Wilde One

by Jannine Gallant

  “You’re sure someone shot at us?” Her whisper echoed in the silence.

  “Something whizzed past my ear at warp speed.” He kept his tone quiet. “And it sure as hell wasn’t a mosquito.”

  “Can we get up?” Her voice came out as a weak grunt. “You’re squashing me.”

  “If he’s still out there…”

  “I’m turning into a pancake.”

  “Okay. Okay.”

  When Griff rolled off her, she drew air into oxygen deprived lungs before trying to speak again. “Who would shoot at us? This makes no sense.”

  In the distance, a car engine started. Gravel crunched beneath tires, but no headlights flashed on.

  “Is there a road close by?” Griff rose to his feet and strained to gaze across the corn field. “Sounds like someone’s leaving.”

  “There’s a track of sorts to access the barns from the main road.” She scrambled up off the ground.

  “That must be what he used. Christ, it’s dark out. I imagine the flashlight broke when it landed.”

  “Where’s Rocky?”

  Griff stumbled and swore as the dog yelped again. “He’s here by the post. I just tripped over him. Sorry, fella. Ah, found the flashlight.”

  A moment later, a light beam struck her eyes. “Yikes!” She raised a hand to shield her face.

  “Sorry.” He lowered his arm. “Not broken, after all. It must have landed on the switch after it flew out of your hand.”

  “That’s good. I didn’t relish the idea of stumbling through cow pies all the way back to the house.” She bent to scoop up the trembling dog. “It’s okay, boy. Were you scared?”

  “Hell, yes. Some idiot shot at us.” Griff directed the light at the fencepost. “The bullet should be lodged at the top. I heard it hit.”

  “I was talking to Rocky, not you.” Ainslee stroked his quivering back.

  Griff’s only answer was a snort. “That’s weird.”

  “What is?”

  “No bullet hole.” The light flashed around the area before Griff hunched down then held up a round rock about an inch in diameter. “I wonder…” Standing, he frowned.

  “So, no one shot at us, after all?”

  “Not with a gun. He must have thrown a rock. But unless he has an arm like a major league pitcher and stood a whole lot closer than I figured, there’s no way a small stone would have sailed past my head with that kind of velocity.”

  Ainslee’s hand stilled. “Peyton had a slingshot when we were kids. He killed a squirrel with a rock once. I was so upset I wouldn’t talk to him for a week.”

  “Good call. A slingshot would definitely do the trick.”

  “What would kids be doing out here at this hour?” She hugged a still-trembling Rocky a little tighter. “Older teens, obviously, since they drove away.”

  “They wouldn’t. I refuse to believe we were the victims of juvenile delinquents twice in the space of a few days. This had to be deliberate, which means the shot in New Orleans was probably also intended for one of us.”

  A shiver coursed through her, and she laid her cheek on Rocky’s back. “I don’t get it. Our only real connection to each other is through the treasure hunt. Is that what these attacks are about?”

  “No one ever tried to kill me before Victor sent us on this wild goose chase.”

  “Is killing us some madman’s intention?” Her voice rose as panic squeezed her chest. “Does someone want one or both of us dead?”

  Griff stepped closer to pull her into his arms with the dog pressed between them. She held on tight, despite Rocky’s irritated growl.

  “Maybe dead is a little too strong. Doesn’t seem like a slingshot is the most effective or accurate weapon.” His grip eased slightly when the dog squirmed harder, back feet kicking in protest. “Possibly whoever is behind these attempts simply wants to scare us off.”

  “If that rock had hit you in the head…” She let out a shuddering breath.

  “It didn’t, and the bullet or pellet or whatever it was in the parking lot in New Orleans barely grazed your shoulder.”

  “So, either a lunatic with bad aim is trying to maim or kill us, or a maniac with exceptional skill just wants to frighten us into giving up the treasure hunt? Either way, the guy is certifiable.”

  “I won’t argue with that.”

  After lowering the still wriggling dog to the ground, she rose to rest her cheek against Griff’s chest. The steady beat of his heart calmed her jumping nerves. “What now?”

  “We take a little more care than we have the last few days and keep our eyes open for the suspects. I refuse to let some chickenshit loser who’d resort to taking potshots at us win Victor’s prize.” He stroked the hair back from her face. “Doesn’t mean you have to put yourself in danger, though. I’ll still split the treasure with you if you want to quit now before the crazy bastard tries something else.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not a quitter. At least I don’t plan to surrender until I’ve given the situation one hundred percent of my effort, and we aren’t even close to finishing yet.”

  He threaded his fingers through her curls. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Ditto, but you just said you won’t give up.”

  “No, but—”

  “If you tell me I’m a little woman who needs protecting, I might have to kill you myself.”

  He snorted with laughter. “Would I do that?”

  “I hope you have better sense.”

  Griff cupped her face in his hands to drop a kiss on her lips. “I still don’t like putting you at risk, but I respect your determination.”

  “Thank you.” She let out a sigh. “Why us? Why are we the target?”

  “Maybe this person is harassing the others, too. Or he sees us as his biggest threat to claiming the prize.”

  “He, who? One of the other contestants? Is that what you’re thinking?”

  “Makes sense, and I use he generically. I suppose Marietta could be a whack job with bad aim.”

  “He—or she—could also be one of Victor’s relatives. His grandkids might be pissed off the old guy bypassed his own descendants to fork over the treasure to one of us.”

  “I never thought of that. It’s definitely a possibility.” He kissed her again, this time on the forehead. “Smart woman. We’ll have to be on the lookout for people we don’t recognize lurking around the clue locations.”

  She pulled away, feeling like a bright student who’d been given a gold star. Not exactly the emotion she wanted to inspire in Griff. “Let’s head back. I’ve had enough excitement for one evening, and I need a shower. I’m filthy. Maybe I’ll throw in a load of laundry while I’m at it.”

  He turned toward the barns but kept one arm around her shoulders. “Sorry about smashing you into the dirt. Seemed like the right response at the time.”

  “I appreciate your noble intentions.” Ainslee glanced over her shoulder. “Let’s go, Rocky.”

  They reached the house a few minutes later. The outdoor light illuminated the tiny lines fanning out from the corners of Griff’s worried green eyes as he faced her. “You’re sure you won’t stay here, maybe extend your visit with your family while I’m in Wyoming?”

  “Positive.”

  He pressed his lips tight. “Do you intend to tell your parents what happened?”

  “Are you kidding?” She tapped one of the support posts holding up the porch roof. “My mom would tie me to the railing like she used to do with Gage to keep him from wandering off when we were little. No point in upsetting her.” She touched the small gauze pad on her shoulder. “Dad wouldn’t be too happy about the situation, either. I told him I scratched myself on a tree branch when he asked about the bandage.”

  “They’d want to protect you. I can relate.”

  She let out an unladylike snort. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Give it a rest, Griff. With or without you, I’m h
eading to Wyoming tomorrow morning.”

  A quick smile slipped out along with a sigh. “With. Definitely with.”

  “Glad that’s settled. I’m going to hit the shower, wash a load of clothes then get some sleep. All of a sudden, I’m exhausted.”

  He stepped closer to run his hand up her arm in a gentle caress. “I don’t suppose you’re interested in sneaking down the hall to my room after that shower?”

  Her brows rose. “I thought it wasn’t all about sex?”

  “Not all, but I wouldn’t mind squeezing a little in around the edges.”

  She clamped a hand to her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. “You really do have a death wish. My mom—”

  “Got it. No getting naked in your parents’ house.” He tilted her chin to plant a slow, lingering kiss on her lips. “Thanks for forgiving me.”

  She took a moment to gather her scattered thoughts before she spoke. “Let’s just say you’re on probation. My mom’s old fashioned notion about her daughter and sex isn’t the only reason I’m not jumping into bed with you.”

  “Fair enough.” He stepped back. “Good night, Ainslee.”

  “Good night.”

  * * * *

  Ainslee gripped the armrest and frowned. “Hey, you missed the turn. The highway’s in the other direction.”

  Griff cruised into Cloverdale and slowed. “I know, but I want to swing by the post office to see if…yes!” He pulled to the curb and pointed. “Look who’s here. I wondered if any of the others were around.”

  A dark-haired woman slammed the door of a red sports car then tottered across the uneven pavement of the street on four-inch heels. Moments later, she disappeared through the open glass doors into the post office.

  “Marietta.” Ainslee smirked. “Did you see those shoes? Somehow I can’t imagine our wannabe movie star out in a cow pasture flinging rocks at your head.”

  “The image does tend to boggle the mind. Wow, that was fast. Here she comes.”

  Marietta let the door swing shut behind her then paused for a moment on the sidewalk, a padded envelope held tight against her thigh. With a little toss of her head, she turned then stopped. Brown eyes narrowed.

  “She’s spotted us.” Ainslee’s hands clenched on top of Rocky. “Looks like she has something to say.”

  “This should be interesting.” Griff pressed the button to lower the driver’s side window and smiled. “Hey, Marietta. Looks like you found the next clue.”

  She blinked a couple of times. “You know who I am?”

  Rocky stood up on Ainslee’s lap and growled.

  “We’re not stupid. Of course we know—”

  “Griff, I have a proposition for you.” The actress’s rich voice drowned out Ainslee’s comment as she leaned in closer. One hand, complete with French manicure, clutched his arm where it rested on the open window. “I could use a little help.”

  He shot a quick glance toward Ainslee before turning away. “Um, I already have a partner.”

  “So, ditch her.” Bright red lips pouted. “Driving around alone is getting old. I asked Parnell when I saw him back in New Orleans, but he wasn’t interested.”

  “Maybe Morris…”

  She scrunched up her nose. “You should have heard the way he talked to the bartender at the Shrimp Shack. The man’s a bore.” Marietta batted long lashes. “I’d make it worth your while.”

  Griff coughed then cleared his throat.

  Ainslee raised a hand and stared at it then slowly folded her fingers into a fist. “Nope, I’m not invisible. I was beginning to wonder.”

  He made another strangling noise. “Uh, maybe you could call a friend or relative to join you in the search.”

  Marietta let out a sigh. “I already did, but I’d hoped…” Another sigh was followed by a shrug as she gave Ainslee an up and down inspection. Her top lip curled before she glanced back at Griff. “If you change your mind, look me up at the next stop.” Turning, she headed toward her car, hips swaying.

  “Forward little thing, isn’t she?”

  Griff shook his head and grinned. “That was unbelievable.”

  “Sure you don’t want to take her up on her offer?”

  “I’m sure.” He laid his right hand on her arm, much the way Marietta had touched him. “Look, I’m sorry about that—”

  Ainslee’s bare skin tingled before she jerked her arm away. “Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “You’re right, I didn’t.”

  He leaned forward as the actress climbed into her car. A moment later, she peeled out and roared up the street.

  His fingers tapped the steering wheel. “I wonder if the others are here yet.”

  Ainslee forced down irrational irritation. It truly wasn’t Griff’s fault Marietta had approached him. Still… She shrugged off her ill humor and focused on his question. “Let’s see, there’s one way to find out who’s here.”

  His head snapped around. “There is?”

  “Yep, there is. See the big, wooden sign up ahead for the General Store? Mrs. Granger, the owner, knows everything happening in town practically before it takes place. The woman has eyes like a hawk—or maybe a vulture—and a way of ferreting out information that would put the best trained detective to shame. If strangers are wandering the streets of Cloverdale, she’ll have all the details.”

  “God, I love small towns.”

  “Unless you have something to hide.” Ainslee grinned. “You won’t find too many cheating husbands—or wives—around here. Mrs. Granger would put the name of the culprit through the gossip mill before the poor sap had time to shower off the evidence.”

  “Okay, small towns may have a few drawbacks.” Griff pulled away from the curb, passed a couple of pickups then turned into the lot in front of the store. “Since I’m not a cheater, I’m still a fan.” He parked then turned off the engine. “Let’s go chat up your Mrs. Granger.”

  “Just be careful what you say. Remember the information trail goes in both directions.”

  “Got it.” He opened the car door then pushed Rocky back onto the seat when he tried to escape. “Stay there, boy.” Glancing toward Ainslee, he continued, “I’ll be very cool. Watch and learn from a master.”

  She slammed her door shut. “Why do I feel like we’re in over our heads?”

  “I’ve no idea. I was born to be a spy.”

  Ainslee rolled her eyes. “I thought you were the wild one, not the sneaky one.”

  “I’m both.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  He chuckled as he fell into step behind her. Bins of fresh produce sat beside the open front door. Inside, the aisles were filled with food to the left and typical dime store merchandise to the right. In the front, a long counter was stocked with glass jars of candy. A big woman with hair dyed an unlikely shade of bronze manned the antique cash register in the middle. Hazel eyes brightened as her customers walked across the echoing plank floor.

  “My goodness, Ainslee. You certainly look tanned and glowing.” Wilma Granger shot a speculative glance toward Griff. “Your grandma isn’t too happy you can’t—or won’t—stay for a longer visit.”

  Ainslee’s hackles rose at the implied criticism. “Next time, Mrs. Granger. Unfortunately, I’m on a tight schedule.”

  “Introduce me to your friend. I hear you two took a drive out to the old water tower yesterday. Aren’t you a little old for a teenage hangout?”

  She gritted her teeth. “Mrs. Granger, meet Griff Wilde.”

  “A pleasure.” He flashed a smile as he shook her hand. “What a wonderful place you have here. Real licorice is hard to find.” He pointed toward a jar filled with black ropes. “I’ll take a couple of those and an assortment of jaw breakers.”

  “Coming right up.” The store owner pulled out a white paper bag. “The town is full of tourists this week.” She glanced over at Ainslee. “Strange, don’t you think?”

 
“That is odd. Cloverdale isn’t exactly a mecca for visitors.”

  “Especially ones who wear heels guaranteed to break your neck.” She clicked her tongue against prominent teeth as she dropped Griff’s licorice into the bag. “Then yesterday, this rude, blond fellow asked John over at the gas station about some imaginary tower and nearly blew a gasket when he told him we didn’t have one. After I heard you’d been spotted at the silos prior to your trip to the water tower, it set me to thinking.”

  “Just showing Griff around town.” Ainslee shoved her hands into the pockets of her shorts, regretting her bright idea to pump the woman for information. At the rate they were going, word of the treasure hunt would be featured on the local news that evening. She cleared her throat. “We also took a ride through town and toured the farm.”

  Griff’s smile resembled that of a crocodile as he slipped an arm around her waist. “A man likes to know a little history about the place his special lady comes from.”

  “What a refreshing attitude.” Mrs. Granger glanced from one to the other then beamed. “So many young people don’t care anything about the past.” One brow disappeared into a fringe of bangs. “Can I expect an engagement announcement in my mailbox sometime soon?”

  Ainslee bent to cough and sputter as Griff’s arm tightened. “Uh, nothing’s official yet. We aren’t in a rush.”

  “You should be. You aren’t getting any younger.” She set the candy filled bag in front of Griff. “That’ll be four thirty-two with tax.”

  “Coming right up.” He released Ainslee to reach for his wallet and hand over a five. “I don’t suppose an old buddy of mine has been through town? We seem to have missed him, and I can’t reach him on his cell. A tall, black man?”

  “Don’t forget handsome.” Ainslee offered the addendum with a dark glance toward Griff.

  “The Samson twins couldn’t talk about anything else this morning. Your friend, Mr. Jones, played basketball with them at the park after dinner last night.” The woman handed over Griff’s change. “Then the boys took him up to the water tower. Appears the place is more popular than an amusement park. I wonder why?”