Authors: Mya Barrett
Tags: #Contemporary, #Family Life/Oriented, #small town
Maggie's Mountain (28 page)
She only had one real chance, and as crazy as the plan sounded in her head, she knew she didn’t have any choice but to try. Picturing what she would do, Maggie pulled Chris’s box from the office closet. She let it settle in front of Brian.
He motioned to it with his gun. “Go on.”
“I can’t kneel down; you’ll have to put it on the desk.”
He studied her for a moment, took in her bandaged arm and the cast on her leg. Finally, he leaned down, his gun still trained on her, and lifted the box with a single hand. She tried not to hesitate as she moved to the box, keeping a careful eye on Brian as she buried her hands deep into the tall box. She dug through the items inside, making sure her hands were hidden from his sight. She finally found the shoebox she’d been looking for, the one which held the letters between her mother and Royce. She felt underneath it and found exactly what she’d been praying was there.
She kept her unbound hand casually draped on the top of the larger box opening as she handed Brian the shoebox. “It’s in here.”
He made a grab for the box, the gun in his hand giving a slight bobble. He swore before dropping the box onto the desk chair. She waited, watching as he tossed the lid aside and began digging. She was still biding her time when a loud bark echoed through the clearing outside.
Brian paused and looked up, staring at the window behind her. “What was that?”
“Mac,” Maggie whispered, her heart thundering.
“What?” Brian swung a confused gaze back to her.
“Mac.” Her voice was stronger this time. “He wanders through the woods all the time.”
“He’d come all the way here from the farm?”
“This is home,” she said shakily.
Brian wiped his face with a trembling forearm. “Is he alone?”
“I—I don’t know.” She swallowed against her dry throat and waited.
“Hell,” he muttered.
He stood and hurried to the window beside her, more concerned with what was happening outside than with Maggie. It was a split second of distraction, but it was enough.
She grabbed Chris’s police baton from the box and swung in one fluid motion. She hit Brian as heavily as her arm allowed, cracking the hard cylinder over his head. She didn’t wait to see how long he would stay stunned.
Spinning, Maggie raced for the door as fast as her casted leg would allow her to go, sliding across the newly polished floor with fevered speed, still holding the black baton like a lifeline. She had to make her way into open territory. She thought Brian might have left his keys in the truck, and she could only hope there would be enough time for her to find out. She wrapped her hand around the doorknob, swung it open—and nearly toppled into Trent’s arms. Hale stood behind him, a look of deadly intent etched on his face.
“Maggie!” An agonized roar sounded behind her.
The two brothers didn’t exchange a word. Trent dropped, bringing Maggie down with him to the porch. Above them there was a loud rapport, sharp and heavy, then softer as the echo died in the clearing. Several seconds of shocked silence reigned before reality set in.
“Hale!” Maggie pushed away from Trent and scrambled to stand. “Hale, are you—?”
“I’m okay, sweetheart. We’re okay.” He pulled her into his chest with one strong arm, holding her so tightly her still tender ribs vibrated with dull pain. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, I’m all right.” She didn’t realize she was crying until she felt the damp material of his red shirt pressed against her cheek. “He shot Chris. He killed him.”
“I’m so sorry.” He gently pushed her back so he could study her face. “The bastard hit you.”
She saw Trent hurrying back outside from the cabin with Brian’s gun wrapped in his shirt tail. It was only when she saw the shotgun in Hale’s other hand that she realized precisely what he’d done.
“You shot him?”
He stared at her, holding her gaze with his steady one. “Yes, I did.”
She blinked against her tears, swallowed the knot in her throat, then leaned her head against his chest again. “He was crazed, looking for Chris’s book. He said there were other people, people he owed. He was afraid of them. And Brylon, the company that’s been after my land. There’s silver and zinc and lead. They’ve been using him.”
“I know, sweetheart, I know.”
“It’s going to be a mess.”
“Yes, it will.”
Sirens sounded in the distance, and Maggie had the odd thought that the authorities had spent entirely too much time at her place.
Trent’s voice came from beside them. “You were right; we beat the cops. I can’t believe I made that U-turn and followed you.”
“I can’t believe your car kept up.” Hale’s teasing was good natured, but she could still hear the tension playing underneath and feel the taut set of his muscles.
“I’m going to have to talk to them, aren’t I?” she asked.
His grip tightened around her again. “I’ll be with you. We’ll get through it, I promise.”
She nodded, knowing with him beside her she would find the strength to do what needed to be done. “The book—”
“Is in my car, along with the geological survey of your land. I’ll give it to the Chief of Police and nobody else. I recognized too many senators, judges, and lawyers’ initials and addresses to trust anyone else. His is one of the only ones not on there.”
She gave a watery hiccup at his arrogant statement. “That infamous Warrick pull again.”
“Whatever it takes to keep you safe, Maggie, that’s what I’ll do.”
The police cars and ambulance bounced into the yard, obliterating any intimate conversation they might have had. People began to pour in around them, two of them carefully taking first the shotgun from Hale then the handgun from Trent. The rest moved into the cabin, weapons drawn, to surround Brian, followed closely by the ambulance crew.
“It’s over now,” Hale promised her. “We can move on.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
It had been an exhausting few months. There had been so many questions, the same ones asked over and over again by so many different people that they all began to blend together. Hale, true to his word, had refused to make a statement to anyone but the Chief of Police. Once Hale had handed over the book and survey, all hell had broken loose. That was the only way she could think to describe it.
Television stations had trumpeted the news of corruption, greased palms, thrown trials, and falsified evidence. No one was safe, from the highest rank to the lowest; the governor himself had called for a complete investigation and overhaul of the system. Chief Callaghan, newly appointed just the year before, had been spared, mainly because he had been fighting the very corruption Chris had been documenting.
Brylon Enterprises had tried to keep from crumbling, but with the release of the information came dozens of whistleblowers, people who had found courage now that the truth was coming out. The government was investigating, threatening long prison sentences and the draining of every asset the conglomerate held. Other companies were swooping in to take over the smaller businesses that Brylon had swallowed, picking the flesh off the corpse of the larger corporation.
Staying away from celebrity status had been difficult, but so far she and Hale had managed to keep a low profile. They would have to testify at Brian’s trial but until then they were able to have what was a happily normal life. She had her cast taken off; Hale was learning to garden. They had date nights, even couple dates with Ben and Jolene. Hale was teaching her to ride, and she was teaching him to can. He made sure she was there for her once a week breakfast with Mr. Mackey. It was everything she’d ever wanted, but everything she’d never been brave enough to hope for.
“Coffee…I need coffee…”
Maggie laughed and shook her head as she handed Hale a blue mug full of the hot blend he liked best. He took a sip, smiled in delight, and gave her an outrageous kiss.
“Have I told you I love you?”
She set the eggs she’d been mixing aside and turned in his arms. “Only once this morning.”
“I’m falling behind.” He tucked her into his body and whispered in her ear. “I love you, Maggie.”
“I love you, Hale.”
She was just enjoying the kisses he was raining on her throat when an obnoxious knock interrupted. She heard him growl in frustration and did her best not to chuckle.
“They’ll go away,” he said, and went back to sampling her skin.
The knock came again and he let out an exasperated growl. “It’s too early for UPS, Jolene is at her house busy having morning sickness, and my mother wouldn’t set foot outside her house until ten a.m. That could only mean Trent has decided he wants his pretty face messed up.”
“Is this what it’s like to have a sibling?” she asked as she made her way to the door.
“It is when it’s boys.” He went back to drinking his coffee, though his expression promised he wouldn’t forget where he’d left off.
Maggie swung the door open and found Trent standing there, a grin on his face that said he knew he’d thwarted his brother.
“Good morning, gorgeous.” He grabbed her, spun her in a circle and danced back into the living room.
“Hands off my woman,” Hale warned.
Maggie gave Trent’s cheek a sisterly pat. “You come on in, sweetie, and I’ll make you an omelet.”
“At least one of you appreciates me.” He sent his brother a devilish grin and hurried to sit at the counter.
“But Hale gets his first.”
Hale gave Trent a smug look. “Get your own wife, little brother.”
“You two make marriage look so good, I just might,” he threatened. “Of course, I guess we can’t call you married until next month.”
“What brings you over so early?” Maggie asked as she poured eggs into a sizzling skillet.
“Mom wants to remind you about Sunday lunch. I think I should warn you, she might try to talk you into a large reception at the house since you’re having a small ceremony out here.”
And she just might let her, Maggie thought. She had learned that bending to some of Cordelia’s desires made it that much easier for her almost mother-in-law to bend, as well. They weren’t quite to the point of meeting halfway, but they were getting there.
“Give her another month and she’ll start snooping about grandkids.”
Hale choked on his coffee and Maggie jerked in reaction.
“Uh, it’s a little early yet,” she hedged. “We haven’t walked down the proverbial aisle.”
Trent looked much too pleased by his announcement. “I agree, but you know Mother.”
Hale rolled his eyes. “Yes, I do.”
“Uncle Trent, I like the sound of that.”
Maggie chuckled as she slid Hale’s omelet onto a plate. “Okay, that’s enough. Don’t give Hale indigestion.”
She was about to turn around when Hale wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t know, I might not get indigestion at the thought.”
She raised her eyes to his and saw the promise there. The promise of their family, of their life together. If her mother had been pleased to see Maggie content, then she knew Rebecca was smiling down right now, overjoyed to see her utter happiness.
Trent cleared his throat and stood, taking Hale’s plate with him. “I think I’ll just eat this on the way to the farm.”
Neither of them moved as Trent meandered back out, closing the door with a solid
thunk
. It was long, breathless moments before Maggie spoke.
“At least two?” she asked, remembering his statement from weeks before.
“At least. So maybe we ought to practice.” His expression was serious, but his gaze was dancing with mischief.
“They do say practice makes perfect,” she replied.
He twitched his eyebrow, held her stare as he reached over to switch off the stove top. Then he bent down, lifted her onto his shoulder, fireman’s style, and ran to the stairs, her laughter chasing them all the way.
A word about the author…
Mya Barrett is a slightly frazzled wife and mom, perfectly disguised as a responsible adult, with too much imagination and too little time.
For more information go to:
www.myabarrett.com
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