Page 36 of River Legacy (Powder River #5)

C J needed to wrap things up before he made his plans to leave the country.

As much as he had hated putting the money back into the suitcase, he knew he had to get it into an offshore account or two.

He couldn’t cart that much money around and even leaving it for a little while had him worried someone might take it.

But first he had to settle up with Treyton McKenna. The drive out to Treyton’s place in the badlands made him glad he was leaving. He no longer needed to be in business with Treyton or anyone else. His mother was right. He couldn’t trust anyone.

He tried to assure himself that he was home free, but he was worried about his money back at the hotel.

He needed to get it stowed away somewhere safe, then get out of Montana.

He wasn’t sure where he could go—someplace that he couldn’t be brought back because of the ridiculous probation.

Let them try to bring him back, he thought as he came over the last rise in the road and saw Sheriff Layton’s patrol vehicle.

Acid rushed to his stomach even as he told himself that Treyton was too smart to turn on him.

Yet there he was, standing in the yard with the sheriff as if they were both waiting on him.

Earlier, he’d texted Treyton he was coming out to finish their business.

“What the hell?” he said under his breath.

His first instinct was to turn around and make a run for it. But there wasn’t a place to turn around and they’d already seen him. Running would make him look guilty, and unlike Treyton, he had nothing to be guilty about.

As he continued up the road, he furtively stuffed the stack of hundreds he’d had lying on the seat next to him into his jacket pocket.

If this was a setup, Treyton was a dead man.

Trying to stay calm, he parked and got out.

No reason to worry, he told himself. Just as there was no reason to act surprised to see the two of them together.

“CJ?” the sheriff said. “I had a feeling we’d be seeing you. Treyton kept trying to get me to leave. Glad I didn’t miss you. I had this ridiculous idea that the two of you were in league.”

CJ shot a look at Treyton, but couldn’t read his expression. “We grew up on ranches adjacent to each other. I wouldn’t say we’re in cahoots.”

“Wouldn’t you?” Stuart said. “I thought the two of you hated each other’s guts.”

“There something you want, sheriff?” CJ asked.

He didn’t have time for this. He needed to get back to the hotel.

He was worried someone would steal his money.

He just wanted to finish his business and leave.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your visit with my former neighbor.

I can always visit some other time.” He started to turn back to his rig.

“Actually, I’m glad you’re here, CJ.” The sheriff smiled. “I was here confiscating Treyton’s .22 rifle. You might have heard that Brand Stafford was shot.”

CJ shook his head. “Maybe you heard I’m living in Miles City. I haven’t heard anything.”

“Well, what I heard is that your mother turned her ranch over to you,” the sheriff said, no longer smiling. “Want to explain to me exactly how that happened?”

“Not really. It’s between me and my mother, but I think everyone knows that I was always her favorite.”

The sheriff nodded. “I’d ask what you planned to do with the ranch, but I also heard you’ve already sold it to Wendell Forester.”

“All perfectly legal, Sheriff.”

“Unless I can prove that you coerced your mother into giving you the ranch,” Stuart said.

“That what my mother told you?”

The sheriff laughed. “If she had, you’d be in handcuffs by now.

But it’s only a matter of time before you go to prison.

I really doubt she’ll get you out again, don’t you?

Sorry, I can see that I’m bor ing you. I’ll leave and let you visit with your former neighbor and, as I recall, former nemesis. ”

CJ watched Stuart walk to his SUV and drive away before he turned to Treyton. “Tell me you didn’t shoot someone with your own .22 rifle.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He considered Treyton for a long moment before he pulled the stack of hundreds from his jacket pocket, thumbed through them and put them back in his pocket.

“Guess we’re done here, then.” He started to walk back to his ride, thinking about what his mother had said.

He couldn’t trust anyone, especially Treyton.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Treyton demanded behind him. “You owe me a lot of money.”

CJ turned quickly, closing the space between them. Treyton didn’t have time to react. CJ plowed into him, driving him to the ground and ripping open his shirt. The fall knocked the air out of Treyton’s lungs. He lay on the ground, gasping for air.

“Are you wearing a wire, you bastard?”

“No!” He was sucking in air and trying to fight him off as CJ tore open his jeans, dragging them down to Treyton’s ankles.

He blinked in confusion, his pulse thundering in his ears. The sheriff hadn’t been out here hooking Treyton up to a wire to frame him? Treyton hadn’t been setting him up? It was just his mother putting that crap into his head. Getting to his feet, he stumbled back.

“What in the hell is wrong with you?” Treyton demanded, pulling his pants up. “You think I turned on you?”

It was exactly what he’d been thinking. It was too much of a coincidence that the sheriff had been here. He glanced toward Treyton’s house, little more than a lean-to, yet there were curtains—and they were closed. “Who’s inside that shack of yours?”

“No one. Seriously, are you losing it?” Treyton said as he inspected the damage to his shirt. “You owe me for this shirt. Just pay me, and we’re through.”

“Pay you for what?”

His old adversary gave him an impatient look. “Getting a little paranoid, are you, CJ? Might be your guilt over what you did to your mother. You didn’t fool anyone. Everyone knows what you’re like.”

“You’ve always been jealous of me.” CJ found himself watching the house.

Someone was in there. The sheriff hadn’t come out here alone.

Stuart would have known that CJ would suspect that Treyton was wearing a wire and check.

Treyton resented him, always had. Of course, he would want him gone since he’d taken over the business CJ had started after he’d gone to jail.

He realized he’d been a fool to ever trust him.

“I’m not going to stand out here and argue with you,” said Treyton.

“Pay me what you owe me, and we’re done.

After that, don’t call me ever again to do your dirty work.

You got what you wanted. Now pay me. I know you made a bundle when you sold the ranch to Wendell Forester. If you try to cheat me—”

CJ expected the cops would come busting out of the house any moment after Treyton had laid it all out for them. He hadn’t admitted everything, but there was no doubt Treyton was going to sing.

The curtain moved inside the house. At least he thought it had. “You made a deal with the cops,” he yelled as he pulled his weapon and opened fire.

Treyton had already gone for his own gun as if he’d been ready for this.

CJ got off a shot, but his former business partner got off two, both dead center. He felt them burn through him as he fired again and again, even as Treyton took the bullets, dropping to his knees, his weapon falling from his hand.

He emptied the clip. As everything suddenly went silent, CJ looked toward the house again and saw a cat sitting in the window, batting at the curtain. No one had come out to arrest him because the cops hadn’t been in there.

He frowned as his legs gave out, and he fell over on the ground. Only yards from him, Treyton lay motionless, the ground next to him dark with his blood. He hadn’t betrayed him after all, yet CJ knew he would have eventually. He knew he couldn’t trust anyone. His mother had been right about that.