The Sheriff of Silverhill

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The Sheriff of Silverhill Page 8

by Ericson, Carol


  “And you need to drive me back to the Shopco parking lot. My car’s still there. Sorry.” Her fingers danced along his knuckles.

  “I can take you to Auntie Mary’s and then get you out to Shopco tomorrow morning.” Or I can take you back to the guesthouse on the ranch and make hot, sweet love to you all night long.

  Her touch had ignited a fire in his belly, giving him crazy thoughts. He slanted a gaze her way to see if she noticed his pounding heart.

  “That’s out of your way. You need to be at the station tomorrow morning, and I need to meet Steve at his hotel. We have a conference with the Bureau in Denver.” She stretched out her legs, tilted back the seat and closed her eyes.

  Nope. She didn’t have a clue about his pounding heart or any other part of his anatomy.

  They drove in silence until they hit the Shopco parking lot. The police and FBI had deserted the crime scene, leaving four cones set up in a square with yellow police tape attached, which outlined the immediate crime scene. The authorities had already towed away Jacey’s car and Emmett’s guys would comb through it again tomorrow for any more evidence.

  The dark asphalt yawned in front of them, empty except for two cars they’d already checked out and cleared and Dana’s rental. Rafe pulled up next to Dana’s car.

  Her eyelids flew open as she hugged her purse to her chest. “We’re here already?”

  Rafe pushed open his door, ambled around to her side and opened the passenger door for her. She licked her lips and then unfolded her legs, exiting the car.

  After the earlier commotion and lights, an eerie hush had settled over the parking lot. Hunching her shoulders, Dana gripped her upper arms.

  Rafe hooked an arm around her waist, pulling her close. She rested her head against his chest while he smoothed her hair back from her face. She shivered and he wrapped his arms around her, inhaling her faded perfume like flowers crushed in a book.

  Weaving one hand through her silky hair, he gently pulled her head back, tilting her face toward his. Her ripe lips parted and that’s all the invitation he needed. He possessed her mouth with his own with a fierceness that had been building since the moment he caught sight of her.

  Her spine stiffened against his assault, and then her body arched against his, making contact along every line of his frame. Her lips moved beneath his kiss, her teeth nipping his lower lip as if to stake out her own claim.

  She entwined her arms around his neck, digging her fingernails into his shoulders. Punishing him for wanting her. Just like she punished him for loving her all those years ago.

  What had he done to make her run away? What excuse did any woman need to run away from Rafe McClintock, shallow party boy? He’d always been unlovable. Good for the short term but not much else.

  Dana dropped her arms and stepped back. “What’s wrong?”

  Rafe sucked in a breath. He hadn’t realized he’d stopped stroking her hair, stopped kissing her. “Nothing…I…”

  “You’re right.” She shook her head, waving her hands in front of her. “Someone committed a murder here over four hours ago, and we’re standing in almost the same spot making out. Stress does funny things to people.”

  Shoving his hands in his pockets, Rafe dropped his head. Nobody messed with his mind the way Dana did. God, he’d never win her back by playing the morose, moody cowboy. Women didn’t want depth from him. They wanted a good time.

  “Will you be okay to drive back to Auntie Mary’s?”

  She smiled a little too brightly. “Of course.”

  “I’ll check on you later.” He lifted his hand in a wave and slid onto the driver’s seat of the car.

  He hardened his jaw as he watched her climb into her rental. He had to have it out with her. He had to discover why she had broken it off. Had to discover why she had left him. Had to discover why she had stayed away all these years.

  Even if the discovery killed him.

  Chapter Seven

  “Idiot.” Dana spit out the word between clenched teeth as she pasted a phony smile on her face and waved at Rafe. Why had she chosen that particular time and place to succumb to her gooey feelings for the man? A crime scene didn’t give most women romantic thoughts. He probably pushed her away because he pegged her as some kind of weirdo or thrill-seeking junkie.

  She waited until Rafe started his engine before she pulled forward, the comforting sight of his headlights behind her. The murder, the disturbing aura of the parking lot, the questioning of Brice and, yeah, Belinda Mathers’s comment about Ronnie had chipped away at her resistance all night.

  When Rafe took her in his arms, all resolve melted. She still wanted him…but she could never have him. Not once he discovered she’d been keeping his child from him. Could he forgive her? Would he believe she only wanted to protect him? Would he understand her shame that despite her best efforts, she’d ended up just like her mother after all?

  “Weak, Dana,” she scolded herself aloud. What about all those intervening years? She’d graduated summa cum laude from Georgetown and finished near the top of her class at the FBI Academy. Her life bore no resemblance to Ronnie’s ramshackle existence, and Rafe was well out of his father’s sphere of influence by then.

  She’d kept loose tabs on Rafe’s life after Silverhill. She knew he’d moved to L.A. and lived the life of a carefree bachelor. A few of his buddies he’d kept in touch with had repeated some of his exploits in L.A. in tones of reverence and with a touch of envy. After hearing the stories, she hadn’t wanted to torpedo his glamorous lifestyle.

  “Pride.” She jumped at the sound of her own voice. Her mother didn’t have enough pride, and Dana overcompensated for that weakness by stuffing herself full of the seventh deadly sin.

  She pulled up to the stop sign and beeped her horn once as she made the left turn toward the reservation. Rafe peeled away from her, heading north toward the center of Silverhill and the McClintock ranch.

  She peered at the stretch of road illuminated by her headlights while she chewed on her bottom lip. She had to tell him about Kelsey before she left Silverhill. She’d wait until they caught the Headband Killer to avoid the distraction.

  She snorted. Rafe would view the fact that he had a nine-year-old daughter as more than a distraction.

  Several miles later, her headlights picked out a dark shape in the road and Dana laid on her horn to frighten the animal out of her path. When the animal didn’t budge, Dana slammed on her brakes and braced for an impact.

  Scrambling for purchase on the asphalt, her back tires squealed and the tail end of the car whipped sideways. Dana clutched the steering wheel, turning into the skid and easing off the brakes. As the car straightened its course, Dana pumped the brakes until the car huffed to a stop, diagonal across the road.

  She wheeled onto the shoulder, checked for her weapon and exited the car, clutching a flashlight. The smell of burning rubber and brake fluid assaulted her nose. The beam of her light played across the road in search of an injured animal. She hadn’t felt an impact, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t grazed some poor creature.

  The bushes at the side of the road rustled, and Dana spun around, her hand hovering over the gun in her shoulder holster.

  “Who’s there?” Remembering the night of the attack outside Auntie Mary’s house, chills raced along her flesh. He’d moved silently that night, immobilizing her.

  She yanked out her gun and trained it on the bushes. She’d be ready for him this time. He wasn’t going to pull that voodoo crap on her tonight.

  A soft breeze swirled through the air, caressing her skin. Her tense muscles relaxed as blackness engulfed her on all sides. She opened her mouth to protest this takeover of her senses, but the words remained lodged in her throat.

  The bushes stirred again. Dana’s gaze focused on a pair of golden orbs glowing in the night. Her gun dangled from limp fingers while the feral eyes mesmerized her.

  A hollow voice echoed in her head. “Is this how he did it? Is this how he trap
ped his victims?”

  A car engine roared in the distance, its headlights flooding the road. The animal disappeared and Dana sagged, her knees sinking to the ground.

  The car screeched to a stop and footsteps clumped on the asphalt. Dana felt weightless as strong arms lifted her from the ground and Rafe cradled her against his chest. She clung to his neck, sobbing into his shoulder, his warmth breaking the spell.

  “Are you all right? What happened?” His lips nestled against her hair. “Thank God I tried calling you.”

  After he’d settled her in the passenger seat of his squad car and bundled her in his jacket, he said, “What happened out there, Dana? Did you run out of gas? Did someone tinker with your car?”

  “N-no. It was an animal.”

  His brows shot up. “An animal?”

  She took a long pull from the bottle of water in his cup holder. “There was an animal in the road, and I swerved to avoid it. I wasn’t sure if I hit it or not, so I got out to look for it.”

  At his exasperated sigh, she held up her hands. She wasn’t going to allow him to berate her for not having her weapon handy this time. And this time she planned to tell him the truth.

  “I had my gun out. When I heard rustling in the bushes, I pointed my weapon at the noise, but…”

  “But what?” He’d grabbed her hand, which she hadn’t even noticed had started trembling.

  “Golden eyes.” She cleared her throat. “There was a pair of golden eyes staring at me. They hypnotized me, Rafe, immobilized me. Th-the same thing happened that night outside Auntie Mary’s place.”

  He swore and gripped her hand tighter. She stole a sideways glance at him and let out a pent-up breath. He didn’t look incredulous or scornful. Lines of worry creased his face and furrowed his brow.

  “Do you think this is our guy and he’s using some kind of magical spell to lure his victims?”

  A spiral of fear twisted in her gut. That’s exactly what had occurred to her, and yet…“He didn’t use a magical spell to lure Jacey. He used a very pragmatic text message.”

  “Maybe he’s saving the mumbo jumbo stuff for you.” Rafe squeezed his eyes shut. “Maybe he already knows about your gift, and he figures he has to fight fire with fire.”

  “I don’t know, Rafe. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I know who can make sense of it for us.” He cranked on the engine.

  Dana grabbed his forearm. “It’s almost five o’clock in the morning. We can’t wake Auntie Mary now.”

  He grimaced. “She’s already awake. On my way back to the ranch, I called your cell. When you didn’t answer, I called her house. She told me you weren’t home. That’s when I made a U-turn and came after you. I’m sure she’s wide awake now.”

  “My purse and cell are still in my car. I’ll drive back myself.”

  Rafe opened his mouth to protest and she landed a kiss on his scruffy chin. “You can follow right behind me. I promise I won’t pull over for any animals. I’ll just run right through them.”

  He snapped his mouth shut and grinned. “That’s my girl.”

  When Dana returned to her car, she snapped on her seat belt and called her great-aunt, who scolded her for driving alone. But when she and Rafe arrived at her small house, shining like a beacon, Auntie Mary hugged her hard enough to crack bones.

  “What happened? Not another attack?” Auntie Mary wrapped her shawl around narrow shoulders.

  “Not exactly.” Dana shot Rafe a glance and he nodded. “We want to ask you some questions about Southern Ute mysticism.”

  Auntie Mary quirked an eyebrow as she sank into her rocking chair by the fireplace. “You’ve come to the right place, but it’s been a long time since you asked me about the old stories, Dana. Why now?”

  As she settled on the carpet next to the rocking chair, Dana’s cheeks warmed at the accusatory tone of Auntie Mary’s voice. She hadn’t shown any interest in the gift of the Redbird family since childhood. The time had come to put aside her pride. Lives depended on it.

  “We think it might have something to do with these murders. The killer may be using magic or spells on his victims.”

  Auntie Mary closed her eyes and set her chair in motion. “Light the fire for me, Rafe. I have a chill in my old bones.”

  Rafe lifted his shoulders, and Dana jerked her thumb toward the fireplace and the wood stacked in the basket next to it. While Rafe lit the fire in the grate, Auntie Mary started to hum softly.

  The tune struck a resonating chord in Dana’s chest. She remembered Auntie Mary singing the Song of the Spirits to give thanks to the Ute spirits for the Redbird gift—the gift Dana had rejected. Until now.

  Rafe sat next to her on the floor in front of Auntie Mary as the fire blazed to life behind them. Dana hooked her arm through his for support as they watched Auntie Mary’s face, crisscrossed with lines of experience.

  The humming stopped and Auntie Mary drew in a long breath that seemed to infuse her with energy and life. She began to speak, her voice strong and vibrant. “The great Sanawahv, the creator of Ute life and land, imbued certain animals with particular powers—birds, coyotes, bears and the most powerful of all, the wolf.”

  Dana gasped and the hair on the back of her neck vibrated. Rafe ran his hand along her back, warmed by the fire and further by the heat of his touch.

  Auntie Mary opened her eyes and nodded. “Well, you should feel a connection to the wolf, Dana Redbird.”

  “I should?” Dana gulped as wisps of tales and legends floated through her mind.

  “As shamans, the wolf is our protector, our guidance.”

  “Protector?” She pressed her palms to her temples. “I thought he wanted to devour me.”

  Auntie Mary stopped rocking and gripped the arms of her chair. “Now it’s your turn to talk. Have you encountered a wolf spirit? How do you think the killer is using the Ute spirits? They wouldn’t allow it, especially the wolf.”

  Rafe clasped Dana’s hand while she told Auntie Mary about the attack outside her house where she heard the growl of an animal and saw his eyes. She also explained what happened earlier with the creature in the road and the golden orbs glowing in the bushes.

  “So I figured the wolf had something to do with the killer, that somehow the killer was using the wolf to cast spells on these girls, to cast a spell on me.” As she finished, Dana slumped against Rafe and he curled his arm around her shoulder.

  Auntie Mary tapped her chin and stared into the fire. “The wolf is protecting you, Dana. He appeared when someone attacked you outside.”

  “But the attacker immobilized me. He had some kind of power over me.”

  “He might be attempting some kind of sorcery, which would anger the spirits, especially the wolf who protects the shamans.”

  “Why did the wolf appear tonight? Scared the stuffing out of me. That’s not protection.” She gave an exaggerated shiver, and Rafe pulled her even closer.

  “Perhaps he’s warning you.” Auntie Mary lifted her shoulders. “Perhaps he wants something from you. Do you have something to offer?”

  Dana dropped her chin to dodge her aunt’s piercing gaze. “You know I don’t use those powers, wouldn’t know where to start.”

  Gripping her cane, Auntie Mary hauled herself from the rocking chair and Rafe jumped up to assist her.

  “Now that the sun’s up, I’m going back to bed for a few hours.” Auntie Mary shook off Rafe’s hand. “Don’t fear the wolf, Dana. Don’t fear your powers.”

  When her aunt closed the bedroom door, Dana puffed out a sigh between pursed lips.

  “Do you believe all that?” Rafe reached out and massaged her shoulders, easing the knots in her muscles.

  “On an intellectual level? No. But on a gut-wrenching, been there done that, had the trance level? Yeah.”

  “So the wolf you thought you saw…” He raised his hands when she sputtered. “Sorry. The wolf you saw is protecting you.”

  “Don’t stop.” She rolled her sho
ulders, and Rafe resumed his massage with a grin. “Auntie Mary knows her stuff. If she says the wolf protects the Ute shamans, I believe it.”

  “What was he protecting you from on the road? Do you think the killer was following you or watching you? Maybe he was trying to protect you from me.” He bared his teeth and growled.

  Dana snorted. Nothing and nobody could protect her from Rafe McClintock. The way her brain turned to mush every time he touched her proved that. “I don’t think the wolf was protecting me this time. I didn’t feel the same terror I did during the attack—just that scary feeling from the mind control.”

  “Why did he appear?”

  She scooped in a deep breath, the relaxation from Rafe’s massage seeping away. “I think he was trying to communicate with me. When you drove up, you broke the spell, halted the trance.”

  “What do you think he wanted, a recommendation for a good rabbit stew?”

  Dana knocked his hands away. “This isn’t funny, Rafe. Why do you have to turn everything into a joke?”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He cupped her face in his large hands and ran his thumb along the clenched line of her jaw. “I can see you’re getting tense again and I wanted to diffuse the situation. Tell me what you think.”

  She dropped her lashes as her cheeks warmed. She’d always been too hard on Rafe. She hadn’t had enough confidence in him. She’d dismissed him as a lightweight simply because he was always the life of the party, never understanding that his buoyant mood and party-boy image hid a wounded heart, a boy abandoned by his mother and desperate to hold on to the family he had left.

  She knew she could trust the man before her now. She owed him that. And so much more.

  “I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Her fingers traced the grooves of his knuckles. “I think this wolf spirit is telling me I have the power to unmask a killer. I felt it in the parking lot, Rafe. I told you Jacey called out to me, but it’s not just Jacey. It’s all the girls. They need justice.”

  “What do you plan to do about it?” He grabbed her hands.

  “I’m going to give it to them.”

 

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