Chapter 71
JAKE
Mason and I park up on a ridge line above Turner’s house, out of sight, and quickly move to take position behind a cluster of trees.
Perfect sight line into Turner’s compound.
Mason crouches next to me, setting up his rifle and adjusting the focus on the glass. I take out the Razor, calibrating the glass until I can see the dirty spoon by the sink in Turner’s kitchen.
It’s not late, but it’s already dark. I texted Emma to let her know I'd be late for dinner, but I haven’t heard from her. When I left, she was working, so I figure she’s still caught up and lost track of time. She does that. Luke is at the ranch, so if she needs something, he’s there.
I focus on the objective: gathering intel on Turner’s operation.
His place sits too still for a man with nothing to hide—lights low, little activity. Turner sits in his living room in front of the fire, reading what appears to be contracts.
“There,” Mason murmurs, nodding to the left.
A truck rolls in the opposite direction from the house and barns, headlights off. We track it deep into Turner territory before losing sight.
“Headed toward Emma’s property line,” Mason says under his breath.
“Fuck,” I say just as quietly.
Mason nods in agreement.
I lower the Razor. “I’ll follow it. You keep eyes on Turner.”
“Keep comms open,” he says without deviating from his target.
Putting my hand on his shoulder to confirm, I hurry to the vehicle to follow the truck.