Page 42 of River Legacy
Treyton swore. “I don’t even want to know.”
“Yes, you do. I’m almost to your place now. See you soon.”
“Seriously, CJ, I don’t—”
He hung up before the man could argue further.
It was no surprise to find Treyton standing outside the shack he lived in, holding an automatic rifle. CJ pulled up, smiling at how he and a McKenna had been in business together not all that long ago. He’d made Treyton a lot of money and provided him with a whole new profitable enterprise while he’d been behind bars. The man owed him.
CJ climbed out and walked toward him, knowing Treyton wouldn’t use the weapon. He was bluffing. He’d always been a jerk. The McKenna family had pretty much disowned Treyton except for his father. Holden didn’t have the sense to realize that his son had no redeeming qualities and let him go.
“I don’t want to hear it.”
CJ shrugged. “Then, I won’t be able to change your mind.”
“Heard you’re living in an apartment in Miles City.” Treyton had perfected the mocking tone he used with most people. It was no wonder he lived out here in the badlands alone instead of on the McKenna Ranch. But it did make it easier for CJ to con him into doing most anything he wanted.
“The apartment is perfect,” he said lying through his teeth about that. He hated it, found it humiliating. He should be out at the ranch in his wing of the house. He should be running the ranch, but that, he realized, was an old dream that he had to let go. He had a new plan thanks to his mother.
“The apartment is perfect?” Treyton mocked.
CJ grinned. “How else could I have met with Wendell Forester there this morning without anyone being the wiser?”
Treyton let out a grunt. “Right, Wendell Forester, the billionaire developer. Did this new you serve him a cup of tea?”
“No, a Bloody Mary, if you must know. His daughter’s been staying out at the ranch after hooking up with Ryder. Maybe you heard.”
His eyes widened a little, even though he denied any interest. Clearly, Treyton hadn’t heard.
“I’ve promised Wendell the Stafford Ranch for a very large sum of money. Maybe you would be interested in some of it.”
Treyton frowned. “You running a con on Wendell Forester? Oh, you really are playing in the big leagues now.” He laughed. “You swindle him, and that man will have you killed and buried out here in the badlands.”
“It’s not a swindle. It’s a straight-up business deal,” CJ said.
“Just one problem, as I see it. You don’t have the ranch. In fact, you can’t even stay there. Come on, CJ, quit wasting my time.”
“Right, you’resobusy.” CJ looked away, grinding his teeth and trying for patience. “Do you really think I don’t have a plan? I’m going to get control of the ranch. I’m going to sell it, and I’m leaving the country. You can stay here and live like this, or you can help me and spend the rest of your life on a beach far away from here. You want in on this or not?”
“I never liked beaches. The sand. It gets between my toes, you know?” But he lowered the rifle. “What’s my cut?”
“Five percent.”
“Ten percent,” Treyton said, thinking he was in a bargaining position.
“Fine,” CJ said. “Ten percent of over ten million dollars. Let’s see how much that would be,” he said, pretending to run the numbers in his head.
Treyton’s eyes had gone as big as silver dollars since the man was capable of counting. “Who do I have to kill?”
Chapter Fourteen
Claude wasn’t looking forward to meeting another cowboy, especially from the same family as Ryder. He’d had his fill of Montana and couldn’t wait to leave. But Wen had offered him a deal. His last job for the man. Both Victoria and the cowboy would suffer. Then he’d be on the jet, sipping Wen’s expensive booze and winging his way back to Dallas a free man.
He was delighted that Wen was going after the cowboy’s ranch with both barrels firing. He’d seen what his boss could do when he set his mind to something he wanted. Claude couldn’t wait to see what Ryder thought of Forester when he came at him in his take-no-prisoners mode. Wen would get the Stafford Ranch, whatever it took. Ryder didn’t stand a chance.
As for Victoria, he smiled to himself as he neared Miles City. If Wen had done what he’d promised and cut her off, her life as she’d known it was over. Little Rich Girl was now poorer than Claude. She’d always depended on her father, working that rinky-dink job that paid squat and living like a queen, thanks to Daddy.
He wondered what she would do. He realized that she might even come crawling to him for help in the future. That thought certainly ticked up his mood as he parked in front of the apartment number Wen had given him.
