Jessup took a pipe from the top drawer of his desk. He struck a stick match from the sole of his boot and lit the contents of the bowl. "He was gone a day before he was scheduled to leave. Didn’t say a thing, just left. I guess he never made it to New Mexico though."
"That’s strange," Laura commented.
"Not really. He hated this place--said it wasn’t civilized enough for him."
The encroachment of shadows dimmed the light that streamed from the open windows, reminding Laura that it was getting late. She stood up. "Is there a motel in Brantic City?"
Jessup arched one thick brow. "You haven’t been to Brantic City yet?"
Laura shook her head. "No, I drove around forever trying to get here, but I didn’t run across any towns."
There it was again, that deep throaty laughter. "Brantic City isn’t much more than a ghost town. The only thing you’ll find there is a combo restaurant-saloon, a little store, and maybe a few year-around residents, but not many. The closest real town is Acton and it’s nearly forty miles away."
"So where do all the employees stay?" Laura was not feeling good about this information.
"I stay here and most of the others stay in the camp trailers they brought with them. I do recall hearing that the owners of the saloon rent out a few cabins here and there. They are expensive though. If you are lucky, maybe the one Mitchell was renting is still vacant." He seemed amused by her sudden distress.
"Are there any alternatives if it isn’t?" She was really becoming worried now.
"Not really. This place is littered with ghost towns left over from the gold rush days, but that’s about it."
"How do I find the saloon?"
"Get on that dirt road out front and go south for about a mile. It will take you right into the middle of Brantic City; the saloon will be right there on your right. Talk to Olivia Lambert."
"Thanks, I’ll see you later." Laura flung the words over her shoulder as she was heading for the door.
"Be here bright and early come morning."
* * * *
The saloon was deserted except for the woman behind the bar and a straggly old man who occupied one of the stools. Their conversation came to a sudden halt as soon as Laura entered the room.
"Can I help you?" The woman behind the bar appeared to be in her late forties. Her dark hair was done in a style outdated twenty years.
"Yes, where can I find Mrs. Lambert?" Laura walked up to the bar and slid onto one of the stools.
"That would be me." Curiosity flashed in the woman’s gray eyes.
"I was told you rent cabins. I’m Laura Ellison and I work for the Duccini Corporation." Laura offered the woman a smile. "I just got in from New Mexico today and I need a place to stay for a while."
"Well ... the one Dan Mitchell rented is still open but I'd have to charge you a deposit. I usually don’t, but that man left without paying for the last three days of rent that he was there." The woman pulled a sour face.
"That’s unusual. The company reimburses all our expenses. It would serve no purpose for him to skip out on it."
"All I know is that I got cheated out of three days of rent and I could have easily have gotten tourist dollars for that time."
"How much does it rent for?"
"Two-hundred and fifty dollars a week and I’ll have to have at least a hundred dollar deposit." Mrs. Lambert spoke firmly, letting Laura know that there would be no negotiations.
"That’s outrageous!" Laura exclaimed. This was probably why Mitchell had skipped. The company would never reimburse the whole amount.
"We’re in the tourist business. It’s the only real way to make money out here." Olivia Lambert’s smile was cold.
The old man had been listening to the exchange. He now moved down the bar and took the stool next to Laura.
"Little gal, it would be best for you all the way around if you just stayed in Acton and drove here to your job."
Laura was immediately assaulted by the strong odor of whiskey. The man had a full gray beard and short cropped hair. Laura smiled to herself--astonished at how much he resembled a character out of an old western movie.
"Why is that, Mister...?" She waited for him to reveal his name, but it was not forthcoming.
"Duccini isn't too well liked in these parts and now they’ve gone and stirred up those Indians. You people are just asking for trouble and no doubt you’ll be bringing trouble to the rest of us too." He took a swig from the bottle he held clasped in one hand.
"It’s the twenty-first century, sir. Generally speaking Indians no longer go on the war path." Laura was beginning to feel irked by all the prejudice against Indian people that she had discovered rather quickly in the area.
"Little gal, the Sungmanitu are not your everyday Indians." He picked up his bottle and found his way to the door on feet that were none too steady.
"Don’t mind him none, he spends too much time in his grandfather’s old mine. I don’t think he’s found much of anything in years, but he’s a stubborn old fool." Mrs. Lambert was busy wiping down the bar with a wet rag--she appeared to be very nervous.
"What did he mean about the Sungmanitu?"
Oh, they’re just an odd bunch. They keep to themselves mostly."
Laura swore she could detect just the slightest hint of secrecy in the woman’s eyes. Her grandfather’s warning jumped to the front of her mind and she shivered with a sudden chill.
* * * *
The sinking sun that was gradually dipping into the horizon set the landscape on fire with a red-orange glow. Laura drove with her windows down, taking advantage of the cool evening breeze.
She had just turned onto the Beaver Creek road when the engine began to sputter and the Bronco jerked, nearly stalling. Laura pushed down on the accelerator giving the engine more gas, but it only sputtered once more before dying.
She let the Bronco coast to the side of the road.
"Damn! Not again!" The gas gage read three-quarters full, so it certainly was not out of fuel. This was the third time it had acted up since her incident on the highway in Arizona.
She tried turning the key--it cranked but stubbornly wouldn't start. The last time this had happened was in Rock Springs, and it had taken her hours to get the engine to start. Laura was very tempted to walk the remaining distance to the cabin, but her weary body protested at even the thought.
Disgusted, she leaned her head against the steering wheel and closed her eyes. The Bronco would definitely need to go in the shop, but she needed it to last at least until she made it home to New Mexico.
Her eyes burned from lack of sleep and she thought that if she could just close her heavy eyelids for a moment, she could find the energy to try the ignition once more.
Laura blinked rapidly trying to see through the glaring light that seemed to be searing right through the universe and into core of her brain.
The light dimmed and Laura found herself sprawled upon her large bed at home, her red satin sheets like whispers on her skin. She could sense that someone was with her--his gentle fingers caressing her stomach. There was a sensation of hot breath against her skin.
Sharp teeth nipped at her aroused nipples, sending ripples of erotic pain through her trembling body. Wherever his lips and fingers came into contact with her skin he left a trail of burning desire--building a need within her that took her over the edge of rational thought.
Laura entered the waking world with a start, unable to believe that she had fallen asleep so quickly. Judging by the sun’s lack of descent, Laura thought she must have only been asleep for a few minutes. What had woken her?
It was then that her conscious mind caught the rumbling sound of a motorcycle in the distance. She raised her head to peer into the rearview mirror. A cloud of dust was moving fast in her direction. Laura felt herself tense when the bike pulled up beside her.
A quick glance in her side mirror brought her to the conclusion that the Indian on the bike was most likely one of the Beaver Creek people. She was definitely
not in the position of advantage, and in her job it was not good to start out vulnerable. Laura got out of her car and right away felt herself pushed into an even worse situation.
Flashing a perfect smile, he got off his bike and walked to where she was standing. "You having problems?"
Where had she heard that voice before? A certainty came to her that she knew this man. She was finding it almost impossible to tear her eyes from him.
He moved with the grace of an animal. His tall frame towering over her, Laura had to tilt her head to look into his face. From what she could tell, he was very handsome, possessing the well defined features of the Plains Indians, but his eyes remained a mystery hidden behind dark sunglasses. Long, black hair fell in waves to the middle of his back, curling slightly at the ends.
"It stalled and doesn’t seem to want to start at all." Laura unconsciously ran her fingers through her tangled mass of golden-brown curls.
"Mind if I take a look?" His words came out in a slow, relaxed drawl.
She hesitated only a moment before reaching in to pull the hood release. After raising the hood, he reached inside and began poking around. Laura watched, but could not begin to figure out what he was doing. It was a few minutes before he returned his attention to her.
"Try it now," he told her with a smile that seemed to touch her in a way that she could not identify.
Laura slid behind the wheel and turned the key. At first it just cranked, but then the engine came to life with a sick choking sound. He shut the hood and walked over to her window.
"You are having some carburetor trouble. Fuel pump might be going out, too. If I were you, I'd get that fixed soon. There are too many lonely roads around here for you to break down on."
Laura smiled. "Thank you Mister...." Laura realized she didn't know his name. It seemed odd that it had slipped her mind to ask him before she let him work on the car. This was something that was totally out of character for her.
"My name is Justin. I live up the road near Beaver Creek." He offered her his hand through the open window.
Laura placed her hand in his, noticing how small it was in comparison. "Laura Ellison. I’ll be staying at the Lambert’s cabin for a while. Do you know if it is close by?"
When her skin came into contact with his, she experienced a sensation so strange that the only thing she could think to compare it to was the tingle one felt when they came into contact with a small electrical current. She pulled her hand away much too quickly.
He either didn't notice or pretended not to. "Yeah, it’s up the road, not too much further. Take the first road to your left." Justin leaned further down until he was resting one arm on the Bronco’s door.
Laura was much too aware of the well-developed muscles in his large arms and she was finding it hard to shift her eyes from the blue tank top which was stretched taut against his broad chest. From out of nowhere, an almost instinctive urge came over her and she wanted to touch his flesh. No not just want to--it was more like she needed to. His musky scent filled her with visions of a very carnal nature. It took a much greater effort than she was willing to admit, but she was finally able to push back the images.
Abruptly, Laura came back to herself, and with her returning senses was bafflement at what exactly had taken hold of her. It was not like her at all to fill her head with fantasies of a complete stranger.
"Thank you, Justin." Laura forced a certain amount of chill into her voice in the hopes of convincing herself that she really had no interest in this man.
Justin smiled; it was if he knew what her thoughts had been and he found them very amusing. "I’m sure I will be seeing you around, Miss Ellison."
Laura forced her eyes to look straight ahead until she heard the bike roar to life. He shot forward and was gone. When he was no longer in sight, Laura felt a hollow relief. At least she had learned one thing from this encounter, if Justin was any example of the others, then they were hardly what one would call hostile. Obviously Duccini and the town’s people had a severe case of over-reaction.
But still, she was left with the strangest feeling that she knew him from somewhere, but that was impossible. An unidentified fear left a swarm of butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
Laura found the cabin with no trouble. For some time, she sat in her car and studied the place that she was being drastically overcharged for. It appeared ancient in the fading light and somewhat foreboding and the surrounding aspen grove lay in murky darkness.
With a sigh brought on by fatigue, Laura retrieved her luggage and carried it to the front door. She found it secured with an old, rusty padlock. Laura fumbled with the key hoping it would indeed open the lock. Luckily the lock had been opened recently and turned with no problem. The door creaked as it swung open and Laura was met by thick darkness.
Laura blindly made her way through the room until coming to a lamp. She switched it on and the room was filled with the dim glow of false light. The living room that she had stepped into appeared to be sparsely furnished with what looked to be very valuable antiques. A large stone fireplace took up one whole wall, but it was summer and she would most likely not need it.
Satisfied that her accommodations would do, Laura retrieved her bags from the living room and began to unpack. Pulling open the top drawer she was startled to see that it was full of men’s underclothes. Puzzled she checked the rest of the drawers and found that they all contained clothes.
Laura checked the cabinet as well, and was not surprised when she found clothes hanging in it too. Judging from their size, she guessed that the clothes were Mitchell’s.
Why had he left without his clothes?
Had he ever left? The unbidden thought crept into her head, filling her with apprehension. Laura was becoming queasier about this Beaver Creek job by the minute.
Somewhere out in the darkness a wolf howled and a tingling sensation crawled across her skin.
Chapter Three
As soon as she walked through the door, Laura opened all the windows, hoping to air out the musty odor which plagued the office. She took several bottles of cleaning agents from a paper sack and went to work.
It was just before lunch when Jessup finally made his appearance. He was covered from head to toe in Wyoming dust when he came through the door.
"Hello." Laura climbed down from the stool she had been standing on while cleaning the windows.
He mumbled something totally inaudible as he walked through the office and down the hall to the restroom. Laura heard the water running along with a few loud curses. She bit at her bottom lip, wondering what on earth could be wrong with him today.
He was drying his face with a small hand towel when he came back into the office. Mindless of Laura’s work, he tossed the wet towel onto his freshly cleaned desk.
Jessup’s expression was grim when he finally spoke to her. "Had two more men run off last night."
"What do you mean?"
"They’re just gone. They didn’t show up this morning and now we’re short again."
"Hmm." Laura continued biting her lip.
"You’ll be needing to get us some more men." Jessup plopped into the chair behind his desk.
"I’ll get on it right after lunch."
"Just make sure you get someone here. I don’t intend to spend all day tomorrow in the field." A slight smile brightened his weary face. "It’s days like today that let a body know when they have made it over the hill."
Laura returned his smile and nodded. Abruptly her dilemma the night before jumped into her thoughts. "Why would Mitchell leave all his clothes behind?"
Jessup was clearly startled by her question. "I don’t know. Why do you ask?"
"I’m renting the cabin that he occupied while he was here, and last night when I went to unpack I found all his clothes still there. It’s as if he never left."
Jessup leaned back in his chair and stared out the window, contemplating what she had just told him. "Maybe it’s time we go to the police?" His grim mood was ev
ident in his voice.
"What do you think could have happened to him?" Laura’s eyes mirrored her nervousness.
"Don’t know, but I’ve had a gut feeling all along that Dan wasn’t doing things on the straight and narrow with this deal. It’s possible he may have had to get out in a hurry."
Laura smiled, attempting to reassure herself as much as him. "I’ll make a trip to Acton to check on the temp services ... if you’ll be kind enough to have lunch with me in that wonderful little saloon in Brantic City." Laura didn’t relish her time alone as of late and having Jessup’s company for a while would be pleasantly refreshing.
* * * *
The duo occupied a corner table in the dimly lit saloon. Laura savored each bite of the barbequed meat and potato salad, the house special that she had ordered. Using a paper napkin, Laura wiped away a trace of sauce from her mouth and resisted the impulse to order more.
Laura let out a deep sigh of regret. She had found it too easy to overindulge in the past few weeks.
"Girl, you really must have been hungry," Jessup commented.
Laura smiled. "My appetite has gotten out of hand lately. It must be all the fresh air here."
"That ... and hard work will do it to you." He shoved the last bite of salad into his mouth.
The brassy sound of a bell alerted them of someone entering the building. Laura’s breath caught in her throat when her eyes fell on the man who came through the door. His mere presence filled the room with some form of vibrant power--at least that is what Laura’s senses were picking up.
Though he was nowhere near their table, she found herself to be overwhelmed by his nearness.
Justin removed the shield of his mirrored glasses and seemingly took in everything with scarcely a glance. His eyes rested on Laura for only a fraction of a second. It was the only sign he gave of recognition.
In that short span of time, Laura felt those odd colored eyes pull at something buried deep inside her. They were the darkest eyes she had ever seen, but with a strange golden sheen in them which lent the illusion containing a light of their own.
Wolf Dance Page 2