Chapter 9 Final Prophecy

Three weeks later

D ave and Gil strolled across a strip of pasture that had been in Gil’s family for generations. Located on the outskirts of town, it was sheltered by the mountains on one side and a forest of evergreen trees on the other side. It was far enough from the downtown area to muffle the usual hum of traffic and humanity.

“Look at that swagger.” Gil nudged him with his shoulder.

“What swagger?” Dave nudged him back.

“Your new dad swagger.” Gil chuckled. “Looks good on you, man.”

Yeah, I’m probably infected pretty bad with it. Despite the looming court case, Dave was happier than he’d ever been. Lonestar Security had spent the past three weeks installing a state-of-the-art security system in his home, making it possible for him and Jillian to spend more time together. He was very much looking forward to the day he could return home for good.

He glanced contentedly around them. Hay and alfalfa grass blew in the warm spring breeze across the field. The location was everything Jan and Jordan Jacobson deserved while they waited to testify in court — remote, peaceful, and the ideal temporary home to one very deserving horse.

Dave enjoyed his visits to Gil’s otherwise uninhabited farm and worked them in as often as he could, usually twice a week. Sometimes more often.

Western Storm trotted up to the fence to lean across it and greet him with a nose bump to the shoulder.

“Hey, you!” Dave dug the bag of sliced carrots from his pocket that he’d brought with him. He held a handful of the orange nubbins to the horse’s mouth.

Western Storm consumed them, hungrily nibbling the thumb of his glove afterward.

“More it is.” Dave obligingly dug out another handful.

“Horses never forget.” Jordan, who was never far from Western Storm, strolled around the horse to lean his elbows on the fence. He was full of wise-sounding one liners. Not all of them made sense to Dave, but he always nodded and pretended that they did.

Jordan was super smart in his own way, quietly observing the world with serious gray eyes. There was an innocence about him that never failed to tug at Dave’s heart. He was like a boy who’d never grown up. He said exactly what was on his mind without bothering to use a filter. The only time it bothered Dave was when he talked trash about his mom, which he’d been doing with more frequency since being relocated to Gil’s farm.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dave watched Jordan rock back and forth, keeping his head down as he patted the neck of his horse. He rarely made eye contact when he and Dave were visiting.

“You never forget stuff, either, Jordan.” Dave had long since learned that Jordan saw more than most people realized. He had a photographic memory and a mind that could crunch numbers at lightning speed. It was too bad he’d never gone to college.

Dave had always assumed the Jacobsons couldn’t spare the funds. According to Jordan, though, it was because his mother had refused to spare the funds, preferring to make income off her disabled son by keeping his schedule full of horse races.

Jordan bobbed his head at Dave’s words. It was hard to tell if he was agreeing with the statement or just exercising his tic of rocking. “I want you to take care of him after I’m gone.”

What? Dave frowned at the strange request. “We’re the same age, man. Odds are you’ll last longer than me since you eat more veggies.” He meant it as a joke, though humor was often lost on his overly serious friend.

“It’s the final prophecy.” Jordan informed him in a resigned voice.

Dave and Gil exchanged a puzzled look.

“Nobody we know has received any more threats.” Including you. Dave wished his friend would look up again. It was hard to communicate with a guy who spent most of his time staring at the ground. “Not since the day the police confiscated your computer.”

“I don’t own a computer.” Jordan darted a quick sideways glance at him, sounding a little irritated about having to explain himself. “Only this.” He tapped a finger against his temple.

Dave stepped closer to the fence. “I thought you were the Prophet, Jordan.” All evidence pointed to that conclusion, namely the photographs of the gambling receipts and injured horses on the laptop found in his stable bedroom.

Jordan shook his head, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I race horses.”

“And play video games, right?” Dave prodded. According to Jordan’s mother, he spent hours gaming every day.

“It’s what they want you to think.” Jordan scowled at the ground.

“They?” Dave exchanged another puzzled look with Gil. Who in the world was Jordan talking about? Besides the Lonestar Security Guards, Jan Jacobson was the only other person around.

“The gamblers,” Jordan muttered.

What in the world? “What do you know about the gamblers, Jordan?” In the past, he’d refused to answer any questions about the photos found on his laptop. Every time Dave or the Feds had tried to get him to talk about the photos, all he’d offered them was a blank stare.

“They visit my mom.” Jordan blew out a breath. “As if you didn’t already know that.” Since he often spoke with little to no inflection in his voice, the bitterness edging it today was all the more noticeable.

“I didn’t know.” Dave wished they had a psychologist present, someone with the training and skill set to reach inside Jordan’s murky brain and make sense out of his rambling. “What else can you tell me about the gamblers, Jordan?”

Gil already had his phone up to his ear, dialing Josh. “We may need some backup.” He kept his voice low. “No idea, but things are getting weird out here. Very weird.” He walked a few steps away from Dave and Jordan to continue his conversation with Josh out of earshot.

“It’s the bridles they use.” Jordan continued rocking back and forth in agitation. “They hurt the horses. The horses lose the races.”

What bridles? Dave was more puzzled than ever. “Any chance you can show me one of the bridles?” Jan had mentioned something the other day about the doctor tweaking her son’s medications again. She’d warned him that Jordan might say or do some crazy stuff until his body adjusted to the new dosages.

“The bridles aren’t here.” Jordan turned around and stalked toward the weathered brown barn where Western Storm had been stabled for the past few months. Western Storm tossed his head with a nicker and trotted after him like a dutiful shadow.

Dave didn’t know if Jordan was expecting him to follow behind them or not, but he did so anyway.

Gil jogged to catch up with the three of them. “Uh, newsflash.” He dropped his voice so that only Dave could hear him. “Another death threat for Jan Jacobson arrived at the Triple J Ranch today.”

“Does she know about it yet?” Dave glanced toward the cabin beside the barn where Jan had been staying with Jordan.

“Nope. Not yet.” Gil sounded as glum as Dave felt.

He wasn’t looking forward to delivering more bad news to her. Not only had she lost her husband, Jordan’s health was continuing to spiral downward, and the bills at Triple J Ranch were continuing to mount in her absence. She’d laid off most of her employees. If her son was ultimately disqualified from racing, she’d already informed Dave she’d have to file for bankruptcy.

“Not it.” It was Dave’s lame attempt at a joke, as the two of them watched Jordan reach the barn and slide open the door.

Gil blew out a weary breath. “From what I understand, the Feds are gonna do the honors of informing her during their next debriefing session this afternoon.”

“She survived the last threat,” Dave mused. “That’s something.”

“So did your son,” Gil pointed out.

“But his original due date wasn’t until today,” Dave reminded. As a precaution, Lonestar Security had increased the patrols around their home today. He would’ve preferred to have his wife, son, and mother ensconced in the safe room, but Gil had convinced him it would be overkill. “I know we beefed up security big time in anticipation.”

“It couldn’t be tighter,” Gil assured him firmly. “We have all bases covered, including the bigger security detail for the farm that’s headed our way as we speak.”

“Then why does it feel like we’re missing something?” Dave grumbled, as they strolled into the barn after Jordan. They watched him brush down and feed his horse.

One of the Lonestar Security guards on patrol poked his head around the corner. “Yo! Everything cool in here?”

Gil sent him a thumbs up, and he moseyed on to continue his patrol outside.

It dawned on Dave that Jan would’ve normally made an appearance by now. His mouth watered at the thought of sinking his teeth into another one of her homemade banana nut muffins. She’d quickly endeared herself to the Lonestar Security team with all the fresh-baked goodies she served them.

“Hey, Jordan,” Dave called. “Where’s your mom? ”

“With the baby,” he muttered, brushing faster.

“What baby?” Man, but Jordan was starting to really creep him out!

“The new one. She made a present for him.”

The only new baby boy in town that Dave knew about was little Bo. Surely, there were others. Regardless, Jordan’s talk about his mom visiting a baby sent a wave of alarm rolling through his chest. For one thing, she wasn’t supposed to leave the farm without a Lonestar escort. The whole idea of sheltering in place was to actually stay in place. Was Jordan getting the details of what was happening around him mixed up inside his head again?

While Dave deliberated what to do next, Jordan stopped brushing his horse. He sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “I know I’m not normal, but I’m not crazy, Dave.”

His words made Dave’s heart ache. “I don’t think you’re crazy, man. You’re probably smarter than all the rest of us put together.” At least, when it came to book smarts. I just wish you made more sense sometimes.

“Everyone thinks I’m crazy,” Jordan grumbled, getting back to work. “Especially my mom.”

Who was still notably absent. Dave and Gil exchanged a troubled look that caused Gil to call the security guys on patrol.

“Where’s Jan Jacobson?” There was a pause. “Thanks, man.” He disconnected the line. “They said she’s inside the cabin.”

“No, she isn’t.” Jordan continued brushing his horse with dogged determination. From his expression, one might’ve thought his very life depended on the next stroke of the brush .

Without warning, he threw his brush down and stalked to the back of the barn, disappearing into one of the empty stalls.

Dave hurried after him. When he caught up to Jordan, he stopped short. No way! Not again!

“Gil?” He nodded him closer to take a peek at the navy blue sleeping bag that Jordan had plopped down in the middle of. Their high school friend had his knees pulled up to his chest and his forehead resting on his knees. A spare set of sneakers and boots rested against the wall to Jordan’s right, the toes pointed in a perfectly straight line.

There was only one conclusion to draw. Jordan had been sleeping in the barn.

Again.

Dave didn’t get it. What was Jan thinking? He understood that her son had his struggles, but he wasn’t another one of Triple J’s blasted horses! Jordan’s socialization skills were poor enough as it was, and they sure as all get out weren’t going to improve by allowing him to hole up in another barn.

Maybe the isolation that accompanied their extended sheltering in place in the country was messing with Jan’s head.

Dave gritted his teeth, knowing he could speculate all day long, but what he really needed to do was talk to Jan. As unpleasant of a conversation as it might be, only she could provide the answers he needed.

“I’ll be back, Jordan.” With a baleful look at Gil, Dave exited the barn and moved toward the cabin to go check on her. Jogging up the porch steps, he knocked on the door a few times. There was no answer.

“Jan? It’s Dave,” he hollered. He could hear music blaring on the other side of the door. Rattling the doorknob, he found it locked.

You’ve got to be kidding me! Indignation on Jordan’s behalf spurted through him. What if her son got hungry or needed to use the restroom? What kind of mother barricaded herself inside the house while her special needs son fended for himself in a blasted barn?

He pounded louder on the door, calling her name again. There was still no answer.

Gil rounded the corner of the barn and jogged up to the front porch. “Everything okay out here?”

“Not sure, but I’m about to find out.” Dave reared back and kicked the door handle off. The knob flew to the floor of the porch, and the door swung open. He drew his weapon and entered the cabin.

Gil was right behind him with his weapon drawn. They quickly worked their way through the cabin. Nobody was in the kitchen, living room, two bedrooms, or bathroom.

“Clear,” Dave called from the second bedroom.

“Clear,” Gil called from the kitchen.

They reconvened in the living room, where Dave switched off the country music channel that had been belting out of the television.

“Where is she?” he muttered beneath his breath.

Gil shook his head. “The only place we haven’t checked is the storm shelter out back. Used to be a cistern. I keep a case of water in it, a flashlight, and a few blankets for emergencies.”

Dave shrugged. “Let’s go have a look.”

They headed outside to stand in front of the slanted double doors leading down to the storm shelter. They had a fresh coat of white paint on them and a few long, black scrape marks .

“Looks like the storm shelter’s been in use.” Looking grim, Gil trained his gun on the doors while Dave pulled them open. What they found on the other side was not the case of water and blankets Gil had described.

A black cloth lay crumpled on one of the benches built into the side of the tiny space. It was draped half over a gasoline can. The strap of a pair of black goggles was looped around the nozzle. Its wide UV-coated lens was cracked on one side.

Dave sniffed the air. It smelled like dirt, grass, and gasoline. Leaping down into the shallow storm shelter, he examined the black fabric closer. It was waterproof with elasticized edges like a bedsheet. “It’s a cover of some sort.”

“Yep.” Gil frowned. “An ATV-sized one.”

“Looks like.” It made no sense to Dave. The four wheelers the patrol guys rode were housed in a padlocked shed, not inside the storm shelter they were currently examining.

He climbed out of the storm shelter to gaze around the backyard. What are we missing? The sense that they were overlooking something grew.

Jordan loped across the yard in their direction, muttering something too soft for Dave to hear. As he drew closer, Dave was finally able to make out some of it.

“Six o’clock in. Eight-thirty out. North side. Bathroom break. Nine o’clock in. Eleven-thirty out. South side. Bathroom break. Loud music. Four-wheeler leaves.”

As Dave listened, it dawned on him that Jordan must be repeating the movements of today’s guard team as they cycled on and off duty. Lonestar Security scrambled the schedule of their guards every day. However, they typically maintained the leapfrog style of rotations that Jordan was describing .

The more Dave thought about it, the more he was convinced that Jordan’s mom must have figured out the exact moment in the guard’s schedule when their surveillance of the cabin was minimal. Or Jordan had figured it out and inadvertently shared that information with her, which was the likelier scenario.

He jerked his head up to meet Gil’s gaze. “New theory. Jan Jacobson left on an ATV she’s been storing inside the storm shelter.” He had no idea how the broke rancher had gotten her hands on an ATV and what she was planning on doing with it, but that was what the evidence was telling him.

“She left with the gambler,” Jordan announced in a more animated voice than Dave had ever heard him use.

Gil swiftly got back on the phone with Josh. “Any sign of a woman on a four-wheeler anywhere near Dave’s house? There might be two people riding on said four-wheeler. A man and a woman. Jordan is claiming his mother left the ranch to deliver a present to a baby boy.” He mashed the speakerphone button so Dave could listen in.

Dread tightened Dave’s chest as he waited for Josh to respond. Today was the day the Prophet had threatened to kidnap Bo. He no longer cared how many more security guards Lonestar had covering his home. He should’ve thrown all caution to the wind and made it a priority to be there personally. If anything happened to his family in his absence, he was never going to forgive himself.

Josh started speaking again in a rush. “Yeah. Looks like our guys have eyes on an ATV moving in the direction of Dave’s home. We’ll relocate his family to the safe room pronto. Don’t let Jordan out of your sight until you hear back from me.” He hung up.

“I’m not crazy,” Jordan said again .

“No, you’re definitely not crazy.” Remorse thickened Dave’s voice. “You were right about everything, my friend. Looks like I’m the one who got it all wrong.” He reached out to clap Jordan on the shoulder. As he raised his arm, he caught sight of a flashing red light beneath the ATV cover inside the storm shelter. He dropped to his hands and knees to peer closer at the light and discovered it wasn’t flashing at all. The red lights were a set of digital numbers on a countdown!

Dave didn’t wait to see what the countdown was for, though he had his suspicions. He lunged to his feet, whirled around, and grabbed Jordan by the shoulder to spin him away from the storm shelter. “Run!”

He, Jordan, and Gil took off at a sprint. No sooner did they leave the yard and scramble over the fence into the pasture did the world behind them erupt.

Dave hit the ground, pulling Jordan down with him. Gil dove after them. Smoke and heat enveloped them, bringing a wave of smoldering debris and ashes.

The three men writhed and slapped at the red-hot shards, knocking them into the grass on either side of them. Smoking pockets of grass burst into flames.

“Come on!” Dave urged them back to their feet and got them running again. If they stayed where they were, they’d be burnt alive.

Ahead of them in the distance, Western Storm screamed and dug his hooves into the ground as he galloped away from the billowing smoke and flames.

With a guttural cry of alarm, Jordan took off after him.

Five minutes earlie r

Jillian rocked little Bo, adoring the way he nuzzled his soft head against her neck. There was no feeling in the world more amazing than cuddling a newborn baby.

Unless, of course, it involved cuddling with Dave… She blushed at the direction of her thoughts. Only one more week until the big federal trial began for the two biggest kingpins in the murderous horse gambling ring. She wasn’t supposed to know anything about the case. Ever the professional, Dave had kept his lips sealed on the topic. However, she’d heard about the trial in the news and put two and two together. Her mother-in-law had put her nosy skills to work and filled in the rest of the details for them.

Jillian didn’t care about being “in the know” about her husband’s case. All she cared about was that it would soon be over. Yes, she wanted justice served to the injured parties involved, but she mostly wanted her husband back.

She was so ready for them to be a family of three. She wanted it all — trips to the park with Bo in his blue canopy stroller, Little League baseball games when he got older, spaghetti dinners around their dining room table, and family board games afterward.

The rumble of a motor in the distance interrupted her daydream, making her grimace. Funny how she’d never noticed sounds like that before having a baby. In the past, her ears had automatically tuned out stuff like that. Nowadays, every extra noise was like a growling gremlin threatening to wake their son during his nap time.

The fact that Jillian had started off the day tired made her feel even more on edge. It had been impossible to fall asleep the night before her son was supposed to have been kidnapped. Even though Dave had figured out the Prophet’s identity and assured her the guy was harmless, something still felt off about today. Ominous. Like the calm before a storm.

Eloise peeked her head through the nursery door to give Jillian and Bo an adoring look. She pressed a hand to her heart and blew them a kiss.

Jillian smiled back at her. She secretly found it hilarious that the tiny baby in her arms had reduced her sassy mother-in-law to such a pile of mush. She didn’t blame her one bit. Bo had transformed both her and Dave’s hearts into the same melty mush.

The drone of the motor grew louder, making her smile slip. It sounded like one of the neighbor kids on a dirt bike. She scowled at the only window, wishing she’d taken the time to shut it before rocking Bo to sleep.

Eloise must have read her thoughts, because she tiptoed into the room, making a silent beeline for the window. No sooner did she peek through the glass than she abruptly swung back around. “Follow me,” she ordered in a low, terse voice that made Bo squirm and let out a whimper.

She dashed like a mad woman around the room, grabbing diapers, blankets, and wet wipes.

“What’s going on?” Jillian hissed, surprised that her mother-in-law had forgotten to whisper.

“We have company!” Eloise snapped her fingers in agitation, waving Jillian frenziedly toward the door. “We need to move. Now!” Her voice rose in alarm.

Jillian moved. She followed her mother-in-law to the master bedroom, her heart thumping with trepidation as they continued into the walk-in closet.

“Come on! Come on! Come on!” A package of wet wipes slid from Eloise’s grasp as she fumbled for the button hidden inside the rosette on the dressing mirror. She found it, and the door to the safe room popped open.

“In you go, my dears!” She swung her right arm like a windmill, waving Jillian and the baby through first. Then she hopped after them, kicking the package of wet wipes like a soccer player trying to score a goal. Dropping everything in her arms into the nearest chair, she spun around to secure the door behind them.

Jillian stood in the middle of the safe room, trembling as silence settled over the room.

Bo gave another disgruntled whimper before snuggling against her shoulder and neck once again.

Jillian sought out her mother-in-law’s gaze over his soft, silky head. “What sort of company?” she whispered.

“The uninvited kind.” Eloise paced the tiny room. Or tried to. It wasn’t really big enough for pacing. “There are two people headed our way on a four-wheeler. Riding straight across Edward’s back pasture. He’s gonna have their heads if they leave ruts.”

Jillian’s lips tightened in irritation. “Did you recognize them?” The moment she had a name, she was going to file a complaint with the homeowner’s association. Edward’s empty back pasture was not going to turn into the neighborhood hangout for kids on ATVs and dirt bikes. Not during Bo’s nap time, at any rate!

Before Eloise could answer, an explosion shook the floor beneath them.

Baby Bo awoke with a startled squawk and started bawling at the top of his lungs.

Eloise leaped Jillian’s way to throw her arms around them, praying for protection almost as loudly as Bo was howling.

Despite the waves of terror rolling through her, Jillian found comfort in the sound of her mother-in-law’s voice. It was the first time she’d ever heard her pray.

A second explosion shook the small room, making Eloise pray all the harder.

Help us, Lord! Jillian’s dazed brain added her own silent plea to the much louder one her mother-in-law was sending heavenward, hoping it wasn’t the last thing she would ever hear.