Pursue

by Vella Munn

  “I’m not sure why I pulled out the picture I’d taken of Hope the day I found her. I hadn’t formulated how I wanted to approach that. O’Neil had been pushing me to admit I believed the Moyans deserved to die. I wanted him to grasp what I’d been through and how that colored my thinking, only I’m not the one who matters. Hope and Mist are.”

  He imagined her holding up her cell phone with less than steady fingers while fighting the emotions banking inside her. If she’d wanted to protect herself from the wrench of replaying that in addition to what he’d exposed her to today, she shouldn’t have met with O’Neil until she’d felt stronger, but the deed had been done.

  “Why didn’t you explain how you were able to find them?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Stop pushing me.” She sat straighter. “Do you have to ask? My relationship with the grays isn’t for public knowledge. The focus has to be on getting someone to either admit they owned Hope or for someone to point a finger that law enforcement can do something with.”

  “If that happens, the grays might find out. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe.”

  Instead of saying anything, he patted his knee to get Chinook’s attention. The Doberman looked at him but didn’t move. Whether Niko wanted the grays to go after Hope’s owner was a moot point. It wasn’t as if she controlled them. But, because of her heritage, there might be some connection he couldn’t grasp. What do I mean, ‘might’? There is.

  “O’Neil said the only thing you did was describe where you found the horses and how you got them to Doc Beck. You left it up to viewers to decide what, if anything, to do with that information.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Don’t be surprised if O’Neil comes up with a theory that involves the grays.”

  She smiled. “That’s his decision.”

  “It’s also what you want.”

  She shook her head. “What would you have me do, let Hope die without trying to make someone accountable?”

  He hadn’t come here to pick a fight with her. Truth was, he’d gotten into his vehicle because he hadn’t wanted her to be alone when her interview aired.

  “I’ve fielded a lot of calls since Cheryl’s death became public knowledge,” he said. “What I’m hearing isn’t much different from the public sentiment that was expressed this summer. People are afraid of the grays, but many approve of their actions. Most people love animals. They have nothing but loathing for abusers.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I want you to be prepared in case we learn who Hope belonged to.”

  “We?”

  “Yes. However, that information will be Hank’s responsibility.”

  “Or the grays’.”

  This time when he patted his knee, Chinook came over. He slid his hand between her ears. “I swear the grays are part of every conversation we have. Don’t you want to talk about something else?”

  She worried the inside of her mouth. “Yes, I do.”

  “Such as?”

  “Don’t—like how much longer is it supposed to rain and when’s the best time of year to go to Yellowstone and Yosemite.”

  “Early spring and late fall because there aren’t many tourists. As for the rain, it’s here for a while.”

  Her second smile started more slowly than the first but encompassed more of her face. He was no longer sure why he’d decided to see her. Maybe it wasn’t simply to warn her that she was going to be the highlight of the eleven o’clock news.

  “I should be relieved that the storms mean this year’s fire season is behind us,” she said, “but I’m not ready for mud.”

  “You aren’t the one whose job takes you off paved roads, I am.”

  Features still loose, she studied Chinook. “She’s warming up to you. It usually takes her a while to decide whether a human lives up to her standards.”

  “Maybe that’s because she knows our IQs are about the same.”

  Niko’s cell phone, which she’d placed on the table near the Hopi folder, buzzed. She spun the phone around but didn’t touch a button.

  “Channel twenty,” she said.

  Channel twenty was the regional station with the largest viewership. Most likely they were trying to get a quote from her prior to the broadcast. He was glad she wasn’t answering. The interruption might mean the end to a conversation about national parks and rainy seasons.

  “How do you feel about our watching the news together?” he asked.

  She stared at her feet as if she had no idea what had happened to her shoes. “It’s all right.”

  ‘All right’ was better than he’d anticipated getting, yet not what he needed. Something about her made him think of deer. One moment a doe would gaze at him as if he was a mildly interesting stranger. The next she’d bolt and flee. But during those seconds when he looked into huge dark eyes, he believed there was a connection between them, that he’d become half wild simply from being in the creature’s presence.

  Niko wasn’t wild, but neither was she like any other woman he’d ever met. No wonder the grays had chosen her to rescue Hope—that and the fact that she was Native American.

  “You’re staring at me,” she said.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  Tempted as he was to tell her, he didn’t. “I’m trying to decide whether you’d get the most out of Yellowstone or Yosemite.”

  “Does it have to be one or the other?”

  “No, of course not. I’m familiar with Yellowstone. I’d love to show it to you.”

  She glanced at her hands on her lap, then at him. “It wouldn’t bother you? No bad vibes from returning to where you were injured?”

  “The wilderness didn’t hurt me. My inattention did.”

  “That and your love for Jenice.”

  “Love? Now that it’s past tense, I’m not sure what my feelings were. It didn’t spell the end to my life as I knew it when we broke up.”

  Was it his imagination, or had her mouth parted a little? Maybe she’d been wanting to hear him say something like that—and maybe he was putting thoughts in her mind that didn’t exist.

  “What about you? Any serious relationships in your past?” he asked.

  “I thought so at the time. Looking back, not so much.”

  * * * *

  Darick hadn’t said anything in response to her admission about less-than-earth-shattering relationships. Instead, he’d asked to use the bathroom. Once he was out of sight, she closed her eyes and tried to recall what she’d told O’Neil. Instead, Darick’s features filled her mind’s eye. She should have sent him on his way, shouldn’t be anticipating watching the news with him.

  Him. In her house as the hour approached eleven at night. With no idea what might happen once the broadcast was over. All hell could break loose in the morning, but not now. It was just the two of them and Chinook, who’d jumped onto the couch.

  Restless, she got up and walked over to the window. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d pulled the drapes and felt no need to do so now. Maybe if the media came. Maybe if she didn’t want Grandpa knowing if she did something reckless, like kissing Darick.

  She sensed him only inches away. If she was sane, she’d leave. Instead, she took a backward step so she came in contact with his chest. He wrapped an arm around her, increasing the contact. When he inhaled, so did she.

  “I envy you living here,” he said.

  “I love it.” She couldn’t say she was looking at anything, but how could she when his presence dominated? Even Masauwu or the grays couldn’t get through. “I sometimes get restless. All right, I’m often antsy wanting to try something new, but I’m always ready to return.”

  “What about when your grandfather dies? Do you think you’ll feel the same way?”

  Grandpa was supposed to live forever. “I don’t know.”

  “Not something you want to think about?
”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  Neither of them spoke after that, but the silence didn’t make her uncomfortable. No matter what happened going forward, right now would define their relationship in ways they’d never forget. Darick Creech had become a core part of her world. He understood her in ways she’d never fathomed a man could. Maybe that was why her romances had eased away to nothing. Either the men hadn’t tried to reach beyond the surface or she hadn’t let them.

  She and Darick weren’t lovers, not yet, but he got her. Beyond that, he’d told her how compassion and concern had compromised his back and that he might always believe he’d failed his sister. A man didn’t tell an acquaintance those things.

  “Where is Harmony now?” she asked.

  “Harmony.” He took another long breath. “She got engaged several months ago. He’s a good man.”

  “Does he know about her past?”

  “Yes. He understands what it took for her to trust him. She’s moving forward. Planning a wedding and starting to talk again about having children.”

  Children. What she wanted in ways she had no words for, just deep and abiding emotion. Would the day come when she felt safe telling Darick about her dreams of cradling an infant to her breasts?

  Maybe.

  “It’s nearly eleven,” he said. “I have no doubt you’ll be the lead story.”

  She sensed he wanted her to return to her chair, but she’d have to start by turning around when it felt right to stay like they were.

  “I think I’m changing my mind about wanting this storm to be over,” she said. “It’s quieting and slowing the world. I need that.”

  “So do I.”

  They remained in place as rain continued to flood the ground. Her awareness of Darick remained high, part wonder and part excitement. She hadn’t felt like a woman for so long. The sensation both simplified and complicated her life. She might not fully trust him and didn’t expect it to be any different for him, but now that didn’t matter. Only his presence did.

  “Maybe you don’t want to watch,” he said.

  “I have to. So do you.”

  He took her hand and guided her to her chair. Then he turned on the TV and positioned himself so he could watch both the TV and her.

  Seeing her face on the screen was a shock. She wasn’t speaking, just staring at the camera while a disembodied voice announced that the station had an exclusive interview that would add a new and vital dimension to the two recent killings.

  “Be prepared for that to run for several days,” Darick said, as a commercial came on. “A lot of this is about ratings. It’s also a hell of a story.”

  “I know.”

  After several interminable ads, the handsome male anchor announced there were dramatic new details in the recent deaths that had captured the county’s attention. He gave a wrap-up of Cheryl’s and James’ murders, including speculation that the grays were responsible even though law enforcement wasn’t saying much. That was followed by interviews with the animal abuse investigator and Doc Beck. Hank said that the Moyans had owned but abused and neglected a young dog, which was why he’d gotten involved. With the Moyans dead, his investigation was over, but he was grateful to the unnamed citizen who’d taken the injured dog to the vet. A grim-eyed Doc Beck described the condition the dog had been in and the dramatic improvement once the collar had been removed.

  “Fortunately, I seldom see that kind of neglect or abuse,” the vet said, “but it makes an impact on me and my staff. We’re here to help animals. Trying to rectify something that didn’t have to happen is the hardest part of our job.” He stared into the camera.

  “Sadly, the dog we’ve named Hound isn’t the only such case I’ve had to deal with lately. There’s an even more shocking situation. Unfortunately, I’m not sure that victim will live.”

  “Hope,” Niko whispered.

  Darick had started to reply when she came back on the screen. The anchor identified her then explained she had a shocking perspective on the second situation Doc Beck had talked about. O’Neil was off-camera as he interviewed her.

  Niko didn’t think she’d ever looked angrier as she held up her cell phone with Hope’s picture and spelled out what she’d found at the campground and what it had taken to get the mare and newborn to the vet.

  “I couldn’t let it go,” she said. “Maybe I should have left trying to expose the responsible party up to Hank, but Hope and Mist got to me.”

  “So you tried to find the owner?” O’Neil asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  The video stopped and another ad came on. “What else did you say?” Darick asked.

  “That’s when I ended the interview. I want the original picture to speak for itself.”

  “It’s powerful. Hopefully the morning news will include current shots of how Hope looks.”

  If she’s still alive. “How do reporters do it? Having to interview people in crises all the time—I don’t think I could.”

  “You saved three lives. You can do anything.”

  “I don’t ever want to have to again.”

  He took her hand and squeezed it. “You don’t have to—unless the grays aren’t done with you.” He squeezed again. “At least that isn’t going to happen tonight.”

  You don’t know. Neither do I. She stared at a commercial for an auto dealership, followed by a number of ads that didn’t make an impact. Then the anchor returned. According to him, the station’s reporters were working on the story and would provide more details the moment they became available. Then he drew comparisons between now and what had happened last summer.

  “You notice he didn’t point out that none of the grays have been captured or killed,” Darick said. “Not that he needs to.”

  Darick’s hand still covered hers. She wasn’t sure what she had in mind when she turned her hand over and laced her fingers through his.

  “What happens now?” he asked. “Do I go home?”

  She’d made what seemed like a million decisions lately. This one was both the hardest and easiest. “I don’t want you to.”

  * * * *

  It was so easy, two hand-holding people walking into her bedroom. Darick took off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head. After placing the garment at the foot of her bed, he closed his fingers around her sweater’s hem and drew it off her.

  “Before we go any further, I need to tell you something,” he said.

  “More? What is it this time?” His chest was broader than she’d anticipated, with fine hairs dusting most of it. If he turned away, she’d probably be able to see the scar running down his back. Maybe before the night was over, she’d press her mouth to it.

  “I brought along a condom. I didn’t know if anything would happen, but in case…”

  “I’m glad you did.” Her lips didn’t want to work.

  They started touching each other, a light brushing that caused her to shiver and her knees to weaken. She felt as if she was swimming in space, not in connection with herself and yet nowhere else. His chest was warm and hard, his shoulders all muscle and bone. She sighed when he reached behind her and unfastened her bra, then sighed again when he touched her breasts. She wanted him on top of her, inside her, blanketing her body with his. Waiting, exploring his body and having him do the same to her was hard, yet it was right, perfect. All barriers cast aside because only primitive drive and madness mattered.

  She was a woman, and he was a man. The world beyond her bedroom didn’t exist on this rain-washed night. She didn’t have to think. Things would simply happen. She discarded her socks. He unfastened and unzipped her jeans and drew them off her hips. That done, he slipped his fingers under her panties’ waistband. She gripped his upper arms, spread her legs and turned everything over to him.

  After stroking her sex until her every breath became a pant, he abandoned her long enough to shed the rest of his clothes. Then he lifted her onto the bed and removed her panties. She rolled tow
ard him as he put on the condom. Moments later he was on the bed with her, his hand between her legs and his hot breath on her breasts. As he stroked her wet core, she did the same to his inner thighs, held him, fingered him.

  “Now?” he whispered.

  “Now.”

  He placed himself at her entrance and slipped in, filled her, fulfilled her. They rolled together until he was on top. She wrapped her legs around him, pressed her fingertips into his shoulder blades, and rode with him.

  Sweat coated his straining body. She held onto him with all her strength, hips in constant movement, losing herself.

  She started to climax, tried to draw out the explosion then surrendered to the wonder her body had become, crying out as she did. His deeper cry echoed hers.

  * * * *

  Darick was heading for Niko’s bathroom early the next morning when the sound of his cell phone stopped him. Seeing that it was Hank, he turned on the speaker for Niko’s benefit.

  “I wanted to give you a heads up that I’m on my way to the vet’s office,” the animal abuse investigator said. “Doc got a call from a woman who says Hope is hers. She’s insisting on seeing the mare this morning.”

  Niko glared at the phone and shook her head. “She must have seen the picture Niko took,” Darick told Hank. “Any idea when she’ll show up?”

  “Doc thinks it’ll be soon. At this point it isn’t a law enforcement issue, so I’m not asking them to get involved.”

  “But you’d like me to?”

  “Yes, I would. You know, it’d be interesting to see this woman’s reaction if Niko confronted her.”

  “Do you want her to?”

  “The rulebook doesn’t cover this.”

  “But if she happened to show up about the same time the woman did?”