Meyer pulled back, nodding. Yeah, he recognized the fight in Vaughn’s words. He knew Vaughn had dropped his gloves, prepared for a bare-knuckled battle. “Funny you should mention aggravated assault,” he said in an oily voice. It was his turn to grin maliciously. “In my estimation, that’s what Rachel Sorentino is going to be charged with.”
Damn, he hated hearing her name out of the bastard’s mouth, hated even more that she was on Meyer’s radar now. Even though she was justified in shooting Junior, there was no doubt in Vaughn’s mind her actions had marked her and her family for a lifetime of police harassment in Tucumcari. “Tut, tut, Chief. There you go, trying to do my job again. When are you going to get it into your huge melon that events outside your city’s limits are none of your business?”
The pink of Meyer’s ears flooded the rest of his face. When he spoke, his voice was thick with anger. “This is my damn business because it involves my damn son.”
Vaughn chewed, fake-contemplating Meyer’s words, and blew another bubble. It was a big one that popped with a crack. “I understand, Chief. Believe me, I do. And what I’d tell any concerned parent this early in an investigation is to go home and take care of your family, and let me do my job.”
He patted Meyer on the shoulder consolingly, then reached into his pocket. “Would you like a stick of gum? It’s spearmint.”
Meyer eyed the gum with a rabid look. Vaughn halfway thought he’d start foaming at the mouth. Tamping his giddiness, Vaughn held the gum aloft and kept smiling.
“You may think kicking me while my only child’s life hangs in the balance is something you can get away with, but you’re wrong,” Meyer hissed. “Seems you’ve forgotten who holds the power in this county. Don’t think it’s escaped my attention that you’re up for reelection this year. If you’re not careful, you’ll find yourself back to picking shit out of horse hooves like your parents.”
There it was, the look Vaughn had been waiting for. The real Wallace Meyer. The bastard Vaughn was going to nail to the wall. He cocked his head to the side, eyebrows raised. “Not exactly the insult you intend it to be, Chief.” If he could live his life with half as much happiness and love as his parents did, he’d consider his time on Earth a success. Of course, Meyer only saw their jobs and their economic standing, not the good, honest people they were.
“It’s good to know you feel that way, because after the November election, your time of power is over.”
“Yeesh. So dramatic. Guess I’d better make the most of my few remaining months in office.” He flipped open his wallet and withdrew three dollar bills, which he stuffed in Meyer’s shirt pocket. “Don’t forget to buy your wife that coffee. My treat.”
With a two-finger salute to his temple, Vaughn strode across the driveway to the parking lot. While he waited to question Junior, he’d use the laptop in his patrol car to look through the crime scene photos Binderman had found on Rachel’s camera.
Given the scope of Meyer’s influence, he could easily cost Vaughn his reelection. But he couldn’t let fear of the future weigh his choices. He’d waited his entire career for a chance to show the world the true nature of Meyer and his son. Call it a personal quest, but he saw it as his life’s work to strip rich, powerful bullies of their authority. If he lost November’s election bid, he’d start over on his quest somewhere else, and this final challenge to Meyer’s policy of corruption would stand as Vaughn’s local legacy.
He could only hope.
As soon as Meyer and the hospital coffee cart disappeared from view around the corner, Vaughn spit the wad of gum into a trash can and dialed Nathan Binderman, his buddy Chris’s younger brother and the latest member of Vaughn’s team. He could’ve radioed, which was their usual protocol, but it was impossible to know if one of Meyer’s lackeys were listening in.
“Binderman here.”
“You at the scene still?”
“Logging shell casings, sir. The number’s pushing forty. Looks like it was a hell of a gun battle.”
“What caliber are the casings?”
“Mostly 2-2-3s, with a half dozen .38s in the mix. The 2-2-3 casings line up with the images from the victim’s camera of the suspects and their firearms. Looks like they were packing AR-15s.”
Vaughn froze midstride. “AR-15s? What are a bunch of young, country hicks doing with assault rifles?” Damn, he was glad he didn’t know that sooner. He would’ve lost his composure for sure in front of Meyer. Rachel had been lucky to escape with her life with that many high-powered rifle bullets flying around. “Have you uploaded the camera’s photographs to my e-mail?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Has animal control been called about the horse’s body yet?”
“They’ve come and gone,” Binderman said. “I uploaded photographs I took of the horse and the canyon the body was found in.”
“Nice work. I’m on my way to take a look at the photos. You’re out of daylight. That going to be a problem for processing the scene?”
“No, sir. Kirby brought lights in before she and Molina took off. I’m set for the duration.”
“I’ll send Stratis to help you as soon as Meyer Jr.’s out of post-surgery observation.”
From the photographs on Rachel’s camera, Kirby had recognized one of the two men who fled the scene as Elias Baltierra, whom she’d arrested a couple years back for drug possession with intent to sell. She’d called Vaughn to get the green light to pursue the lead. With them chasing down suspects, Binderman processing the scene, and Reyes standing guard duty over de Luca’s hospital room, his department was spread as thin as it could go. And he hadn’t yet figured out who he could spare to stand watch outside Rachel’s door.
Vaughn opened his patrol car door and stood aside while the day’s hot air poured out. There was still no breeze to speak of, but at least the sun was setting. Maybe the temperature would drop below a hundred by the time the stars came out.
“Hey.” He turned to see Kellan striding his way, a murderous look in his eyes, the posture of his two hundred ripped pounds of six-foot-four body tense with fury. Kellan was about the only man Vaughn knew who could make his respectably muscled, six-foot-one frame feel puny.
Vaughn straightened to his full height. “Something tells me you’re not here to discuss the meal plan for Sunday’s barbecue.”
Scoffing, Kellan braced his hand on the roof of Vaughn’s car. “We’ve known each other a long time, and I’ve never seen you do anything this stupid.”
That got right to the point. The two of them had been inseparable friends since their early twenties after Kellan, a newly minted rancher in the area, hired Vaughn’s dad as a farrier. The day Vaughn stopped by his folks’ house to announce he’d been hired as a sheriff deputy, Kellan happened to be there, picking up some horseshoes. They went out for celebratory beers and the rest was history. He loved the guy like the brother he’d never had, and it looked like they were about to have a rare brotherly disagreement. “Not even that time we challenged those bikers to a game of pool and I called one of them Nancy?”
“Cut the act, Vaughn. You can’t play this one off with a joke.”
“I’m not playing anything off with a joke. Don’t insult me like I don’t fully grasp the stakes in this investigation.”
“If you’re so clear on the stakes, then why aren’t you recusing yourself?”
Vaughn propped a boot on the edge of the door opening, scowling. “It would be impossible for me to convey how deeply I regret confiding in you about my history with Rachel, because now you won’t let it go.”
“You need to make things right with her, and this is not the way to go about it.”
Vaughn scrubbed a hand over his chin. “Don’t start with me, K. I’ve already told you, there’s no way to make things right with her. We’re over. Done. There’s nothing keeping me from doing my job with this case. And that job is sticking it to the Meyer family like no one else has had the balls to do.”
“I admit that your vendetta against Wallace Meyer is justified, but it’s still not worth giving up on Rachel.”
“Oh, my God, you’re dense. There’s nothing to give up on. Back in December, when Amy and Rachel’s mom was dying, I let you talk me into being there for Rachel. I stood in that hospital hallway with you for hours, waiting to be there for her. When she came out of her mom’s room and saw me, do you remember what she said? She said, ‘Go away, Vaughn.’” It still made his insides reel to remember the way she’d looked while saying that to him. Like he was nothing but dirt on her shoes. “Giving it any more of a try would be pathetic.”
“Fighting for the person you love is never pathetic.”
“Who ever said I loved her?”
Kellan let out an incredulous snicker. “Please. It’s written all over your face every time her name comes up.”
“There’s a huge difference between lusting after a woman and being in love with her.”
“Trust me, I know.”
The sun was broiling Vaughn where he stood. The shade from the brim of his hat wasn’t doing him a lick of good. He unbuttoned his cuffs. “I am not in love with Rachel Sorentino, and I don’t need you to help me get in touch with my feelings or some pansy crap like that.” He rolled the sleeves to his elbows. “A year ago, you would’ve never butted into my personal life like this. Now that you’re getting married, you think you’re some kind of relationship god.”
“Look, I don’t pretend to understand what you and Rachel see in each other, but I do know that you should not be working her case. Let your deputies take care of it.” He pointed toward the hospital. “Go back up to her room. Sit by her side and take care of her like I know you want to.”
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