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“The full autopsy report came in on Clayton Harker; the man had arthritis in both hands and had been so afflicted for many years. There’s no way to be certain of course, but the coroner’s best guess is that Clayton Harker had been incapable of holding, much less firing a gun at the time of your father’s murder.”

  “You’re saying that my father was murdered by a fourteen-year-old boy?”

  “It would explain why he was shot from behind; he probably assumed the boy was no threat to him.”

  I thought about my daddy, and in my mind’s eye I saw him standing inside Harker’s trailer. He had finally come face-to-face with the killer he had sought for so many years, only to be gunned down from behind by a boy he likely thought was merely a potential victim.

  “Miss Steele… Blue?”

  “I’m here Lawson, what’s in the package?”

  “Everything there is to know about Darrell Harker, including a psychological profile put together by the FBI.”

  “And what is your price for helping me?”

  “I would like you to consider joining my team.”

  “I wouldn’t do well in law enforcement. I don’t have the temperament for that kind of structured routine. It’s the reason I didn’t become a Texas Ranger like my father.”

  “You’ve met Jace; does he strike you as a typical member of law-enforcement?”

  “Hardly, in fact, when I first saw him, I thought you had brought your son along.”

  “Jace is on my team because he has talent. I look for talent, Miss Steele, talent going to waste such as your own. You’re ready for the big leagues; you proved that in Europe.”

  “I’m not an assassin, Lawson. Natalie Stone was an exception.”

  “Yes, but she’s not the first person you’ve killed. Also, I’m not looking for an assassin, I’m looking for a hunter of men; that is something that you excel at.”

  “Exactly what are we talking about here?”

  “You would be a Federal Bounty Hunter.”

  “There’s no such thing, and certain states have even banned bounty hunting.”

  “True, but in essence that’s what you would be while working for me. Technically, you would be an agent of Homeland Security, but there would be no time clocks and routine. My guess is that you’ll work less than you do now, but travel farther afield, and the men and women you’ll be looking for will be more difficult to find.”

  “As an agent of Homeland Security?”

  “Technically, and there would be a training period involved. You would have to learn their protocols and procedures, but you won’t be filing paperwork. My people don’t file paperwork, they simply get the job done and disappear.”

  “Is this what our mutual friend does?”

  “Dr. White’s husband? Yes, and no.”

  “Is there a chance that he and I would work together?”

  “Possibly, but I would think rarely, why, would his assured participation sweeten the pot for you?”

  “He’s a married man, Lawson, and I’m with Ramón.”

  “Of course, I meant no offense or insinuation.”

  “When do you need an answer?”

  “When you’re ready, this is an open-ended invitation.”

  “Not to be gauche, but what would this pay?”

  He named a figure, and stated that it was a salaried position, with full benefits.

  The number he named was less than my best year but more than my average, much more when you factored in the benefits.

  “I’ll get back to you soon one way or the other, but what about Protégée?”

  “Blue, the bastard may have murdered your father; you have my support in finding him regardless of what you decide.”

  “Thank you, Thomas.”

  “You’re welcome, and tell Mr. Acero that I said hello.”

  The phone went silent, and Lawson was gone.

  Chapter 5

  Darrell Harker, at twenty-six, was big, NFL lineman big. He was six-foot-six and three-hundred and eighty pounds. From the few photos included in Lawson’s package, not all of it was fat.

  In the photo taken for his commercial driver’s license, his black hair looked as if it were seldom combed and his wide-set eyes were narrow slits of blue above a pock-marked and crooked nose.

  “Three-hundred and eighty pounds? He’s a monster,” Ramón said.

  “Yes, and in more ways than one. It says here that his parents sent him to live with his granduncle when they became afraid of him. It seems young Darrell didn’t like rules and threatened to kill them in their sleep.”

  “So, they thought he was dangerous and still they sent him off to live with an old man?”

  “Apparently, this was all discovered the last few days as the FBI interviewed them. Instead of seeking help for the boy, they simply shipped him off to the only relative that would take him. That unwittingly placed him in the midst of a serial killer.”

  “All right, but why would someone like Harker take the boy in? He doesn’t sound like the grandfatherly type.”

  “If Lawson is right, the arthritis was getting worse by then and he probably needed help. So, a bad kid becomes schooled in the ways of serial murder.”

  “Do you believe he killed your father?”

  “I do.”

  “Let me help you track him down.”

  I picked up the files and let them drop atop the coffee table.

  “There are scores of agents looking for him and they have contacts and equipment that I can only dream of, my guess is that they’ll find him any day now.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  I was suddenly exhausted. I stretched out on the sofa, resting my head atop of Ramón’s thigh.

  He stroked my hair and asked a question.

  “What is it, Blue?”

  “When my father disappeared, it was like my world ended. I was seventeen and the most important influence in my life just vanished. His disappearance stayed a mystery for twelve years. Now we know what happened, but his killer is still out there somewhere. If the authorities fail to capture him, then I’ll have to go look for him. That’s a search that could take time, possibly years.”

  “And all you want to do is put it behind you and mourn,” Ramón said.

  I sat up and stared at him. “You understand that?”

  “Yes, I understand wanting to move on; I’ve done it more than once myself.”

  I sat up, laid back in his arms, and crossed his hands over my stomach.

  “Just hold me for a while, okay?”

  Ramón answered by embracing me and kissing the top of my head. I fell asleep in the comfort and safety of his arms.

  In the morning, I rose from bed early, causing Ramón to stir, but after I told him to go back to sleep, he closed his eyes and drifted off again.

  After making coffee, I went out onto the patio at the rear of the home just after first light. I had a lot to think about and much to decide. It felt good to sit quietly and ponder it all. By the time Ramón padded downstairs in his bare feet, I had a clearer sense of what I wanted and needed to do.

  Ramón and I kissed, and afterward, he settled in across from me with a steaming mug of coffee.

  He stared at me. “You look more at peace this morning.”

  “I am, it’s very tranquil here and I had time to think things through.”

  I waited for it, and when it didn’t come, I smiled.

  “What’s so funny?” Ramón said.

  “I gave you a perfect opportunity to bring up the subject of my moving in here and you passed on it.”

  “The last thing I want to be is tiresome, however, now that you’ve brought it up…”

  I told him about the eviction notice I received and that the clock was ticking on my finding a new place. Ramón spread his arms wide.

  “There’s plenty of room here, and even if it’s only temporary you’re welcome to move in, who knows, you may never want to leave.”

  “I’m more worried about someday being asked t
o leave.”

  Ramón put his coffee mug down and leaned forward.

  “What’s the longest relationship you’ve ever had with a man?”

  “That would be Gary.”

  “And that lasted…?”

  “Just shy of a year, does that worry you?”

  “My track record is even worse, but then, none of those women were you.”

  “Can I have more time to consider it?”

  Ramón laughed. “You can take the rest of your life.”

  Later that morning, I returned home and discovered another missive had been slipped beneath my door. It was a second note concerning the eviction and it mentioned my failure to respond to the first notice. I sat down on the arm of my sofa and looked around at what had been my home for over ten years.

  Along with the couch I sat on, there was a set of matching chairs, a coffee table, two bookcases, a TV, various paintings and bric-a-brac of little or no value, and a throw rug. There was a bedroom set in the other room and a dinette set in the kitchen. Besides my clothes, the bedroom closet also held two extra guns, a rifle, spare ammunition, and five-hundred dollars of emergency money in a coffee can.

  All of it was either old or easily replaced and none of it meant anything to me.

  My sister, who I always considered flighty, was now married and having a baby. Meanwhile, I was still living in a rented cubicle and chasing cheap crooks around Texas.

  I once considered myself a woman with a plan. The plan was that I would retire from bounty hunting and own a ranch of my own by the age of forty. It was a good plan, but what about the years in between?

  And just who was it that thought this plan up? It was my teenage self, that’s who; I was living my life based on the wants and desires of a teenager.

  I still wanted a ranch someday, but I wanted so much more as well, like a stable relationship, possibly even children.

  I sat there like that, lost in thoughts about life and living, until I noticed the time. I had plans to meet with Becca and I had been ruminating for so long that I’d be late. After a quick shower and a change of clothes I was out the door.

  Becca gave me an extra-long hug as she greeted me. I realized that it was because of all that was going on with the discovery of my father’s body.

  “How’s your mama doing, Blue?”

  “She’s good; we’ve all been expecting this news for a long time, but enough about sad things, let’s get this place ready.”

  I was there to help decorate for a birthday party for Becca’s husband, Richie. Richie and Becca had been together most of their lives and seemed to grow more in love each year. I considered Richie the brother I never had. Despite being six-foot-four and muscular, he was also one of the gentlest men I knew, and he was a great father to their five kids.

  After we hung the HAPPY BIRTHDAY RICHIE banner across the living room wall, Becca proclaimed the decorations complete. I joined her in the kitchen, where I watched her spread icing on a two-tiered cake.

  “Ramón wants me to move in with him.”

  Becca smiled. “I knew he was a smart man, are you considering it?”

  “Yes, it’s just…”

  “Just what?”

  I gave a little shrug.

  “He didn’t ask me to marry him, so it sorta feels like he’s leaving himself a way out.”

  Becca swiped at my nose and left a dab of vanilla icing on its tip.

  “Oh, you silly thing.”

  I wiped off the buttercream icing with a napkin and scowled at her.

  “Why am I silly?”

  “If he had asked you to marry him this soon, you would have run the other way. Ramón is smart enough to know that, and so he’s going after you in increments.”

  I opened my mouth to deny what she’d said and then closed it again.

  Becca was right. If Ramón had spoken of marriage I would have run the other way, not immediately, but I would have backed away.

  “I love him, Becca.”

  “More than you loved Gary?”

  “That’s not something I can quantify, but Ramón accepts me in a way that Gary never could. Ramón sees me for who I am and embraces it, Gary ran from it, out of fear for my safety, but he ran. How could I live with a man who couldn’t accept me?”

  Becca swiped at my nose again, and this time it was chocolate.

  “I have a better question for you. How can you stand to live apart from a man that does accept you?”

  As I absently licked the icing from my fingers, Becca’s words echoed in my mind.

  The party was great. It felt so good to just kick back and have fun with my friends.

  As usual, Becca’s daughter, Amy, shadowed Ramón around. Amy was nine and had a crush on Ramón since the day they’d met. I watched him interact with her and with Becca and Richie’s other children. He would make a great father.

  As Richie opened his presents in the midst of his family and friends, Ramón leaned over and whispered in my ear.

  “That Richie, he is the luckiest man I know. Look at the faces of these people, they all love him.”

  I whispered back. “Jealous?”

  “Envious is more like it.”

  I helped Becca clean up, and so Ramón and I were the last to leave.

  After I climbed in my truck, he leaned in and kissed me.

  “Are you coming by, or going home?”

  “Home, I’m running down a list of skips tomorrow with George and Randy and we’re getting an early start.”

  “Stay away from pig farms.”

  “Trust me, I will.”

  “Have you given Lawson’s offer more thought? I think you’d make a hot federal agent.”

  “I’m still considering it… along with other things.”

  Ramón put his hands up. “I didn’t mention it.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry that it’s taking me so long to decide.”

  “You’ve got a lot on your mind these days.”

  I sighed. “That’s for certain.”

  We kissed again, said our “I love you’s” and drove off in separate directions. As Ramón’s taillights disappeared in the distance, Becca’s words echoed once more through my mind.

  Chapter 6

  George, Randy, and I spent the next morning checking the possible locations of several skips. By the time we decided to break for lunch, we had captured three men and two women. They were worth a grand total of twenty-five hundred each.

  George and Randy always worked together and were often mistaken for brothers because they looked alike. They were actually cousins. Both were six-feet tall, with average builds, and had dark hair and mustaches.

  As Randy joined George and me at our table, he smiled.

  “Not a bad day’s work, hmm?”

  I nodded my agreement with a mouth full of cheeseburger and looked around at all the kids running about. We were at a fast food place just off State Highway 360 on a Saturday afternoon. As I took a sip from my soda, I glanced out the window and saw a face that I had just seen on a wanted poster that morning.

  Actually, I had been seeing his face all week as his story and the story of “Herd Thinner” vied against each other for airtime on the nightly news. His name was Dirk Ward. He was a former football player suspected of murdering a woman in Vegas. Ward had skipped out on a million dollars in bail. The last report I heard said that Dirk Ward was thought to be in the L.A. area, but I’m good with faces, and men as big as Ward were few and far between.

  I leapt up from the table, pulling Randy along as I went.

  “The big blond guy parked at the light, and in a red Hummer of all things, am I crazy, or is that who I think he is?”

  George spotted him first and nearly choked on his food.

  “That’s him, holy shit that’s Dirk Ward.”

  We ran from the restaurant just as the light changed and Ward drove off. I jumped into my truck as the boys scrambled into Randy’s Dodge and off we went in pursuit.

  I gave Randy a call
when I had Ward’s Hummer in sight.

  “What’s up, Blue?”

  “Let’s not spook him and get caught up in a high-speed chase. I’ll pass him as you guys follow from behind. When he gets where he’s going, we’ll take him down.”

  “It looks like he’s headed into Arlington, and yeah, we’ll play it cool. If not for the bad knee, that guy would still be playing pro ball. He was a mean bastard too, Ward liked to put the hurt on quarterbacks just for fun.”

  “If he goes inside before we can get to him we call the cops and let them handle it, agreed?”

  “Yeah, the bounty would be sweet, but I’d like to be around to spend it,” Randy said.

  We followed Ward for another twenty minutes and watched him pull into a gas station. I drove past him as Randy followed him inside the lot and pulled up close behind him at the pump. I spoke to Randy as I U-turned.

  “Let’s do it here. I’ll block him in and we’ll take him as soon as he steps out of the truck.”

  “That’s good, he’ll be watching you as you pull in and George and I can sneak up from behind, but be sure to make a lot of noise to grab his attention.”

  “Be careful, guys.”

  “You too, Blue.”

  I came flying into the station while blowing my horn, just as Dirk Ward emerged from the Hummer. He was big all right. It brought to mind the photos Lawson had sent me of the hulking Darrell Harker, Protégée, my father’s killer.

  We had hoped my arrival would distract Ward, but instead, it alerted him, and he jumped back into his vehicle. I swung open the door on my truck as Randy and George closed in from the rear.

  Randy screamed at Ward, telling him that we were bounty hunters and that we were placing him under arrest.

  Ward started his Hummer, jammed it into gear, and rammed my precious truck.

  My daddy had given me the truck on my seventeenth birthday, and it is the only vehicle I have ever owned, a vehicle I probably spent more time in than my own apartment.

  I was gripping the steering wheel and mashing my brakes. Despite that, the huge Hummer gave one final push and sent my truck rolling backwards.