Chapter 22

22

He had figured out the next step in the plan. Dale was good with it—it would just take some creative work on his part. He would need help to make it happen, but he wasn't a fool. Certain kinds of help could be bought with the right kind of incentive.

That Barratt was making everything just too easy. Tying him to what had happened in Texas was the simplest solution. Dale could just imagine the scandal once it was revealed that a Barratt was behind all the current crime in that part of Texas—crime stretching all the way up into little Masterson County, Wyoming.

The trick was going to just be making it believable.

Wayne was perfect for what he needed now. And Dale had always known exactly what price Wayne would have, what the man would do for that wife and four daughters Wayne adored so much. Dale understood Wayne—they had a lot in common, after all.

They would do anything for their families.

Dale wasn't averse to using a man he had once considered his close friend, either. Not if it cleaned this shit up and preserved everything he had worked for, too.

He had a reputation, after all.

Dale stepped into his home office long after Michelle had taken off to meet Sierra for lunch at the dining room at the Talley Inn in Masterson. It was a favorite place for both—they said it brought them closer to his roots. He wasn't as in love with the town as his wife and daughter were, by any means. Far from it.

If he'd had his way, he would have moved to Cheyenne decades ago, but Michelle loved Masterson County. Her roots, after all. And the connections his wife had in Masterson County had greatly helped Dale in his own quest. No denying that. He had been a working man who had married up, then worked his way through law school to build a reputation as a man who made a difference.

Easier to do that in a small town than in a larger one like Cheyenne.

He had files to go over. He had a list of names associated with Morris. He needed to make certain he had never come into contact with them—in either the legal arena or in his side dealings. Just to make certain.

The last thing Dale needed was a taint on his reputation now.

Dale had just settled into his desk when the door opened. On his damned home office.

Dale's hand slipped toward the middle drawer. Where his revolver waited.

When he saw the man who walked in, he almost pulled it. Almost.

"How in the hell did you get in here?"

"Through the front door, Dale. Through the front door. You'd think such a noted judge you'd be better at personal security, man." Bruce Tyler stepped right into the center of his home office and took the chair near the desk for himself. "Ah-ah, pal. Hand away from that drawer. Think I'm stupid? I know all about your little peashooter. Mine's bigger anyway."

The rather large handgun pointed at Dale kept Dale from moving an inch. "What do you want?"

"You and I—we have a project, don't we?" Bruce smirked at him. Dale had always hated those fucking Tylers. Since he'd been a kid and Ned and Bill had kicked his ass over something stupid. No good trash littering the streets of Masterson. This was their youngest brother—Bruce was twenty years younger and a hell of a lot physically stronger than Dale.

And had evil in his soul. No denying that. "We don't have a damned thing."

"Now, that's just a lie. You've made a mess of things. Now, we're going to clean it up."

Dale stayed right where he was. And listened.