Twelve-Gauge Guardian

“Do you know about my brother’s accident?” He saw that she didn’t, probably because Cyrus hadn’t had any identification on him. Which meant either the woman took Cyrus’s wallet—or the van driver had stopped long enough to take it.

“Cyrus was attacked last night behind the Whitehorse Hotel. He’s in a coma at the hospital.”

“I’m so sorry. I’d heard a man had been injured and taken to the hospital but I had no idea it was your brother. The deputy on duty last night talked to the clerk who’d apparently called for an ambulance, but he said the only vehicle in the lot belonged to a woman.”

Cordell nodded, thinking of the woman he’d tangled with earlier at the hotel. “The woman took my brother’s pickup. She told me a crazy story about almost being run down by a person driving a dark-colored van. Her tire was flat on her VW, she said she was scared and saw Cyrus’s keys on the ground and took off.”

“So you talked to her?”

He looked away embarrassed that he’d let her go. “I was about to check her identification when she got away.”

McCall raised an eyebrow at that. “I suppose that explains the blood on your shirt. It’s yours?”

He looked down, not realizing some had dripped onto his sleeve. “She said her name was Raine Chandler, but I really doubt—”

“The VW bug with the flat behind the hotel is registered to a Raine Chandler of Los Angeles, California.”

So she had been telling the truth—at least about that.

“Do you have some reason to doubt her story?” the sheriff asked.

Did he? Just a gut feeling that she was leaving out a whole lot of it. “I’m not sure. But with Cyrus in a coma, she is the only one who knows what really happened last night.”

McCall frowned. “I heard that you and your brother are private investigators, but I hope you’re not planning to take this matter into your own hands again. I’ll put out an APB on her and your brother’s pickup since she apparently didn’t have permission to take his truck and she left the scene of an accident and possible crime last night.”

“When you pick her up, I want to talk to her.”

His cousin seemed to consider that. “I think we can work something out. I take it you haven’t seen Grandmother yet.”

“No.”

“I’ll let her bring you up to speed on everything that’s been going on out there.” His cousin shook her head as if whatever it was wasn’t good.

Cordell rose from the chair, not bothering to tell her he had no intention of seeing Pepper Winchester. He had to find out who had injured his twin. He knew it was his way of dealing with Cyrus’s coma. He told himself that by the time he found the bad guys and at least saw that they were behind bars, Cyrus would be all right again.

“It was nice meeting you.” He reached into his wallet and took out his card. “My cell phone number is on there, but I’ll check back with you.”

RAINE CALLED MARIAS AGAIN. “I need your computer expertise. Can you check on a couple of private investigators out of Denver? The name is Winchester, Cordell and Cyrus Winchester of Winchester Investigations. See what you can find out.”

“Anything special you’re looking for?”

“Why they’re in Whitehorse, Montana, would be helpful.”

“I see. If you want to hang on … Do you happen to have a license plate number?” Marias asked.

“I can do better than that. I have Cyrus’s pickup registration.”

“I don’t want to know, right?”

“Right.” Raine reached over and opened the glove box. “Hold on, he’s about to move again.”

“He?”

“Cordell Winchester.” From down the street, he had just come out of the sheriff’s department. Raine leaned over out of view as she dug through the glove box, found the registration, then peered out cautiously as he climbed into his car.

Where to now? she wondered as she watched him start his car and pull away from the curb.

“What information would you like?” she asked her friend, then read what Marias asked for from the registration form as she waited for two cars to go by, then followed Cordell Winchester.

“Two brothers apparently,” Marias said into the phone. “Same birth dates?”

“Identical twins.”

“Really? Handsome?”

“As sin.”

“This is a professional request, right?”

“Strictly business,” Raine said and winced as she remembered the way her fist had connected with his nose. “No love lost between us.”

“Oh, so that means you’ve ‘met,’” her friend said with a laugh. “I hope it was romantic.”

“If romance is him holding me down in the middle of a queen-size bed.”

“Sounds good to me,” Marias quipped. “Hell, sounds damned good now that I think about it. Hmm, that’s interesting.”

“Are you going to tell me?” Raine asked as she tried to keep Cordell’s rental car in sight.

“I just did a little familial search. Father’s name Brand. Mother a Karla Rose French. Divorced. Grandfather Call Winchester, deceased. Grandmother Pepper Winchester, still living. Got to be a nickname, wouldn’t you think?”

“That’s what you thought was interesting?”

“No, it’s the part where Pepper Winchester’s address is Whitehorse, Montana.”

Cyrus and Cordell Winchester’s grandmother lived here? Pepper Winchester. “Why does that name sound so familiar?” Raine said more to herself than Marias. Up the street, Cordell Winchester made a quick turn at the corner two blocks ahead of her. He’d tagged her. “Gotta go.”

CORDELL COULDN’T BELIEVE it. He’d glanced in his rearview mirror and seen his brother’s pickup a dozen car lengths behind him. The woman was following him?!

He made a quick turn, then another down an alley. Unfortunately, he met a delivery truck coming in and had to back up and take another street.

Around the next corner …

No sign of the pickup.

Cursing under his breath, he searched each side street. She couldn’t have gotten away that quickly. No way.

Then he got lucky. Down a side street he spotted his brother’s truck go past a few blocks away. She was headed out of town!