Voorhees fumbled with her body as if it was the first time he’d ever touched her. All the while, he grinned and struggled to say what he was thinking. Instead, the only sounds he could make were grunts and groans. His head was swimming amid a flurry of sights and textures. His blood was pumping too fast for him to focus.
Seeing the frustration on his face, the woman reached up to place her hands upon his chest. “Shhh,” she whispered as she eased him back and off of her. “Let me do it.”
The moment Voorhees felt his back touch the mattress, he was able to let out the breath that had snagged in his throat.
“Is that better?” she asked.
“Yes, Elizabeth,” Voorhees replied. “Much better.”
Elizabeth smiled and straddled him. Her back straightened, and she peeled off her blouse as if she was simply brushing away a cobweb. Looking down upon his face, she licked her lips and then sifted her fingers through her hair.
For the first few seconds, Voorhees kept himself from touching her. He reached out for her hips and then for her breasts, but pulled away as if he was afraid of being scolded. Once his hand came to rest upon her leg, he clenched his jaw and grabbed onto her.
“That’s the way,” Elizabeth whispered. “Just like that.”
At first, Voorhees rubbed her leg fervently. Then, his hand made its way under her bunched-up skirts and dug all the way up until he could feel the thatch of hair between her legs. He slipped the tips of two fingers into her, causing Elizabeth to arch her back and shudder on top of him.
“Did you do that for me?” she asked.
Voorhees didn’t reply. He slid his fingers in and out of her, savoring the way she shook and trembled with an approaching orgasm.
“The fire,” Elizabeth moaned through gritted teeth. “Did you set that fire for me?”
“Yes,” Voorhees whispered. “Just for you.”
Elizabeth’s eyes snapped open, and she reached for the front of his jeans so she could pull them down viciously. She couldn’t free his erection fast enough, and she wrapped her fingers around it. Stroking him up and down, she got him even harder before finally lifting herself up and taking him inside of her.
“Yes,” she moaned as she rode back and forth along the length of his penis. “You set all of them for me, didn’t you?”
Grabbing onto her hips, Voorhees moved her even faster while pumping up into her. “Every one of them, Elizabeth. Every goddamn one.”
As she listened to him, Elizabeth dug her fingernails into Voorhees’s chest. As her orgasm swiftly approached, she dug her nails in even harder, until she finally drew blood. Before tearing into him any more, Elizabeth leaned back and braced herself with her arms against his legs. From there, she writhed on top of him until every inch of her body was gripped in a powerful climax.
When Voorhees reached out for her, his fingers were curled into the shape of meaty claws. Although he scraped his nails against her skin for an inch or so, he eased up once he was touching the sensitive skin of her clitoris. Then, he rubbed her sweet spot with his thumb and watched as she squirmed and tried desperately to catch her breath.
It took a while for her to regain her strength, but she was eventually able to straighten up and ride him properly. Her head drooped forward, and she needed to place her hands upon his chest to keep herself upright. Elizabeth closed her eyes and rocked on top of him, riding his cock slowly and insistently.
Voorhees kept rubbing her. He could feel her getting wetter and wetter the more he rubbed, which allowed him to glide in and out of her even easier. Soon, she merely had to pump her hips to put a wide smile on his face.
The haze in Voorhees’s eyes had cleared. He was breathing easier, and the muscles were no longer jumping beneath his skin. Before too much longer, he was able to sit up and roll Elizabeth onto her back. He then pushed her legs apart and settled in between them. His rigid cock fit perfectly into her, and she accepted every inch of it with a grateful sigh.
“Oh yes,” she moaned. “Do it for me.”
Voorhees placed both hands upon her breasts and thrust between her thighs. He thrust into her until Elizabeth was panting with exhaustion. He kept on pumping until he exploded inside of her. The pleasure he felt was enough to make him ball up his fist and pull it back almost as far as his ear.
Recognizing the way his muscles tensed, Elizabeth turned her head before his fist came down. Voorhees punched the mattress hard enough to jostle her whole body on impact. Still, it was better than the alternative.
Elizabeth looked at the fist that was still pressing down into the mattress beside her and smiled warmly. “Are you gonna do it again for me, baby?” she asked.
Slowly shifting his eyes away from her, Voorhees got the same faraway look in his eyes that showed up when he was looking at a raging fire. “Soon,” he growled. “I’ll do it again real soon.”
SEVEN
“Looks like these tracks headed in from the south,” Clint said as he hunkered down for a closer look at the ground near the burned shed. “And then they circle around to head back in the same direction.”
“Coming or going, they only take us about a quarter of a mile in that direction before disappearing,” Barkley said.
Standing a little ways back from the shed, Henry added, “And if you can believe anyone who tells you some tracks disappear, you can believe Barkley.”
Clint looked over to the man who seemed to be one of the older members of the group of Texas Rangers. He had the keen eyes and grizzled appearance of an experienced trapper. Judging by the way he carried himself and the guns strapped to his waist, he may have even tangled with a bear or two in his day.
“How’d you find this place?” Clint asked.
“Little bit of know-how,” Barkley replied. “Mixed in with a little bit of luck. Mostly, this killer sets his fires and then moves along. He seemed to be following a broken-down old trail that led out of Texas, so we followed that trail after we lost his tracks.”
“Looks like two separate sets of tracks to me,” Clint added.
Barkley nodded. “Yeah, but they pretty much act like one. Whenever we’ve spotted tracks at a fire, there’ve been two sets of them. There were even two sets of tracks that we followed out of Texas.”
“And you stumbled upon this?”
“Least we didn’t sleep like a baby a stone’s throw from where good folks were dying,” Talman grunted.
There was no mistaking the barbed edge to Talman’s voice, but Clint didn’t get too rattled by it. Instead, he glanced toward Talman and stated, “True, but I didn’t know this killer was about. What’s your excuse for what happened here?”
Talman started to lunge forward, but was stopped by Henry’s outstretched hand.
“Did you see what you needed to see here, Adams?” Henry asked. “Because we can’t let any more time slip by.”
“Agreed,” Clint said as he dusted himself off and turned his back to the shed. “Whoever did this can’t be too far away. My guess is they’re holed up at the nearest town.”
Henry squinted and asked, “You don’t think they’d keep running?”
“How many fires have there been?” Clint asked.
After a slight pause, Henry replied, “Too many.”
“Then . . . no offense . . . but I’d say these killers are pretty certain they’ve got you and your men figured out. They may have been running at first, but they might just be getting lazy right about now. Or, if not lazy, pretty confident in their chances of keeping ahead of you.”
Talman started to grunt a string of obscenities directed at Clint, but was stopped once again by Henry. This time, the Rangers’ leader used his outstretched arm to thump Talman in the chest.
“I don’t wanna hear it, Talman,” Henry snarled. “Clint’s right. And this ain’t a bad thing.”
Clint nodded quickly. “That’s for damn sure. The best fight you can get into is with someone who’s too confident for their own good.”
“Too bad they
had to earn that confidence through so many folks getting killed,” Bower said.
Turning toward the younger Ranger, Clint said, “I’d have to agree. I passed through a town not too far west of here. Is that the closest one?”
“No,” Barkley said. “There’s another one due north. Actually, it may be about the same distance as the one you’re thinking of.”
“Then let’s split up,” Henry suggested. “Me, Clint, Bower and Dave will head west. The rest of you boys head north.”
When Clint heard that other name mentioned, he glanced over at the other Texas Rangers who’d been content to hang back and stay quiet. Those two glared right back at him, making it obvious why they’d stayed quiet and out of Clint’s sight. Apparently, Henry was a man who liked to cover himself when he took a gamble on a new addition to his group.
“Actually,” Clint said, “maybe some of you should stay here.”
Clint figured that suggestion wouldn’t go over too well with all the Rangers, and he was right.
Talman looked as if he was about to bust out of his skin. “Oh, that sounds like a fine idea. You sure you want to let this one tag along, Henry?”
Although Henry didn’t join in with Talman right away, he did look at Clint with more than a little expectation in his eyes. “Go on, Clint,” Henry said. “I’m listening.”
“I’ve tracked down a lot of killers over the years,” Clint explained. “I’ve even gotten to know a few of them.”
“Jesus Christ,” Talman muttered. “Here we go.”
“If the killers who started these fires are doing the same thing everywhere they go, they’ve got to be doing it on purpose. Even animals don’t just attack whatever crosses their path. There’s rhyme and reason.”
Talman shook his head and spat on the ground. “This sounds like the biggest pile of horse shit I’ve ever heard.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Barkley said.
It seemed the tracker’s stern tone carried plenty of weight among the Rangers, because not even Talman was anxious to go against him.
Taking advantage of the opening he’d been given, Clint continued. “A killer may not be right in the head, and I’d say that’s got to be the case here, but they’ve still got their reasons.”
“So why stay here?” Barkley asked.
“Because these killers obviously like what they do,” Clint replied. “They take some pleasure in it, otherwise they wouldn’t keep killing this way. If they like setting these fires and are getting overly confident, they may just want to come back and soak this place in some more.”
“Fruits of their labors, huh?” Henry asked.
Clint pointed at the leader of the Rangers. “Exactly. You’ve got all these men with you, so you might as well put them all to work. That is, unless you think it’ll take all of us to get a look at those two towns.”
“It could be useful to have us all sifting through those towns . . .”
“Thank you,” Talman said victoriously.
Staring daggers at Talman, Henry went on to say, “. . . but I also think Clint’s right. It couldn’t hurt to leave a few of you here while we’re away. We’ve come this far, so it doesn’t make sense to pass up any opportunity we may get to catch these sons of bitches.”
“If you want me to stay so your men can head to town, I’d be more than happy to oblige,” Clint offered.
Henry didn’t need to ponder that for too long before shaking his head. “I think you may be more useful coming along with us. There’s more of a chance we’ll be seen in town, and I’ve gotten the feeling those killers have seen the faces of me and my men.”
“I’d bet on it,” Barkley said.
“You’re not one of my men, so the sight of you might not put the killers on their guard. Hopefully, they won’t find out you’re working with me.”
“So he’s working with us now?” Talman asked. “He gave us an opinion here and all, but he’s coming along for more?”
“Sure,” Henry replied. “If he doesn’t mind lending a hand.”
“I’ll see what I can do while I’m here,” Clint said.
Talman rolled his eyes and turned away from the others. “Great,” he mumbled. “Just great.”
EIGHT
Clint didn’t know exactly why Henry decided on taking him and Talman both into the northern town, but he could only assume it was to keep him where both he and Talman could see him. Either that, or Henry enjoyed listening to Talman spit insults at Clint whenever he wasn’t spitting brown juice onto the ground.
Bower went to the second town with one of the other Rangers who Clint didn’t recall saying much of anything. That left Barkley and Dave to find a spot near the burned shed where they could watch the charred remains without being seen.
While Clint might have preferred to be in one of the other groups, he supposed he could understand Henry’s reasoning. Since he was the unknown factor Henry was dealing with, it only made sense that he’d be under close supervision until he proved himself. Still, that didn’t mean Clint had to enjoy Talman’s company.
Clint had ridden through these parts enough times to know where the larger towns were and to have a good idea where some of the smaller ones could be found. He’d picked out a few little places as his personal favorites throughout the years, but the town he, Henry and Talman rode into this time didn’t fall into any of those categories.
The place wasn’t a large town. It wasn’t anywhere Clint had been to before, and it sure didn’t seem like it would be on his list for a return visit. As it was, he felt like doing what needed to be done and then putting it behind him.
“Well,” Talman grunted as he glanced in either direction upon entering the town. “This place looks like a hole in the ground.”
Clint chuckled. “Finally, there’s something we can agree on.”
“Yeah, well before you two get too cozy, I want us to split up,” Henry said. “I’d rather not be spotted by those killers if they’re here, and I surely don’t want them to see us and Clint riding together. That’d ruin what little bit of surprise we got working for us.”
“Agreed,” Clint said. “I see a hotel and a saloon up ahead. I’ll meet up with you at the saloon tonight after ten or so. That should give us some time to have a look around.”
Talman snapped his reins and tossed a quick wave over his shoulder. “Fine. Try not to get yourself burned up, Adams.”
With that, Talman and Henry moved on to leave Clint behind. The two Rangers tossed a few words back and forth, but their voices were too low for Clint to make out what was said. That suited him just fine, since he was glad to have some peace and quiet for a stretch.
With a subtle pull of the reins, Clint slowed Eclipse down to a leisurely stroll. He let the Darley Arabian mosey into town so the other two men could get well ahead of him. That way, Clint could get a better look at the town from his perspective. Hopefully, he could look at the place from someone else’s perspective as well.
The place was small, which meant no stranger would go unnoticed for very long. Of course, if someone was to get on a local’s good side quickly enough, he might be able to get some measure of protection that would make escaping much easier.
The town also seemed fairly easy to ditch if push came to shove. Along those same lines, a town that size probably didn’t have much by way of law. Most likely, there was some lawman who’d sat behind his desk for so many years that he didn’t even bother making his rounds every night. On the other hand, the law could be enforced by some young man who didn’t have much experience elsewhere. Either way, it was a good place for a killer to hide.
After seeing the remains of that shed and the bodies inside, Clint didn’t intend on letting that killer get too far.
“All right,” Clint said to himself as he gave Eclipse’s reins a snap. “Let’s see what we can see.”
He rode down what must have been the town’s main street. Henry and Talman must have taken full advantage of their head start, because they were
nowhere to be seen. Even though it had been less than a minute or so since he and Talman had parted ways, Clint was already feeling better.
Now the best he could hope for was to keep his ride with the rogue Texas Rangers as short as possible. That would mean putting these killers out of business as quickly as possible. After what he’d seen of the killers’ handiwork, Clint couldn’t get to work fast enough.
NINE
Sometimes, a town’s saloon was better than its newspaper. There were plenty of times when a town built several saloons before even considering starting up a printing press. This time, looking at the saloon’s front window was all Clint needed to do in order to find out where he was. The town’s name was Kipperway, and apparently it had been founded less than three years ago.
Stepping through the front door of the Kipperway Tavern, Clint felt like he’d stumbled into a whole other place entirely. Compared to the dead quiet of the street, the inside of the saloon was busting with life. The bar may have been crooked, but that was mostly because there were over a dozen men leaning against it. A piano player sent a wobbly tune through the air, and there was even a stage close to the front door. All in all, Clint had to admit he was impressed.
“Good day to you, sir,” the lanky fellow behind the bar shouted. His voice cut through the noise like a knife and was colored by a thick Irish accent. “What brings you to my little tavern?”
“Nothing in particular,” Clint said. “But I’m glad I found this place.”
“And I’m glad to have ya. You care for a beer? I brewed it myself.”
“Sure.”
Clint didn’t have to wait long for a mug to be brought to him. Once it was set down in front of him, he took a sip and was surprised for the second time in as many minutes.
“Damn,” Clint said. “That’s really good. You brewed this?”
“Sure did. An old family recipe.” Leaning forward, the bartender gave Clint a nudge and a wink as he whispered, “Actually, I worked it out myself a week ago, but don’t tell anyone else that.”
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