AK-Cowboy. Joanna Wayne
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the air. Makes it easier to move on.”
“Maybe,” Tyler muttered. But he wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready to move on if that meant just swallowing whatever his dad piled on the plate.
Talk ceased until the ditched car came into view. Troy slowed and swerved into a U-turn after they’d topped the hill and reached a straight stretch of road. He parked on the shoulder and turned on his emergency lights.
Tyler stepped out of the truck and walked straight to Julie’s car. His father stopped to study the tire tracks.
“Lucky she slowed before she veered into the ditch. If she’d slammed into that fence post at the same speed she’d left the highway she could have been seriously injured.”
“The mud slowed her down,” Tyler said, pointing at the grooves her tires had dug into the wet earth.
“Yeah, we had a gully washer about midnight last night. Rain didn’t last long, but the thunder rumbled for hours. And then we had a couple of quick showers today.”
“Julie hit the post hard enough to knock it over. I righted it, but it probably needs to be reset,” Tyler said, remembering the sight that had captured his attention.
Gorgeous, albeit muddy legs. Slim hips. Perky breasts. Dancing ponytail. Whip-cracking action. A surprise tightening in his groin shocked him back to the situation at hand.
“This is Bob Adkins’ spread,” Troy said. “I’ll let him know so that he can check it out. He’ll be surprised to hear you’re in town. Probably stop by first chance he gets.”
“Should I know Bob Adkins?”
“Probably not, but he remembers all you boys. He’s a good man. Honest. Hardworking. Church goer. The kind of friend who doesn’t tuck tail and run at the first sign of trouble. He’s one of the few who stood by me through it all. Him and Able Drake.”
Convicted of murdering your wife was a hell of a lot more than a sign of trouble. “Who’s Able Drake?”
“A good friend from way back. He had his troubles then, but he turned his life around. And he’s stood by me all the way, even spruced up the old ranch house before I got here. Surprised me with this new truck the day I was released.”
“Hell of a friend,” Tyler agreed. He jumped the ditch to reach the driver-side door of Julie’s car. Surprisingly, it was ajar, though he knew it had not only been closed but locked when they drove away.
“Someone’s tampered with the car,” he said.
“Probably looking for something to steal,” Troy said. “Times are changing, even in this part of Texas.”
Or else someone had been specifically looking for the material she’d had him load into his rental car. Her first words to him had been to ask why he was following her. He’d taken the question as ludicrous, but for all he knew, some nefarious character had been tailing her.
If so and the bastard had arrived on the scene before Tyler, she’d have had more than harmless cattle to crack her whip at. His apprehension surged when he saw the note attached to the steering wheel. He squinted in the sunlight to make out the words.
In spite of the scribbled print, the message was clear.
Someone wanted Julie out of Mustang Run—or dead.
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