Page 60 of Backtrack

Then a gunshot split the night air. Moffit’s Browning nine-millimeter.

That had to be the signal!

Miraculously, the cop was still on his feet. Moffit stood some twenty feet away, facing him, hands in the air. He’d returned the Browning Hi-Power to his belt holster.

The crazy bastard wanted a gunfight.

The cop had drawn his sidearm at the sound of the first shot and spun, gun in one hand, radio in the other. His night vision destroyed by the headlights, it had to be impossible for him to see much of anything.

Pink switched on his headlights and punched the accelerator, swerving around Duvall as both vehicles drove straight toward the barbed-wire fence. They’d go right through it rather than worrying about the gate a hundred yards to the south.

Closer now, illuminated by both oncoming vehicles, the gunfight seemed to play out in slow motion.

Moffit was fast. Too fast. It wasn’t so much a fight as it was an execution.

Yeah, Pink thought. He could learn a lot from this guy.

CHAPTER 21

Johnson’s heart sank when he slid to a stop behind Gary Ewell’s lone patrol car. Ewell was on the ground, his boots and outstretched legs just visible. A straw hat lay in the grass stubble beside the county road, spattered with blood. Johnson let the dispatcher know he was on the scene, and that any suspect vehicles had fled, simultaneously flinging open his door—terrified at what he was going to find. Johnson drew his gun out of habit and scanned the area for other threats. Here, too, the air was filled with dust. Whoever had done this was long gone.

“Parker County 68,” Dawn Hatcher’s voice was wound tight enough to snap. “Can you give me a status, please?”

Johnson holstered his weapon and fell to his knees. He put his fingers to the side of his friend’s neck, checking for a pulse, though he knew there was no need.

“Parker County 68,” the dispatcher called again. “Please advise status.”

Johnson held his dead friend’s hand and stared into the darkness. He ignored Hatcher’s frantic calls for the next full minute.

Worry, no matter how terrified, held a sliver of hope—and in the moment, that was better than the truth.

The phone call from Parker County Dispatch woke D Wayne Cutter from a fitful sleep at a quarter to three. Lucy stirred and then rolled out to put on a pot of coffee. He told her to go back to bed, that he didn’t have time to wait, but by the time he’d washed his face, dressed, and snapped the keepers on his gun belt, she methim in her nightgown with a full thermos ready to go. She tucked it under his arm as he opened the screen door to leave.

He sighed. “It’s the middle of the night. I wish you’d go back to b—”

She glanced up at him. “And I wish you’d hush and take the coffee.”

Cutter lifted the thermos as if in a toast. “I’ll think about you while I drink it.”

She grinned. “That’s right,” she said. “Strong and bitter.”

Cutter opened the screen door again to find the two cur dogs still sleeping just outside. He started to scoot them gently out of the way with the toe of his boot, but Lucy put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Days like this are hard,” she said. “Promise me you’ll be mindful of Lafayette. Not that you ever get used to it, but you’ve seen more than your share of violence. Remember, this is new territory for him.” She stooped down with a breathy groan, kneeling on the throw rug to rub the red dog behind the ears. It whined happily and stretched out to offer its belly.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Cutter said.

The yellow cur moved in, scooching closer to get its rightful share of attention. Lucy rubbed both dogs now, cooing softly, the way she’d cooed to Bodie when he was a baby, the way she cooed to their little grandson, Ethan.

Cutter leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “You beat all, Lucy Jane Cutter. Bone-weary though you are, you still find it in you to adopt two hopeless strays.”

“Three,” Lucy said, smiling up at him.

“Okay.” Cutter laughed. “Three, if you count LJ.”

“Oh, dear heart,” Lucy scoffed. “I meant you.”

Cutter ran Code 3—lights and siren—covering the forty miles from his front gate to the scene north of Wizard Wells. The trip took thirty-four minutes. Sunrise was still hours away, but investigators from Jack and Parker Counties had set up battery powered construction lights to illuminate the scene. Two DPS Highway Patrol troopers and the Jack County Sheriff were on the scene with Johnson. Texas Rangers had been notified and were en route.