She looked around. She understood the halter and lead. She’d helped Len yesterday, after they’d led the horses away from the fire. He’d shown her how to halter them properly, and she’d helped tie their leads off, then gotten them water. She was touched to see the way Len cared about the horses. He’d been devastated by what had happened to the horse who’d come running out of the barn—Comet. After the blaze was out, he’d knelt on the ground in his gear, next to the smoldering body, and when he stood and came toward her, she could see he’d been crying. She hugged him. She hadn’t thought about it; she just did it. And he’d cried hard. This beefy biker with tattoos from his fingers all the way up to his jaw. Lilli, herself broken up about what she’d had to do, had been deeply moved by the tenderness of his grief.
She gave Gertie a pat and went to check out the other two—both black, one bigger, with a white stripe down his nose—Flash—the other entirely dark—Ebony. They were both friendly, if a little more energetic than her Gert. She laughed to herself when she realized that she’d just thought of the spotted grey mare as hers. She should be careful about that. The horses did not belong to them.
Lilli explored the barn and the enclosures beyond it, trying to decide whether she should let the horses out. The barn was empty of anything they hadn’t brought in from Len’s trailer. There were shelves and racks that looked purposeful, but had nothing stored on or in them. Once she did a lap around the paddock and ascertained that the fence was solid and the gates closed, she went in, picked up Gert’s halter, and strapped it on.
As she was opening Gert’s stall, Isaac spoke up behind her. “She should go out last, Sport.”
Lilli turned. He looked better. He was leaning on the side of the open barn door, in his customary jeans, boots, black button shirt, and leather jacket. No kutte; he didn’t wear it at home. His hair was braided. It looked wet—he must have jumped in the shower.
“What?”
“Flash and Ebbie are young. They get antsy, don’t like to get left behind. You put Gertie out first, they’ll think they’re missing out, and they’ll be harder to control. Gert’s a patient old lady. She’ll sit and wait her turn.” He walked to her and kissed her cheek. “Morning.”
“Morning. Do they need to be on the leads?”
“You want to be in control of a horse when you’re in a tight space like this, so yeah. But take the halter off, not just the lead, when you release them. Want help?” He nodded toward Flash.
“Nope. I got it.” She went over and haltered Flash. Isaac walked out into the corral and climbed the fence. As Lilli led Flash out, she saw that he was filling a big water tank just inside the corral. She released Flash, and he tore off, bucking as he did a circuit around the enclosure.
When all three horses were out, the youngsters racing around, Gertie wandering off to eat grass, Isaac and Lilli sat on the fence and watched.
“You okay this morning, love?” Lilli studied Isaac’s profile as he watched the horses.
“Better. Not okay. I need to call Liza, and then I gotta get to town.” He turned to her. “I’d like you to come. Breakfast—well, lunch, I guess—at Marie’s, give everybody time to talk to me about what happened. Then the clubhouse, so we can figure out our move.”
“Yeah. Okay, of course.” She put her hand on his where it gripped the fence rail. “I’m with you, Isaac. You’re not on your own. I love you.”
Still looking out over the paddock, he hooked his fingers with hers.
CHAPTER NINE
Isaac didn’t know how he was going to make this call. He knew Liza had already been officially informed; Tyler called to let him know they’d reached her early in the morning. That didn’t make what he had to do any easier, though—in fact, it might make it harder. She would blame him, she
should
blame him, and he would be calling in the midst of her first fury.
But he couldn’t put it off. He had to do it right. He owed it to Will, and to the family he’d left behind, to do it right.
He sat at the dining room table and stared at his phone. He didn’t know why he’d come into this room. He rarely came into this room. It had been the living room when he’d been growing up and for all the generations before that, as far as he knew, but he’d switched the living and dining rooms when he took the house over. He’d had no need for a big dining space, and it was just more convenient for the living room, where the TV was, to be next to the kitchen, where the beer was. Plus, the fireplace was in there, and he liked that better in the living room than the dining room.
The furniture in this room was heavy, ornate, and very antique. The sideboard had actually come over with his immigrant ancestors, and it was carved and turned, stained so dark it was all but black. The table and chairs, chunky and rough-hewn, were handmade and stained to match by a grandfather a few times removed. He’d been surprised when Lilli told him she didn’t want to replace these pieces, but he’d been glad for it. He wasn’t entirely sure why; it was ponderous furniture. But he felt like it would be some kind of sacrilege to remove a piece that had stood under this roof for as long as that roof had been standing.
Lilli came in from the kitchen and leaned on the newel post of the staircase that bisected the house. “Can I do anything, love?”
What could she do? She had never even met Liza. But he loved her for asking, nonetheless. “No. I got it. We need to get moving when I’m done, though. You gonna be ready?”
She walked in and kissed his cheek, her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll jump in for a super-quick shower and be ready in ten. That good?”
“Perfect. Thanks, Sport.” It would help to have some privacy for this. When Lilli headed down the hall toward the bathroom, Isaac took a deep breath and dialed Liza’s cell.
She answered on the second ring, and she jumped right in. “What is it that you could possibly want now, Isaac?” Her voice was thick and raw. He tried to imagine what her morning had been like, and he found that he could—some semblance of it, at least. He’d imagined losing Lilli often enough.
“I’m so sorry. God, I’m sorry, Lize.”
“Are you? Are you really? What is it you’re sorry for, exactly? Leaning on Will not to sell? Using your friendship to guilt him into doing what was right for you instead of what was right for us? Making him think you’d have his back? Where were you, I wonder, when he was dying and our life was burned down? At his back?”
No. He’d been in Springfield with Lilli, picking out curtains. He couldn’t tell her that. “Liza, you know how much I love Will. And you know how much Will loves that place. I…I’m just sorry. I want to know how I can help you.”
On the other side of the call, wherever Liza was in Florida, whatever she was doing, she was laughing, a bitter, angry shatter of sound. “You’re gonna be sorry, yeah. Got a call from Mac Evans, not five minutes after I got off the phone with the Sheriff. That interested party who’s been trying to get the place? Made a new offer. Upped it a hundred grand. Guess that’s what Will was worth. Blood money. I’m taking it.”
“Jesus, Liza, no. Let me try—”
She cut him off. “Try what? To get the rest of us killed? I’m not fighting that shit. Nothing for us there now. I’m having Will shipped down here, and Signal Bend can kiss my ass. And as for how you can help me, well, that’s easy. You can die in a fire.”
The line went dead.
Isaac dropped the phone and laid his head on the table. For long moments, he didn’t even think; his head was white noise. When thoughts returned, they were bleak. So much of what she’d said was right. It
was
his fault. Fighting Ellis had put Will in danger. Continuing to fight him would put his family in danger.
But selling now? If she sold now, Will’s death was for nothing.
Nothing
. And Signal Bend was lost.
Signal Bend was lost.
He was still sitting with his head on the table when Lilli came back from her shower. “Isaac? What’s wrong?” He opened his eyes to see her squatting at his side, her damp hair pulled back into a ponytail. He felt the light, loving weight of her hand on his back. Jesus, she was beautiful. And she was with him. He sat up and pulled himself together.
“Ellis upped the offer. Liza’s selling. We gotta go.”
~oOo~
The lot at Marie’s was packed, as Isaac had known it would be. Most of the townspeople were there, as were Len and Show. Isaac and Lilli were late, but he knew no one would leave until he’d gotten there. It was the way of things here. When big shit went down, people met at Marie’s. Before the Horde ran things, they’d met here to talk to the Mayor, whoever that had been. Before Marie’s, the story was that they’d met at St. John’s, across the street. But Isaac was sure that people had congregated somewhere in times of trouble for as long as there had been people to do so.
Details about his call with Liza had clicked in Isaac’s head as they’d ridden to Marie’s. He went into the diner in a scarlet rage. The room went quiet, all eyes turning to him, and he scanned the room until he lit upon Mac Evans. He stalked toward the smarmy, shithead realtor and dragged him out of his booth by his pink-and-gold necktie. Evans squawked, but Isaac paid him no heed. He turned and started back toward the front door. He was going to kill the asshole, but he wasn’t going to do it within splatter range of Marie’s pie case.
Showdown moved into Isaac’s path. “What’s up, boss?”
“Step aside, Show. Mac and I have business.” The weasel at the other end of the silk noose whimpered and puled. Show stepped aside and then fell in behind them. He caught movement at his periphery; Len was joining their little caravan. That was fine. They could watch, long as they didn’t get in his way.
Lilli was still standing just inside the door, blocking it. She gave him a meaningful look—she was asking if he knew what he was doing. He nodded, and she backed off, clearing his way. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was going to rip Evans’ arm off and beat him to death with it.
He dragged Evans to the side of the building and threw him against the wall. Released from Isaac’s twisting grip on his tie, Evans gasped and took great swallows of air, his color fading from vivid puce to a pastier, greying pink. When he had enough breath to speak, he rasped, “What the
fuck
, Ike? What the
fuck
?”
Isaac punched him in the mouth with a fist full of heavy silver rings. Evans squawked again, his hands coming up to cover his split lips. Isaac leaned in close and snarled, “What were you told about carrying offers on the Keller place? What was our deal?”
Mac Evans was a toad who thought of no one but himself, but he was town, born and bred, and that had kept him alive. Ellis had found himself a patsy in Evans, and had used him in his early, most straightforward attempts to buy the Keller property. The Horde had pressed Evans hard to get him to flip back. In the end, it had been Show’s offer of friendship and protection from the club that had done the job. Isaac had a strong kind of hate for Evans, who’d profited from dozens of foreclosures in and around town; he’d preferred force. But force hadn’t worked. Neither, apparently, had friendship, not well enough.
“Jesus, Ike! It’s my damn job!” The words were barely intelligible over the swelling mush of his mouth and the hands that covered it. But Isaac heard, and cocked his fist again. As Evans drew back into the wall, Show grabbed Isaac’s wrist.
“Boss! You want to bring us into the loop here?” At Show’s interruption, Isaac wheeled on him. Evans took the opportunity of Isaac’s divided attention to make a feeble break for it, but Len grabbed him by the collar and launched him back into the wall. Then he leaned his tattooed hand on Evan’s shoulder, holding him in place.
When Evans started to try to say something, Len slapped him hard upside his head. “Mouth shut, asswipe.”
Isaac wanted to beat Show’s head in for getting in the middle here. Undermining him. But it was his job to be the cooler head. Searching his own hot head and racing heart for some kind of control, Isaac found it and settled. He took a couple of deep, calming breaths and explained about his call to Will’s furious new widow.
Show nodded and turned to Evans. “That’s bad, Mac. Breaking trust with us. That’s the kind of bullshit gets you hurt.” He looked back at Isaac. “What do you need from us, Isaac?”
Isaac straightened his kutte. Waving toward the restaurant, he said, “I gotta get in there and deal with that. He needs a lesson. And we need to stop that deal from going through. Take him to the Room.” He turned to Len. “Get Havoc, tell him bring the van. It’s time to play.”
Len nodded. “End result?”
“A lesson. Make sure he learns it, but don’t end him. Anybody does that, it’ll be me.” He socked Evans in the gut to emphasize his point, then left Len and Show to deal with him.
The quiet was thick and eerie in the overflowing restaurant. The only sounds were Marie, Dick, and the couple of girls they had working with them keeping the coffee flowing. Lilli was sitting at the counter, drinking her sweet, milky brew from one of the old-fashioned heavy stoneware cups, white with two thin blue stripes, that had been the tableware at Marie’s for its entire existence. He put his hand on his old lady’s back and nodded to Marie, who, like everybody else in the joint, had been watching him since he’d come back in. “I get a cup?”
Marie smiled. “Comin’ right up, Ike. Get ya anything to eat?”
“Maybe in a minute, hon, thanks.” He turned and put his back to the counter. This wasn’t the first time he’d been in a position to face the town in this way, but it was, by an order of magnitude, the most serious. Even the fucking mayor was sitting there, looking at Isaac, waiting for—for what? Wisdom? Solace? Salvation? Well, he had none to offer.
He felt a hand patting his back and turned to take the coffee Marie held out to him. Her smile was warm and confident. Everybody thought he would have the answer. He smiled his thanks, took a long swallow of the hot, bitter, black liquid, and set the cup on its saucer. When he turned around, Lilli put her hand on his where it gripped the counter.