Wind River Wrangler

by Lindsay McKenna

  Sliding the SOG into the black nylon sheath, he set it aside. He’d brought plenty of MREs and there was a creek nearby. Luckily, he had purification tablets on him.

  Anton knew a grizzly lived around the area, and Pine Grove was her territory. When he finally allowed Shiloh to die, he’d dump her body near where he had seen bear scat and leave it there. The grizzly would be getting one hell of a meal eating her up. Bears ate bones as well, so there would be very little of Shiloh left when it was all said and done. One day, someone might stumble upon a few bone fragments up on this hill, but that could be years from now and he would be long gone. Out of this country. Back to Africa, his first love. He would live like a king there.

  So, what should he cut on her first? Anton didn’t want her bleeding out. She’d die too quickly that way. No . . . it had to be something that would terrorize her, but not kill her. Something that would cause her agony. His mind ranged over numerous ways. He was used to skinning and gutting his African animals he’d taken down with his gun. Skinning. Hmmmm, that had possibilities. Skinning Shiloh alive. How perfect. It would cause her horrific pain. It might even make her faint from the pain, but he’d stop the procedure and wait until she became conscious. And then, he’d continue the job.

  * * *

  Shiloh’s hands trembled as she rinsed off her lunch dishes to put them into the dishwasher. Her mind was going wild, leaping from here to there. She’d been able to identify the two guns for Roan that Leath had in their apartment when her mother was alive. Roan was pleased and sent the JPEG images directly to Sarah at the sheriff’s office. Then, he’d told her to get workout gear and meet him in the gym. There, he’d shown her some Special Forces close quarters combat moves that could incapacitate someone who was charging her, trying to grab and capture her. She’d worked an hour getting accustomed to the moves until Roan was satisfied. Her muscles were tight afterward. Inwardly, she felt trapped once again.

  And now, Roan had gone into town because Sarah had asked to see him. She’d seen him hesitate at the request because she knew he didn’t want to leave her alone. At the same time, Roan didn’t want her seen out in public, so she couldn’t ride into town with him. Shiloh had persuaded him she’d be all right, feeling that Anton would never know she was here. How could he? Roan wasn’t fully convinced of her argument, but reluctantly left, promising to remain in cell phone touch with her once an hour to make sure she was all right. Shiloh felt he was overreacting. This cabin was hidden from everyone. Very few people even knew it existed.

  Looking out the window, she saw the noontime sunlight overhead, making the green pastures around the cabin look emerald. There were no trees in the pastures and no cattle right now. The five acres the cabin sat on were bracketed to the north and west of it. Straight ahead, to the east was open ranch land without fences. In the distance, Shiloh could see the mountain peaks of the Salt River Range. To the south of the cabin, a half a mile away, sat Pine Grove. Earlier, Roan had told her that no one could sneak up on the cabin and explained why. It had made her feel better. More settled.

  She knew she wouldn’t be able to write today, she was too upset over the situation with Anton Leath. Roan had made sure that the deadbolt locks on the front and back doors worked and had asked her to keep them locked when he was gone. Further, he’d checked all the windows and made sure they were locked as well. Shiloh felt trapped, Hunted, just as she’d felt in her small apartment.

  She had to do SOMETHING. Anything to get her mind off what was going on around her. What would Roan find out from Sarah? Did they know where the monster who was stalking her was at? Had they located Leath? Roan had promised to call her and Shiloh waited on tenterhooks, her iPhone in her pocket, never to leave her side.

  Unable to remain quiet, far too restless and nervous, Shiloh decided to deep-clean the cabin. Not that it needed it. It was brand-new, never been lived in before she stepped into it with Roan. But she couldn’t remain sitting. She felt like a target, her gaze darting from one window to another. Shiloh hated the idea of pulling the drapes and curtains across all the windows. She loved the light that flooded the cabin, making it so alive and beautiful with color and radiance. For her to close the curtains would be admitting she was scared out of her mind. So, she kept looking at the windows from time to time as she dusted, frightened if she saw Leath’s big, heavy face, his heavy-lidded eyes staring back at her.

  She was coming apart at the seams. Shiloh’s imagination was going wild and she could barely control it as her hands shook as she took the dustcloth over the coffee table.

  The phone rang.

  Jerking, a gasp escaping her, Shiloh dropped the cloth. She jammed her hand into her pocket, frantic to pick up the iPhone.

  “Roan?” she asked, her voice low and strained.

  “Yes, it’s me. How are you doing?”

  Shiloh grimaced. “Not well. My damned imagination is scaring the hell out of me. Did you find out anything about Leath?”

  “A couple of things. No one has seen him. With the rifles you identified and the pictures I sent to Sarah, there’s one gun shop here who sold a .300 Winchester Magnum, to a man. It wasn’t Leath. Sarah thinks he was a shill who was sent to buy it and they’ve got the man in custody and are talking to him right now. He did identify Leath’s picture. The sheriff’s artist put out an updated drawing of him with the brown beard and hair. The man said he was the one who gave him money to go buy the weapons.”

  Her hand crept against her neck. Throat tight, Shiloh asked, “How many guns did he buy?”

  “He’s got a pistol and the .300 Win Mag. The man in custody said he also bought a SOG.”

  “What’s a SOG?”

  “It’s a black ops knife that a lot of operators prefer when they’re hunting tangos. It’s a short blade, maybe seven inches long, but very easy to maneuver in tight quarters.”

  Shiloh’s stomach clenched. “Oh, God, Roan.”

  “What?”

  “Anton had an arsenal of knives when he lived with us.”

  “You’d mentioned that to me earlier. Does that SOG ring a bell?”

  Tightly shutting her eyes, her voice tight and low, she said, “Yes. It was his favorite knife. He called it a gutting knife. He used to try to tell me about how he gutted his kills over in Africa. My mother would walk in and hear him telling me this horrible stuff, get angry, and tell him to shut up, that it was upsetting me.”

  “What a sick bastard. Your mother was right to stop him.”

  “Yes, well, believe me, I had nightmares for months after that because he described it in such awful, bloody detail.”

  “So, he had a SOG knife?”

  “Yes.”

  “What kind? Do you remember?”

  “I-I don’t . . .”

  “If I sent a JPEG of the knife to your phone, could you look at it and see?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hold on . . .”

  Shiloh saw the color photo of the knife pop up on her screen. “Yes, that’s it.”

  “It’s a SOG SEAL knife,” Roan said.

  She heard the grimness in his tone and it sent chills scattering through her spine. “What does it mean?”

  “It means nothing at this point, Shiloh.”

  “Did they find Leath’s rental car?”

  “Yes. It was abandoned alongside the highway at a rest stop about two miles from the town of Wind River. It was dusted for prints and they are his prints.”

  Frowning, she said, “Then where did he go?”

  “Might have hitchhiked. Thumbed a ride from a passing car. Or an eighteen-wheeler. No one knows. Sarah has distributed the updated picture of Leath to the Forest Service at the Salt Range and Grand Tetons headquarters. Ray Paulson, the supervisor, is sending it out by e-mail to all his rangers. The rangers are going into the camping sites and asking campers if they’ve seen him. There’s a huge net starting to be created, Shiloh. Sooner or later, someone will have seen Leath. It’s just a question of when and where.”r />
  She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad news. Rubbing her neck, she muttered, “I can feel him around, Roan. I swear . . . I can. Sometimes, I think it’s my imagination gone wild. Other times, I know he’s nearby.”

  “I don’t disbelieve you,” he said heavily. “Remember? The cabin sits out in a flat area. You can see someone coming from a long ways away.”

  Swallowing against her tight throat, Shiloh nodded, warily gazing around, looking at each window to see if she saw anyone standing there looking in on her. “Yes, I remember.”

  “The car rental company manager identified Leath from the original color photo of him. At that time, he had his blond hair. Sarah said he later dyed it brown after arriving here.”

  “That’s good to know. To me, it means he intends to stick around. He’s trying to camouflage himself so he can’t be identified.”

  “Right.”

  She chewed on her lower lip. “When are you coming home?”

  “Soon. Can I get you anything from town?”

  Shiloh thought of a lot of smart rejoinders but said, “No, just you. I feel better when you’re here with me.”

  “So do I, Darlin’. I’ll call you when I’m on my way out of town. I’ll be there shortly. I like coming home to you.”

  HOME.

  Shiloh ended the call and slipped the iPhone into her pocket. Home. She gazed around the radiant cabin, absorbing the reddish-gold color of the main logs above her head. Roan had made this cabin with his own hands, his own sweat, following a dream. And he’d manifested that dream into this incredible cabin. And it was a home with them in it, she realized. It felt right to Shiloh. And good.

  If only Leath would be caught.

  * * *

  Shiloh sensed Anton Leath around. She didn’t know where, but she could feel his dark presence as she continued to clean the cabin. Her mind was whirling with all kinds of dreaded scenarios. Most of all, Shiloh couldn’t get the vivid murder of her mother out of her mind. In the background, she heard the rumbling of a thunderstorm. It wasn’t unusual, Roan had told her. They were created by the jagged-toothed Wilson Range mountains and then would roll furiously across the valley, pouring inches of rain over the lush, grassy area.

  Hesitating, she went to the window and saw a huge, dark mass of roiling clouds blowing over the Western mountain range, coming directly her way. She loved thunderstorms and loved to run up to the top of the building, stand beneath an overhang, and watch one march across the city. Lightning didn’t scare her and she loved to feel rain against her face. It always made her feel so alive. There was a massive, wide curtain of dark rain beneath the thunderhead as it rushed toward the cabin. A little excitement replaced her worry and anxiety.

  When it got closer, Shiloh was going to sneak out the back door, stand on the rear porch, and watch it just as she watched them in Manhattan. Judging from the speed of the storm, it would be here very shortly, sweeping across the Idaho border, heading east toward them. She was sure the town of Wind River was taking a beating of wind and rain, lightning often striking the area.

  Her iPhone rang again.

  “Hello?”

  “Shiloh? It’s Roan. I’m going to be late. We just got hit by a big thunderstorm and it looks like it’s headed directly for the Wind River Ranch. The streets are flooded and there’s all kinds of traffic snarl. There’s also two accidents just outside of town on Highway 89 north. I’m stuck here on the highway while they get the ambulance to get people out of those two cars. I’m sorry.”

  She smiled a little, going to the back door, looking out the small window in the massive door at the storm. “Funny, I heard the rumble of thunder and I went out back to look and saw it over the town. I figured Wind River was getting slammed by the weather.”

  Roan laughed a little. “Yeah, this is one of those spring storms that plays hell on everything and everybody. You haven’t seen them in action. Looks like it’s heading directly toward our cabin from what I can see.”

  “Yes, it is. Fast, too.”

  “There’s going to be a lot of local flooding,” Roan warned her. “That cabin sits out on a flat valley floor and this is a downpour. It’s going to turn grass into mud so don’t go outside. Okay?”

  “I thought I might go out the back door, stand under the porch roof, and watch it. I love storms. You okay with that?”

  “Sure. So you’re a storm lover? Something I didn’t know about you.”

  Her heart warmed and swelled with love for Roan. “As a kid, I’d always beg my parents to take me for a walk out in the rain when there was a storm in the city. I’ve always loved the wind, rain, thunder, and lightning. I was never afraid of it.”

  “Well, the thunderstorms over the Rockies can be brutal and dangerous, Darlin’. Just don’t go out walking in it. Okay? We get a number of tourists killed every year because they’re caught out in the Salt Range mountains and lightning strikes them.”

  “No worries. I’ll just stick to the porch.”

  “Good. I’ll give you a call when I can get out of this tangled mess on the highway. It’s probably going to take an hour.”

  She laughed a little. “Turn around and go back to Kassie’s Café and get some lunch. Might as well make good use of your time there.”

  Roan chuckled. “That’s a good idea. I’ll be in touch. . . .”

  She pressed off the phone call, feeling warmth replace her anxiety. Shiloh didn’t want to spook Roan by confiding in him that she felt Anton nearby. There was nothing he could do about it, anyway. She pushed the phone down into her jean pocket and went back to work dusting the living room. Wanting to tell Roan while on the phone that she had fallen in love him, Shiloh wished she were more bold about it. He was a good man and he cared for her. She could remember when her father was going to be delayed on a flight or caught up in city traffic, that he would always call her mother so she wouldn’t worry. Yes, Roan did love her.

  Some of her anxiety bled off as she busied herself. The rumble of the thunder was rapidly drawing near. She luxuriated in the growling, rolling noise. This would be her first Wyoming thunderstorm. And although they got some powerful storms in New York City, she sensed this one was different in every way. Perhaps, untamed. Wild. Unpredictable. Just like the West. There was nothing sedate, orderly, or controlled about the West compared to the East. Her mind ranged over the differences between Easterners and Westerners. The East was tamed first by people coming from Europe. It had over a hundred years of settlement before pioneers started pushing West.

  Finished with the dusting, Shiloh washed her hands and put the cloth away in the pantry. The thunder was so close that she could feel the fine vibration of the sound rippling through the cabin. She loved that sensation, glorying in it. Going to the kitchen sink to wash her hands, she saw how suddenly dark the sky had become. The sunlight had been snuffed out, and roiling gray, black, and gunmetal-colored clouds were ominously forming over the valley, above the cabin. She was mesmerized at how fast the clouds were moving. Quickly drying her hands, Shiloh went to the closet, pulled out her Levi’s jacket, and shrugged it on. She had her hiking boots on and between the two she’d be protected against any rain that might be swirling round, pushed by the wind.

  Walking excitedly down the hall, she peeked out the window, making sure no one was out there on the large back porch. The lush grass was whipping around like living hair on the skin of the earth, driven by the approaching storm. It was almost black as the center of the storm was nearly upon the cabin. Thrilled, Shiloh stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind her.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The wind gusted sharply, lifting Shiloh’s hair, which was pulled back into a ponytail, as she turned around. Excited, absorbing the massive gray cloud that was nearly upon the cabin, she knew it meant a serious wall of wind would strike shortly. The breadth of the veil beneath the churning black and gray clouds that slowly seemed to rotate clockwise beneath the unseen cumulus far above reminded her of a tornado in th
e making. It scared but thrilled her. The scent of rain was heavy on the air. The lush grass, which always reminded her of a woman’s long, flowing hair, was laid flat against the earth as the first powerful gust struck the cabin. It pushed her back against the door, the wind howling and fierce.

  The entire area suddenly became dark. The wall cloud was thick, circular, and striking the area where the cabin sat. Trees to her left bent and groaned, the wind at least seventy to eighty miles an hour. The air was cold, cutting and howling around her, pummeling her body like invisible fists. She saw upper branches on the cottonwood trees snap, break, and sail off into the wind, carried across the yard. These weren’t little branches. They were huge, massive limbs!

  Her excitement mixed with awe and a little fear as she’d never experienced a storm of this mega proportion. Just as Shiloh turned to open the door to seek shelter, she caught a shadow out of the corner of her eye. A hand gripped her by the neck, fingers digging deep, hurling her off the porch, slamming her into the grass.

  Gasping, Shiloh nearly lost consciousness, her head crashing into the hard earth. Eyes widening, she saw Anton Leath grinning savagely at her. He was in military camos, a knife in his gloved right hand. A strangled sound lurched out of her. Shiloh rolled, trying to get away from his hand snaking out to grab her.

  “Bitch,” Anton growled, gripping her by the shoulder, easily hauling her slight frame up into a standing position. He saw the terror in Shiloh’s huge, shocked eyes. His lips twisted as he sank his fingers deep into her shoulder, watching pain flicker in her face. Thrusting the knife to her throat, the tip drawing blood just beneath her jawline, he snarled, “Fight me and I’ll gut you right here. Now be a good girl and come with me.”

  Panic seized Shiloh. The wind roared around them, pummeling her. Rain suddenly unleashed from the dark, heavy skies. Pain serrated through her shoulder. “No!” she cried, trying to fight.

  Leath snarled a curse, released her, and took the butt of the knife, striking her in the temple. He heard her shriek and collapse unconscious to the ground. Rain splattered him and he wiped his face, quickly looking around. The storm was perfect cover for him. Sliding the knife into a sheath on his right leg, he leaned down, picked up Shiloh, and lobbed her into a fireman’s carry across his thick, broad shoulders. The rain was quickening, striking at his body like bullets being fired. He had half a mile to make it under the cover of this bastard of a thunderstorm. Even better, as he started off at a slow, unwieldy trot, his footprints would be washed out by the massive storm and no one would ever know he’d been here. Grinning, he hunkered and crouched, Shiloh’s weight making him keep a slow, steady pace. He’d hit her hard enough, stunned her in the temple, that she wouldn’t regain consciousness, he hoped, until he reached the hill where his hide was.