Cornered in Conard County

by Rachel Lee

  “So what breed of dogs do you want?” Cadell asked Desi a few minutes later.

  “Whatever works. I’m not particular, and I wouldn’t usually need my dogs to be frightening. Most of the time I need them to track. Whatever you can give me that will be willing to traipse through the woods.”

  Cadell nodded. “I got it. I’ll call next week and tell you what kind of selection I can come up with. When I’ve got a few, you can come out and see what you think.”

  Cadell seemed lost in thought as they drove away with the dogs in the seat behind them. “I guess I need to let those two take a walk,” he said eventually.

  “Probably.”

  He looked over at her. “You okay, Dory?”

  “I’m fine. Why?”

  He paused. “Well, you said you wanted to be a hermit, and I’ve been dragging people into your life all day. Not very considerate of me.”

  “You asked first,” she answered. Yeah, it was fatiguing when she wasn’t used to being around new people, but she could have said no. However, she wouldn’t have missed meeting Krys for anything. That little girl had something special about her and Dory wished she’d been able to escape her own internal frost to spend more time with her. And Desi was nice enough and hadn’t pressed Dory in any way that made her uncomfortable.

  “I know I asked. I’m just wondering if you felt you couldn’t say no.”

  She was oddly touched by his concern. Most people wouldn’t even have thought of that.

  They stopped somewhere along a dirt road on a turnout near what appeared to be a stock gate, and Cadell let both dogs off leash to race around and work off energy.

  He had a lot of confidence in them, Dory realized. More than she had in Flash. She never walked out the front door with him unless he was leashed.

  The dogs were clearly in heaven. Cut loose with no orders to follow, they raced through the grasses like the waves of a sea.

  “I know some guys who are going to need a bath when we get home,” Cadell remarked. All of a sudden, he barked, “Flash! Dasher! No digging.”

  Whether they knew that particular command, both dogs immediately raised their heads and stopped working at the ground.

  “Come,” he said.

  With tongues lolling happily, both of them came trotting back. Cadell went to the rear of his SUV and lifted up the tailgate, pulling out a gallon bottle of water and a large metal dog bowl. He set it down while the dogs sat and waited politely. When he’d filled it with water, he said, “Go ahead, guys.”

  They didn’t need further permission. Dory felt another bubble of amusement. “These fellows understand a whole lot more than you told me.”

  He smiled, still holding the plastic bottle while he waited to see if the dogs wanted more. “There’s some disagreement about how much verbal language dogs understand. Some say about hundred words, some say closer to six hundred. They’re also very acutely aware of other signals. Think about it, Dory. They talk to each other with sounds, postures, tails, ears...but clearly they understand some verbal commands, so they must have language centers. Given that, they probably understand a whole lot more than we think.”

  “I’m seeing that right now.”

  “Maybe.” He laughed. “Or maybe you’re seeing the fact that we’ve done this before and they know the drill.”

  She nodded, watching the dogs splash water everywhere with their tongues. “That would make it hard to figure out.”

  “Very. But one thing I’m sure of—they’re a lot smarter than we give them credit for.”

  When they were back in the truck, Cadell said, “Let’s take them to my place to clean them up. I’ve got a doggy shower, a whole lot easier than you trying to deal with it in a bathtub. Although I’m sure you could.”

  She twisted and looked back at two very happy dogs, now flopped on the backseat. “I’m more concerned about the burs than the mud.”

  “Burs are always fun. And I’ll show you how to check them for ticks.”

  Ticks? Oh, man, she hadn’t even thought of that. The notion made her squeamish. “Do I have to?” she asked finally.

  That made Cadell laugh. “Well, if you want I can come over and do a tick check every day.”

  In an instant she realized that she wouldn’t at all mind him dropping by every day. Something else to worry about? Because she found it almost impossible to build real connections with other people. The last thing she wanted to do was make Cadell feel bad when he’d been so good to her.

  She squared her shoulders and told herself that she would learn how to deal with the ticks. She hoped.

  “Let’s go by my place,” he said. “I’ll wash the boys up, we can grab a small bite and then I’ll take you home.”

  “Thanks.” Then with effort, “How are the ostriches doing?”

  “As usual. They’re worth a lot of money, as Betty keeps saying, but I can’t sell them. Some inheritance, huh? They hate me, they’re expensive to maintain and they drive me nuts. I wish my dad had given me some clue as to what he was thinking when he got them. But none of his friends seem to know, either.”

  “That’s strange.”

  He shrugged. “My dad was an interesting guy. He would get big ideas of one kind or another, then nothing would happen. Like the time he traded a shortwave radio for a telescope mirror. Admittedly he didn’t use the radio, but he never used the mirror, either. It’s still sitting on his workbench.”

  After a minute he said, “I wonder if I could trade two ostriches for a couple of horses.”

  A giggle bubbled out of Dory. “The horses might be friendlier.”

  “Oh, there’s no question of that.”

  They drove through miles of open rangeland on the way to Cadell’s ranch. The land rolled gently, hinting at the mountains that rose to one side like a huge, distant wall. Herds of deer or antelope grazed alongside cattle, and she wondered if the ranchers minded.

  But slowly, ever so slowly, the bigness of the space around her planted uneasiness inside her. Out here there was no place to hide. You could run forever and still be visible.

  Why was she having these thoughts? George. But George had no idea where she was. She tried to shake the creeping sense of unease but was failing miserably. She needed the protection of small spaces, walls, locked doors and windows. She needed to keep the bogeyman out.

  That drew her up short. The bogeyman? Her brother was no bogeyman. He was a murderer, yes, but for all that he was human. She had no idea why he’d killed their parents, whether it had been born of a rage that caused him to lose control or if he was a seriously broken man. But either way, he wasn’t some mythical beast. Just a man.

  But the uneasiness wouldn’t leave her. The skin on the back of her neck crawled, although there was no reason for it. She had enough scars, she scolded herself. Was she going to live in terror for the rest of her life because George was out of prison? That didn’t impress her as a great way to spend the next forty or fifty years.

  She was relieved when they reached Cadell’s ranch. He had buildings she could run into. Lots of dogs that were being trained to be protective. And two ostriches that would probably love to peck George’s eyes out.

  That last thought at last made her laugh as tension seeped away.

  “What?” asked Cadell.

  “I was imagining your ostriches pecking out George’s eyes.”

  As he switched off the engine and set the brake, he gave her one of those smiles that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Feeling bloodthirsty?” he asked lightly.

  “I guess. Better than feeling afraid.”

  His expression sobered instantly, but he didn’t reply directly. “You can go inside if you want and hunt through my fridge for something. The thing is full of leftovers, and there are some soft drinks. I’ll just take the dogs to the s
hower.”

  “You were going to show me how to check for ticks.”

  “Actually not difficult if you pet your dog a lot. But yeah, come along and I’ll show you.”

  He did have a doggy shower, a concrete room with a sprayer attached to a long hose. Both dogs appeared to be used to the drill and didn’t put up a fuss. One by one they stepped in to be shampooed and rinsed. Cadell ran his hands over them as he washed and told her she needed to pay attention to any little bump.

  Even as he spoke, a tick fell off Dasher and disappeared down the drain. “Not attached yet,” he remarked.

  “What do I do if they’ve already burrowed in?”

  “I like nail polish.”

  Her voice broke on a surprised laugh. “You like what?”

  “Nail polish. Once their heads are buried, they have to breathe out the back end. You cover that with polish, and they’ll back out real fast. I also don’t want to chance leaving a head embedded by pulling on them. It could get infected. So a dab of nail polish, they back out, I grab with tweezers and dump them down the nearest drain or toilet.”

  “Seems like a good idea to me. I’ve heard of using something hot.”

  “Well, you can do that, too. But I figure why risk burning the dogs? Just be careful not to get the polish all over their coats. It only takes the thinnest smear to conquer a tick.”

  When he finished rinsing Dasher, he said, “Stand back.”

  She soon learned why. The dog began to shake out his coat, and water flew everywhere. Then he dashed out of the shower and up and down the run, shaking himself again at every kennel he passed.

  “He’s sharing the shower,” Cadell remarked. “Flash, get in.”

  Dory would have almost sworn that Flash sighed, but he did as he was told, standing perfectly still. This time Cadell handed her the shampoo and spray. “He needs to know you can do this, too.”

  Well, she couldn’t argue with that, and anyway, it was better than thinking about creepy things that could watch her across the open miles out there. Not for the first time she wondered if she were losing her mind.

  Flash proved mercifully tick-free, and he seemed to like the warm water rinse the best of all. Then she got to watch him shake out and run up and down as if full of excitement.

  Cadell spoke. “I’ve never been able to decide if they do that because they’re so glad to be done with the shower, or if they’re just happy.”

  “They look happy to me.” And they did. For a few minutes, Dory forgot everything else. Flash did that for her. Even if he never did another thing, he released her inside, if only for a short while.

  “I love that dog,” she announced.

  “I believe the feeling is mutual.”

  She looked at Cadell then, daring to meet his gaze directly without sliding quickly away. His gaze was warm, inviting, suggesting delights she could barely imagine. Yet he remained a perfect gentleman with her. He was getting past her guard, little by little. Just as Betty had. She tried to tell herself that wasn’t a bad thing. A man who’d give her a dog like Flash had to be special. All the hours of training...she’d bet he didn’t do that for free very often. Yet, he’d insisted Flash was merely an extension of his job as a lawman.

  Um, wow?

  An electric shock seemed to zing between them. Something invisible was trying to push her closer to him. Was he magnetic or something?

  But then he broke their gaze and turned. “Wanna come inside and rummage through my fridge before I take you back?” He glanced at his watch. “I go on duty in a couple of hours.”

  The moment broken, she tried to find steady ground in the practical. “After the shower I think you’re going to need a fresh uniform.”

  He looked down at himself and laughed. “What’s a little water?”

  Yup, in addition to sexual attraction she was learning to like him a whole lot. Sexual attraction she could deal with. She’d sent more than one guy away over the years, because she wasn’t going to get that close to anyone.

  But liking? That could be even more of a risk. Sex she could refuse, because she didn’t want to be vulnerable and couldn’t trust a guy that much. But liking...well, it grew of its own accord, and she had no idea how to prevent it. Nor did she know if she should. She didn’t have to let him that far inside.

  Although telling him part of her story earlier, reaching back to the little girl who had been terrorized for life by what she’d seen...well, that had involved trust, hadn’t it? Trust that he wouldn’t minimize it or tell her to get over it. No, he’d accepted her confidence in silence, not judging at all.

  Maybe she was more afraid of judgment than trust. After all, her brother had done something inexplicable. Maybe she thought others judged her to be as bad. Or maybe it was herself she couldn’t trust.

  Hell. It was a mess, and she didn’t want to think about it now. She needed to get back to work. Flash made her feel safe. Just leave it all at that.

  They passed the ostrich pen on their way to the house. For once the ostriches didn’t even look at them. Instead they stared out over the open fields, away from the mountains. Longing to run free?

  But as she was about to cross the threshold behind Cadell, something stopped her. She pivoted sharply and looked out over the endless grasslands. The back of her neck prickled. No reason. Nothing out there.

  Maybe she was just reacting to the ostriches’ behavior. Or to her own fears.

  Shrugging, she followed Cadell inside. Leftovers were beginning to sound good.

  * * *

  BEFORE LEAVING ON his patrol, Cadell checked to see if he’d gotten any pings on the whereabouts of George Lake. Nothing. After a bit of internal argument earlier, he’d decided not to tell Dory that her brother had left the halfway house. It was probably meaningless; the guy wasn’t required to stay there since he’d finished his sentence. It might only mean he’d gotten a job offer in another town.

  Odd, though, that nobody at the house had any idea where he’d gone or why. All they could tell him about George was that he’d spent a lot of time on their computer when he first arrived.

  That made Cadell uneasy, but he’d need a warrant to get a cop out there to look at the computer and find out what George had been so interested in. Unfortunately, uneasiness was not a valid reason to get a warrant. He was lucky the people at the halfway house had told him as much as they had.

  No one else in town was likely to know anything anyway. Dory had moved from there with her godparents before she reached middle school, so she had no connections in that town at all. After twenty-five years, there probably weren’t even many people who remembered those long-ago murders, or would care that George Lake was hanging around town briefly.

  Dead end. So it was good he hadn’t said anything to Dory about George’s whereabouts. All he’d do was make Dory even more anxious, and she was already anxious enough.

  Being a cop had made him acutely aware of people’s unspoken reactions. He’d detected her uneasiness in the open spaces. He’d even picked up on the sudden fright that had made her turn around on his doorstep and look out over empty fields.

  He wished he could ease her mind, but all he could do was try to pinpoint one man among millions. Not likely unless the guy crossed the law somehow.

  Well, if this was all he could do, he’d do it. And he’d keep an eye on her, too, as unobtrusively as possible.

  Because he truly didn’t think her fears were unfounded. Not with that inheritance hanging out there.

  Chapter Six

  George didn’t especially want to be found—not yet, at least—but he faced a conundrum anyway. Yeah, he’d taken that woman for quite a bit of money he could get by on, but it was difficult to get by anywhere when you didn’t have identification.

  He’d been told to take his release papers
and his prisoner ID to a Social Security office to try to obtain a Social Security card. He wondered if anyone in the prison system had looked lately at how many proofs of identity were required to achieve that. He hadn’t had a driver’s license in twenty-five years and didn’t think anyone would just hand him one. Getting a birth certificate turned into another set of hurdles.

  Not that he wanted to put himself back on the map just yet, but although he had the cash to do it, he couldn’t even buy a beater of a car without some ID. That meant he’d have to steal one and hope he didn’t get stopped on a road somewhere.

  In all his dreaming about what he was going to do to Dory and how rich he was going to be once he got his rightful inheritance, he’d never once considered that even though he was outside the gates, he might as well still be inside. Every avenue seemed blocked—except committing crimes.

  There was an irony that he was far from appreciating.

  It fueled an old rage in him, but that wasn’t helping anything. Not one bit. There was only one crime he wanted to commit, and he sure as hell didn’t want to leave a trail of smaller crimes over a wide swath of the country. That would draw as much attention as getting himself a valid ID.

  He knew of a guy who made fake IDs, but he wasn’t cheap. George hadn’t soaked the woman for enough to cover that and still be able to travel. Hell, he should have thought all this through better.

  But he did have one breakthrough. He noticed a fresh change at the website of the animation business Dory worked for. One of the designers was now listed as living in Conard County, Wyoming. Seemed a stupid thing to put up, but the feeling he got was that the group was trying to make it clear they could work from all over the country. How that was helpful, he had no idea. He knew how it helped him, though. Well, sort of. A county was a big place.

  He was sure it was Dory, though. The timing of the change was too close to his release. Evidently she never wanted to see him again, but that was fine by him. Now that he knew where to look, he just had to get there and scope the situation.