Page 55 of The Last Mile


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The thought was a knife in his gut.

“Put down your weapons!” the third man repeated. “Come out and walk toward me very slowly.”

Seconds passed.

“Been a while, Ray,” Kyle called into the lengthening silence. “I figured it was you and some of your good-for-nothing scumball cronies. I know you’ve done some shit, but I didn’t think you were a killer.”

“We just want the gold!” Ray Peters called back. “Hand it over and you can leave!”

Abby struggled against the sinewy arm pinning her in place. “There wasn’t any gold,” she said calmly, though Gage picked up the faint tremor in her voice. “The box was empty.”

“Bullshit.” But Peters’s expression changed from confident to uneasy. He moved the gun from Abby’s head and pressed it into her ribs. “We all saw you digging. Now you’re packing to leave.”

“The box we found was empty,” Abby repeated. “Take a look. You can see for yourself.” She pointed toward the ammunition box in front of the crumbling stone wall.

Peters started dragging Abby in that direction, and her gaze flew up the mountain as if she knew exactly where Gage stood in the shadows. As Ray leaned down to remove the lid, Abby sank her teeth into his arm. Peters screamed, jerked, and Abby tore free, using her elbow to knock his gun arm up and sending his pistol flying into the air.

Gage fired, aiming for Peters’s shoulder instead of his head, now that he was unarmed, spinning him into the dirt. As Kyle moved toward Ray, Gage swung the rifle toward the two men below him, levering in a round and firing into the ground right in front of them.

“Don’t move a muscle! Stay right where you are!”

Kyle held Ray at gunpoint, while Gage descended through the rocks toward the men. Just as he reached them, the bald guy jerked up his rifle and swung the barrel toward Gage. Mateo’s knife glinted as he appeared like a specter and pressed the blade against the side of the man’s thick neck.

“I would not do that if I were you,” Mateo said.

“Toss your weapons.” Gage strode toward them. “Do it now!”

The bald guy with the big arms tossed his rifle, and the greedy, stupid city boy tossed his pistol, both weapons landing with a clatter in the rocks a few yards away.

“On your feet!”

As the two men rose from their positions, Mateo slid his knife back into the sheath at his waist and dropped back into a position behind them.

Gage marched them down a game trail leading back to camp, flicking a sideways glance at Peters, who sat cross-legged in the dirt, blood seeping through the fingers gripping his wounded shoulder.

Glock pointed at Peters’s head, Kyle grinned. “Nice shot, Gage.”

“You got him talking, and Abby disarmed him. Good job all around.”

* * *

Hoping Gage wouldn’t notice she was trembling, Abby helped Kyle secure the three men, binding their wrists behind their backs with a piece of rope and tying their ankles. She helped Kyle bandage Peters’s wound, but it continued to seep a thin line of blood.

While they worked, Gage walked over to his sat phone to call 911. Abby figured dispatch would be informing the local sheriff’s office as well as the Tonto National Forest Ranger District Office. The use of motorized vehicles in a designated wilderness was forbidden, but the violent assault that had resulted in a man being shot changed the equation.

“Help’s on the way,” Gage said. “Shouldn’t take them long to get here.” Heading straight for the younger man, he searched the guy’s pockets and pulled out his wallet, read his driver’s license. “Sean Younger. Address in Denver.” Gage nudged the guy’s leg with his boot. “You working for Jude Farrell?”

Abby’s chest tightened, though she was fairly sure it was true. When Sean made no reply, Gage reached down and cuffed the back of his dark blond head.

“I asked you a question.”

Abby stared into his face, which was sunburned and beginning to peel. “I know my cousin is involved in this. You might as well admit it.”

“Good idea,” Gage agreed. “Unless you plan to go to jail with these two and let your buddy Jude off the hook.”

Sean looked horrified, his pale eyebrows climbing to the top of his sunburned forehead. “Wait a minute! I didn’t do anything. We were just supposed to follow you, see if there was really any gold. If it was real, Jude figured he’d contest the will and get the money. It was Ray’s idea to use Abby to get the treasure.”

“What about your dead friend, Boyd McGrath?” Gage asked. “I guess you don’t consider that a problem.”