Jude followed her to the parking lot and climbed into the truck. Naturally, he checked for anything or anyone that might be suspicious, lurking in wait, and saw nothing. We should be safe enough in the vehicle. And I can protect her.
Natalie drove out of the lot and down to the highway. “We’re getting people coming by after seeing the billboard,” she told him with no little excitement. “I may have to hire a full-time receptionist.”
“Who takes the calls now?”
“Me or one of the wait staff. When Rick isn’t busy, he minds the front desk.”
Jude had met Rick and liked him immediately. He had little doubt the man adored Natalie and may even be counted on to help Jude to keep her safe in a pinch. As she drove, happily chatting about the prospects the lodge had, Jude let his mind drift to his feelings toward her. I think I’m falling in love with her.
Thinking of the female he had been betrothed to, and slated to mate with had he not been exiled, Jude knew his feelings for Shada’hara were nothing compared to how he felt about Natalie. He and Shada’hara had known one another since they were youths, and yet he had felt little passion for her.
True, she was beautiful, in her human form as well as her dragon, with silver-gilt hair and huge gray eyes, but she never set his pulse to pounding as Natalie did with no effort on her part. No, he decided, he could never have truly loved her as he was growing to love Natalie.
“Jude.”
He snapped his eyes to hers. “Huh?”
“Are you asleep? I asked you twice now.”
“Asked me what? Sorry, I was just thinking.”
She rolled her eyes. “I asked if you had seen the mockups and the one I had chosen.”
“Uh, no, I don’t think so.”
She grinned. “Then it will be nice to see what you think if you’re not prepared in advance.”
A few miles further on, she pulled to the side of the highway and parked. After checking for traffic, Natalie opened her door and got out. Jude followed suit, gazing up at the billboard. It had a picture of the lodge with the emblem of an antlered buck’s head over it, the exit number, and the slogan, The Best Food, the Best Lodging, at the Buck’s Head.
“People are attracted to good food,” she said, gazing up. “Hungry people want to stay at places that cater to their stomachs.”
“I like it.”
Natalie grinned and leaned against the front of the truck with her arms crossed, gazing up with pride. “This is a good location, too,” she went on. “A few miles from the exit gives them a chance to think about it and decide they need a place to eat and sleep. When the kids start whining, parents need to pull over to feed them, put them to bed.”
Jude completed his admiration of the billboard and gazed at the thick forests to either side of the highway. Nothing moved, save the passing cars in either direction and the breeze through the branches. Birds darted amid the leaves and evergreens, chirping their territorial warnings to one another, and high above, a hawk cried out to its mate.
“Jude?”
“Get in the truck.”
“What’s wrong?”
With more force than necessary, Jude grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to her door. “Get in,” he ordered harshly. “Something is going to happen.”
Natalie slid in behind the wheel and started the truck. “Come on, dammit,” she snapped. “Don’t stay out there.”
Jude started around the front of the truck, then hesitated, gazing back the way they had come. Several vehicles, from cars to the huge trucks, passed them by. Yet his eyes focused on one that seemed to be heading toward them at a greater speed than the others.
Lunging for his door, he yanked it open and half-jumped, half-fell inside. “Go, go, go,” he yelled.
Natalie put the truck in gear and floored the accelerator. Jude was thrown awkwardly back against the seat as the powerful truck hit a top speed and climbed higher. He scrambled up and stared out through the rear window. Sure enough, the truck that tried to run Natalie down in Landson closed in on them fast.
“I hope you can drive,” Jude commented grimly.
“Put your seatbelt on and I’ll show you driving.”
Jude buckled himself in, Natalie weaving in and out of slower traffic, staying yards ahead of the pursuing truck. “How’d you know?” she asked.
“My gut,” he replied, terse. “Sensed something evil on the wind.”
Even as he watched the truck, he caught her glance at him. “The dragon part of you?”
“Yeah. We are sometimes attuned to things you humans aren’t. It doesn’t always happen, but this time it did.”
Natalie swerved the truck around a slower car, as did the driver behind them. Jude watched over the seat as well as in the mirror beside him. “What can you do to lose him?” he asked.
“Right now,” she admitted, also watching the truck in the mirrors, “nothing. There’s no place to hide out here, no handy—wait.”
Before Jude could ask what her intentions were, Natalie spun the wheel. Thrown against the door, Jude had only a vision of trees spin in front of his eyes, and then a cloud of dust. The truck bumped over uneven ground before striking pavement. When he sat up, he discovered they drove in the opposite direction.
Natalie whooped. “Now he’ll have to find another way across the median.”
“What did you do?” he asked, gazing back through the window. The pursuing truck dropped down into the grassy verge between the two directions of traffic to turn and follow them, yet was still quite far behind them. Grass and dust, kicked up from the tires, struck the air, and distantly he heard horns honk in disgust.
“Turned around on an emergency vehicle lane,” Natalie replied, pushing the truck into a higher speed. “Quite illegal. He missed it.”
“But he turned around.”
“And got slowed down. Now we’re headed back into Landson, and straight to the sheriff’s office. Let’s see him follow us there.”
Watching behind them, Jude saw the other truck close in, and within moments, it was back on their bumper.
“Shit,” Natalie muttered. “He must have one powerful engine under that hood.”
As though furious at their near escape, the truck slammed into their rear. The jolt jerked the truck forward, and Natalie fought to keep it under control. Peterson accelerated again, passing them, and then turned his truck to strike at Natalie’s door. The screech of metal on metal hurt Jude’s ears, and he hung on grimly, thinking it might be time to change into his dragon if it meant keeping Natalie alive.
Natalie lost her battle for control. The truck slammed to the right and onto the shoulder, then beyond, heading for the trees. Bounced up high enough to hit his head on the cab’s roof, Jude felt rage slice through him as he fell back down. The truck bounced over the uneven ground and came to a hard halt with its front end buried in the bushes that marked the forest’s edge.
“You okay?” Jude bellowed.
Natalie lifted herself from the steering wheel, a thin trace of blood trickling down from between her eyes. “Yeah. Just great.”
Jude’s door refused to open immediately, and he slammed his shoulder against it, hard. It creaked open enough to permit him to slither through it like an eel. Behind them, Peterson had stopped his truck on the shoulder and lifted a gun in his direction. “Stay down,” he yelled at Natalie.
The first bullet pinged off the truck’s bed near his shoulder, but Jude charged anyway. Tempted to shift into his dragon form and flame the mother fucker where he stood, Jude knew he couldn’t endanger Natalie by revealing himself for what he was. But—he realized he didn’t have to.
Peterson took careful aim at him, resting his arms on his truck’s hood, his left eye closed. Jude stalked closer, waiting for the shot, the bullet, hearing Natalie’s yells for him to stop far behind him. “Do it, asshole,” he snarled. “Shoot me.”
“You make a very tempting target, boy.”
Jude shifted.
Peterson fi
red.
Jude’s blast of superheated flames from his open jaws not just melted the bullet on its trajectory, but sent Peterson stumbling back, taking shelter behind his vehicle. Jude’s blast of fire melted the tires, sent runnels of flames seeking the vulnerable gas tank, the interior on fire. Screaming in fear, in terror, Peterson bolted, running back along the highway.
The truck’s tank exploded, sending pieces of jagged metal in all directions, thick black smoke boiling in a mushroom-shaped cloud billowing into the sky. Jude felt the shrapnel bounce off his thick scales, harmless, the flames affecting him not at all.
“Jude!”
In a fraction of an instant, he returned to his two-legged self. The truck burned merrily, cars veering off the highway at the sight of the fire, stopping, people rushing out from opened doors. He felt Natalie’s arms wrap themselves around him and put his arm over her shoulders.
“You changed,” she hissed into his ear. “He saw you.”
Jude grinned. “And just who will believe him?”
“You sure it was Peterson?”
Natalie lifted the ice pack from her forehead where she had hit the truck’s steering wheel and scowled at Dave. Jude and Natalie sat in chairs in the sheriff’s office, Dave standing beside the sheriff, a big man with a drooping gray mustache and thick iron-gray hair.
“Yeah, I saw him. Recognized him; so did Jude.”
Her voice sounded tired beyond belief, and Jude took her free hand to offer silent support. “He chased us down the highway, ran us off the road. Then he tried to shoot us.”
Sheriff Hutton flicked through the reports and photos taken at the scene, as well as after her damaged truck had been towed. “Ayuh, we have a bullet hole in your truck, I see. But he missed you?”
His sharp gaze took in Jude. “Yeah. He fired at me, but I didn’t get hit. Don’t know why.”
“How did Peterson’s truck catch fire?” Dave asked.
This is the tricky part. In a spare moment before the police arrived, Jude and Natalie had agreed to plead ignorance, merely let the police and witnesses draw their own conclusions as to how the fire started. No one, save Natalie and Peterson, saw Jude’s other self, and Peterson was clearly crazy.
“I have no idea,” Jude replied. “He was shooting at me, and the next thing, he’s running because his truck caught fire. Then it exploded.”
“The grass there was tall and dry,” Natalie went on, gently touching the small knot on her head. “Maybe his hot muffler lit the grass. I don’t know. But that fire saved our lives.”
The sheriff scanned through the witness statements, and Jude hoped they reported the same thing—they didn’t see the fire start. Rubbing the side of his nose, Hutton said slowly, “We’ll keep looking for this guy, Natalie, and ask the state troopers to do the same. You say he came to see you driving a silver Mercedes?”
“Yeah. A big four-door thing.”
“Now that his truck is toast, he may resort to driving that.” He folded his hands together atop the papers and sent her a long measured look. “I am going to suggest you take a vacation, Natalie. Go somewhere for a while. Let us catch this guy before he does permanent harm to your person.”
Jude watched Natalie as she stiffened, outraged. “Hell no,” she snapped. “This is a busy time for me. I can’t leave now. My business is starting to do well finally.”
“Surely you can find someone to run it for you. Maybe this fellow here.”
“Jude is still learning how to market,” Natalie answered. “He doesn’t know enough about the rest of it.”
Hutton nodded, his lips pursed. “I reckon that might be a bit much to ask. We’ll do our best to catch Peterson.”
“Has that man who tried to kidnap her talked?” Jude asked.
“He said one word,” Dave snorted. “That word was lawyer.”
“But you have enough evidence to charge him, right?” Natalie added quickly. “To keep him in jail?”
“His arraignment is tomorrow,” Hutton replied. “The district attorney says we do, so let’s hope the judge sets a high enough bail that he can’t post it.”
Natalie rubbed her face with her fingers. “If Peterson hired him, he has plenty of money to bail his pal out of jail.”
Chapter Nine
Dispirited, scared, her head aching, Natalie stared out the window from the rear seat of Dave’s cruiser. Jude sat beside her as Dave drove them back to the Buck’s Head, and she felt his worry and concern for her welfare wash over her like a warm mist. Peterson’s aggression in trying to kill her to take her lodge both frightened and puzzled her.
“Why does he want it so badly?” she muttered.
“What’s that?” Dave asked, glancing in the rearview mirror.
“Why does Peterson want the Buck’s Head so badly he’s willing to kill for it?” she replied. “He already has a long chain of inns and lodges; why does he want mine so much?”
“Like you said, you’re making a go of it,” Dave suggested. “He could make a killing on it, just like you can.”
“It still doesn’t make sense,” Jude interjected. “Why risk spending the rest of his life in jail for a lodge he doesn’t truly need?”
“Some folks are plum crazy,” Dave told him agreeably. “I reckon he’s as mad as a hatter.”
“That he is.” Natalie watched the passing cars, the forest beyond the highway. “I just have a feeling I’m missing something. He has some other reason for wanting it other than its prime location.”
“When you find out,” Dave said, “you let us know.”
At the lodge, Dave opened the doors so Natalie and Jude could get out, saying, “We’ll do our best to catch this guy.”
Natalie took his hand, smiling. “I know you will, Dave.”
With Jude at her side, Natalie walked up the steps, waving at the guests seated at the tables on the porch, and went into the lodge before any asked why she returned in a deputy’s cruiser. They had missed lunch, but Natalie didn’t feel hungry, striding straight to her office.
Jude closed the door behind them as Natalie sat down behind the antique desk. Gazing at the pile of phone messages, she never felt less like working than she did right then. Jude folded his arms over his chest, leaning against the desk to watch her.
“How’s your head?”
Natalie touched the lump and the bruise she had seen in the mirror. “Sore,” she admitted. “I’ll take something for it in a few minutes.”
“What’s troubling you? Outside of Peterson, that is.”
“I don’t know.” She sighed. “Why does he want it so badly? I can’t truly believe his ego is massive enough that he’d risk everything for my place.”
“What is a motivation for murder?” he asked.
“Name it. Greed, revenge, pure evil.”
“Let’s start with greed then.” Jude left her desk and paced slowly around her office, his face lowered.
“I can’t see revenge being a motive,” she agreed, “but I can see the pure evil part.”
“So he can make money if he bought this place, right?”
“Just as I can, but he has to spend money to buy it. Even with me dead, he can’t just take it.”
“Exactly. So why risk so much to spend a huge amount of money to buy it?”
Natalie groaned, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the chair. “I’m making myself crazy trying to figure it out.”
She heard the rustle of his clothes as he strode to her, then felt him take her by the hand. Letting him stand her up, Natalie nestled her face into his shoulder as he crushed her to him. “We’ll make sense of this,” he rumbled softly. “I won’t let him hurt you.”
Her arms around his neck, Natalie felt safe, protected. “My dragon,” she whispered.
Jude chuckled, his chest vibrating against her ear. “You bet.”
Taking her by the chin, he tilted her face up to his and kissed her deeply, with love, with passion. She felt her body respond, their tongues entwi
ned, and she pondered the notion of taking him back to her house and jumping his bones.
The office door opened suddenly, and Jane gasped. “Oh, crap,” she said, “sorry.”
Natalie let go of Jude’s lips but refused to leave his arms. “What’s up?”
“Uh, some guests want to see you, Natalie.”
Natalie gazed up into Jude’s amused eyes. “Duty calls.”
“Should I go with you?”
“No. I’ll be fine. Will you return these calls?”
“Sure.”
Jude kissed her again, a light and sweet pressing of his mouth to hers, then he let her go. Natalie didn’t care that Jane watched avidly, and within hours the entire staff would know she and Jude were an item. Following Jane out of her office, she hoped that whatever the guest wanted to talk to her about wasn’t trouble.
A short, balding man in a sport coat and a just as short and plump woman with gray in her hair stood by the front desk. Both smiled as she approached, and thus Natalie presumed that they weren’t there to complain about the service. She answered their smiles and held out her hand. “I’m Natalie Hardstone. What can I do for you?”
The man and woman both shook her hand. “My name is Harold Mills,” he said. “This is my wife, Mildred. We’re amateur historians and thought to ask you a few questions about your beautiful lodge, and your family.”
This is not what I need right now. “Of course,” she answered lightly. “I will do my best to answer them.”
“Are you all right, dear?” Mildred asked her. “You have a terrible bruise on your head.”
“A car accident. Yes, I’ll be fine.”
Mildred clicked her tongue in sympathy as her husband nodded. “We’ve done a little research,” he said. “Your great-grandfather built this lodge? Back in, what, the early nineteen hundreds?”
“That’s right. It was in the middle of the logging boom, and he built it himself.” Natalie gazed around at the beams high over her head with pride. “Presidents have stayed here at times, as well as several senators and Hollywood celebrities.”
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