Jim slid from the cab, hands again upraised, then shut the door behind him. I used the sound to mask my opening the door on the other side, then slid to the ground.

“I’d like to understand. Please tell me. I’m listening.” Jim’s legs were visible under the truck. He stepped forward and right, pulling the man’s attention in that direction.

I crawled swiftly on hands and knees in the opposite direction, ending up by the rear bumper. I risked a quick glance up the hill at the man.

“Don’t come no closer or I’ll shoot her.” He jammed the pistol harder into the woman’s temple. Her eyes squeezed shut.

“I won’t. Tell me about what happened.” Jim continued to move away from the truck and toward the man. “I understand you’re upset.”

“Upset?” The man spit on the ground next to him. “Upset!” His eyes were like white marbles. “I told ya, he didn’t do nothin’!”

“And I hear you. What did people think he did?”

“Killed them women.”

“Are you talking about Kirt Daday?” Jim lowered his hands slightly.

I rested my hand on the bumper and sighted in on the man’s head. The pistol shook. My brain kept pounding out, Terribly wrong.

“’Course I’m talkin’ about Kirt!”

Shoot, Darby!

“He just wrote them notes for me.”

I gasped. Daday didn’t write the notes? Had I identified the wrong man?

“What do you mean?” Jim shifted his weight and prepared to step forward again.

“I mean you killed the wrong guy.” He pulled the trigger. His hostage dropped, pulling him off balance.

Darby, shoot!

Jim looked at me, eyes wide.

Pull that trigger!

“Now, Darby. Shoot now!” Jim screamed.

The killer fired again, this time at my husband.

Jim crumpled.

Run! I leaped up and ran toward a line of trees.

Something smashed into my leg. I pitched forward. The ground rushed up to meet me. I landed hard on my side. The odors of dust and dead grass and the coppery stench of blood filled my nose. My vision narrowed to a small pinprick of light. In the center was the killer. In slow motion, he rose from the ground.

I felt around me for my pistol.

The killer walked up to me and raised his gun.

My hand encountered only grass. I’m going to die.

He put his gun into his mouth and pulled the trigger.

Chapter 24

Bram couldn’t believe he’d ridden so far, nor that the ground had been so rough. He felt like he’d climbed uphill for miles. He hadn’t been able to come up with a plan for what to do at Mule Shoe other than observe and try to find the killer.