cars were parked in front of two of the units, it appeared business wasn't exactly booming.
Whatever Max had expected, it wasn't this.
He cut his lights and pulled a little past the turnoff, watching as her Jeep bypassed the flickering neon sign indicating the office and went directly to the last unit at the end of the building. She parked in front, got out, and apparently used a key to let herself into unit number ten.
Max watched a dim light come on inside the room. The curtains were drawn, so it was impossible to see what was going on in there. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, frowning, then swore under his breath and turned his own truck back toward the motel.
He parked off to the side and crept toward the unit on foot, being very careful not to give away his approach with the slightest sound.
Not careful enough.
He heard a click he recognized and froze even before he felt the cold steel of a gun barrel against his neck.
"See, what I don't get is why you'd want to spend most of a day and night following me all over the place." Nell moved around where he could see her but kept the gun pointed at him. It was a big gun; and she held it with expert ease.
All he could think to say was, "How'd you get out here? I've been watching the door."
"Window in back." Nell took another step, then gestured with the gun toward the unit's door. "Shall we?"
Max went ahead of her, half afraid of what might await them in the room. What met his searching gaze inside was merely a cheap motel room, the one bed sagging in the middle beside a scarred nightstand, small TV bolted to the shabby dresser on the other side of the room, and the open bathroom door showing him that the tiny room was bare of any threat.
Nell shut the door behind them, then went to lean against the dresser. She still held the gun, though no longer pointed it at him. "Let's hear it, Max. Why've you been following me around all day today?"
"You going to explain that gun?"
She shrugged, smiling just a little. "A woman alone has to be careful. Your turn."
"Maybe I don't have anything better to do than follow you around."
"I remember enough about ranching to know that's a lie. You've got more than enough to do. Try again, Max."
He really didn't want to confess the truth, but something about her eyes and that little smile she wore warned him to take both her and that gun she was holding with such seeming negligence very seriously. "I was worried," he said finally. "I thought somebody should keep an eye on you."
"Why?"
"People are dying, remember?"
"Not good enough. Men are dying, four in eight months. And even if women became targets, what makes you so sure I'd be one of them? I've been gone for twelve years, only back here a few days, and only to take care of a little business before leaving again. I'm just passing through. So why would anyone want to kill me?"
"You said yourself someone had questioned your fitness to inherit the estate."
"Yeah, but nobody's challenged me legally, and the will's through probate. I inherit. And I have a will, which now takes precedence. So if anybody's after any of the property, killing me won't get it for them."
"The killer doesn't necessarily know that," Max pointed out.
"I'd think he'd make sure before getting rid of me. And since I told Wade Keever about my will today, I imagine most of Silence will know by, say, tomorrow afternoon. Sooner, if somebody buys him drinks tonight."
She paused a moment, her green eyes steady on his face, then said, "Besides, this killer doesn't seem to be acting for personal gain. No, whatever your reasons for following me around, they don't include concern about the disposition of my father's estate. So I'd like to know what those reasons are, Max. And the truth would be nice."
"I told you the truth. I was worried about you."
"Then tell me why."
He hesitated, then drew in a breath and let it out roughly. "Because you're a threat to the killer, Nell. And I'm not sure how
Whatever Max had expected, it wasn't this.
He cut his lights and pulled a little past the turnoff, watching as her Jeep bypassed the flickering neon sign indicating the office and went directly to the last unit at the end of the building. She parked in front, got out, and apparently used a key to let herself into unit number ten.
Max watched a dim light come on inside the room. The curtains were drawn, so it was impossible to see what was going on in there. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, frowning, then swore under his breath and turned his own truck back toward the motel.
He parked off to the side and crept toward the unit on foot, being very careful not to give away his approach with the slightest sound.
Not careful enough.
He heard a click he recognized and froze even before he felt the cold steel of a gun barrel against his neck.
"See, what I don't get is why you'd want to spend most of a day and night following me all over the place." Nell moved around where he could see her but kept the gun pointed at him. It was a big gun; and she held it with expert ease.
All he could think to say was, "How'd you get out here? I've been watching the door."
"Window in back." Nell took another step, then gestured with the gun toward the unit's door. "Shall we?"
Max went ahead of her, half afraid of what might await them in the room. What met his searching gaze inside was merely a cheap motel room, the one bed sagging in the middle beside a scarred nightstand, small TV bolted to the shabby dresser on the other side of the room, and the open bathroom door showing him that the tiny room was bare of any threat.
Nell shut the door behind them, then went to lean against the dresser. She still held the gun, though no longer pointed it at him. "Let's hear it, Max. Why've you been following me around all day today?"
"You going to explain that gun?"
She shrugged, smiling just a little. "A woman alone has to be careful. Your turn."
"Maybe I don't have anything better to do than follow you around."
"I remember enough about ranching to know that's a lie. You've got more than enough to do. Try again, Max."
He really didn't want to confess the truth, but something about her eyes and that little smile she wore warned him to take both her and that gun she was holding with such seeming negligence very seriously. "I was worried," he said finally. "I thought somebody should keep an eye on you."
"Why?"
"People are dying, remember?"
"Not good enough. Men are dying, four in eight months. And even if women became targets, what makes you so sure I'd be one of them? I've been gone for twelve years, only back here a few days, and only to take care of a little business before leaving again. I'm just passing through. So why would anyone want to kill me?"
"You said yourself someone had questioned your fitness to inherit the estate."
"Yeah, but nobody's challenged me legally, and the will's through probate. I inherit. And I have a will, which now takes precedence. So if anybody's after any of the property, killing me won't get it for them."
"The killer doesn't necessarily know that," Max pointed out.
"I'd think he'd make sure before getting rid of me. And since I told Wade Keever about my will today, I imagine most of Silence will know by, say, tomorrow afternoon. Sooner, if somebody buys him drinks tonight."
She paused a moment, her green eyes steady on his face, then said, "Besides, this killer doesn't seem to be acting for personal gain. No, whatever your reasons for following me around, they don't include concern about the disposition of my father's estate. So I'd like to know what those reasons are, Max. And the truth would be nice."
"I told you the truth. I was worried about you."
"Then tell me why."
He hesitated, then drew in a breath and let it out roughly. "Because you're a threat to the killer, Nell. And I'm not sure how
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