We finally took him down in Hawaii after his goons nearly killed the entire Bash family. My only regret was not feeding him to Millie and Dave, the family alligators.
“Why do you know that name?”
I let my non-answer speak for itself.
“I’m assuming this conversation never happened,” he says, sounding resigned.
I know that I’ve just put a big pile of shit in his lap, but he knows that lives are at stake. “What conversation?”
“Hm,” he says, ending the call.
Staring at my phone still doesn’t give me any answers, so I make my way to leave, hoping that I did the right thing.
7
Odd
Anders, Thane, Rafi, and Abigail pick me up in Wimberley, and we head out west toward I-10 to go kill a child predator.
I talk through the logistics on the way over. “Once we get the ranch secured, the Goodnights have agreed to take whatever horses are stranded out there.”
“What’d you tell him?” Thane asks, scanning the road.
“Told him an old couple died within days of each other and they still had several well cared for horses.”
Rafi perks up. “Cool. Think they’ll give us some horse riding lessons in exchange? I think it’d be kinda fun.”
“Yes, but I’m pretty sure they’d do that anyway.”
Abigail hums to herself. “I used to do dressage when I was a kid. Wanted to do barrel races and be in the rodeo, but my mom said that it wasn’t proper for a lady.”
“You grow up rich too?” Thane asks, glancing at her in the passenger seat.
“Yep. I was lucky, but it was also limiting.”
“What do they think you do now?”
“Web design.”
“Have you actually designed websites?” Anders asks, looking doubtful.
Abigail smirks, shaking her head. “Abso-fucking-lutely not. I don’t have a talent for design at all. They keep trying to send work my way from their friends, and I always farm it out to other people and then pay them for it. It’s embarrassing.”
My ears perk up. “The guy who owns the ranch next to our parents, Goodnight? He does web design.”
She looks at me in the rearview mirror, puzzled. “Really? Why web design?”
“I don’t know that I’m supposed to know this, but I overheard him talking to the foreman. He makes more with the web design than he ever did with the horses, but he and his wife had a dream for what they would do with the ranch, and he’s not willing to give up on it. But I’ve seen his work. It’s very clean.”
“If you think he’d be amenable, I would be happy to funnel any and all web design requests his way.”
I like my parents’ neighbors, and I’m happy to help where I can. “I can certainly ask.”
“I think that’s a great idea,” my brother says, scratching his chin. “I wonder if Samuel would have any thoughts about those designs from a marketing perspective.”
Just as we finish getting the details worked out, we arrive at Rancho Horrible, which is what we’re calling this awful place. You’d think that getting busted for doing the kinds of things they do to kids would mean losing your homestead, but crimes against women and children are rarely prosecuted to the extent necessary to remove these bottom feeders from circulation.
We’re all dressed to the nines and our first stop is the automatic gate. We’re greeted by an intercom and a camera, to which we hold up our fake IDs.
