talk.”
She didn’t budge, but she did follow his gaze when he looked around again. “You heard about the threatening letter,” Ivy said.
No, he hadn’t, but it got his attention, and Theo shook his head. “What letter?”
Ivy huffed, and she finally lowered her gun. “The latest one had a warning that my brothers, my sister and I would all be murdered on the anniversary of our parents’ deaths.”
Which was only two months away.
Ivy’s tone practically dismissed the threat her family had gotten. But Theo wasn’t dismissing anything. “You get a lot of letters like that?”
“Enough. Emails, too, and the occasional phone call from blocked numbers. If you didn’t know about that, then why are you here?” she asked without hesitating. “And why did you say it wasn’t safe for us to be out here?”
“Because it’s not.” He took a deep breath. “You know I’m a special agent in the DEA?”
Her mouth tightened, and she nodded. “Gabriel says you’re what law enforcement calls a joe.”
That was the slang term for it all right. An agent who went into deep cover, sometimes years at a time. Just as Theo had done. In fact, he was less than a month out of a three-year assignment where he’d infiltrated a militia group to track the sale of drugs.
“Yes,” he verified, “and I have access to criminal informants who give me intel from time to time. According to one of those informants, there’s a killer coming here to the ranch tonight.”
Her eyes widened. Then narrowed just as fast. She looked ready to bolt, of course, but he saw her quickly rein that in. “How reliable is this so-called intel?”
Good question. “Reliable enough for me to come to a place where I know I’m not welcome.”
She stayed quiet a moment. “You could have just called,” Ivy pointed out, confirming his notion about his not being welcome.
He shook his head. “According to the informant, the killer managed to bug both the sheriff’s office and Gabriel’s house.”
Theo saw another punch of concern on her face, maybe some skepticism, too, and she had another look around as Theo did. “This killer is connected to my parents’ murders?”
“The informant says the killer is.” Theo paused. “But the informant also said this is the same guy who murdered your folks.”
Ivy groaned. Mumbled some profanity under her breath. “We know who killed them. Your father, Travis Canton. And he’s sitting in jail right now because there was more than enough evidence to prove he’d done it.”
No, there was more than enough evidence to convict him. That was splitting hairs, but since his father couldn’t remember if he’d murdered the Becketts, Theo still had his doubts.
“Travis hated my parents,” Ivy reminded him as if he’d said those doubts aloud. “He threatened them just hours before the murders. And when the deputies found him by the creek, he had my father’s blood on his shirt.”
All of that was true. What she could have added was that Travis was an alcoholic who’d experienced blackouts, both that night and others. He could have killed the Becketts in a drunken haze and not even remembered.
Or someone could have set him up.
Someone waiting to finish the job by killing the Becketts’ children.
“Your father was the sheriff at the time of his murder,” he continued. What he was about to say would be old news to her, but he wanted to remind her that everything might not be black-and-white here. “Your mother was a former cop. They had plenty of enemies because of the arrests they made over the years. One of those enemies could be coming after you tonight, and that’s why you don’t need to be standing out here.”
There was a bit more worry in her eyes this time when she glanced around. But she still didn’t budge.
Now it was Theo’s turn to mumble some profanity. “Look, I know Gabriel, Jameson and your sister, Lauren, won’t want me inside—”
“Lauren’s not here and won’t be coming. She left town around the same time you did and hasn’t been back.”
Theo couldn’t fault her for that. Lauren was the youngest, had been barely eighteen when she’d been made an orphan. Like Theo, she had no doubt wanted a fresh start.
“I’m sorry,” he said, because it sounded as if Ivy was hurt that Lauren wasn’t there. It was a hurt he understood. “Hell, maybe my own sister won’t want me here, either. But can we at least sit in my truck while I convince you that this threat could be real?”
“And how will you do that?” she asked. Yeah, he’d been right about that skepticism.
“I’ve got a recording from the criminal informant. He knew some things about the night of the murders. Things that weren’t revealed to the press. He says the killer told him those things.”
Her attention slashed toward the house. “Gabriel will need to hear this.” And now there was some urgency in her voice.
Yes, he would. Jameson, too. And Jodi. “But not inside. Remember, there could be listening devices. If the killer knows we’re onto him, it could send him back underground where he could prepare for another attack. And next time, we might not get a heads-up from a CI.”
He could see the debate going on inside her, and with each passing second, Theo’s unease escalated. It really wasn’t a smart idea for them to be outside.
“Your brothers don’t trust me,” he added. “I get that.”
Man, did he. Because for a short period of time after the Becketts were murdered, Theo had been a suspect.
His father wasn’t the only one who’d had bad blood with Ivy’s parents.
Just hours before their murder, Theo had had a run-in with Ivy’s father, Sherman, and Sherman had told him in no uncertain terms that he was to stop seeing Ivy, that she didn’t need a bad boy in her life. Theo had been furious, even though Sherman had been right—Ivy had deserved something better.
“Yes,” Ivy whispered as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. “But let’s not allow old water and old bridges to play into this. Gabriel needs to hear this recording and decide if it’s something we should be worried about.”
Yes, and her brother would be worried once he heard what the CI had to say.
Ivy motioned for him to follow her. Not to his truck but rather to the back of the house. She hurried, thank God, which meant it had finally sunk in that she was in danger. But since she was clearly taking him inside, Theo had to speak up.
“Remember the part about a possible bug. When we’re inside, whisper.” That might not be enough if the listening device was sensitive and had a wide range, but at this point he just wanted her out of the line of possible fire.
She led him onto the porch and through the back door, but Ivy stopped in a mudroom, where there were raincoats on wall pegs and cowboy boots stashed beside a wooden bench. A reminder that this was indeed a working ranch. Gabriel wasn’t just a sheriff, but also raised cattle and horses. There were cans of paint and what appeared to be scaffolding, as well.
“There was a fire last month,” Ivy said, following his gaze. “An attack. That’s why I want to make sure another one doesn’t happen.”
He wanted the same thing, especially since Theo had read about that attack. His sister had been the target, and even though the guy was now dead, he’d clearly left his mark.
“I’ll have Gabriel come back here.” Ivy put the rifle on the top shelf of the storage closet, took out her phone from her jeans pocket and sent off a text.
Theo had another look