Shadow Canyon (A Coyote Wells Mystery Book 2)

by Vickie McKeehan

  Snatching up her toothbrush, she thought about taking the car and driving to Lando’s beach house, but decided it was too much trouble to navigate what was left of the festival traffic. “Better to walk and give Rufus plenty of exercise so the jaunt will run some energy out of him.”

  Her cell phone trilled with a text message from Lando.

  Will be wrapping things up in about an hour. I’ll pick up a couple of Leia’s stir-fry dinners and meet you at the house.

  Sounds good. Are you exhausted?

  Not for what I have planned.

  She sent him a smiley face back. Good to know the teddy I bought won’t go to waste.

  What color?

  Black.

  Maybe I’ll let Payce wrap things up and see you in about thirty.

  She sent him another smiley face. Be careful. And got the same response she always got when she used those two words.

  I’m always careful.

  Sometimes she worried about his cockiness on the job. She supposed all law enforcement types had to show an over-confidence in their work. But sometimes she thought Lando’s brash demeanor included too much swollen ego. Not that he was careless in the way he handled himself. A testament to that was the takedown of Rance McIntire and his cohort, Smitty Bernal. After all, Lando had gotten the savvy mob-type to flip on the entire organization, bringing down the head honcho, Marshall Montalvo. A feat that had not gone unnoticed by the entire county. Even the sheriff had tried to recruit him. But Lando had turned down the job offer, opting to stay put in Coyote Wells.

  It was a decision that had Gemma breaking out into a happy dance.

  She and Rufus reached Lando’s beach bungalow around six. She shoved the key Lando had given her into the lock and entered a narrow vestibule with a table for keeping track of keys, loose change, and wallets.

  She realized now this was the perfect place to unwind after the stress of the last three days, the perfect place to forget about facing a massive clean-up task beginning Monday morning, and dealing with the aftermath of a festival that always brought too many hijinks from the teenagers and too much vandalism from people who just liked to make trouble. Tonight, they could shelve any thoughts about that and simply relax.

  Looking around the living room reminded her why Lando loved this place. He was steps away from the soothing sound of the sea, the sugary sand, and the enormous breadth of a blue horizon that seemed to stretch on and on.

  Warm beachy colors greeted her as soon as she headed toward the bedroom to put her stuff away. Soft peach-painted walls accented a room with leather furniture and cherry woods. The open dining room snapped to cooler, watery blues that reminded Gemma of an Easter dress she’d worn for Sunday service as a kid.

  In the kitchen, a bank of windows bathed the room in radiant hues of soft yellow and mint green. The entire house brought to mind those summery, buttery days of June that ended in spectacular sunsets dipping across the golden sky as twilight gave way to nightfall.

  She stepped out on the front porch and understood why he didn’t want to give this place up. The view alone was worth the real estate. And when she spotted his police cruiser pulling up in the driveway, her face broke out in a wide grin.

  The love of her life stood six-two, a tall drink of water with soulful coffee-colored eyes and a mischievous grin. He held up a bag of food from his family’s restaurant, Captain Jack’s Grill. “No stir-fry on Sunday nights but Leia assures me the pot roast is tender and the potatoes and carrots cooked to perfection.”

  “I’m pretty much starving so I’d eat anything in that bag, good or bad. Were you as busy as you were the first day?”

  Lando swiped a hand through his hair. “The first day was nothing compared to today. Fights broke out up and down Water Street over stupid stuff, people were drunk and disorderly at the beach, and I don’t know how many calls we took about disturbing the peace. And then I had to stop Silas Macon’s boy from spray-painting graffiti on the side of the bank building. He’s ten years old. Maybe next year I should think about taking on another patrol officer.”

  “Maybe you should make a point this fall when the school year starts up again to visit that boy’s fifth-grade class, wearing your uniform, and explain the downside to graffiti. Explain that if he wants to paint something he should begin with something like a mural. Maybe start with that ugly, empty warehouse near the wharf, paint the entire side in his favorite color. That would spruce up that whole block.”

  “You’re a nut, you know that?”

  “So I’ve been told. I’m thinking about taking music lessons, maybe the piano.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “If I’m standing on stage singing with your group…”

  “Our group,” Lando corrected. “Fortitude is glad to have you part of the band.”

  “Okay, our group, then I should know more than I do about music. All of you play an instrument. I know the lyrics, I can sing, but I don’t think that’s enough.”

  “You’re really getting into this.” He spotted the token dangling from a chain around her neck. “What’s that?”

  “This? Don’t you recognize a medicine bag? It’s a gift from Paloma. She handed this to me before the festival started. I wear it along with my turquoise necklace. These make me feel…like I belong to something greater than myself. My new grandmother has been very generous with her time, explaining so much about my native heritage. But you know what’s odd? The minute the conversation seems to reach a point where she has more to add about my father, she changes the subject, like it’s too painful to go on. I haven’t pushed her for details. I wish I could’ve gotten to know him, even briefly. I wish he hadn’t died in that car accident.”

  “Do you really think Michael would’ve left his wife to marry your mother?”

  “No. No, I don’t. But I think I could have eventually been part of his life had he lived. At least I like to think so. Did you ever have time to dig out the photos of his car accident like I asked?”

  “Not yet. But I will. I haven’t had time to sit at my desk for three days.”

  She held onto the medicine bag, a small pouch made from deerskin and decorated with tiny ornamental beads. “Well, I’m Hokan now, or at least half.” She noted the look of disapproval on his face. “I remember a time when we were kids when you carried a medicine bag around wherever you went. It meant something to you back then.”

  “A young, naïve kid doesn’t know any better than to carry a talisman around for luck. It gives you a false sense of confidence. It leaves you unprepared when the rug is likely to be pulled out from under you by someone you know, quickly, without any feeling.”

  Gemma flinched, believing he was referring to their short-lived marriage and the hurt he’d felt after she left. “If I had a part in changing the way you feel about that, I’m sorry.”

  “You didn’t. Or not much. It’s my cop mentality now. I’m harder to convince about most everything, more so than putting faith in a bunch of power stones or totems.”

  “Yukians are skeptics. And stubborn.”

  Lando cocked a brow. “You’ve known you were Hokan for what, a month, less than that? Try embracing it for a longer period of time than that. Try relying on your new medicine bag for power. It doesn’t afford you good luck any more than that turquoise stone you wear around your neck.”

  “How can you say that? I found Sandy Montalvo’s remains, didn’t I?”

  “Not criticizing the way you did that or solved your grandmother’s murder, or Collette’s, or Marnie’s. But thinking your necklace is a source of all-seeing power is…”

  She poked him in the ribs. “Be careful how you describe that.”

  Lando chuckled. “Maybe I won’t. The way it turned out made me go back and take a second look at all my old unsolved cases.”

  “Really? Why? I didn’t do it by myself. I had help. And you’re the one who got Bernal to confess. Without that…”

  “Yeah, but you’re the one who uncovered the critica
l pieces of evidence. I give you credit for all of it coming together like it did. You’re the one who was able to ID McIntire and Bernal in the first place and put them at the scene of the dump site. Which brings me to what I’m getting at. I still have five very thin folders sitting in a dingy little file cabinet mocking me and gathering dust. Each one is left over from the days when Caulfield reigned supreme and didn’t solve any of those cases.”

  “But what could I do?”

  “Look over the case files. There aren’t that many things in there that lead to a suspect. Just a thinly-veiled police report and an autopsy done by the county. One is still a Jane Doe.”

  “Never identified? That’s so sad. Are you still thinking about charging Caulfield with obstruction in Mrs. Montalvo’s murder?”

  Lando shook his head. “I ran it by the district attorney. Caulfield bragged that the DA wouldn’t touch it. Turns out, Caulfield was right. The prosecutor said no. Pisses me off.”

  “But if you could find another case that Caulfield mishandled and maybe colluded on for money, you’d have a stronger case to take to the prosecutor. That would change things.”

  Lando smiled. “Exactly.” He shifted in his chair and opened the drawer of the hutch behind him and pulled out a ring box frayed at the edges.

  “Oh, my God. Is that what I think it is?”

  Lando held out the silver ring with a moonstone setting. “When you left, you took this off. I found it on the kitchen counter. I don’t even know why I kept it. I was cleaning out my closet the other day looking for my extra service weapon and came across it in the bottom of one of the cartons. I don’t see any reason after all these years you shouldn’t have it back.”

  She threw her arms around his neck. “I thought my wedding ring was lost forever. I thought you’d probably have thrown it away by now.”

  “Oh, I thought about it. I guess I kept hoping one day you’d come back.”

  She held out her left hand for him to slip it on her ring finger. “You found this stone in Shadow Canyon when we were thirteen. Remember that? You gave it to me while we were sitting on a rock, scarfing down bologna and cheese sandwiches. We were on a rock hunt. Remember all those scavenger hunts we took out there? You told me it was too girly for you to keep in your medicine bag. When I got home that night, Gram looked at it and told me it was from mother moon, a sign of feminine power and healing.”

  She took his head in both hands, forcing him to gaze into her eyes. “Gram said it also stood for love, strong and enduring. That’s why the day you asked me to marry you, I ran home to get this and told you I wanted this for my wedding ring.”

  Lando nodded, a little embarrassed at the reminder of how sentimental he’d been back then. “I took it to the jeweler in town and he helped me pick out a band that would be worthy of it.”

  “Solid silver.” She looked down at her hand and sighed. “I can’t believe you kept it all these years. Thank you.” She kissed him lightly on the lips and wasn’t surprised when he deepened the kiss.

  Lando backed her up toward the hallway. Heat merged with urgency. “We can eat later, nuke the food in the microwave.”

  “I’m all for that.”

  They fell asleep after they made love and woke at nine to the boom of fireworks. Rufus reacted to the noise with a whine and a whimper and scooted under the bed.

  “I don’t want to miss the fireworks,” Gemma muttered as she lunged for her clothes.

  Lando grabbed for her hand and missed. “I’d better stay here with Rufus. You should stay, too.”

  Laughing, she tried to pull him out of bed. “Come on, get up. It’ll be like it was when we were kids, dangling our feet off the pier, looking up in the sky and guessing which color will pop up next.”

  “But…it feels…so…good…not moving from this spot.”

  “All right, I’ll watch by myself.” She pulled on her shorts and her top and headed for the front porch. Leaning against the railing, she gaped in awe when the bursts of light blasted the night sky and then floated down, scattering over the water like giant fireflies. Like kisses that exploded in passion, the moment was far too brief. Like a waterfall that cascaded in streams of scarlet, silver, or sapphire, the lightshow evaporated. Like an array of fast-moving shooting stars.

  Lando wrapped his arms around her from behind and whispered in her ear, “Gotcha.”

  She leaned her body against his. “I know you’re tired, but I was so looking forward to this.”

  Lando nipped her neck. “I know. I forgot how much you get a kick out of it.”

  “I think it’s magical. Remember our trip to Disneyland, senior year? The light parade, the music, the buildup, followed by the spectacular fireworks show? I felt like a little girl again.”

  “I prefer you all grown up.”

  “So I noticed. I suppose it is silly for a grown woman to get such a thrill out of something so…childish. Want a beer? We should eat.”

  “Eat and go back to bed.”

  They enjoyed the food, and soon after enjoyed each other again before falling asleep, exhausted.

  Gemma heard whining and sat straight up in bed. The nice dream she’d been having faded---people who took her seriously as a psychic were asking her to solve murders. The FBI, those gray-suited agents who like to make fun, were begging for her help.

  Instead of going back to sleep, she heard a female voice in her head. Unwilling to ignore the shaman’s words, echoing like a loop, she was forced to listen to Kamena. One of three mystical shamans who would supposedly enter her life and set her on a quest of knowledge and power, Kamena, the giver of visions, had been the first to confirm she had the gift of sight. You must seek and gather potent medicine, the more medicine you gather, the more powerful your gift and ability will become.

  Gemma gripped the pendant she wore around her neck, the one made from the turquoise stone she’d found in the waters at Mystic Falls, and glanced down at the wedding ring on her left hand. Zeroing in on her ring finger, the moonstone glowed in the dark. Lando had found the strange-looking rock in Shadow Canyon during one of their teenage misadventures. Now she wondered if this could be the gift from Aponivi, the holder of truth, the shaman who appeared as a powerful dervish often seen winging his way between canyon walls.

  She was about to grab her phone and make herself a note to set up another meeting with Callie Lightfeather when she heard the whining again.

  Rufus.

  Snuggled under the covers, reluctant to move, she tried to ignore that pitiful sound, but it was no use. After the third whimper she couldn’t take it any longer and tossed back the comforter.

  She looked over at Lando, who’d always been a sound sleeper, and noticed he hadn’t so much as moved at the noise.

  Eyeing the dog, dancing in place by the door, clenching his favorite toy between his teeth, Gemma tugged on her shorts and pulled on the first thing she could reach---one of Lando’s sweatshirts.

  Scowling at the dog, she whispered, “Come on, before you have an accident in here and I have to clean it up. But make it quick. I’d like to get back to my dream. You know, the one where I’m an internationally famous, hugely successful psychic in demand all over the world, hired to solve their toughest cases. Even Interpol needs me.”

  With Mr. Monkey gripped between his teeth, Rufus looked skeptical.

  Gemma clipped his leash to his collar and led the way outside, trotting toward the beach at a fast pace.

  A full moon had taken center stage over the water. It emerged from behind a cluster of ivory clouds and hung suspended over the earth like a gigantic frosted-white Christmas ornament.

  Okay, maybe taking the dog out for a moonlit stroll wasn’t so bad after all. Getting up from a sound sleep to trek outside had its perks. The moon looked so close to the earth that she could all but reach up and run her fingers over the craters.

  In bare feet, her toes sank into the sand on the narrow slip of land designated as the dog park. Trying not to step in poop, she follo
wed the little paw prints Rufus left in the powdery grains of dirt and watched as he picked out the nearest tree, a twisted birch no more than a bush.

  The wind picked up, causing the feathery leaves to dance in the breeze.

  Rufus began to bark.

  “Shhhh,” Gemma said, cautioning him to be quiet. “We’re not trying to wake the neighbors.” But when he kept pulling on his leash to change direction, she knew something was up. “Why are you making such a fuss? Just do your business and let’s hurry back.”

  She tugged on his leash again and realized the pooch had now focused on something where the dunes were thickest. Maybe Rufus had picked up the scent of another dog. But there was no canine or anyone else in sight. By now it was two-thirty in the morning and they had the entire beach to themselves. But no matter how hard she pulled on his leash, Rufus wouldn’t budge or shut up. She slackened her grip. The dog took advantage and pulled her to the far edge of the water, near a channel known for its dangerous riptides.

  Gemma stopped in her tracks.

  The body of a woman was stretched out on the sand, lying on her back. Nude, her skin seemed translucent in the moonlight.

  Gemma jogged toward the dog in a rush, grabbing him by the collar right before Rufus reached the body.

  She sucked in a breath as she recognized that platinum blond hair. No one else in town had that same distinctive shade of silvery tresses.

  Frozen in shock, it took her several minutes before she could move, but move she finally did. She half-dragged, half-carried Rufus back to the dog park before breaking into a run to get back to the house.

  The minute she crossed the threshold, she called out for Lando. Running to the bed, she shook him hard to get him fully awake. It all gushed out in one nervous breath. “There’s a dead body on the beach. It’s Mallory Rawlins. She’s dead.”

  Lando sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “What? Who? Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. I had to take Rufus out for a pee break. We ended up on the beach. That stretch of sand where the tide comes in the strongest is where she’s…where she ended up. She’s all the way dead. And she’s not wearing any clothes.”