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Gloria began to sob. “I never meant for any of this to happen. Duke, you have to believe me.”
“Christ,” Duke muttered. He looked at the DA. “Do we have to be here for this? ‘Cause we run a ranch, and we don’t have time to fly into Dallas for this shit.”
“I am sorry, Mr. Wilder. Mr. Tinder here assured us that his client would behave.”
The way she spoke made me think that Gloria had been pulling the woe-is-me routine throughout the investigation. She had been arrested, but she’d managed to geta judge who had bought her sob story to give her bail with an ankle monitor.
“So, can we go now?” Duke got up.
Gloria moved so fast that her chair fell down. “Duke, baby, please.”
“What do you want me to do, Gloria?” Duke asked, exasperated, flinging his hands up. “I can’t help you. You tried to kill me, and Elena got shot. You paid someone money that my father gave to you to hire a freaking hitman who has confessed. Your only chance is to tell these people how Piper Novak is involved, and maybe you’ll catch a break. But that’s it. I cannot help you. No one can when you go around hiring fucking assassins, you crazy bitch.”
Gloria looked like Duke hit her. The DA looked like she was about to bust out with laughter. Rusty looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him. Mac and I remained impassive, though it took some effort. It just seemed vulgar to laugh, though I wanted to.
Gloria’s gaze flicked to me, sharp and assessing. “Is this because ofher? You’re just like your father, you see some nasty cunt, and you follow it around.”
“Way to keep it classy, Gloria,” I stated, shaking my head.
Duke may have thought this was a waste of our time, but I was entertained as hell.
"Unless Mrs. Wilder has something of actual substance to say, I’d say this meeting is over." Mac sighed as he stood, and we followed suit, taking his lead.
The DA muttered, “I agree.”
Gloria’s expression crumbled into something ugly and desperate. “Duke, please! You can’t turn your back on me!”
He looked down at the woman who had spent three decades controlling his life like a damn puppeteer. “I turned my back on you months ago.”
That seemed to be the trigger, and finally, Gloriatalkedand made a deal. It looked like this time Piper would be going down, which was a damn relief. That was the good news. The bad news was that they’d offered Gloria a deal.
“She’ll serve time,” Mac assured Duke as we waited at a bar at the airport for our flight back to Aspen.
“How much?”
“She’ll be eligible for parole in seven years; considering how good she’s at playin’ people, I’d say she’ll be out in three and a half at most,” Mac surmised.
We got back home late, but we were both too restive to go to bed, so we went for a walk.
Summer had settled over Colorado, wrapping the land in a warmth that smelled like sunbaked earth and sweet hay. The stars sprawled across the sky in a way you never saw in a city, and the air was pleasant with the scent of wildflowers.
Duke had been quiet since we boarded the plane.Not brooding—just settling, like a storm that had finally blown through, leaving behind the eerie stillness that comes after something shatters.
I let him be, knowing he’d speak when he was ready.
We walked past the paddocks, past the stables that were almost built, past the scars the fire had left behind.
The ranch had survived. We had survived.
Finally, he breathed out. “Three and a half years.”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“She’s gonna walk out of there and expect me to be waiting.”
“Doesn’t matter what she expects. You won’t be waiting.”
“No,” he agreed. “I won’t.”