Authors: Mina Khan
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Women Sleuths, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Paranormal & Urban, #Sword & Sorcery
The editor grabbed a chip and dunked it into the salsa.
“People have long memories here, and a lot of them don’t look beyond the fact
that he’s a Callaghan.”
Before she could prod more, the waiter brought the ticket to
the table.
Lynn winced as she forced her feet back into her shoes. He paid
with an expense card and added a hefty tip for Paul.
Stepping into the sun again, Lynn glanced around but didn’t
see the vagrant. Hernandez set off at a trot, and she hurried to keep up with
him.
“Welcome to the
Herald
,” he said. “You can start with
the county commissioner’s meeting tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? On a Saturday?” Lynn stumbled.
“Yup, that was the only day all the commissioners could meet.
Our commissioners are real dedicated, especially around election time,” he
ended with a wink.
Lynn managed to nod and wobble along. Nothing like being
thrown into the river to learn to swim. Holy Freaking Wasabi.
Jack’s name had popped up too many times for comfort. Lynn
paced in her room, worrying a furrow into the carpet as she contemplated her
next move.
Check out Jack’s house. Without Jen. Sneaking around was
risky business and she didn’t want to get her friend in trouble.
She chewed her lower lip. Also, the way Jen had been gushing
about Jack told her she might not be open to the idea of him being a suspect.
Was she really not interested in the man?
Lynn’s unease multiplied as the hunky firefighter came to
mind. She rubbed her temples. Truth be told, Jack had been nothing but nice —tempting—
since they’d met and she felt like shit for suspecting him. However, she
couldn’t ignore the jack-booted march of goose bumps along her skin. Maybe
she’d find some kind of proof or clue that would settle the matter once and for
all.
She changed into her running clothes and shoes, then slipped
on her backpack, before hurrying to the kitchen.
Jen stood at the table picking up their dinner dishes.
“Where are you off to?”
“A run.” She took her plate to the sink. “Do you have a
water bottle I can borrow?”
“You just ate. Don’t you want to rest?”
Lynn rolled her shoulders. “No, a run should help work off
some of the calories.”
Jen shook her head and turned back to the dishes. “There’s
bottled water in the fridge.”
She grabbed one and slipped it into the backpack. “Want to
join me?”
“Eew, no.” Jen scrunched up her face. “I’m allergic to
exercise. Just get home before dark.”
Lynn waved and ran out the back door, smiling about Jen’s
reaction. Some things never changed. Thank goodness. She did a few jumping
jacks and stretches, then jogged toward Jack’s place. The rural road didn’t
come with sidewalks, but fortunately there was little traffic. She ran along
the bar ditch, checking out the new environment. The sweet smell of hay laced
her every breath and the chirping of birds accompanied her pounding feet. Lynn
relaxed as she slid into the familiar rhythm of the run.
Waves of anger reached out to her as she neared the Callaghan
ranch. While the exercise hadn’t winded her, the raw emotion did. She stood,
panting, and scanned the overgrown pasture between the rough road and Jack’s
house. Her glance danced over thorny bushes and cacti peeking out from the
overgrown grass, then the clumps of trees dotting the landscape. If she cut
through the pasture she’d have to watch her step, but she’d definitely be less
exposed.
Crouching, she pushed her way through, zeroing in on the
house. She ignored the poke and prickle of the underbrush and focused on the
feelings suffusing the atmosphere. Underneath the anger she caught the
lingering odor of dragon musk. Shoving away the dread thickening inside her,
she zig-zagged from one cluster of trees to the next.
Not seeing anybody, Lynn inched closer to the tree-shaded
alcove by Jack’s front door where she’d previously sensed the hidden presence.
She ducked behind the thicket of leaves and branches, ready to battle whoever
or whatever.
Emptiness greeted her. Her breathing eased, as she bent and
searched the ground. Scuff marks in the dirt obliterated whatever footprints
there’d been. A bit of white in the leafy ground cover under the window caught
her eye. Using her left foot, she toed leaves out of the way. Someone had
kicked several cigarette butts into the bushes.
Shit. A cigarette had caused the fire at Jen’s.
Lynn rummaged through her backpack until she found the pack
of tissues inside. The plastic crinkled loudly as she pulled a fresh one out.
Damn, she was as loud as a dragon in a china shop. She squatted and gingerly
picked a few of the cigarettes up with the tissue, brought it close to her
nose. Stale odor of smoke, fading anger and dragon musk.
Slipping the tissue-wrapped clue into her backpack, she
zipped it and listened. Nothing but a piping bird song drifted to her. Taking a
deep breath, she unfolded herself and exited her hiding spot. Her mind urged
her to get back to Jen’s, but curiosity pushed her to explore. To come all this
way and not at least peek into the house would be a shame.
After a quick glance around, Lynn hurried up the steps onto
the porch and peered inside through the beveled glass and wrought iron
decorating the top half of the door. All she could see was a hat rack/bench and
a polished wood floor disappearing into the dark heart of the house. The
interior seemed empty. Just to be sure, Lynn reached up and rang the doorbell.
The muted sound of deep, church-bells floated to her. She shifted foot to foot
and waited.
Licking her lips, Lynn tried the door handle. Locked tight.
She stood, hands on her hips, and stared at the solid wood. Maybe there’d be a
backdoor. Maybe it’d be unlocked. And maybe she was the queen of Thebes. Oh
well, no harm in checking it out. She bounded down the steps and headed toward
the back of the house.
Loud crashing through the bushes startled her. The snap of
branches grew more frenzied. Dragon? No, a dragon wouldn’t be running around so
openly. Would it? What else could it be? In the wilds of West Texas? Anything.
Feral hog. Cougar pack. Mutant skunk.
Oh God, please don’t let it be a skunk
.
Growls thrummed in the air as the thrashing and snorting
came nearer. She backed up a few steps before stopping herself. Flashes of gold
glistened in between the leaves. The branches immediately in front of her
shivered and shook. Her muscles tightened and coiled, ready for action.
A large dog burst through the thicket and pounced on her.
A dog. Just a dog. Lynn screamed as she landed on her back
in the dirt, with her arms full of the hairy, slobbering creature.
The clatter of horse hooves pounded the earth and stopped
inches from her. Defending herself from hot, wet kisses, Lynn looked up at two
cowboys on horseback silhouetted by the sun.
“Cannon!”
The sharp command cut through the air and froze the tussling
pair for a moment. The dog whined and looked over its shoulder as Lynn squinted
at the shadowy figures, trying to place the voice. With a wag of his tail, the
dog returned to licking her face with renewed enthusiasm.
Muttered curses buzzed in the air as one of the cowboys
swung off his horse and hauled the dog off her. Jack.
“Come on, Cannon.” Jack said, pushing the dog into a sitting
position. “Sit, boy!”
Once Cannon had settled down, Jack squatted next to the dog
and looked at her. “You okay?”
Caught in his piercing green gaze, Lynn found herself at a
loss for words. He bent over her, close enough for her to see the gold flecks
floating in his eyes. Before she could nod, the other man peered over Jack’s
shoulder and glared at her like she was a bug lying in the dust. “This is
private property, yer trespassin’.”
Jack’s shoulders stiffened. “She’s a friend.” He flashed a
wry smile. “You’ve already met Cannon, so named for his tendency to cannon
through everything and everyone.” Then he gestured at the other man. “This is
Sam White, my sister’s ranch foreman. And Sam, this is Lynn Alexander, Jen
Delgado’s friend.”
White grunted and held onto his scowl. “She’s still a
stranger and got no business skulking around.”
Heat warmed her face and her gaze dropped as fast as a
sinking stone.
“Head on back to the barn Sam, and take Sundance with you.”
Jack didn’t bother to turn to look at the man. “There should be some wire
stored in the back. I’ll be out there in a little while.”
White spat into the dust and grabbed the reins of Jack’s
horse. “Damn fool!”
Lynn wasn’t sure whether the label applied to her or Jack.
She watched the manager stomp off, cursing loudly about strangers traipsing
around and causing trouble. Soon he disappeared into the distance in a drum of
hoof beats. Cannon wheeled and galloped off behind them.
“Sorry about that,” Jack said. “Somebody’s been cutting the
fencing between the ranch and my fields so Sam’s kinda prickly.”
She nodded. He studied her back quietly, his face empty of
expression. “So, what brings you out here?”
Her tongue refused to work.
“What? You missed me already and had to visit?”
She looked up and caught the smile shadowing his lips. “No.
I was out for a run and decided to take the scenic route.”
“I’m glad you appreciate the view.” The smile spread to a
lazy grin.
She flushed. “I meant the countryside.”
“Of course.” He took off his hat and wiped his brow with a
handkerchief. “Then you saw my place and couldn’t resist another meeting.”
She matched his smirk. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“So, back to my original question.” He settled his hat back
on his head. “What are you doing here?”
Lynn found herself flushing again, along with a strange
sensation bubbling inside her. When did she turn into a lava lamp? “Actually, I
got turned around and was hoping to get some directions.”
“Well, darlin’ helping damsels in distress is my specialty.”
The accompanying wink set off hot sparks inside her. Maybe
her mom was right— maybe she and her dragon were off-kilter. She’d been around
plenty of men before, and never felt so wired.
He wiped his palms on his jeans and held out a hand to her.
“Here, let’s get you up first.”
She grasped his hand. Electricity jolted from her fingertips
up her arm. Lynn let out a sharp, surprised squeak and stumbled.
Jack’s solid arms embraced her in an instant. “You might
have a twisted ankle.”
An injury would be easier to explain than crazy hormones.
The ploy might also get her into the house. “Ow. Ow.”
He gathered her into his arms and lifted her off the ground.
His warm, musky scent ignited a sizzle at the pit of her stomach, torching her
insides and flaming onward. Lynn focused on a distant tree over his shoulder.
Focus.
Focus yourself
.
A cool breeze soothed her skin as a beautiful sunset blazed
behind him. The scene could be the ending of one of the old Western movies her
dad watched— the cowboy ready to take his bride into his home. Ready to kiss
and claim her. The last thought punched straight to her stomach and a fever
burned her cheeks. Happily-ever-after only happened in romance novels and
Hollywood.
He looked at her through the sooty fringe of dark lashes.
“Now let’s see what we can do for your pain,” he drawled, his voice soft and
sultry.
“Kiss and make it better?” Oh. My. God. Did she just blurt
out those words? Was that breathy voice hers? Her mind and tongue both seemed
to be going at the same speed— out of control. Lynn’s heart cantered.
His eyes —green, green eyes— widened, glittered with
interest and something more as he stood rooted to the spot, holding her against
his thudding chest. Full, sexy lips and square jaw shadowed in stubble. She
wanted to run her hands all over and discover every soft and hard inch of him.
Her breath came in short, shallow bursts as his head drew closer. His warm
breath whispered across her skin.
She managed a strangled laugh. “But an icepack would
probably be more effective.”
He chuckled. “Probably, but the other sounded a whole lot
more fun.”
“Oh.” She dropped her gaze and found herself staring at the
V of his tanned chest revealed by his unbuttoned blue cotton shirt. The desire
to undo the rest of the buttons made her throat dry.
He pulled back, shifted her in his arms. “Well, um, let’s
get you inside and see what we can do.”
Her gaze flicked up and clashed with his. Her mind whispered
promises.
Jack marched around to the back of the house, up onto the
back porch and kicked open the screen door and the unlocked backdoor.
Dammit, guess she was the queen of Thebes. A frustrated
breath escaped her. Okay, you’re here to play detective. So detect.
Inventory of the room might help her get her mind off the
fact that the damn man made her so weak-kneed that she had to be carried
around. Lynn’s gaze traveled over the cheerful yellow mudroom. A white washer
and dryer set stood against one wall. A wooden table, a bench, and a shelf
stacked with boots and shoes and umbrellas. Nothing out of the ordinary.
They passed through the kitchen/dining area and her gaze
fell on a dark wood sideboard against one wall. Ferocious-looking flying
dragons were carved onto each door. Two more dragons faced each other and
formed the decorative top of the piece.
“That’s a sixteenth century piece from Mexico that my great
grandfather found during his travels,” he said.
Admiration shone in his eyes as he looked at the sideboard.
Lynn glanced back at the piece. “It’s beautiful. You like dragons, then?”
He shrugged. “Don’t really have much of an opinion on
dragons, but my forefathers apparently had a taste for them,” he said, walking
through the shadowed house. “I just like the sideboard because of the
craftsmanship.”