In The Arms Of Danger
Page 32
“Jesus —” His silver gaze locked with Lacey’s. “What happened?”
“He’s been shot.”
“Christ, woman, I can see that.”
Lacey’s eyes widened. “You sound so much like Danger.”
Coe hopped in the Jeep beside Danger. “Take him to Papa Joe’s ranch.”
“No, he needs a doctor,” Lacey said.
Coe turned his steely gaze on her. “Danger would want Papa Joe to take care of him.”
“Then I’m going to the ranch, too.”
“I wouldn’t advise it. Papa Joe can be rude, especially to little Anglo gals with spit in their eyes. He won’t make you welcome or speak to you.”
“He’ll talk to me, all right.” She folded her arms across her breasts.
“How do you figure that?”
“I speak Pygmy.”
Coe’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “Do tell?”
He patted Lacey’s shoulder and grinned.
For the first time, Lacey relaxed. She hadn’t been sure if she trusted Coe or not, but he’d brought help and he seemed genuinely concerned about Danger. But maybe it was all an act. He could hardly kill her and Danger with the Remington brothers so near.
The trip seemed to take forever. Lacey swore Jace hit every chug hole and big rock along the way, but she knew he drove carefully. The terrain wasn’t the smoothest. When they finally screeched to a halt at the old ranch, Jace climbed out of the Jeep and reached for Danger. Coe stepped back out of the way as Jace lifted Danger in his arms and carried him toward the house.
“Don’t hurt him,” Lacey cried when she heard Danger’s soft groan.
Jace’s dark gaze locked with hers, and she saw a world of worry rode the shadowy depths. “I won’t,” he said in a guttural voice. “Danger’s been my best friend since we were boys. I’d like to kill the sonofabitch who did this to him.”
For some odd reason, Lacey found comfort in his words.
“Me too,” she replied and looked up in time to see Jace’s lips twitch.
“I wonder if Danger realizes what a blood thirsty little tiger he has?”
“I know,” Danger grunted.
Lacey gasped and saw that Danger’s eyes were opened. His face was lined with pain, but his eyes were clear. He reached for her hand. “I know,” he said again. “For Christ’s sake Jace, put me down. I can walk.”
“Really?” Jace lowered Danger to his feet and let go.
Danger hit the ground like a downed buffalo.
“You let him fall!” Lacey accused squatting beside Danger. “How could you do that to him?”
She heard Danger’s faint laugh.
“He’d have done the same to me just to prove his point,” Jace said.
“Sure would,” Danger grunted. “Your turn’s coming.”
“You’re both nuts.”
“Yes ma’am,” both men said together.
Jace helped Danger to his feet. “I know you want to prove you’re big and strong for your lady, but hell man, lean on me. You know you’re a candy ass when it comes to getting shot.”
Danger snickered. “Candy ass, my ass.” Then Danger frowned. “Get me inside to a phone. I have to contact the FBI. You have a major problem, Jace. There’s a serial killer camped on your land.”
In The Arms Of Danger
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“In an eagle there is all the wisdom of the world.”
Lame Deer, Minnicoujou
Blackstone Ranch Tues. 11:00 a.m.
Papa Joe stood at his back door and watched while his grandson was assisted up off the ground. The sound of laughter from the three in his back yard eased his mind somewhat. His grandson would live.
He slid his gaze to the Anglo woman and watched her place her pale, skinny arms around Danger’s waist so he could lean on her. She touched him with tenderness, wiped the sweat off his brow and upper lip and the look on her face said she’d kill anyone who meant him harm.
Ah, this was a good thing.
“So, the white tiger with the gold eyes has finally made her appearance,”
Shalene stated from his side.
“Indeed.”
“She doesn’t look so mean.”
The old man turned to her. “She is Anglo.”
“Ah, so we don’t speak to her.”
“She would die for him and him for her. This one, we will have to let dwell in
our hearts.”
“So, her claws are sharp?”
A roguish twinkle lit the old man’s eyes. “Sharp enough to keep our grandson
satisfied, just as you have always done for me.”
Shalene slapped him on the arm. “You feeling frisky, Papa?”
“Perhaps later.”
Shalene smiled. “Don’t wait too long, Papa. We grow older by the minute.”
She turned her gaze on her grandson. “He’s so pale.”
“He will be fine. He would not dare pass into the Spirit World while I care for
him.”
“She is too skinny, Papa.”
Again a roguish twinkle lit his eyes. “She is tougher than she looks, and she
won’t be skinny for long. Already our grandson has been busy. The Anglo
nurtures our great grandchild.”
“Boy or girl?”
He flashed Shalene a look filled with disbelief. “Boy, of course. Danger knows
his duty. He’s done a fine job with her.”
“He didn’t do it by himself, Papa.”
The old man’s lips twitched. “Of course not, the tigress contributed . . . a
little.”
Papa Joe sighed. He no longer feared the Anglo woman. She wasn’t the
enemy of his grandson. She wasn’t the one who’d shot him. He knew this now. A contented smile played at his lips. He knew the number of cubs the tigress
would give his grandson. Danger’s home would be filled with love and the sound
of laughter. He knew other things as well, but for now, he’d keep his old man
secrets and delight in the knowledge of things yet to come.
Lacey looked up at the old man standing in the doorway and felt her heart
drop to her feet. He watched her with piercing, unfriendly brown eyes. She wasn’t
welcome here. Tough. No way in hell was she leaving. The old man might as well
get ready to accept her. She was here to stay. She was family.
As if reading her thoughts, he stepped aside and spoke words only he
understood.
Lacey paused in front of him and spoke back, in a language she didn’t
understand.
Shalene whooped.
The old man snickered but his voice was cool as a frosty morning. “You speak
Pygmy, Anglo. No one in this house speaks the language. You will have to
converse in English so we can understand you.”
Lacey felt her heart settle. She smiled and quickly pressed a kiss against the
old man’s leathery cheek. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For keeping Danger safe all these years until I could get here to claim him.” He tipped his head graciously. “I’ve been waiting on you, Tiger with the gold
eyes. You are welcome, Anglo.” He looked past her head and toward the ridge of
mountains. “The evil one waits.”
“I know.”
“But he’s no longer a threat to either of you. He has moved on in search of a
friendlier hunting ground.”
“He’s gone? How do you know this?”
“Visions.”
Lacey searched the old man’s faded eyes, noted the mysterious twinkle and
didn’t know if she should believe him or not.
He dipped his head. “I would never risk my grandson’s life nor would I risk
yours, Anglo. You carry the next generation of Blackstone’s.”
Her jaw dropped. “How could
you know such a thing?”
“Visions,” Shalene inserted. “He’s never wrong.”
Lacey flashed a quick look at Danger who merely grinned and tried to shrug.
Jace stood there beside him grinning from ear to ear. “Congratulations. You’re a
fast worker.”
“I am not pregnant.”
“No?” Danger grunted. “Give me time; I’ll correct that for you.” Lacey snorted and turned back to Papa Joe. “Are you going to call me Anglo
for the rest of my life?”
His lips twitched. “You plan on pulling a gun on me if I do? I think I’m the
only male in this family left you haven’t held a gun on yet.”
Lacey blinked. “I might. If you start speaking Pygmy to me, I just might.” “Never learned the language.”
Lacey smiled. “Me either.”
He touched her arm halting her as she made a move to follow Jace and Coe as
they helped Danger into a bedroom just off the kitchen.
“He’ll be back, White Eyes. One day, the killer will return.”
“But not today?” Lacey decided to ignore the ‘White Eyes’ comment and allow
him the small concession of name calling . . . for now.
“Not today. And do not fear trampling my feelings. I have a tough, old hide.
Now, stay with Shalene, you cannot watch the healing ceremony I’m going to
perform for my grandson.” His eyes twinkled. “It’s a secret ceremony.” Lacey stared after him, once again, her mouth agape.
Shalene tugged on her arm. “Come, we will make coffee. Danger will want
coffee.”
Lacey nodded and followed the older woman to the stove where she lifted a
battered, enamel pot off the back burner.
“Yes, he will,” she said taking the pot from the woman’s trembling hands and
filling it with water. “He certainly will.”
In The Arms Of Danger
Chapter Twenty-Eight
What you don’t know intrigues you more than what you do know.
Loretta Young
Rimrock Sheriff’s Dept. Fri. 2:00 p.m.
Leaning across the width of the cluttered desk, Special Agent, Rafe Sanchez, shook hands with Sheriff Danger Blackstone. “I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me or not, Sheriff. You were pretty much out of it when I arrived in Rimrock a couple of days ago.”
“Pull you up a chair,” Danger said and grimaced as his shoulder throbbed from the simple activity of shaking hands. The sling around his neck sorely aggravated him, but his arm and shoulder hurt like hell without the added support it gave. “It’s hazy, but I remember you.”
Rafe pulled up a ladder-back chair and straddled it. His gaze wondered to the posters of the missing women still tacked onto the bulletin board. “Guess part of the mystery of what happened to them has been solved all in one crime scene. Now we just need to solve who did it and why.”
Danger leaned back and sighed. He genuinely liked this steely-eyed man. The agent was a straight shooter. He’d kept him informed of the progress of the investigation. Rafe hadn’t tried to hog the gory news of the discovery, but stated to reporters that Sheriff Danger Blackstone was the one who’d made the gruesome discovery of the corpses, even hinted that Danger had suspected a serial killer was in the area and that was why he’d been in the mountains and shot in the line of duty.
The man sent him a message as each body was carefully bagged, tagged and removed and sent to the state ME’s office in Helena.
“They’ve all been positively identified?” Danger asked.
“No, that will take some time, but the names on the driver’s licenses all match the names on the posters. I think they will prove to be a match to each victim.” He rubbed a hand down his unshaven jaw and gave a weary sigh. “I think your rash of burglaries is resolved too. The perp is the one who did all the break-ins. The missing set of dishes, wine glasses, cutlery, chairs, lanterns, candles and clothes all match the list of stolen merchandise reported by the local businesses.”
Danger nodded. “I figured as much as soon as I saw all the stuff in the cave.”
He took a moment to study the agent who’d taken over the case. The man was tall and lean, a no-nonsense attitude, hair black as the inside of the cave and military short. His piercing blue gaze met a man’s on equal footing. Danger figured the agent had seen a few things in his life to put the ice in his eyes. “I hear this is your last case. You’re leaving the bureau.”
“Checked me out, did you?”
“No offense intended.”
“None taken, I’d have done the same. In fact, I did.” He grinned. “I’ve been offered the sheriff’s job in Triangle— a little town in central Texas.”
Danger snorted. “Bum fucked Egypt.”
“Just about, thought I might settle there.”
“Married?”
“Nope, but if that pistol-packing woman who’s been standing guard over you has a sister, I’d be interested.”
“She doesn’t, and Lacey’s taken.”
“Yeah, the good ones usually are.”
Danger relaxed and grinned. “She’s something. Isn’t she?”
“That’s putting it mildly. The day I arrived at your grandparent’s farm, she kept me out of your room for at least half an hour. She opened the door a crack and jammed a pistol between my eyes. She swore she’d blow off my dick if I so much as blinked the wrong way until I could prove who I was. Is that coffee I smell?”
“Yup.” Danger laughed. “Help yourself. And Lacey wouldn’t have shot you. She couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn, missed a bear by a good two feet and it right in front of her.”
“I’d like to take your word for it, but I’m not willing to risk my dick.”
Danger snickered. “Don’t blame you. Any clue as to who the perp is?”
Rafe poured them both a cup of coffee, set one down in front of Danger, and lowered his lanky frame back onto the chair. “No. He’s a careful bastard. Not a single hair, fiber or print, probably shaves his head, chest and pubic area. What will hang him is the DNA from the babies, if they’re his babies, that is.”
He paused, took a sip of coffee, then continued. “Every single one of the women was pregnant, including the missing woman from your town. She was two weeks.” He took another sip and lowered his cup. “It’s bizarre. Except for your missing girl, the women were in different stages of pregnancy in numerical sequence, four weeks, eight weeks and so on. Six women. I think he planned to kill nine. I believe his plan was to kidnap, impregnate the woman and keep her alive until she reached the stage of pregnancy he wanted, then she’d take her place of honor at the table.”
“Place of honor?”
“To him, he’s honoring them with his children. You’re missing girl was likely number six, but she must have somehow escaped before she was that far advanced in her pregnancy.”
“Sick fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“The DNA will only hang him if it’s already on file.”
“True. But a man like him, if it’s not on file, it soon will be. He’s been doing this a long, long time. He’s bound to be getting bored with how easy it’s become to snatch his victim. He’s angry now that his plans have been kyboshed, and he’ll escalate. He’ll grow bolder. Take more risks.” Rafe took a sip of coffee, then continued. “Choosing his victims will become a matter of pride. He’ll feel honor bound to make things more difficult for himself. He’ll choose females who would never let him touch them in a million years. That becomes a personal challenge. He’ll stop at nothing to get the woman he chooses.” Rafe frowned. “His DNA will pop up eventually.”
“Christ, I hope to hell he doesn’t come back here.”
“He will. This is where he failed. It will eat away at him. He’ll move on for now, but he will return. Miss Weston isn’t safe yet. He’ll be out for revenge, but I don’t think he’ll be back until he has succeeded in
capturing more women and set his plans into action. At the least, you have a month, at most, nine, maybe longer if he decides to take his time.”