“This is private property,” the kid replied. His voice was as shaky as his gun hand. “I’m within my rights to shoot you. Best you leave before it comes to that.”

He kept the pistol aimed in Mason’s direction, though his hand swayed enough that he had Mason in his sights only about half the time. But that didn’t make Mason feel much better.

“I just have a couple of questions,” he said, slow. “You answer them for me, and I’ll be on my way.”

The kid’s lip curled. “Does this sound like a negotiation?” He took a couple of steps forward. Turned the pistol sideways, Hollywood style. “I’m telling you, get off my property or I’m gonna shoot you.”

“Are you going to shoot me, too?” That was Jess, come out from in between the two dingy trailers. She carried the shotgun with her and had Lucy by her side. “And the dog?”

The kid spun, waved the gun around in her direction. “You ain’t got but one gun between the both of you,” he said. “I’m supposed to be scared?”

Jess gestured at Mason with the shotgun. “Burke over there just finished doing fifteen years for first-degree murder, and he’s never pulled a trigger in his life. He doesn’t need to be armed to mess your shit up, kid.”

The kid looked at Mason. Swallowed a little, wet his lips.

“And this dog beside me is mighty protective,” Jess continued. “She’ll tear your throat out soon as you make a move.”

Now the kid looked at Lucy, who stood at attention beside Jess, watching him, her ears cocked. The dog wasn’t pissed off yet, Mason could tell, probably thought this was some kind of game—but the kid didn’t need to know that.

“You’ll get one of us, sure,” Jess said, and her voice was dead calm. “You won’t get us all. And if it’s me you decide you want to take down, you’ll want to make sure your aim’s good.” She leveled the shotgun at his chest. “Because if I have any life left in me after you pull the trigger, I’ll perforate your shit on my way to the ground, you hear?”

The kid stared at her. Swung the pistol around, wild, toward an approximation of where Mason was standing, then back to Lucy and Jess. “Who the fuck are you guys?” he asked. “What do you want?”

“That over there is Burke, like I said,” Jess told him. “The dog’s name is Lucy, and mine is Jess Winslow, and if we’re in the right place, I believe this whole sorry compound belonged to my husband.”

The kid’s eyes got wider. “Ty?”

“The very same.”

“Shit,” the kid said. “Ty—he told me all this was mine if anything happened. You can’t just come up here and take—”