“Yes, ma’am.” He kissed her once, soft and quick. “I’ll do my best.”
Tuesday morning, Hud pulled up to the Whittingham property with Beau beside him. The place looked the same as before. Quiet, well kept, nothing that would draw a second look.
He and Beau stepped out and walked to the door. Hud knocked.
Carla Whittingham opened it. She went pale when she saw him.
“Mrs. Whittingham. Is your husband home?”
“He’s not here.”
“His truck’s in the driveway.”
She glanced toward it. “He just left. Must have taken someone else’s vehicle.”
“He must have taken someone else’s vehicle?” Beau said, then looked at Hud, who shrugged.
“I’m going to need you to step outside, ma’am.” Hud motioned for her to come out onto the porch.
“I don’t understand what—”
“I think you do.” He held her gaze until she looked away.
She stepped out and Beau moved beside her without a word.
Hud turned back to the house and listened. Movement. Back of the house.
He was already moving.
“Stay with her, Beau. I’ll check it out.”
“Yell if you need me.”
Hud moved through quickly, clearing each room as he went. Kitchen empty, hallway clear. Footsteps above him. He took the stairs two at a time.
A door slammed at the end of the hall.
He tried the handle. Locked. He stepped back, kicked it and the frame splintered and gave way.
Whittingham was at the window, one leg already over the sill.
“Don’t.” Hud’s weapon came up. “Don’t do it.”
Whittingham froze.
“Step back from the window. Hands where I can see them.”
The man pulled his leg back inside and turned around slowly, face red, breath coming fast.
“Agent Anderson.” He tried for a smile that didn’t land. “I can explain—”
“I’m sure you can.” Hud crossed the room and turned him toward the wall. “But I’m not interested right now.” He pulled Whittingham’s hands behind his back and snapped the cuffs on. “Bart Whittingham, you’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit livestock theft, insurance fraud and accessory to the assault of a law enforcement officer.”
He walked him back down the stairs and out the front door.
Carla Whittingham was sitting on the porch stepswith Beau standing beside her. She looked up when her husband came through the door in cuffs and pressed her lips together.
“You said they’d never find out,” she said quietly.
