Chapter 10
Gerard hadn’t pursued sex with Bernie after they’d finished their sandwiches and brushed their teeth. He’d tried to sleep on the couch, but Bernie wouldn’t hear of it, insisting he sleep with her.
Granted, she didn’t have to twist his arm.
He liked how she felt pressed against his side and had to concentrate to keep from getting a boner.
She needed sleep. The stress of the continued attacks and then the altercation with the broker had to be taking its toll on her.
He pulled her close and held her until her breathing became more even and her body relaxed.
Once he was certain she was asleep, Gerard eased out of the bed, gathered his clothes and gun and moved into the living room to dress. He’d retrieved his night vision goggles from the gym bag, looped the strap over his neck and tiptoed to the door, carrying his boots.
He'd just reached for the front doorknob when a floorboard creaked behind him.
Gerard spun.
Bernie entered the living room from her bedroom dressed in the worn T-shirt, the shorts she’d worn to bed and her dingo boots. In her hands was her shotgun.
“You should stay in the house,” he whispered.
“Yeah,” she said. “That’s not going to happen. Over the past two nights, they’ve turned my pigs loose, destroyed my property and poisoned my dog. I really hope they’re back tonight because I’ll be waiting.”
“That was my plan. No need for both of us to lose sleep.”
She snorted and closed the distance between them. “I won’t sleep, knowing they might be back. I want a shot at catching them in the act.”
“Same,” Gerard said. “We need to put an end to this.”
“So, I’m not going back to bed,” she said. “How do you want to play this?”
“We could both hang out on the porch and watch for movement,” Gerard said.
“Pretend I’m one of your Marine teammates. What would you do?”
“I’d have him positioned where he could see the house and barn. Then, I’d go out to the field and lay low in the shadows where I could monitor the back of the barn and the pigpen. Plus, we’d keep in touch via radio headsets. I only have one radio headset.”
“You have a cell phone. I have a cell phone. If something goes south near one, we could call the other,” she offered.
Gerard’s lips pressed together. “I don’t feel right leaving you alone unless you’re locked safely in the house.”
“And I’m not going to stay in the house and do nothing while someone attacks my animals and property." She lifted her chin. “I’m a good shot.”
“I’m sure you are.” Gerard didn’t like her being exposed to the attacker, but he didn’t have a choice. “We can both hang out close to the house and see what happens.”
She shook her head. “Someone needs to stay close to the house and barn, and someone else should be where they can see what’s happening with the pigs. If you want to stay by the house, I’ll guard the pigs.” She reached for the doorknob.
His hand closed over hers. “You’re a stubborn woman,” he said.
She lifted her chin. “I’ve had to be to survive.”
He bent and captured her mouth with his in a quick, hard kiss. “Don’t change a thing. But for tonight, you’ve got the house; I’ll take the field. Deal?”
She nodded. “Deal.”
They slipped out the door. Clinging to the shadows, they moved around to the corner of the house.
Gerard pointed to a large bush.
Bernie slipped into the shadows and hunkered low. From her position, she would be able to see two sides of the house, the front of the barn and the pasture where the llamas, donkey and goats lived.
Gerard slipped through the shadows and along the edge of the watermelon field to a point where he could watch the pigpen and the back of the barn. He could just see the corner of the house where Bernie lay hidden in the bushes.
Now, all they had to do was wait.
An hour passed.
His phone, on silent, vibrated in his front pocket. He leaned over his phone, covering it so that no light would shine out from his position, and read the message.
Anything?
He grinned.
Bernie was someone who liked to get things done. Sitting still for hours on a stakeout had to be driving her nuts.
As he replied, he hoped she was shading the light from her phone.
No.
Another hour passed. Thankfully, a light breeze blew across the field, keeping the humidity at a tolerable level.
He’d been looking at the pigpen when something moved in his peripheral vision.
Turning left toward the barn, he lifted his night vision goggles and spotted the green silhouette of a man near the rear of the barn. He was hunched over, carrying something, shaking it as he worked his way around to the front corner.
A branch snapped in the opposite direction from the barn.
Gerard started to turn his goggles in that direction but stopped when a flame ignited in the hands of the figure by the barn.
He’d lit a match.
As quickly as the flame ignited, the breeze extinguished it. Holy shit. The thing he’d been shaking had been a gas can.
“Fuck!” Gerard dropped the goggles and lunged to his feet.
Footsteps sounded to Gerard’s right as if something, or someone, was moving quickly through the woods. He spun, holding his gun out in front of him. He couldn’t see into the shadows. Whoever was out there was beating a hasty retreat.
He didn’t have time to worry about whoever was moving away. Not when the barn was about to go up in flames. He ran toward the barn but wouldn’t make it there in time to stop the man from setting it aflame.
The arsonist lit another match. Before he could throw it on the gasoline, a shot rang out.
The man staggered backward.
Still running, Gerard held his breath as the match fell from the man’s fingers. The flame disappeared before it hit the ground.
Gerard didn’t slow, running straight for the corner of the house where he’d left Bernie, kicking himself for leaving her alone. What the hell kind of protector was he if he wasn’t protecting his charge?
He was several yards from her position, frantically scanning the shadows for any sign of her. “Bernie,” he called out as he slowed to a stop.
Her head popped out of the shadows. “Gerard, did you get him?”
He stared down at her. “Get him?”
“You fired a shot,” she said.
“No. I didn’t,” he said and dove into the bush beside her. “It wasn’t you?”
She shook her head. “No. I saw movement to the right of the barn, but I didn’t have a clear shot and wasn’t going to shoot in case it was Dom or one of the dark goats. If you didn’t shoot, who did?”
“I don’t know, but whoever did nailed a guy on the far side of the barn before he could burn it down.”
“What?” Bernie started to rise.
“I need you to stay here and dial 911. Get the sheriff and an ambulance,” he said. “I’m going to check it out.”
She grabbed his arm before he could leave the shadows. “Be careful. You still owe me a raincheck for naked cooking.”
“I wouldn’t miss that for anything.” He left the bush and darted across the barnyard and into the shadow of the barn.
Working his way around to the corner, he peeked around the edge.
A man lay on the ground moaning. “Help me.”
Though the guy had almost burned down the barn, Gerard couldn’t let him die. He was the first clue they had as to who was behind the attacks.
He didn’t know if the gunman was still out there, but he had to get to the man and move him to a more protected position.
He flipped the safety on his pistol and tucked it into his waistband. Then, crouching low, he ran around the side of the barn and dropped down beside the wounded arsonist.
“Help me,” he said, reaching out his hand. “I’ve been shot.”
“Where?”
“My leg,” he said. “Get me out of here before he shoots again.”
“Hold onto my hand; I’m going to drag you around and into the barn, where you’ll be safe until help arrives.”
Gerard gripped the man’s wrist and, staying low, dragged him around the side of the barn.
Before he reached the door, it was flung open.
Bernie stood just inside, moving back to allow him to get the man through the door.
“Sheriff’s on the way,” she said.
When he cleared the threshold, she shut the door and turned on the lights. She twisted the lock and turned to the man on the ground.
Her eyes widened. “Billie Joe Weems, what the ever-loving hell?”
Billie Joe closed his eyes. “I needed the money,” he said. “God, my leg hurts.”
Bernie and Gerard bent to examine the wound.
It was bleeding but not profusely.
“Seems to have missed the arteries,” Gerard said. “You’ll probably live.”
Billie Joe moaned. “It hurts.”
“You’re lucky that match blew out,” Gerard said, “or you’d have been lying in the middle of all that gasoline when it burst into flame.”
“I’ll get some towels.” Bernie spun away.
Gerard reached out and grabbed her arm. “Not if it means crossing the barnyard again.”
She shook her head. “I keep clean rags out here in case I need them.” Bernie disappeared into the little office in the corner of the barn and reappeared moments later with several old towels.
Gerard pressed a towel to the wound on the man’s leg, applying enough pressure to slow the bleeding. “So,” he said, “spill it. Who put you up to burning down Ms. Bellamy’s barn?”
“It wasn’t my idea to burn down the barn,” he said, writhing in pain.
“Whose idea was it?” Bernie asked. “You’re already in trouble. You might as well take down whoever put you up to it.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” the young man whined.
“What way was it supposed to be,” Gerard demanded, pushing a little harder.
Billie Joe grimaced. “I was just supposed to let the pigs out to eat the watermelons. That’s all. I wasn’t supposed to burn no barn or get shot.”
“Start from the beginning,” Bernie said.
“He paid me to open the gate of the pigpen. The pigs were supposed to get out and eat the watermelons so Ms. Bellamy couldn’t sell them.”
“Only Penelope was loose, and the gate was closed,” Bernie said.
“I left it open. They didn’t all come running out. I left after the one ran out, figuring the rest would follow.” He grimaced, sweat popping out on his face.
“At what point did you kill my goose?” Bernie demanded.