Dan had already decided not to let it get to that stage. He’d known Chauncey his whole life, and if Chauncey tried to wave a weapon at him, he’d arrest him on a whole different set of charges.
The O’Dells lived just outside of Grand on the opposite side of town from the road leading to the Endeavour. Their house wasn’t exactly remote, but they ran beef cattle on several hundred acres of flatland so their neighbors weren’t close.
Terry’s car was already there. He’d parked at the end of the long drive and was waiting for Dan. The rain had stopped but the dirt drive was a slippery, mucky mess. Terry walked to Dan’s window.
“No new activity,” the deputy reported. His expression was worried. “No signs of life, either.”
With any luck Chauncey had already passed out and his family had fled.
Dan called the house. Elaine answered, so there went that hope.
“Hey,” he said. “The kids called. What’s going on?”
“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”
She didn’t sound fine. Her voice sounded strained. He drummed his thumb against the steering wheel while he mulled it over. The situation had a different feel to the ones in the past and he didn’t like it.
“Calling the sheriff’s department is serious business. Mind if I take a drive up to the house and have a word with the kids about that?”
There was a long stretch of silence that had his hackles rising. On the other end of the line, the house was too quiet. There were no background noises. No voices. No sounds of movement. Yet the boy had told Terry they were all home.
How did anyone keep a five-year-old, a six-year-old, and an eight-year-old silent?
“Don’t put yourself out. I’ll speak to them,” Elaine said. And Dan heard the fear.
“No trouble at all.”
He hung up the phone without giving her a chance to answer and started the engine. He leaned through his open window. “I’m driving up to the house,” he said to Terry. “You stay here and wait for me.”
Long grass waved at him from either side of the drive. Mud splashed against the underside of his SUV. He passed a red barn on his right that had seen better days. It looked like a fun place to play. Maybe the kids were in there.
The house at the end of the drive was an old, two-story log home that someone had desecrated with gray vinyl siding. He pulled up in front of the sagging porch and got out. He walked around the hood of his SUV, mud sucking at his boots.
And there was Chauncey in the doorway, waving that damned .223 around as if it were some sort of flyswatter. The fool.
“I believe my wife told you we don’t need you here,” Chauncey said mildly. “That means you’re trespassing, Dan. I’ll give you ten seconds to get back in your vehicle and get out.”
“I just came to talk,” Dan replied.
Chauncey pointed the rifle at him. “You the man been sleeping with my wife?”
Now, Dan was pissed. “No, I’m not sleeping with your wife, and put down that damned rifle. Don’t make me have to take you in. I hate the paperwork involved,” he said sharply.
“Man’s got a right to defend his property against trespassers, Sheriff. ’Specially if the trespasser’s armed.”
Chauncey weaved a bit on his feet, giving Dan a much better idea of how drunk he was and how much trouble Dan might be in. All he could think of, however, was,where are the kids?
He put his hands in the air. “My gun’s in its holster.”
Chauncey flicked off the safety and they passed the point of no return as far as good outcomes were concerned. “Time’s up.”
The scene shifted to slow motion even as Dan’s thought processes revved, considering his options.
There was a slight movement behind Chauncey. Dan caught sight of Elaine with a cast iron frying pan gripped in both hands. She swung it at the back of Chauncey’s head, putting all her weight behind it, which sadly, wasn’t much.
The rifle went off. Its punch took Dan’s left leg out from beneath him. He landed on his side in the mud, then instinct had him rolling for cover under his SUV. He clawed at his holster, trying to get his gun free.
He knew he was bleeding. He could feel the spreading puddle of warmth. But he got why Jazz liked adrenaline so much, because so far, he was feeling no pain. The crash would be coming, however.