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Lucas drove from the scenic view, much like a dog ran with its tail between its legs after losing a fight. His emotions wrestled between severe heartbreak, worry, and fear. The heartbreak he suffered alone, but his worry and fear hovered around Lydia’s safety and wellbeing. Although she was strong in many respects, emotionally she teetered on the brink of shattering from the mental pressure of finding where she belonged in the world or if she’d ever find the stability she sought. Like her, he realized her rightful place might never be found.
After Lydia had killed in self-defense she wasn’t able to accept that she was anything less than an assassin. And now that she sought to exact justice, she was without limits to what she would do or how many people she’d kill and feel justified doing so. There was no way to rein her rage back under control. Lucas feared the news reports he might see over the next few days about an untraceable serial killer. He believed that she could kill without leaving any evidence pointing back to her.
What Joe had told him quickly over the phone was nothing compared to his confrontation with Lydia. Never had Lucas felt so distanced from the woman he loved and cherished. When she had been abducted in Nevada, the loss and uncertainty hurt more than he could bear. But this—her deliberately telling him not to find her after she ended their relationship—was far worse than he imagined pain could be.
Lucas wanted to drive out the image of her firing the warning shot just inches above his head and the second shot near his foot. But the cold, calloused look in her eyes was fierce, calculated, and chilled him even now as he recalled the darkness in her stare. Her threat wasn’t a bluff. When Lydia said that she’d kill him, he had no doubt she’d do it. Perhaps he had foolishly ignored what she kept telling him she was—a ruthless assassin.
It unnerved him that this was the woman he had slept beside for months. Had she contemplated killing him during these past six months? Was that part of why she had left? He wondered if she had considered it. And if so, how often?
What possessed him, after all this time, to believe she was more than an experiment created by Idris? Indeed, viewing her sleeping nude form through the glass incubation chamber at TransGenCorp was enough to bring out the wicked lust in any man. Her face and body radiated perfection in every detail. Lust, however, wasn’t the reason he had chosen to be with her.
Early on, after Lydia had been released from the chamber and evaluated by physicians at the hospital, she had kept him at a distance. He understood she had done this primarily because she didn’t have any memories or a family history. In fact, she had no history at all, other than what Idris had programmed her brain to believe. Trying to develop a relationship with her might have been a mistake that he still didn’t want to accept. He did love her. He wanted the very best for her, but he was beginning to understand he didn’t fit into her life. Perhaps no one did or ever would. That she roamed alone saddened him most of all.
As he drove to Joe’s house, he thought of her smile, her unfailing laughter when he caught her off guard with a witty joke or observation. But since the abduction, her laughter faded. She brooded within darkness that he feared. She no longer evolved toward being an optimistic person with real dreams and ambitions. She had come to a destined crossroads, but instead of taking a path toward light and love, she ventured toward rage and revenge. A path to self-destruction. He couldn’t follow her without tarnishing himself for the rest of his life. If he couldn’t follow, she placed herself where he had no power to rescue her.
Lucas wiped tears from his cheeks. As he slowly placed his right hand on the steering wheel, the scar across his palm brought back a youthful memory he’d never forget nor forsake.
At summer camp, he had met Joe Shadow-talker. They hit it off from the beginning. At the age of twelve, they became blood brothers. Although just boys, Joe held a wealth of information far beyond his years that Lucas found amazing. Joe was a mystic, the son of a shaman. All aspects of nature were his family. He understood and saw things that Lucas didn’t. Even with the tender explanations Joe offered, Lucas only picked up the basics. His ears weren’t keen to the spiritual realm Joe visited.
For Joe to ask his help meant something had gone awry. Lucas lived six hours away, but if he pushed it, he could reach Joe’s ranch in four.
***
Joe stood outside his ranch house with his hands stuffed in his pockets. His brothers leaned against the fence behind him. The sheriff talked to the coroner for a few minutes after Joe and his brothers cleared the house of the rattlesnakes. None of the paramedics or officers set foot inside until the reptiles were captured and removed.
Sheriff Sterling approached Joe.
“Mind if we have a word?” he asked Joe. “In private.”
Joe nodded. “Not at all, Sheriff.”
Sterling walked up the gravel drive out of earshot of Joe’s brothers. The sheriff was sixty-six years old, thin and tall, and with facial wrinkles defined by the sun and his years of wisdom. He rubbed his hand over the stubble of his chin. His brow furrowed as he thought. He pushed the tip of his cowboy hat back and looked directly into Joe’s eyes. “Who’d you piss off, Joe?”
Joe shrugged. “No one to my knowledge, sir.”
“Hell, somebody sure wants you dead. You had ten rattlers inside your house. Ten. Certainly not intended as a house-warming gift, son. I know we have rattlers all over the area, but the damned things don’t roam in packs. And from what we can tell, whoever put them there are responsible for the death of your girlfriend.”
Joe gave a solemn nod. “I realize that.”
“How well did you know her?”
“Misty? I just met her last night. I didn’t have much time to get to know her.”
“She didn’t seem too shy to shack up with you.”
Joe gave an embarrassed smile and shook his head, “We were quite drunk.”
Sterling rested his hands on his belt and stared at the ground. “How often do you do something like this?”
“First time I’ve been to a bar in about three years. First woman I’ve been with during that time, too. I don’t go out much.”
“Where’d you pick her up? Which bar?”
“The Waterhole Bar and Grill.”
Sterling shook his head. “Joe, you know that bar’s reputation toward Native Americans.”
“That was years ago.”
“Granted, son, it was worse years ago. That kind of hostility might fade but it never completely goes away. Especially with some of the racist bikers that frequent there.”
“I know, but no one gave us a hard time.”
“Did you notice anyone at the bar that might have been watching the two of you? Like maybe a jealous ex-boyfriend or something.”
“No, not that I noticed. Like I said . . . I was drunk by the time she and I started talking.”
“No problems in the parking lot?”
“No, sir.”
“Maybe they tailed you home.”
Joe shook his head. “I’d remember seeing headlights if anyone followed us. The moon wasn’t out, so they couldn’t have driven without headlights on.”
“Since they tore your house apart looking for something, she might have just been an innocent victim. Any idea what they’re looking for?”
“No,” he lied.
Sterling studied him for several seconds. “You’re sure?”
“I live a modest life. I can’t think of anything worth taking.”
“They want something, and if they didn’t find it, they’ll be back. You can be certain of that. Your life is in danger.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“Well, you think about your situation real hard, Joe. Real hard. I’ll be back in a few days when the toxicology report comes in. If you remember something before then, give me a call.”
“I will.”
“And should you see any suspicious activities or people, call the department. We’ll get to the bottom of this. I certainly don’t want to find you like Misty.”
“I appreciate it, sir.”
Sterling nodded, tipped his cowboy hat, and headed to his squad car.
After the sheriff drove away, Joe’s brothers surrounded him.
His oldest brother, Owl-hunter, gave Joe a firm stare. “Joe, who did this?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who was the girl?”
“Misty.”
“Misty?”
Joe nodded. “Her last name was Litman.”
“She from around here?”
“I honestly don’t know. I met her last night.”
Owl-hunter looked at their other two brothers. “We need to know more about her. Joe, what did you do with the strange skull at the excavation? You did rebury it?”
Joe looked away.
“Joe,” Owl-hunter said with deep disappointment in his voice. “I warned you. It’s a bad omen. You should have left it where you found it.”
“It’s not a bad omen.”
Owl-hunter frowned. “Get the skull. We take it back to the excavation and rebury it.”
“No. It’s far too late for that.”
“Why?”
“I believe that’s why they tried to kill me. They know I have the skull.”
“Then we take it back and let them dig it up.”
Joe folded his arms. “If we do that, we’re all as good as dead.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Once they get it, they’ll kill anyone that knows it exists.”
“Same type of people who took Lucas’ wife?”
Joe shrugged. “That’d be my guess.”
Owl-hunter shook his head and gritted his teeth. “Where is it?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“While we all live in jeopardy?”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“It has come to that, brother. Your girlfriend is dead. They’ll come again and more relentlessly next time.”
“I know.”
“Then we bait a trap.”
“Where?”
“Back at the pit.”
Joe nodded.
“I’ll call you later this evening. Tomorrow, we wait for them. Make sure you bring the skull.”
“I will.”
“Until then, keep your senses keen.”
Joe smiled. “I always do.”
“Not last night you didn’t.”
“I know. That won’t happen again.”
“You might not be so lucky next time, brother. Be safe.”
Joe smiled weakly and as they walked away, he said, “You, too.”
Chapter Fifteen
Lucas pulled into Joe’s driveway. The coroner’s van backed onto the main road and drove away.
Joe sat on the porch steps whittling. His hands gently slid the knife across the wood. Spirals of pulp spindled and dropped to the steps between his feet. His eyes were deep in thought while he worked his finishing touches. He turned the sculpture in his fingers, blew away small bits of loose wood dust, and then he admired his creation. From the piece of live oak, he had carved an impressive bird. A raven.
Lucas stepped from his vehicle and approached the house. Joe met him halfway. They clasped right hands, leaned forward, and clapped one another’s back in a fierce brotherly hug.
Joe stepped back and stared into his friend’s eyes. “You look as deeply troubled as I am. Is everything all right?”
Lucas sighed and forced a smile.
Joe motioned toward the porch. “Sit. I’ll go grab you a beer, and you tell me what’s going on.”
“You called me for support, but I’m afraid I won’t do you much good.”
“Nonsense,” Joe said. “Your problems are my problems.”
Lucas nodded. “The same goes for you, my friend.”
“Take a seat. I’ll be right back.”
Joe hurried back with an open bottle of Budweiser and a bottle of water. He handed the beer to Lucas. Lucas took a long drink and placed the bottle on the step beside him.
“What happened, Luke?”
“Lydia left me.”
Joe frowned with concern. His eyes softened. “I’m sorry. Did she give any reason why?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think this is temporary?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen her like this, Joe.”
“What happened?”
“She’s never got past killing those men at her farm, or killing the security guard at Desert Labs, even though it was an accident. The guilt has weighed heavier on her.”
“Killing a person is difficult to get over, Luke, even in self-defense.”
Lucas shook his head, pulled out his cigarettes, and struck a match on the step. “You don’t understand. She’s going after Matthews to kill him.”
“The man she beat to a pulp at Grayson Enterprises? He’s in prison, isn’t he?”
“He was. He escaped today.”
“I see. And if she succeeds? What then?”
“He’s not the only target.”
Joe frowned. “There are others?”
Lucas nodded.
“Who?”
“She wouldn’t tell me.”
“You tried to stop her?”
“Yes, but not successfully though. She shot at me, Joe. Twice.”
Joe glanced into Lucas’ eyes and shook his head. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious. She fired one shot over my head and another at my foot when I stepped closer. She aimed at my chest and warned me to back off. I did.”
“You really believe she’d kill you?”
“The cold look in her eyes indicated she would. I have no doubt she’d have killed me had I taken another step. I’ve never seen her so full of uncontrollable rage.”
Joe sipped his water while he thought. A hawk circled and landed on a power line. “I still remember how she looked when she was ready to kill Matthews. You barely coaxed her out of it then.”
“I know.”
“But, it’s like she has a kill switch. You said something right and she snapped out of it.”
“I know.” Lucas shook his head. “But she’s deeper now. She’s lost all self-control. She wants all people like Matthews dead.”
“Has she acted irrational since you returned home after her abduction?”
“I honestly thought she was healing mentally, that everything was going to be okay. We went to bed last night, and she held me close until I went to sleep. She felt so warm and comforting. Without warning, I awoke and found her note this morning. I tracked her GPS and found her a few miles away. When I approached, she shot at me.”
Joe clasped Lucas’ shoulder. “She seems to have gotten progressively worse. You mentioned she was a lab project. She said that she was programmed to kill. Is there no way to reverse what those scientists created her to do?”
“I have no idea.”
“It will work itself out.”
“I hope so,” Lucas said. “I saw the coroner leaving. What happened?”
Joe explained Misty’s death, the ten rattlers, and his house being ransacked.
“Ten rattlesnakes? Damn,” Lucas said. “My entire house would have been full of bullet holes.”
Joe grinned. “They are more timid creatures than most believe.”
“Sure, and they have the fangs to back that up.”
“We caught all ten without incident. I’m certain they’ll be more satisfied when we release them in a gulch.”
“You’re returning them to the wild?”
“Of course.”
Lucas looked at Joe and changed the subject. “I wasn’t aware you were seeing anyone.”
Joe shook his head. “No, I had just met her.”
“You hit it off that well?”
“Honestly, I wouldn’t have taken her home had I not been so drunk and lonely.”
“Nothing wrong with finding a partner, even temporarily.”
Joe’s eyes saddened. “Apparently last night was the wrong night for her. She’d still be alive if I’d not been eager to bed her.”
“You think they would have placed the rattlers anyway?”
Joe took a sip of water, set the bottle on the porch, and nodded. “I know they would have. She was in the wrong place and fell victim to their plot.”
“Do you have any idea what they’re looking for?”
“I know exactly what they want.”
“Did you tell the police?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“No sense putting their lives at risk, too.”
“I don’t understand. How could handing over whatever these people want endanger the police?”
Joe smiled evenly. “What I possess is probably worth as much as Lydia is to the people after her.”
“Government officials?”
“That’s my guess.”
“So these people didn’t find it?”
“No. I have it hidden somewhere safe.”
Lucas stood and stretched. “Do you mind showing me what’s so valuable to these people?”
“I don’t have it here.”
Joe grabbed Lucas’ empty bottle and his and placed them on the porch table. He walked to the rugged fence and leaned on the top slat. Joe’s black appaloosa stood in the center of the pasture lot eating dry hay.
Lucas stepped beside Joe. “Did the sheriff’s department find any tire tracks around your house that weren’t made by your truck?”
“If there were any, they probably were driven over by the patrol cars, the ambulance, and the coroner’s van. They spent a lot more time checking for fingerprints and worrying about accidentally finding more rattlers. My guess is that whoever put the snakes inside the house parked their vehicle a good distance away and walked.”
“So no signs of forced entry when you arrived home with Misty?”
“No.”
Lucas folded his arms. “Care to take a short walk and look for footprints?”
Joe shrugged. “It can’t hurt.”
“Who knows? We might turn up something useful.” Lucas stopped at his vehicle and grabbed his gun from beneath the front seat.
Joe frowned. “Is that necessary?”
“Joe, I truly believe rattlers are the least of your troubles. Besides, they may still be watching your house since they didn’t find whatever it is that they are looking for.”
“Unfortunately, bro, you’re probably right.”
“If we don’t find any footprints, I’d like you to ride with me to the bar where you were last night. We might be able to question other patrons from yesterday that can provide clues.”
Joe clasped Lucas’ shoulder. “Well, I’m glad to see you’ve jumped in with both feet.”
“I have to, Joe, or thinking about Lydia will tear me apart.”
“I’m glad you came. Things with Lydia will work themselves out.”
“I hope so.”
“One way or the other, it will be okay. You’ll see.”
Lucas followed Joe up a narrow gully that had been washed out from the last heavy rain. Creosote bushes with yellow flowers thrived along the dry, rocky path. Several of their branches were bent and broken. Joe inspected them.
“This is the path they took,” Joe said. “Looks like they used scrub branches to sweep away their footprints.”
At the top of the gulch the terrain leveled off. Lucas pointed. “They drove a heavy four by four through here. Military, perhaps.”
Joe gave a solemn nod. “It is as my brothers and I feared.”
“What do you have that they want?”
“I’d have to show you. You wouldn’t believe me otherwise.”
“I know you’d never lied to me.”
Joe smiled. “With this, though, seeing is believing.”
“We’ll take my SUV and follow these tracks.”
“Sure, but we go get the relic first.”
“No,” Lucas said. “Keep it hidden until we find out who is after you. If we find them and you have the item with you, they’ll kill us. We need something for leverage.”