She was short and tall men, particularly big and tall, didn’t thrill her. They made her nervous as hell.
Like the jerk at the bar that was currently fending off female number three. What did he do, anyway? Rub honey all over himself?
"You think he’s serious about it?" she asked casually.
"Who?"
"Greywolf."
He shrugged. "I don’t really know him that well. Could be. I get the impression that it’s sort of a hereditary position, though, so maybe he does and maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he’s just keeping up the traditions. The natives are big on traditions."
Another mark in the deficit column for Dr. Bob. Given his obvious contempt for the red man, she had to wonder what he was doing working at a reservation clinic. "I take it you’re not a big believer when it comes to the paranormal?"
He chuckled. "I’m a doctor."
Charlie lifted her brows. "And this means…?"
"I don’t have time for fairy tales."
Charlie said nothing, concentrating on her meal, which was surprisingly good.
"Don’t tell me you believe in that voodou nonsense."
Charlie merely shrugged.
He chuckled. When she gave him a look, he stifled his amusement with an effort. "Seriously? This is a side of you I wouldn’t have pictured. Mysticism?"
Charlie frowned. "I like to think I’m open minded."
"That’s a little off the charts though, isn’t it?"
"So was a round world a blink of an eye ago."
He shook his head. "I guess everybody wants to believe there’s still some magic in the world."
Charlie frowned. She didn’t particularly want to get into a discussion of her beliefs. The scrape of a chair distracted her and she looked up to discover Greywolf had sauntered across the bar and dragged up a chair. Setting it at the end of the table, he straddled it and propped his forearms on the back.
She felt her jaw go slack, wondering how she could’ve failed to notice him moving toward them.
If he’d been a felon, he would’ve had a bead on her now.
Dr. Bob, she saw, was giving him an assessing, not very friendly look.
"Mind if I join you?" Greywolf looked directly at her as he asked the question.
"Yes."
"Not at all," Charlie said politely at almost the same moment.
Dr. Bob forced a chuckle. "Why not? What brings you over, anyway? No luck tonight?"
"My ears were burning."
Charlie glanced at him a little guiltily and pushed her plate away.
"Ah!" Dr. Bob nodded. "I was just explaining to Charlie that you where the local medicine man."
Charlie glared at the doctor. She hadn’t given him permission to call her by her first name, at all, and certainly hadn’t encouraged him to get familiar enough to call her Charlie. Only her family and closest friends called her that.
"Is that why you kept glancing over there? You expect me to start chanting?"
Charlie gave him a withering look. "I was looking at the clock," she said tightly.
"Your watch stop working?"
She reached for the napkin in her lap. "I’m a clock watcher."
He gave her a faint small that called her a liar. Charlie felt her palm itch and clamped it around her napkin. "Guess that happens when you spend too much time in doors ... pale face."
Charlie was pretty sure she’d just been insulted, but she decided to ignore him.
She glanced at the clock again, just to emphasize that she hadn’t been studying him since she’d come in. "It’s getting late. I should see if I can find a room. What time should I meet you in the morning?"
Dr. Bob grinned, sending Greywolf a triumphant look.
"For the samples," Charlie said pointedly.
"You’re killing me! Here I’ve wined and dined you in the finest establishment and all you can think of is work!" Dr. Bob said teasingly.
Charlie forced a smile at his effort, although she didn’t find it particularly amusing. "Dinner’s on me," she said tightly, pulling a bill out of her wallet and tossing it onto the table top.
The doctor glanced at the bill and then up at her again. His smile remained firmly in place, but there was a glint of anger in his eyes now. "Now, that’s what I need, a lady that’ll keep me in style."
"Around eight?"
Dr. Bob’s smile widened to a grin. "Lady, you’re as tenacious as a bull terrier ... Eight it is."
There would be no samples. Charlie saw that. She’d blown it, let her irritation goad her into losing her cool. It hadn’t helped that Chief Tall Tree had decided to crowd her and completely thrown her off kilter. She sent him a look of resentment.
He got up abruptly and moved the chair so she could clamber out of the bench seat.
She could feel his gaze all the way to the door. She smoothed her hand over the seat of her britches self-consciously. By the time she reached the door, she felt like she’d forgotten how to walk and her ass had a bulls eye on it. She tripped going out the door. Fortunately, she had a firm grip on the door handle and her foot merely wobbled in her high heel. It gave her a start, however, realizing how closely she’d come to turning her ankle, unsettling her even more.
She was huffing like a steam engine by the time she reached her car, unlocked it and crawled in. Instead of starting it, she sat staring at the darkness beyond the hood, trying to thrust Greywolf from her mind, trying to decide what to do.
She might be misjudging Dr. Bob. She hadn’t really been around him long enough to know him.
Part of her job was reading people, however.
He wasn’t going to give her those damned samples. She would arrive, pretend forgetfulness and the body would already be gone.
Hindsight was always twenty/twenty. She realized she should’ve asked him to let her take samples herself while they were still in the lab.
She hadn’t wanted to seem too pushy, though. It set people’s backs up, made them uncooperative.
So much for trying to butter him up by letting him come on to her. She’d botched that smashingly.
Sighing in disgust, she fished her keys out and started the car. She’d seen a hotel back on the highway before she’d turned onto reservation land. It was a good twenty miles, but she couldn’t recall having seen a hotel since she’d gotten into town.
She’d already driven past the clinic when the thought popped into her mind. She slowed the car, glanced speculatively at the building in her rearview mirror. Her heart tripped into overtime when she realized she was considering breaking into the building and retrieving her own samples.
She stepped on the gas again, but slowed at the next corner and turned. Turning at the next intersection, she drove past the back side of the clinic. Except for the bare minimum lights that had been left on to discourage burglars, the building looked dark and completely deserted.
She saw a van as she pulled into the parking lot, however.
It must be the cleaning crew, she decided. Pulling out again, she circled the block and finally parked about halfway down the block, watching the van in her rearview mirror.
"This is stupid," she muttered to herself. If she got caught there’d be hell to pay.
If she didn’t get the samples, she had no case.
Movement at the door of the clinic caught her attention and clinched the matter. The cleaning crew was leaving. She debated, briefly, just driving up to them, flashing her badge and telling them she had to go in for something.
If she did that, though, it seemed likely Dr. Bob would find out and call the agency raising hell about her after hours incursion.
She settled back, sliding low in the seat as the van pulled past her.
As soon as they turned the corner at the end of the block, she got out of the car and strode briskly toward the clinic, glancing around occasionally to make certain no one was around.
Apparently everyone was either at home or down at the tavern. The streets were deserted.
She ex
amined the entrance when she reached it. The door had a dead bolt lock. It was wired, too. She compressed her lips in disgust and glanced around again. Seeing no one, she moved around the building, checking each window. She’d gotten made it down one side when she made an interesting discovery. The wire on the window was broken.
Excitement washed over her. The security system was a sham. Evidently, it had been functional at one time, but had deteriorated and not been kept up. In most cases she supposed it would be a deterrent anyway. She’d thought it was a working burglar alarm. Most likely anybody that looked at it would.
The window was high, too high for her to climb into it. She considered it for several moments, but she liked this window. Despite the drawback, it was pretty much concealed from either street. Since it was the service alley, it was blocked from the buildings beside it by a tall fence and there was a large dumpster near each end, providing more cover from people passing on either street.
Rising up on her tiptoes, she began shoving at the window. Slowly, it inched upward, baring a small crack. She was just trying to decide whether to hunt something to use for leverage when she was caught from behind.
She grunted, more in surprise than pain as both of her wrists were seized and her arms jerked out to each side, held with a vice-like grip than manacled her wrists to the wall on either side of the window she’d been trying to jimmy. A mixture of alarm and excitement went through her as he enveloped her in the moist heat and scent of his hard body, molding every hard, sculpted muscle on his legs, torso and arms into every inch of her own body as he captured her between himself and the unyielding wall. Her heart pounded in her chest like a jack hammer, pumping her blood through her veins in a roar that crashed against her eardrums deafeningly as he dipped his head and she felt his breath near her ear.
Chapter Five
Charlie tried to wrest free, but found she could scarcely move in any direction. Her thoughts were chaotic with the assault of sensations. The spurt of adrenaline that rushed through her sapped the strength from her limps, left her dizzy and disoriented, made her instincts sluggish. "What are you doing here?" she gasped shakily, unable to infuse any authority into her voice.
"That’s exactly what I wanted to ask you," he murmured, his voice husky with both threat and promise.
From somewhere, Charlie managed to summon enough anger to lift the haze of disorientation fractionally and, as she felt him lift his head, she leaned her own forward, slamming the hard part of her skull back against him and lifting her foot to drive her heel into his at the same time.
Luck was with him, or he’d anticipated such a move. His feet were planted wide enough apart that she missed her target. Moreover, the difference in their heights made her head butt ineffectual. A meaty thunk reverberated in her ears as her skull made contact with hard, bulging pec instead of his face.
He tsked her, the amusement in his voice evident. "You’ll only make this harder on yourself if you try to resist."
The word ‘try’ annoyed her, but as she felt him guiding first one arm and then the other behind her back, renewed alarm surfaced. She didn’t know whether to be alarmed or relieved when he merely manacled her wrists with one of his hands. She felt his free hand skate over her ass, cupping first one cheek and then the other. She jerked reflexively when his hand followed her cleft and a fresh tide of alarm and heat enveloped her. "What are you doing?" she demanded, but her voice, shaky with conflicting emotions, lacked the authority she’d been aiming for.
Instead of answering immediately, he removed his hand and dipped his head close to hers once more. His hot, moist breath fanned along her ear and the skin of her neck as he rocked his hips against her buttocks. She gasped as his erection nudged the cleft of her ass. "Pat down."
Charlie managed to summon a weak dose of outrage, but it shrank away from her as his hand slipped around her waist and glided up her belly to cup first one breast and then the other. Her nipples hardened, thrusting hopefully against his massaging palms.
Releasing her abruptly, he stepped back. Charlie leaned weakly against the wall for a moment, struggling to catch her breath and finally managed to turn to look up at him in the feeble light filtering down the alley from the street lights at either end. Shadows shrouded his face, making it impossible to read his expression as she studied him, trying to decide what sort of threat he represented beyond clouding her judgment with desire that was as unwarranted as it was unwelcome.
"Lady ... don’t look at me that," he said, his voice rough with both threat and promise.
Charlie swallowed with an effort, trying to bring her raging hormones under control.
"I did warn you," he muttered even as he closed in on her once more. Crowding her against the wall behind her, he slipped one arm around her, cupping her buttocks. His other hand settled on her throat, his fingers curling under her jaw and pushing her face up to meet his. Charlie gasped. Dismay and a heady heat rushed through her as his mouth covered hers in a renewed assault to her senses. As if her parted lips were an invitation, he plunged his tongue into her mouth. The moist heat of his mouth, the taste and texture of his tongue as it plundered her own mouth ravaged her with the disorienting sensation of falling into a deep, dark pit. She clutched his arms, struggling against the desire to yield her soul to the devil for the pleasure he offered, so inundated with the clamor of her body for repletion that there was little room in her for clear-headed logic.
Despite that, her sense of self-preservation kicked in and she began to push against him ineffectually.
Finally, reluctantly, he pulled away, relaxing his grip on her. She didn’t dare look up at him, fearful that he’d see the desire that still pulsed through her. "Satisfied?" she finally managed to say shakily.
"Not by a long shot," Greywolf growled.
She glanced up at him sharply and slipped away from him, putting more distance between them. To her relief, he didn’t pursue her. A shiver moved through her at the loss of his heat. "I suppose you consider that getting even with me?"
He lifted a hand that shook slightly and scrubbed it over his face, then rubbed it against his chest. She looked away as he reached down and adjusted himself. "Let’s just say this wasn’t quite what I had in mind," he said tightly.
"You did it to scare me off."
He cocked his head to one side, studying her. "Did I?"
She wasn’t sure whether he was questioning her insight about his motives, or if he was asking if he’d succeeded. "No," she said finally, lifting her chin.
He seemed to relax fractionally, which surprised her. Instead of pursuing the subject, however, he nodded toward the window. "Mind telling me what this is all about."
Charlie flicked a glance toward the window. "Yes."
His lips tightened. "But you will."
"Why should I?"
He moved toward the wall and leaned against it, folding his arms over his chest and crossing his legs. "Because I caught you trying to break into the clinic?" he hazarded a guess.
"It’s your word against mine."
"And who’s word carries more weight around here, do you think?"
Irritation surfaced, but she didn’t doubt he was right. There was no point in trying to deny his accusation either. "I was looking for evidence."
His brows rose. "Against Doc Morris?"
Charlie frowned thoughtfully, but she really had no interest in Dr. Morris’ competence, or lack of it. "I want something to prove conclusively whether that girl that was so brutally butchered was killed by a two legged animal or a four legged one."
"You’re not buying the animal attack?"
Her lips tightened. "I’m not going to discuss this case with you."
"But you don’t really have a case, do you, unless you can prove it was an animal of the two legged variety?"
She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.
"Curiously enough, I was under the impression that you were to meet Doc Morris here in the morning for those samples."
He pushed away from the wall. "Guess you’d feel more comfortable talking to Chief Brown about this."
Charlie grabbed his arm, tugging. "No! Wait!"
He turned back.
"He thinks I’m calling his competence into question and he doesn’t like it. If I believed he’d give me the samples, I wouldn’t be here. But I can’t afford to chance it. Three girls are dead already."
He nodded and moved to the window, shoving the casement up. After a moment of surprise, Charlie surged forward, reached up and gripped the bottom of the sill. Leaning forward, Greywolf locked his fingers together, forming a step for her. As she placed the toe of her shoe on his hands, he lifted her upward and she thrust her head and shoulders through the opening. Before she could wiggle the rest of the way inside, he placed his hand on her bottom and gave her a push. She jumped, lost her balance and tumbled to the floor inside.
She turned to glare at him as he hoisted himself inside. He grinned, displaying a pair of dimples that made her heart flutter uncomfortably. "Thanks," she said tartly.
"My pleasure."
Her eyes narrowed and he chuckled.
"There’s no sense in you risking a burglary charge," she said after a moment.
"There’s a better chance of neither of us getting caught if I help."
Charlie shrugged. "As long as you understand that, if we get caught, there’s probably not much I could do to help you."
His lips tightened, but he said nothing and finally she shrugged, moved to the door and opened it cautiously.
"They don’t have a security guard," Greywolf said, pushing past her and striding purposefully down the hall.
"You know where the morgue is?"
He stopped at the door at the end of the hall and turned to give her a look before he turned the knob and went in. Charlie followed him, peering through the gloom. She jumped when the lights came on abruptly. Whirling, she saw Greywolf standing by the switch. "Do you think that’s such a good idea?"
The Shaman Page 3
