“I wondered if you noticed it,” Laredo drawled, “Or if you even knew what he used for wheels.”
“You did warn me to check the shadows,” Trey reminded him with a slightly grim smile and finished loading the rifle. “Sorry I can’t supply you with a rifle, but we only keep one in the Suburban.”
“No problem. I carry a friend in my boot.”
“Ready?”
Laredo nodded. “Let’s do it.”
“Tara said they were at the old mine office. We’ll make that our first stop.”
Ignoring the padlocked gate, they slipped under the side fence and angled toward the office, skirting the dirt road. Halfway there, Laredo signaled with two fingers and pointed to the two planes parked some distance apart. Trey nodded in response, aware of the new questions they raised and recognizing that he had to be ready for anything.
As they neared the building, he saw that its front door stood open. Immediately he altered his course, steering clear of its field of vision to approach the building from the side. Before he reached the shelter of its wall, he caught the sound of voices coming from inside. The alert tilt of Laredo’s head told Trey that he heard them as well.
“You’re frightened, Sloan. Too frightened to know what you’re doing.”
Laredo caught his eye and mouthed the name Rutledge. Trey nodded, recognizing the man’s voice. But who else was in there with him? Sloan for sure, probably Tara and Donovan. He held up four fingers, then added a thumb and shrugged his uncertainty, Laredo nodded agreement and inched closer to him.
“If this place was built to code,” he said in a low murmur, “it has to have two exits. I’ll slip in the back way. Give me five minutes.”
Trey didn’t ask how Laredo intended to deal with a door that was bound to be locked. A man resourceful enough to carry a gun in his boot wouldn’t be stopped by a lock. Trey watched him slip along the outer wall, barely rustling the weeds growing up against it, then inched closer to the corner himself, trying to practice the same brand of stealth.
“I’m not getting on that plane with you, Max, and that’s final.” Sloan’s voice rang out, sharp and determined.
But it was the force of her assertion that raced through Trey like a fire, erasing all doubt about where she stood. He was eager now for the confrontation that was to come as he realized just how much was riding on it.
“You don’t seem to understand the danger you’re in,” Rutledge insisted with his first show of anger. “You don’t think the Calders are going to welcome you back with open arms, do you? Sure, they want the baby. But not you. If you set foot on that ranch, the chances are you’ll never leave it. My God, Sloan, these people have a man on their payroll who’s wanted for murder. That’s their answer to everything. Violence. Why else would they have him?”
“Am I supposed to believe that simply because you say so?” Sloan was too angry to care what she was saying. “I know you wish that I’d be that stupid, but I’m not.”
“You think that’s a lie, do you?” Rutledge jerked a set of folded papers from inside his suit jacket and thrust it to her. “Read it yourself. Among his many aliases is the name Laredo Smith.”
“The hell you say.” Donovan grinned broadly while Sloan stared at the papers with a sudden feeling of dread. “I knew the minute I laid eyes on him, he could be lethal.”
“Take it.” Max shook the papers at her. “And tell me you can still trust the Calders after you read this. Or maybe you just don’t have the stomach for the truth.”
It was like the jab of a spur to her pride. Reacting to it, Sloan snatched the papers from his outstretched hand and moved away, keeping Jake tightly cradled in one arm. One-handed, she shook open the folds. A quick skim of the first page confirmed everything Max had said and more.
“This is talking about something that happened over twenty years ago—before he ever came to the Triple C.” It was hardly justification. Yet it was the only argument Sloan could find.
“Doesn’t it make you wonder why they would harbor a fugitive all this time?” Rutledge challenged with a certain smugness.
“Not as much as it makes me wonder if this document is real, or something you made up to trick me.” Sloan countered. “It would be rather simple for someone with your money. You can buy anything. Even a lie. Which is what this probably is.”
“Let me see them.” Curious, Tara reached to claim the papers.
Sloan immediately held them behind her back. “This piece of art is something Max gave me.”
“Stop it, Sloan,” Tara snapped with impatience. “I know something about forgeries. Let me look at them.”
Distracted by Tara’s persistence, Sloan failed to notice when Donovan bent toward Rutledge and said in an undertone. “We may have company. I caught a glimpse of shadow outside.”
In response, Rutledge looked directly at Sloan. “We have no more time to waste arguing about this. I’ll ask you one more time—are you going to get on that plane or not?”
Sloan answered with equal sharpness. “Never!”
“So be it.” Rutledge glanced sideways at Donovan and nodded.