, remember?”

“Indeed you are. The question is, will I show mercy and kill you quickly, or will I let Tyrone here have his fun first?” Tyrone grinned and bile burned Meredith’s throat. “Where is the evidence?”

She swallowed. Her time was up. No one was coming. “It’s in here.”

“Show me.”

Pa’s rifle lay on the floor near the bed. She edged toward it. If she was going down, she would go down shooting. Maybe if she could kill one or both of them before they did her in, the story of a despondent woman killing herself wouldn’t be as believable. Maybe someone would look a little closer, find the evidence hidden in the mirror and Pa’s name would be cleared.

She’d like to see that, though right now the chances were not looking good.

She took a step forward closer to the rifle. “How does Sheriff McLaren figure into this?”

“A means to an end, nothing more. The man wanted to retire. We offered to make that a more profitable prospect, provided he looked the other way while we did business. Every man has his price. Unfortunately, his conscience started to get the better of him after your father was arrested.”

“For a crime he didn’t commit.”

Laidlow shrugged in response as if her father’s innocence was irrelevant. As if lives hadn’t been changed forever. Destroyed beyond repair. She hoped there was a special place in hell for him where he would be the one judged and sentenced for all the pain he’d caused in the name of greed.

“You’re stalling.” Laidlow waved a hand at the room. “Where is it?”

She pointed. “Under the bed.”

“Get it.”

Her mind worked quickly. “I can’t. It’s hidden in the far end of the bed, next to the wall. The bed is too low to fit under and too heavy for me to move on my own.”

Laidlow motioned to Tyrone. “Help her.”

Tyrone set his gun against the wall, well out of her reach and Laidlow bent and picked up her father’s rifle. She bit back the desperation clawing at her insides. She had no weapon, no hopes of escape and within a matter of minutes they would have the evidence in their bloodstained hands. She needed more time. She needed—

Before she could finish the thought, the front door exploded inward. Tyrone turned and lunged for his rifle. Without thinking, Meredith kicked blindly, her boot connecting with bone and throwing him off balance. A shot rang out. Tyrone slumped against the wall and slid to the floor. Her gaze flew to the bedroom door. A thin plume of smoke curled up from the barrel of Hunter’s gun. He was alive! Caleb Beckett pointed his Colt at Laidlow’s head.

She would have sighed in relief if Laidlow didn’t still have her father’s rifle aimed directly at her.

“Move and she’s dead,” he growled.

Meredith didn’t dare breathe.

“It won’t do you any good,” Hunter said. “You’re a dead man before you even pull the trigger.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

“Then you’re a dead man either way.”

Laidlow lifted the rifle a little higher, settling it tightly against his shoulder. Her knees shook. “If he shoots—”

“He won’t,” Hunter said, his voice laced with steel. The lamplight wavered and for the first time she noticed the makeshift bandage around his arm. Laidlow hadn’t been lying about the ambush.

“Will you lookee here?” Meredith jumped as Bill Yucton waltzed into the room with a casual saunter as if nothing unusual was going on. He had no gun she could see and his hands were buried in the back pockets of his pants. He smiled at Laidlow. “Doesn’t appear to be your lucky day, does it, Judge?”