“Not really…” the farmer trailed off. “Oh, he said to tell Ruby ‘hi.’”
Ruby jerked toward him, throwing herself onto her hands and knees as the older man struggled to sit up. The pitchfork jutted out from his chest, the wooden handle swaying in the air. Blood soaked through his white shirt around the prongs. She scrambled forward, grabbing him by the collar.
“Are you sure he said Ruby?”
He blinked back at her, his eyes widening. “Pretty sure. He said it right in my ear before he left.”
Ruby’s grip tightened, her knuckles turning white. Her stomach churned, and she turned her head enough to spit the bile rising in her throat. “What else?” she demanded in a low growl.
“Nothing.”
“WHAT ELSE?” she screamed, flecks of spit landing on the man’s face. Her hand struck out, grabbing the pitchfork, preparing to twist it through his ribcage.
He writhed at the sudden, violent interrogation. “Nothing. I swear, he didn’t say anything else.”
Headlights suddenly flooded the area, followed by the rumble of engines. One car, then another, and another. Car doors slammed shut, the sound of heavy footsteps echoing through the hay and dirt.
“Ruby?” Someone new called out, cutting through her haze. “You alright?”
Feet appeared in her peripheral vision, but she refused to break eye contact with the sobbing ex-farmer. The firelight flickered, casting eerie shadows on the ground.
“Jonah?” They tried after getting no response.
Ruby’s other assailant, Jonah, responded. “I got her. I’ll get her cleaned up and have her report back soon.”
A hand touched her shoulder, a gentle but firm pressure. She tried to shrug it off, her mind still wrapped around the raw edge of her fury.
“Ruby.” Jonah shook her by the shoulder. “He doesn’t know anything, and the TCA needs to get this cleaned up before sunrise. It’s time to go.”
His hands moved over hers, slowly loosening her grip. She resisted at first, but exhaustion weighed her down. She finally let him pull her away from the man, pushing Jonah off before attempting to stand.
“You’re still an agent,” she accused. She’d seen the flash of his badge earlier, and that was the only reason he was still walking—or even conscious—after what he’d done.
“Still?” he asked, head cocking to the side.
“Figured you were dead.” She snorted.
Jonah remained silent, his arm steadying her as she stumbled to her feet. She was drained, the high completely gone, leaving her feeling hollow and incomplete. Throwing up had sped up the crash, but now she was unraveling, heavy-limbed and hollow.
"Keys?" Jonah’s hands hovered around her like she’d crumble without his support. Her lip curled, but she nodded toward the steering wheel. He opened the driver’s side door, keeping a hand at her waist to guide her into the seat.
“You really shouldn’t leave the keys in the car. It could get stolen,” he remarked.
“By who? The cows?”
Glass littered her passenger seat from a gaping hole in the opposite window. “Did you break into my truck?”
His look screamed the answer should be obvious. “That’s where I found the wet wipes.”
“It was unlocked,” she stressed, gesturing toward the wheel, “The keys were in the ignition.”
“I didn’t know that until after I broke the window.”
Her already thin patience evaporated into the night sky. The veins around her neck tightened as she ground out, “And you didn’t think to check?”
He shrugged. “Didn’t want you wiping vomit on your clothes.”
She glared at him before starting the engine, the vehicle rumbling to life, and slamming the door. Jonah chuckled and took a step back.
