A_Wanted Man - Alana Matthews (16 page)

“Yes,” Landry croaked. “I understand.”

Harlan showed him a slow smile.

“I figured you would.”

Chapter Seventeen

Callie wasn’t having any of it.

“No,” she said, adamantly. “I’m not leaving. Not now.”

They had found Landry’s horse tied to a tree several yards from the spot where Harlan had snuck up on him. Harlan had uncuffed him just long enough to get him aboard, then snapped one cuff to the saddle horn and the other to his wrist.

In the meantime Rusty and Callie had rounded up their own horses, found Harlan’s first aid kit and tended to Mercer’s wound before getting him ready for travel.

Now Harlan was insisting that Callie go with Mercer and Rusty and leave him behind to deal with Landry and the fugitives.

“That’s just not gonna happen,” she told him.

“You trust Rusty to get the sheriff back in one piece?”

“He can get him within cell phone range. After that he’ll call the medevac crew.”

Callie wasn’t about to let Harlan shove her aside. Not now. She’d already gone along with his blatant disregard for due process and didn’t feel particularly good about it, even if it
had
resulted in Landry’s full cooperation. To her mind such behavior was a slippery slope, and she could only hope that this had been an exception rather than the rule.

Harlan said, “Considering the amount of time we’ve wasted, it could be dark before we get to the hideout. I don’t think this is a place you want to be after sundown.”

“You’re not changing my mind, Harlan. This is
my
investigation and I plan on seeing it through.”

“It could get ugly.”

“It already has,” she said. “And in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve managed to survive so far.”

Harlan studied her for a moment, and a smile grew on his face.

“What are you grinning about?”

“To be perfectly honest,” he said, “I was hoping you’d fight me on this.”

“Oh? Why?”

“Despite our bickering, Cal, I kinda like working with you.” He sobered slightly. “I’m full of all kinds of regret, and I really wish it could’ve been this way all along. Lived that dream we always talked about. With or without Treacher.”

Callie saw the sincerity in his expression. Knew the words were heartfelt. Tears unexpectedly threatened to fill her eyes, but she struggled to hold them back. She didn’t want anyone here seeing her cry.

Especially Landry.

But in that moment whatever animosity she’d felt toward Harlan dissolved. Disappeared. She didn’t know how long it would last, but it felt good to be free of it—even if only for a moment.

“So do I,” she said softy. “So do I.”

I
T TOOK ANOTHER
twenty minutes to get Rusty and Mercer on their way. Mercer’s bandage was bloody, but with the tourniquet still in place, the flow seemed to have stopped for now and he assured them he had enough strength to see himself through to the nearest cell zone. That he could even sit atop his horse in his condition was a testament to his iron will.

“You be good to my gals,” he said, struggling with his pain. “They get hurt, there’ll be hell to pay.”

Callie assured him they would, then watched the two men ride away, hoping against hope that they’d get the sheriff to safety before that wound started to bleed again.

When they were gone, Harlan and Callie mounted their own horses, then Harlan turned to Landry. “Showtime, Bickham. You plan on keeping your promise, or do you need a little reminder?”

Landry’s eyes widened slightly, his free hand moving involuntarily toward his nose, as if to protect it. Then he caught himself and scowled. “You better hope nothing goes wrong out there, son. If it does, you’re the first one on my list.”

“Yeah? How’s that working out for you so far?”

“Mark my words. You’re a dead man.”

Harlan’s eyes glazed. “You know how many times I’ve been told that over the course of my career? I’ve transported men who’d make you pee your pants if you spent more than five minutes with them. So don’t for a second think you can intimidate me, Bickham. If anyone should worry about winding up dead, it’s you. I won’t hesitate to shoot you, if I have to.”

Landry had lived nearly his entire life with the Pritchards, and some of their arrogance had obviously rubbed off on him.

“You’re good when a man’s hands are cuffed,” he said. “But that bruise on your face tells a different story.”

Callie cut in. “You know what, Landry?”

He turned, scowled at her. “What?”

“I think I like it better when you smile.”

“I’ll bet you do,” he said. “Everybody does.”

He let one spread across his face now, but it was so full of malice that the hairs on the back of her neck prickled.

“Even your mother liked it,” he said quietly. “Did I ever tell you I knew her in high school?”

Callie stiffened. “Not that I remember.”

“Knew your daddy, too. Even before I started workin’ for the Pritchards. He and Mary were quite the couple. But old Jonah, well, he just couldn’t abide by some tramp corrupting his perfect little son.”

“Call her that again,” Callie said, “and I’ll shoot you myself.”

Landry shrugged. “It’s not like I’m the first one to say it. But I never felt any ill will toward her. Truth is, I had a crush on her. If things had been different, who knows? You might be calling
me
daddy.”

The thought made Callie want to puke. But then it occurred to her that Landry was only trying to get a rise out of her. Keep her off guard and eventually he might be able to use her discomfort to make a move. She wasn’t sure how he’d do it with his hand cuffed to the saddle, but there was no point in taking chances, and she refused to let him get to her.

“Nice try,” she said. “But my mother wouldn’t have come anywhere near you even if she was dying of thirst and you had a bucketful of water.”

“Just shows how little you know. I’ll bet that grandma of yours painted a nice little picture.”

“I think you need to shut up now.”

“You’re completely clueless, aren’t you?”

“Enough, Bickham,” Harlan barked. “Don’t make me pull you down off that horse.”

Landry swiveled his head toward Harlan. “Hold on, now, I think this girl deserves to know about her family. About her momma
and
her daddy.” He returned his attention to Callie. “You probably believe all that nonsense about Riley Pritchard getting himself killed in a truck accident.”

“It’s the truth.”

Landry chuckled. “The truth can be manufactured if you’ve got enough money. We all learn that every time we turn on the TV. But I know the
real
truth about your daddy, and if you want me to keep it to myself, I’ll respect your wishes. Let you go on believing in fairy tales.”

Something sour turned in Callie’s stomach. She knew he was still playing with her, baiting her, but she also felt compelled to listen. Nana had never told her a whole lot about what had happened to her father, and she wondered if Landry really
did
know something.

“Tell me,” she said.

His smile widened, and she wondered why she had never noticed the ugliness behind it. “You sure you want to hear this?”

“Tell me,” she said again.

Harlan had good enough sense to stay quiet now. He would instinctively want to protect her, but he knew by the tone of her voice that this wasn’t the time to interfere.

Landry said, “Like I told you, your daddy didn’t die in no truck accident.”

“How, then?”

He waited a moment for dramatic effect. “Boy up and killed himself. Slit his wrists, right there in his barracks.”

Callie’s stomach flip-flopped and she felt prickles on her scalp. Could this be true?

“How do you know that?”

“Everybody in the Pritchard family knows it.”

“I don’t understand. Why? Why would he do that? Because his father forced him to join the army?”

“Jonah didn’t force him to do nothin’. He cherished that boy. Riley decided to run off on his own. When he found out about Mary.”

“Because she was pregnant?”

Landry huffed. “No, he was over the moon about that. You could barely contain the boy. He was gonna be a
father
.”

Callie was at a loss. “Then why? Why would he run away?”

“Because six months into her pregnancy, Mary told him the truth.”

“About what?”

“That he wasn’t your daddy after all. Turns out Mary wasn’t a one-man kinda gal.”

Callie’s gut tightend and he held her gaze, his eyes burning with intensity. He was enjoying this. And despite her skepticism, she had to ask the question.

“Let’s assume for a minute that you aren’t a lying sack of garbage. If Riley didn’t get my mother pregnant, who did?”

Landry showed her his most malevolent smile yet.

“Why, Jonah Pritchard, that’s who.”

Chapter Eighteen

The world turned sideways.

Callie felt a rush of dizziness slam into her and she nearly fell out of the saddle. She really
was
going to be sick now. Could feel the bile rising in her throat.

She didn’t think she’d ever come this close to fainting before, even when she got the news about Treacher. But she was close now. Had to muster up every bit of her will to keep from diving headfirst into the dirt.

Sensing her distress, Harlan nudged his horse up alongside hers and grabbed hold of her arm. “You okay?”

She was trying to control her breathing. Couldn’t get enough air to form any words.

“How you expect the girl to be okay?” Landry said. “News like that is bound to trouble
anyone
.”

“Shut up, Bickham,” Harlan snapped.

“I’m just the messenger. She’s the one insisted I tell her.”

“I said, shut up. You say another word, I’ll pull you off of that horse and beat you to a pulp. You understand?”

“Whatever you say, Marshal.”

Harlan glared at him then returned his attention to Callie. The world was starting to right itself now, and she was finally able to breathe.

“Easy, Cal. Just take it slow…”

She knew he must be thinking he’d walked straight into one of Nana Jean’s soap operas, but his blue eyes showed nothing but concern and she was grateful for that.

“I’m good,” she said. “Thank you.”

At least she hoped she was.

The thought that her mother had ever gone near Jonah Pritchard’s bed was ridiculous.

Wasn’t it?

He squeezed her arm. “Take your time.”

She put her hand on his and squeezed back. “No, I’m okay now. I’m fine.”

“Well, ain’t you two love birds a picture?” Landry said. “Just like Jonah and Mary. Of course, she was a good thirty years younger than him.”

Harlan turned, sitting upright in his saddle. “Your nose looks like it stopped bleeding, Bickham. You want me to fix that for you?”

“Anybody ever tell you you’re a violent man?”

“I’m not the one running around trying to kill people, remember? Keep flapping your gums and you’ll find out what violence really is.”

Landry opened his mouth, then immediately closed it again, finally smart enough to heed Harlan’s warning.

Something else that Callie was grateful for.

There was no way to know if he was telling the truth about her mother and Jonah, and she could only hope that he was the lying sack she thought he was. But Gloria’s unspoken accusation kept tumbling through her head, and that was enough to stir up some doubt.

Of course her mother had been eighteen at the time of her pregnancy, and was known to be a bit of a wild child. Was it possible that she had been attracted to Jonah? Had she been dating Riley, but secretly sleeping with his old man?

The thought sickened Callie, but then that’s exactly what it was designed to do. Landry was playing mind games. Trying to exploit a weakness where he saw it, to gain some kind of leverage over her.

But it wouldn’t work unless she let it.

And she wasn’t about to let it.

She steeled herself and sat upright, refusing to give in to his emotional terrorism.

“Can we get moving now?” she said to Harlan. “The sooner this creep and his friends are behind bars, the better I’ll feel.”

O
NCE THEY GOT STARTED
, they rode for another hour, continuing to wind their way through the Lost Woods. They had picked up the trail again, right where Landry had promised it would be, so at least he wasn’t taking them on a wild goose chase.