Page 58 of Lone Star Wanted
She nodded but didn’t look at him.
His jaw tightened as he returned his hand to the wheel. She was doing what she had to do to protect her brother. And he would do the same. But if this went sideways, if this was a setup, if someone had lured them out there to finish what theystarted with Daniel Harlan… it was going to cost them. One way or another.
And he wasn’t sure who would pay the highest price.
Kincade drove through town, the streets mostly quiet as evening settled in. The storefronts were closed or dimly lit, windows reflecting the orange and purple hues bleeding across the sky. A couple of teenagers sat on the curb outside the diner, phones in hand, oblivious to the world unraveling just outside their vision.
The cemetery sat on the outskirts, tucked between a field of mesquite and a ridge of scrub-covered hills. Iron gates stood at the entrance, one rusted hinge groaning faintly in the breeze. Rows of headstones stretched out across the slope, bathed in the last light of day.
He slowed as he approached, eyes scanning the shadows between the markers, the gravel drive, the trees beyond.
No sign of Travis.
He drove past the main entrance, circling down the road until he could make a slow U-turn. His gut twisted. This was too quiet. Too clean.
It didn’t feel right.
By the time he looped back toward the entrance, a white van appeared in the side mirror. Jericho. The vehicle eased off the road, tires crunching the dry grass as it pulled into a patch of brush just up from the cemetery.
Jericho stepped out and didn’t waste time. He moved low and fast, vanishing into the trees that flanked the cemetery’s edge.
Kincade drove forward, pulling just inside the gravel drive and killing the headlights. He stared through the windshield, his fingers tightening on the wheel.
The silence was heavy, smothering.
Then a single gunshot shattered it.
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Chapter Sixteen
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At the sound of the gunshot, Cassidy’s heart kicked hard as she instinctively grabbed for her weapon. She turned toward the cemetery, eyes sweeping the headstones.
Kincade leaned forward in his seat, his jaw tight. “That came from the north side. Near the trees.”
Then she saw him. Not the shooter. But someone else.
“Travis,” she whispered, then louder. “Travis!”
He was running with his arms zip-tied behind his back, stumbling toward a row of headstones. A second later, he tripped and went down hard beside a granite marker, twisting to get back on his feet.
Another shot rang out, kicking up dirt inches from his shoulder. Cassidy didn’t hesitate. She shoved her door open.
Kincade cursed behind her. “Cassidy, left tree line.”
She knew Kincade meant it as a warning, telling her that it wasn’t safe to get out, but it sure as hell wasn’t safe for Travis either. He was exposed, defenseless, and seconds away from taking a bullet. So, Cassidy bolted from the SUV and hit the ground running.
The shooter fired again. Not at Travis this time though. The shot cracked past her head.
Kincade was on the move beside her, barking something she couldn’t hear over the blood pounding in her ears. They dovebehind a stone bench as another round slammed into it, chips of stone flying.
She crouched low, her breath coming fast. Her grip on her weapon tightened as she glanced toward where she’d last seen her brother.
He was still down.
Cassidy ducked as another shot splintered the edge of the bench, showering her with bits of stone. Her pulse hammered as she stole a glance toward Travis. He’d managed to scramble behind a large marble headstone, his body curled protectively behind the slab. For now, at least, he was out of the direct line of fire. But the shooter wasn’t giving up.
