by Rita Herron
She nodded, and decided to grab a shower while he was gone. Dex and Lamar headed outside, and she went to look out the window. The sun streaked the lush green pastures, and two beautiful black stallions galloped on a hill in the distance. Hawk’s Landing was so serene and picturesque that it could have been a postcard advertising for Texas.
She studied Dex’s furnishings again. The crocheted afghan over the couch, the stacked-stone fireplace that ran from floor to ceiling, the pictures of his family on the mantel. She walked over and studied each of them. She recognized his brothers from the news in the last year, and picked out Honey and Charlotte and Dr. Mila Manchester.
Dex’s mother was surrounded by several teenage girls who, thanks to her loving care, looked bubbly and happy, not traumatized and beaten down from their ordeal with the human trafficking ring.
Each of the men in the family fought to protect and serve in their own way. They wore their badge of justice like an honor. Yet, instead of hardening their attitudes, they valued families and helping others.
She’d always yearned to belong somewhere, to have a family. But as much as she loved Dex, he’d left her before, and he probably would again.
Maybe if she could help find his father’s killer, he could finally find some peace in his life. That could be her parting gift before she moved on. And it was time...
She padded to the bathroom, stripped and turned on the shower. The warm spray felt heavenly, yet as the water cascaded down her skin, she closed her eyes and could still feel Dex’s fingers on her body, teasing and tormenting her and bringing her pleasure. She’d never forgotten his touch.
She never would.
When the water grew cool, she slipped from the shower and dried off, wishing she had another change of clothes, but these would have to do. Her cell phone was ringing as she finished dressing.
Expecting April or Dex to be calling, she rushed to answer it.
“Hello.”
“Melissa, this is Jim.”
Her heart stuttered. “Hey. Listen, that detective was here. He has pictures of you and Dex’s father and he’s saying that you killed him.”
“I didn’t,” Jim said. “But pieces of my past have been coming back. I think they may be important.”
“Tell me more.”
“Some are about the place where I was knocked out, where I lost my memory.”
“What do you remember about it?”
“Everything’s still foggy,” he said. “I’d like to go back to the place. I think it might jog my memory.”
“Do you know where this place is?”
His breath rattled out. “Actually, it’s near Hawk’s ranch, on the border of it and the Native American reservation.”
Melissa inhaled sharply. If he went to the place and remembered who’d assaulted him, maybe he could tell them who was behind the missing homeless men.
“I’m on the ranch now,” Melissa said. “I’ll go with you.”
“That could be dangerous, Melissa.”
“I don’t care, I believe you’re innocent and I want the truth. Dex deserves it, too. Although coming here will be dangerous for you. That cop is looking for you.”
“I have to do this,” Jim said. “For myself. I...have to prove I’m not who that detective says I am.”
“Then come by and get me.”
A tense heartbeat passed. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“I’ll be waiting outside.” She hung up, grabbed her purse and rushed outside to watch for him. Hopefully he’d arrive before Dex returned. If not, she’d have to think of some way to convince Dex to listen to what Jim had to say.
* * *
DEX AND LAMAR met Lucas in his study where Lamar laid out the evidence for Lucas to see.
Lamar explained about the DNA on the bloody rag and relayed his theory as Lucas studied the pictures.
“DNA is damning,” Lucas said. “And these photographs certainly do look incriminating.”
“I talked to Baxter,” Dex said. “He denies any wrongdoing, but seemed nervous when I questioned him.”
“He should be nervous,” Lucas said. “If we prove cattle were misrepresented at his auction house, word will spread and his reputation will be ruined. He’ll probably face lawsuits, and possibly charges.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Lamar said. “At this point, we just need to find Smith and force him to confess.”
“You already have every law enforcement agency in Texas looking for Smith,” Lucas said.
Lamar explained about wanting to use Melissa to draw Smith out, but Dex vetoed the idea again.
Lucas walked over to the whiteboard he kept in his study, flipped it over and gestured to the information he and Dex had collected regarding the case. Lucas had filled in the blanks with the names and dates of all the missing men he’d discovered in police reports over the past twenty years along with the histories of a few of the men and their families.
The dates that two of the men disappeared were only months before his father abandoned them. Could his disappearance have been connected to the missing men?
If he’d learned something about them, why hadn’t he gone to the sheriff?
And why hadn’t Smith killed him eighteen years ago instead of waiting until now?
“Did Smith indicate where he might go?” Lamar asked.
Dex shook his head.
“What exactly did he tell you?” Lucas asked. “Other than the story about having amnesia? How and where did he lose his memory?”
Dex replayed their conversation in his head. “On some land, near a rock formation. He said that when he regained consciousness, there were arrowheads everywhere.”
Lucas drummed his fingers on his desk. “Dex, that sounds like that formation on the edge of our property. The one that borders the land owned by the rez.”
Dex nodded. “You’re right. I remember us hiking out there with Dad when we were little. He brought us some arrowheads he found there. That’s what sparked my interest, and then Chrissy and I started collecting them.”
“If Smith lost his memory there, he might return,” Lucas suggested.
“Or if he’s been hiring guns to cover up his scheme,” Lamar cut in, “maybe that’s their meeting spot.”
Dex’s heart pounded. “You’re right. I’ll check on Melissa, then we’ll drive up there.”
Lucas pinched the bridge of his nose. “Charlotte had some more Braxton-Hicks contractions last night, so I don’t want to leave her alone. Let me take her to the house to stay with Mom, then I’ll meet you at your cabin and we’ll ride together.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Dex agreed.
Lamar’s phone buzzed with a text, and he stepped outside on the porch and responded to it. When he finished, Dex hurried to Lamar’s vehicle. Lamar started the engine and sped toward Dex’s cabin.
Dust drifted in the air near his drive as they rounded the curve. Dex spotted an old black pickup heading away from the cabin in the opposite direction.
Lamar noticed it at the same time. “Is that one of your hands?”
“I don’t think so,” Dex said. “Stop at the cabin.”
Lamar sped down the drive and swung the police car to a halt. Dex jumped out, sprinted up the steps and through the front door. “Melissa, are you here?”
His pulse clamored as he raced through the house. Melissa’s coffee mug sat on the kitchen table, but her purse was gone. He checked the bedroom, then the kitchen again and found a note on the counter near the coffeepot.
Dear Dex,
I know you don’t trust Jim, but I do. I’m going with him to the rocks to see if it will jog his memory. He wants to know the truth the same as you and I do.
Love, Melissa
Dex punch
ed Melissa’s number, and it rang several times, but she didn’t answer. Dammit.
He raced back outside. Lamar was waiting by the car, a cigarette in his hand. Odd, he thought his friend had quit.
“She’s gone,” he said as he jumped back in the passenger side. “Let’s go.”
Lamar stubbed the cigarette on the ground and climbed in, a scowl deepening the frown lines on his face. “Where?”
Dex gestured toward the road. “To the rocks. Smith was in that truck and Melissa’s with him.”
* * *
MELISSA RODE IN silence as Jim drove from Hawk’s Landing onto the bordering property, just over the line onto the reservation. The area was miles and miles from the houses and buildings that the natives inhabited, deserted, and out of sight from the highway.
A frisson of nerves rippled through her. If Jim was lying and wanted to hurt her, this would be a perfect place to do so. No one would find her.
But one look at his troubled expression, and a calmness overcame her. So far, her instincts hadn’t failed her at the shelters. She wouldn’t ignore them now. He didn’t plan to hurt her. He wanted her help.
Jim parked beneath a cluster of trees, between a cactus and a boulder that shielded the truck from the road. He turned to her, his dark gaze serious. “I was here.”
He gestured toward the rock formation. “Over there.” They sat for a long moment in silence while he seemed to be reliving a memory of the past.
His breathing grew unsteady, and he opened the truck door and got out. Melissa watched. She had to be patient and not pressure him to remember.
Quietly, she slid from the truck and followed him.
Just as he’d said, the rocks were shaped like an arrow. Gravel crunched beneath her shoes, and she looked down and saw dozens of arrowheads on the ground. Dex had a collection on his wall.
Suddenly Jim made a low sound in his throat, then placed one hand on the top of the rocks. His face turned ashen.
She inched forward to see what he was looking at and froze. Dear God. There were mounds of dirt lined up on the other side of the rocks.
Mounds that looked like graves.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dex texted Lucas and asked him to meet them at the rocks. Fear for Melissa warred with anger. Why hadn’t she called him to tell him about Smith?
Unless the man had taken her against her will...
But her note indicated that she’d gone of her own volition.
Hell, Smith could have held a gun on her and forced her to write the note.
Lamar kept a pair of binoculars in his dash, so Dex grabbed them and used them to track the pickup truck as they crested the hill. Smith had parked between a boulder and cactus, hidden. Of course, he was in hiding. He knew good and damn well the cops were after him.
And he had Melissa with him.
Lamar slowed and approached to the left, then parked off the side of the road at the bottom of the hill but far enough away that Smith couldn’t see them. The detective pulled his gun as he eased from the unmarked squad car.
Dex joined him, but held up a finger signaling they had to talk. “Lamar, we have to approach with caution. If Smith is armed, we could spook him and he might hurt Melissa.”
Lamar glared at him. “Listen, Dex. I’m in charge here. You are to let me take the lead.”
“Right.” But Lamar didn’t care about Melissa personally the way he did. “Please, I just don’t want her to be hurt.”
Lamar’s gaze met his, understanding in his eyes. “I know you’re in love with her. I’ll do all I can to keep her safe.” He gestured toward the rocks. “Now, let’s go get your father’s killer.”
Adrenaline spiked as they crept through the bushes toward the rocks. When they reached a small hill that offered a view of Smith and Melissa, he used his binoculars to see if Smith was armed.
“No weapon,” Dex muttered.
“Don’t get comfortable. He could have it hidden,” Lamar said.
Dex peered through the binoculars again and focused on Melissa’s face. She looked pale, nervous, as if she was afraid.
Had Smith threatened her? Was he using her as a hostage?
Smith walked a few feet around the rocks, then stooped down beside a mound of dirt. He ran his fingers over the mound, stirring dust, then picked up an arrowhead and studied it.
Melissa remained frozen, shock streaking her face.
Dex inched forward, straining to get a better look. There was another mound beside the first. Then another.
“Dammit,” Dex muttered. “Those mounds—”
“Are graves,” Lamar said. “We have him now. Smith led us straight to the bodies of some of his victims.”
* * *
MELISSA COUNTED FIVE mounds of dirt. Five graves. Had Jim known they were here?
He reached into his pocket, and her breath caught. Did he have a gun? Could she be wrong about him?
She started to back away. Her phone was in her purse in the truck. She could call Dex.
But Jim didn’t make a move toward her. His hand slid from his pocket. Instead of a gun, he held a small object, maybe a coin? He rubbed it between his fingers as he stared at the graves. His eyes looked vacant, lost in thought, his posture rigid and tense.
A slight breeze stirred the hot air. She inhaled dust as it swirled around her feet. Jim stooped down and raked at the dirt near one of the graves. What was he doing?
“I was here,” he said in a low voice. “This is where it happened. Where I lost my past.”
Melissa clenched her hands together. “What else do you remember?”
He angled his head toward the sun, squinting, then at the rocks as if struggling for details. Then he looked at the object in his hand and studied it.
“I came out here to meet someone,” he said. “About a deal. Then I found these graves. And then...something hard slammed into the back of my head.”
She sucked in a breath. “Someone knocked you out because you found the graves. Did you see who it was?”
He shook his head, his expression tormented. “But I knew something was wrong before he hit me. Before I found the graves. That’s the reason I came out here.”
A noise, rocks skittering behind her, jerked Melissa’s attention to the space to the right of Jim. Dex was perched behind a boulder holding a gun.
“You knew where those bodies were buried because you put them there,” Dex growled.
Smith swung his gaze toward Dex, his fingers stroking that coin. But it wasn’t a real coin, it was wooden.
“No,” Jim said. “I don’t think that’s what happened. I... I figured out that something was wrong—”
“What are you talking about?” Dex asked.
Jim lifted the wooden coin. Dex’s eyes widened. “A wooden nickel. My daddy always told me...”
“Not to take any wooden nickels,” Dex finished at the same time Jim muttered the phrase.
Jim nodded. “But I did. I realized I had.”
Melissa’s head swam as she tried to follow the conversation.
“What do you mean?” she asked softly. “Someone gave you that wooden nickel?”
He shook his head again. “No, the saying, it means don’t let anyone cheat you. But I did.” He paused, then his eyes lit up as if remembering something. “I bought a bull, thought it was a prize one, but when I went to register it, I learned it wasn’t. I’d been conned.”
“Someone conned you or you were the one doing the con?” Dex asked.
“I was conned. I went to the auction house to confront the auctioneer and overheard some men talking.” He paused, then pinched the bridge of his nose in thought. “They were talking about how they did it.”
“You mean how you did it.” The detective suddenly appeared beside Melissa, his weapon aimed at Jim. “You came up with the idea. Yo
u paid homeless men to buy them cheap at auction, then forged papers to make the bulls look like stud quality and resold at a higher price.” Detective Lamar heaved a breath. “Then you killed the men who helped you and buried them here just like you killed Steven Hawk and Gunther and Harry Willis and Dr. Huckleberry to cover your tracks.”
The detective stepped forward, clenching his gun tighter. “Now, put your hands up. You’re under arrest.”
Jim raised his hands, but a challenging look glinted in his eyes. “You can take me in, but I remember what happened now. I didn’t kill these men, but I know who did.”
“You can give your statement when we get to the station,” Detective Lamar snapped.
Dex moved from behind the rock where he’d been standing. “I want to hear what he says right now.” Dex aimed his weapon at Smith. “Did you kill my father?”
* * *
“NO,” SMITH SAID. “I didn’t kill anyone. I told you I was attacked.”
“Tell us what happened,” Melissa said softly.
Dex held his breath while he waited on Smith to explain. The man kept rubbing that wooden nickel, stirring childhood memories for Dex.
Smith claimed he’d been attacked in this spot, on the border of Hawk’s Landing and the rez. Had his father stumbled onto what Smith was doing eighteen years ago?
Dex slid one hand into his pocket, his fingers running over the wooden nickel his father had given him. The wooden nickel...the saying...it was exactly what his father used to tell him.
Questions clanged around in his head. Questions that made no sense and seemed too coincidental to believe.
But they planted themselves in his mind anyway. Had Smith stolen the wooden nickel from his father?
Dex narrowed his eyes. “When exactly did you lose your memory?”
Smith looked down at the wooden nickel, then back at Dex, then at Lamar. “Ask your friend. He was here.”
Stunned, Dex narrowed his eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Ask him,” Smith said sharply.
Dex glanced at Lamar. Something akin to panic streaked his face, then Lamar suddenly bolted to the side, grabbed Melissa and shoved his gun to her head. “I’m sorry, Dex. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”
