Power of the Raven

by Aimée Thurlo

  “This coming from someone who already crashed and burned,” Gene snarled, then went inside.

  Lori was in the living room. “Officer, this guy is a total nut job. I have absolutely no idea why he’s doing this to me!” Lori looked around in shock. “How long was he in here?”

  “This wouldn’t take long—maybe five minutes tops. To me, it looks like he was searching for something specific,” the officer said. “Take a close look around. His search pattern might give you an indication of what he’s after.”

  With Gene right behind her, Lori slowly walked through the house. All the drawers, everything from the ones in the kitchen to the ones in the other rooms, had been taken out and upended. The bookcases had also been emptied and her books were scattered all around the carpet. Her couch cushions had been removed and now rested atop the mess. Even her trash had been dumped into the bathtub and sorted through.

  “He really is convinced that I’m hiding something,” she said.

  “Are you?” the young officer pressed.

  “No, and after this he’s got to see that, too,” she said.

  Gene shook his head. “He might have found whatever it was. It’s also possible that he didn’t and is now convinced that you’ve got whatever it is on you.”

  As Lori glanced at the three men, she saw curiosity in their eyes. “Guys, all I’ve got that he hasn’t seen or searched thoroughly are my clothes and this handbag. He tried to grab my purse before—if Gene and I are right and it was the same man—but he lost it during the chase.” Seeing the uncertainty on their faces, she knew they weren’t convinced. They still thought she knew something. “Let’s clear this up right now.”

  Lori slipped the purse off her shoulder and dumped the contents on the floor. “Lipstick, compact, keys, penlight, breath mints, ID badge, pad and pencil, my wallet.” She unsnapped that and opened it for them. “Fifteen dollars in cash—no hidden sections. My credit card, driver’s license and a medical insurance card.” She stepped back. “Normally I also carry my laptop, but it’s in my overnight case right now inside Gene’s truck. This guy obviously has me mixed up with someone else. There’s no other answer.”

  To her surprise, the police officer came to take a closer look at the contents of her handbag. “Nothing,” he said at last.

  She placed everything back into her purse. “I’ll keep looking through the house and see if I can come up with any answers.”

  Bracing herself, Lori entered the bedroom and froze just inside the doorway. Her throat felt so tight she could barely breathe, and even though she was trying hard to be brave, she could feel tears stinging her eyes. Refusing to blink, she stared at the mess before her. Even her underwear drawer had been upended and searched through.

  Lori picked up all her panties and bras, then dumped them into the trash.

  “Just wash them,” Gene said, loud enough for only her to hear.

  “No, there’s not enough disinfectant in this world to make me wear what he touched,” she said. “Why won’t he leave me alone?” she added, her voice wavering.

  “The answers are inside you,” Gene said, “but you’re too close to this to see them.”

  “I agree with Gene,” Daniel said, coming up to join them. “The officer tried lifting prints off a few surfaces the intruder clearly touched but, so far, he’s gotten nowhere. It looks like the guy was wearing gloves. On some level, I’m betting that you know what’s going on.”

  “I’ve done nothing but think about this. I have no answers. The only thing I know for sure right now is that I need to clean up this mess,” she said, looking around her home and trying to hold herself together. If she started crying now, she’d never be able to stop. “Maybe something will come to me as I do that.”

  “We’ll help,” Gene said, then pointed to her old desktop computer. “It doesn’t look like he touched that. It’s still off.”

  “It’s practically a relic, and not even hooked up anymore. I use my laptop when I blog and surf the internet. I’ve got to say I wish that it had been here for him to take.” She held up a CD software jacket. “I’ve got a tracking program installed. If he’d powered it up, we could have hunted him down.”

  Daniel nodded. “Smart move. That’s a good security measure.”

  She stepped over closer to her desk. “He didn’t touch my desktop computer, but my software storage has been ransacked,” she said, pointing to the cubbyhole on the left-hand side of the desk. “My backup flash drives are all over the floor, too. He also rummaged through the top desk drawer and the shelves beneath the desk.”

  “Odd, considering his lack of interest in your computer. It’s an unusual home intrusion,” the officer said, walking into the room. “This wasn’t the work of an ordinary thief. Whoever did this was either looking for something specific, out to intimidate you or both.”

  “Only one person fits the bill, Officer Green,” she said. “Bud Harrington. He wants me to live in fear, not knowing what might happen next. To him, it’s payback for the complaint I filed against him. I probably stirred him up, too, when I spoke to him the other day and told him to back off. He insisted on acting like the injured party, so it got me nowhere.”

  “But Harrington hasn’t been at his house in days,” Gene said, reminding her.

  “He still answers his business phone, so I’m guessing he’s staying with a friend in town or maybe has a second home somewhere nearby.” She paused and looked at each of the men. “The answer I’m giving you may not be what you want, but it’s the only one I have.”

  “We’ll do our best to follow it up,” the officer said.

  Dan motioned to Officer Green. “Come on, I’ll walk you to the door.”

  As they left, Lori continued picking up. “Very few things have actually been damaged,” she said.

  Gene retrieved a paperback from the floor next to the bed. “Spirit Warrior. Is this the book you mentioned?” Gene studied the cover that showcased a shirtless Native American man riding a horse, with a buxom, long-haired blonde hottie clinging to him.

  “Yeah.” She looked down at the cover, then back up at him. “Come to think of it, he does look a bit like you.”

  Dan came back into the room, glanced at the cover, then at his brother, and laughed. “You took the words right out of my mouth, Lori, but Gene’s got more muscles. You noticed that, right?”

  “Will you excuse us?” Gene said, then hauled his brother by the back of his shirt into the next room.

  She couldn’t hear what the guys were saying, just muffled voices. Chuckling, she looked down at the cover again. Daniel was right. Gene was definitely broader in the chest and better looking all around, though she hadn’t seen him shirtless yet.

  Even as the thought formed, she pushed it back. Yet? Was she losing her mind? It had to be the result of overexposure to testosterone. She shoved the book into her purse.

  Gene came back into the room minutes later and started helping her put the software CDs back in their place.

  “The back door was kicked in and badly splintered, basically ruined,” Dan said, joining them. “It can be screwed shut and secured for tonight, but it can’t be used. You shouldn’t stay here until you can update and change all the locks, and also replace the back door.”

  “We’ve been using the house in Copper Canyon,” she said.

  Dan looked at his brother in surprise, then shook his head. “That may not be such a good idea. Cell phones are iffy up there, and the landline goes out every time there’s a storm. Your ranch, on the other hand…” he said, letting the thought hang.

  “You’re right,” Gene said. “I’ve been wanting to get back to Two Springs Ranch to check on my animals, too. Devon, my neighbor’s son, does a good job, but there’s still a lot going on during spring, so I’d like to keep a closer eye on things.” Gene looked at Lori. “What do you say?”

  “Where, exactly, is your ranch?” Lori asked.

  “Southern Colorado, about a ninety-minute drive from here.
Since the DMV won’t be open again till Monday, there won’t be any problem getting back in time.”

  “But my house—that back door,” she reminded him.

  “Security is what I do,” Dan said. “If you leave me a key, I’ll seal the place up tight tonight, then make sure people I trust come by tomorrow and get it all fixed up for you. I’ll pay them, and you can settle up with me later.”

  “How expensive will it be?”

  “As long as you choose the same grade and style door that’s on there now, probably not so much, though the labor will be extra, it being Sunday,” Daniel said. “I may be able to get you an upgrade, too, because most companies deal wholesale with me.”

  “Then do it, but if they don’t take credit cards, I may have to make payments. Will that be a problem?”

  “Nah. Gene trusts you, which means so do I.”

  “Thanks,” she said and smiled. “I really appreciate what you’re doing for me,” Lori said, then glanced at Gene. “I’d love to get out of town for the weekend, and staying at your ranch sounds just about perfect.”

  “Then it’s a go,” Gene said.

  Lori gathered up a few more essentials in a large tote bag and was ready.

  “I gather from what you said before that you like horses?” Gene said, walking back outside with her. Dan was nearby, getting tools from his truck.

  “Yeah, I love them. I used to work at a stable when I was in high school just so I could ride free of charge.”

  He smiled. “I have a gelding you might like.”

  “Don’t let him rope you into mucking out the stalls. Remind him you’re a guest,” Dan teased as he came over to say goodbye.

  Gene gave Daniel a not-too-gentle slap on the head, then glanced back at Lori. “If there’s anything else from the house you’d like to take with you, now’s your chance.”

  She glanced back at the house. It would take time—and plenty of locks and alarms—before she’d feel completely safe there again. Holding up her tote, she said, “I’m good to go when you are.”

  She climbed into the truck, eager to leave. Visiting Gene’s home would give her a chance to see his world close-up. If she found that she couldn’t share his love for Two Springs Ranch, then she’d know for sure that their closeness was temporary and eventually would come to an end.

  Chapter Twelve

  The familiar drive took them to Shiprock, then north past tall, slender rock formations reminiscent of Monument Valley. After that, they passed the Colorado state line and were off the Navajo Nation. Twice, Gene saw a pickup following them, but both times, the vehicle eventually turned away.

  Moving into higher terrain dotted with junipers and piñon trees, they soon entered the city of Cortez, then continued northeast out of the city. There were low rolling hills dotted with more junipers and pines among fields of dryland grasses and future alfalfa crops.

  Here, moisture was much more abundant, but only by comparison. The true forests remained north and east where the Colorado Plateau was crowned by the San Juan Mountains.

  Taking a narrow, paved state road, they drove across open country punctuated by stretches of wire fence and an occasional ranch or farm. Cattle and horses grazed peacefully over the open range. Soon they went down a dusty dirt road and after an eternity reached a big metal gate.

  About a half mile beyond that, Lori caught glimpses of three or four buildings and a large red barn. There were several fruit groves and, higher up the hill, outlying pines of the encroaching forest.

  “I’ll get the gate,” Gene said. “Will you drive the truck through so I can lock up behind us?”

  “Lock? I don’t see one. Where is it?”

  “See that square metal box? The lock’s inside. That way no one can get at it with bolt cutters. Only the right code on the keypad will work. Daniel came up with the design. He has a similar system on the gate outside his business.”

  Gene opened the gate, then, after locking back up, joined her. “It’ll be hard for anyone to sneak up on us here. It’s mostly open ground and there’s crunchy gravel farther up, closer to the house.”

  “I can’t wait to see everything!”

  GENE PARKED NEAR THE MAIN house, then glanced at Lori, studying her expression. “What I see when I look at this ranch and what others see can be vastly different,” he said slowly. “My cattle and horses are my pride and future. To my brothers, Paul and Dan in particular, Two Springs Ranch is about animals that need to be fed and cared for and lots of backbreaking work.”

  “What you think is all that matters,” she said. “This place fills you with a sense of purpose. More importantly, it’s what you love. As they say, never mess with a winning game.”

  “Truer words were never spoken. Two Springs Ranch is everything I ever wanted and more,” he said, standing by the truck and looking out at the pasture. “I make a good living when things are going well, but money isn’t at the heart of why I stay. No one in ranching ever gets paid enough to make up for the long hours and the uncertainty that’s built into it. When times are tough, just getting through the day can be hard, but the land and the cattle will always put food on the table. I’ve never once doubted that this is where I belong, and that this is a life worth living. It all comes down to what matters most and pushing the rest aside.”

  “I understand exactly how you feel.”

  “Do you?” he pressed.

  She nodded. “It’s all about passion, really. This ranch and the life you lead here is the food your soul needs.”

  “Yes, that’s it exactly. I couldn’t have said it better myself.” As he looked at her, he realized just how much her opinion of the ranch mattered to him. For a man who’d never given a damn how others saw him, that was a first. “Let me show you around.”

  He led her to the main house. “All the buildings except the barn are structured log-cabin style because they’re cool in summer and warm in winter. I’ve added modern touches, too, such as floor insulation, to save energy. I’ve got high-efficiency wood-burning stoves inside and maintain my own sustainable woodlot. That saves on propane.”

  As he opened the front door and showed her inside, she smiled, her eyes huge and bright. She looked at the shelves that held his sports trophies and rodeo awards. She then walked to the west wall and admired his Southwestern landscapes featuring wild animals and horses.

  “I love your place. It’s strong, masculine, yet friendly and peaceful all at the same time.”

  As she walked around the main room, she stopped by the two couches with stained log frames. She gave a cursory glance to the wall-mounted flat-screen TV, but lingered by the wood coffee table with its inlaid Mexican tile top.

  “I built the shelves and carved most of the furniture myself. Those were things I learned from Hosteen Silver. The cushions on the couch and the Navajo rug are the work of a Navajo woman who lives about thirty miles south of here.”

  “The place looks rugged…like you,” she said.

  He smiled. He could live with that. “Let me show you the rest of the house.”

  He led her down the hall. “My office,” he said, showing her a room with a simple oak desk in the center, a pine swivel chair behind it and two tall bookcases against the side walls. Each was filled with books on ranching, agriculture and accounting. There were a handful of thrillers there, too, and dozens of paperback Westerns.

  “What, no romance novels?”

  “Haven’t tried any of those, but maybe I will. You never know. I might get a few pointers.”

  “I suspect you don’t need any,” she said, hiding a smile.

  Lori went to the window and looked at the huge, open field dotted with pines that lay just beyond. “When you’re taking care of the business side of ranching, this view must help you keep things in perspective.”

  “That’s why I chose this room as my office. Ranching is a tough business, not just a fantasy of the Old West,” he said. “They say that if you love what you do, you’ll never work a day in your
life, but I guess that doesn’t apply to ranching.”

  Next, he showed her a guest bedroom. There was a plain white bedspread on the full-size bed, and blinds on the windows. A large chest of drawers stood against one wall, and a pine wardrobe against the other.

  “My brothers use this room when they come,” he said. “Of course, if more than one of them shows up, I provide sleeping bags. I’ve also got a bunkhouse—a throwback to another era—that’ll eventually house all of them, but for the time being it’s a work in progress.”

  He walked to the doorway and waved toward the last room down the hall. “That’s my bedroom.”

  Peering inside, Lori’s attention was immediately captured by the full-size four-poster bed. Then, just as he’d suspected, the quilted bedspread caught her eye.

  As he followed her gaze, he saw her take in each of the squares. They were defined by an array of blues, some floral designs, others solids. Each was embroidered with tiny stitches that made up intricate patterns.

  “That’s the most gorgeous quilt I’ve ever seen,” she said.

  “My mother made it for me when I was a kid. It’s the only thing I’ve kept of the old days before Hosteen Silver stepped into my life. It’s to remind me that there’s beauty in everyone’s life, though sometimes we don’t see it until it’s too late.”

  “What happened to your parents?” she asked softly.

  “Alcoholism ruined our family. It cost us everything, including my parents’ lives. They got behind the wheel one afternoon and never made it home.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, reaching for his hand.

  “Don’t be. There’s good even in bad times. I grew stronger because of the way I was raised, and I learned to stand on my own. The situation at home eventually led me to Hosteen Silver, too, and a new family.”

  Lori went up and put her arms around him, giving him a hug. “I wish I had your strength,” she said.