by Gail Koger
I dove behind a smelly dumpster as they exchanged gunfire. Bullets pinged off the metal.
Holy hell! I was a shit magnet.
Gangster Paradise echoed in my bag. I pulled it out and whispered, “Help!”
Derek snapped, “Where are you?”
“Don’t you know?”
“Zelda,” he growled in warning.
“Alley behind The Best Whore House.”
Another volley of bullets slammed into the dumpster and I cringed in terror.
“Is that gunfire?”
“Un-huh, could you hurry?”
“You’re not going to be able to sit down for a week,” Derek snarled and disconnected.
“Police! Drop your guns.”
Oh thank God!
“Drop it! Now,” a cop yelled.
“I want my kiss,” the old guy yelled and his shotgun boomed again.
A wild barrage of gunfire erupted in the alley.
That demon seemed real determined to kill his host.
A tomb-like silence fell.
In the distance, sirens began to wail.
I risked a peek around the dumpster.
The old guy lay unmoving in a pool of blood.
Guess he was joining Pirate John and Peg Leg Pete in hell.
My simple little mission had turned into a major cluster fuck.
To make it a complete FUBAR or as us civilians like to say, ‘fucked up beyond all recognition;’ the stupid bounty hunters had taken refuge behind an old piece of crap Plymouth.
“Toss your weapons out and put your hands over your head,” the cop commanded.
The bounty hunters responded with a hail of lead.
Testosterone raised its ugly head once again.
Did they want a one way trip to hell, too?
Shit! I flinched as bullets zinged crazily around me. The dumpster was rapidly turning into a sieve.
I had to get out of here.
Granny materialized next to me. “Wherever you go, disaster soon follows.”
I did a double take on her hooker outfit and hissed, “Can we save the lecture for later?
“I will distract them and you run as fast as you can.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
She vanished and a second later, I heard a thunderous roar.
The gunfire stopped abruptly.
In my mind, I saw Asmoday’s double standing in the alley, his teeth bared in a menacing snarl.
A voice cried, “Holy Mother of God, what is that!”
“Don’t know. Don’t care. Kill it,” another man shouted.
“Run,” Granny Annabel ordered.
“Color me gone.” I ran and thirty seconds later, all hell broke loose. Bullets whizzed past my head and I hit the deck.
My grandmother hissed, “Go!”
“I’m going. I’m going.” On my hands and knees, I crawled down the alley, wishing I had some body armor.
Two big, booted feet stepped in front of me.
My luck was truly phenomenal. I stared up at a tall, tattoo covered goon looming over me. Geeze, his face looked like a pin cushion with all those icky piercings. How did he shave or blow his nose?
The goon grinned, exposing gold teeth. “Well, lookie what we’ve got here.”
A second thug, wearing a purple Mohawk, stepped out of the inky darkness. “Looks like we hit the jackpot.”
Lucky me.
The goon yanked me to my feet and clamped a pair of handcuffs on. “Your aunt is right eager to get her hands on you.”
“I just bet she is.” Wonder if she had warned him about me being an escape artist?
They dragged me down the alley without searching me or my bag.
Idiots like these made my job so much easier.
Popping the cuffs off, I wrapped them around my knuckles, spun and punched the goon square in the nose.
“You fucking bitch!” He swung at me.
I ducked and the goon hit his partner right in the kisser. Mohawk’s head snapped back and down he went.
“I’m gonna beat you senseless,” the goon bellowed, lunging for me.
Side-stepping his lunge, I stuck my foot out and tripped him. Before he could get up, I zapped him with my stun gun.
Blood running down his face, Mohawk jumped to his feet and pulled out a big Bowie knife. “I’m gonna gut ya.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up. The cavalry had arrived in the nick of time. “No. You won’t. Cuz if you take one step towards me with that toad sticker, my husband will kill you.”
Mohawk’s eyes bugged out as Derek, Ed and Fabian materialized out of the darkness. Each man had a menacing expression on their faces and a silenced Glock pistol pointed at his heart.
With an audible gulp, Mohawk dropped his knife and held his hands up. “Don’t shoot! I give up.”
Smart guy. You never bring a knife to a gun fight.
Derek stepped in front of me. “No one touches my wife.” He rammed a balled fist into Mohawk’s stomach.
The air ooofed out of him and he doubled over.
My husband finished him off with a karate chop to the back of his neck. “No one.”
I took a wary step back when Derek turned around. He had on his scary face. Not being a complete moron, I quickly babbled, “I promise, cross my heart and hope to die; I’ll never, ever tranquilize you again. But, if I hadn’t you’d be dead now. The stucco warriors were cursed.”
He cocked a disbelieving brow and held out his hand for my tranq ring. “Cursed?”
Granny Annabel materialized next to me. “She speaks the truth.”
Cupping my chin gently with his left hand, Derek admitted, “Your cousin and I were out of line. It won’t happen again.”
My jaw dropped. He was actually apologizing.
He dropped a kiss on my mouth. “We’re good now?”
I nodded. “Do you think you could get me some body armor? I’m getting shot at an awful lot.”
“I ordered you some right after the bikers tried to kill you.”
“Aw, you’re so sweet.”
Fabian shot me a disbelieving look. “Sweet?
Most women want diamonds.”
“I’m not most women.”
“You’re definitely one of a kind.” Eyes full of deadly resolve, Derek added, “From now on Angel, where I go, you go. You don’t leave my side for any reason and I still want that fucking ring.”
“Fine.” That’s when I noticed my hands were covered in stinky, alley goop. “Omigod! Is that poo?”
Ed pointed his flashlight at them. “No ma’am it’s mud.” He handed me his handkerchief.
“Thanks, Ed.” I gratefully wiped the crud off my hands.
Another volley of gunfire rang out.
“Only you could turn Las Vegas into a war zone,” Fabian grumbled.
“It’s not my fault.”
Ed snorted. “Wherever you go ma’am, trouble always follows.”
“You have no idea,” Fabian groused.
A bullet whizzed past our heads.
“Let’s get trouble out of here.” Planting a firm hand on my back, Derek hurried me down the alley.
Chapter Fifteen
The stucco warrior led us to Kanab, Utah. Yep, the place where in Freddy Crystal, an Indiana Jones type, had convinced the town folk that his four centuries old map would lead them to Montezuma’s lost treasure. Those poor farmers had dug for two long years and never found any trace of the gold. Hopefully, we’d have better luck.
Kanab is a pleasant, mid-size town geared to tourists and treasure hunters. Every business has treasure maps for sale and a directory of guides willing to take you deep into Johnson Canyon where the gold is supposedly hidden.
I wanted to explore some of the intriguing antique stores listed on the city’s website but Mister Bossy was in a hurry and would only stop for lunch and some gas.
Did my guys blend in with the other treasure hunters? Hell no. Even with their battered faces, Fabian and Derek wer
e babe magnets. I mean, my God, who would have thought there would be so many women filling up their cars at the same time, at the same gas station? It looked like Grand Central station.
Not that I had anything to be jealous about.
Derek seemed more annoyed than interested and
once he gave them his scary face they all flocked over to Fabian.
My cousin promptly reverted to his role of the prissy, prima donna model. The fawning women were all dying to know what had happened to his poor face.
“It’s my chivalrous nature,” Fabian exclaimed, flicking back his long black hair.
Please God, don’t let him start stripping. Cuz if he does, Derek will shoot him.
Flexing his massive chest muscles, my cousin continued, “I’m a lover not a fighter but I could not allow that foul villain to take a lady’s purse.”
I fought back a giggle as he did a reenactment of his battle with the determined thief.
Derek watched Fabian ducking and dodging a phantom fist in utter disgust and muttered, “I should have broken both his legs.”
While Mister Bossy was so nicely distracted, I snuck into the quaint gift store attached to the gas station and did a little browsing. They had a nice selection of crystals and some cool t-shirts.
The bell on the shop door dinged and Derek stomped in. “Time to go.”
What? Did he really think he could get away with his caveman tactics? I assumed my ‘I’m dumb as a rock persona,’ gave him a vacant smile and walked over to the cash register with my goodies.
“And you’re just in time to pay for these, snookums.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I am, am I?”
“Yep, it’s what husbands do, snookums,” I explained as if I was talking to a rather dim two year-old child.
Derek leaned down and growled in my ear, “You call me snookums one more time and I’ll…”
“Kiss me senseless,” I finished with a grin.
“That’ll be one hundred and twenty-eight dollars,” the clerk said, ogling my husband’s fine body.
Slanting me a black look, Derek pulled out his wallet and paid the smitten clerk.
“I have a hankering for some expensive French perfume, too,” I added a bit too gleefully and grabbed the bag.
“I only agreed to buy you chocolate,” Derek answered, clamping a firm hand around the back of my neck, he ushered me out the door.
I waved at Fabian as he slid gracefully into Ed’s hummer. “True, so pay up.”
Opening the Hummer door, Mister Bossy tossed me inside and plunked a plastic bag in my lap.
“Lunch and chocolate.”
“Lunch?” I opened the bag. Inside were three pre-packaged ham sandwiches, a bag of chips, two cans of Coke and two chocolate bars. “Oh, yum, my favorite, two day old sandwiches with mustard and wilted lettuce.”
Derek climbed in and started the engine. “I want to get to the camp site before dark.”
“I don’t do camping.”
“You do now.”
Yippee-ki-yay! The sooner we found the gold, the sooner I could get back to civilization. Pulling out the stucco warrior, I opened my psychic eye and concentrated.
Images tumbled across my mind. A metal park service sign with Cave Lakes Canyon etched on it.
Two hundred foot red sandstone walls encircled three small lakes. I’ll be damned. The sneaky bastards hadn’t hidden the gold in the mountains. I focused on the lakes.
There, eighty feet below the surface was a tunnel. A carved turquoise and gold statue sat in a watery tomb. It was surrounded by a shit load of skeletons.
Grief, rage, hatred and a fierce desire for vengeance slammed into me. Voices shrieked insanely in my head and suddenly I couldn’t breathe.
Granny Annabel shouted in my head, “You must break the link.”
My breath came in choking gasps as I fought the mental invasion.
The Hummer skidded to an abrupt stop and Derek shook me violently. “Snap out of it Angel.”
The passenger door flew open and I heard Fabian demand, “What is wrong?”
“Ghosts,” I cried as thousands of angry Aztec spirits pressed down on me, smothering me. I thrashed about wildly trying to break free.
“Fight them, bella,” Fabian commanded urgently, his hands biting painfully into my legs.
Someone cracked me across the face and the screaming ghosts vanished. I sagged against a hard body and sucked in a greedy lungful of air.
“Omigod. Omigod.”
Derek wrapped his arms around me tightly and stroked my back. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
Trembling uncontrollably, I clung to him.
“There’s too many. Too many.”
My husband placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. “Too many what?”
“Ghosts. Really pissed off ghosts,” I gasped.
“The lakes are guarded by eight thousand angry Aztec spirits,” Granny added, her disembodied head protruded from the dash.
Ed echoed in disbelief as he peered around Derek. “Eight thousand? How do you get rid of them?”
“We exorcism them,” Granny answered.
My voice was a raspy croak. “Is it even possible?”
“It can be done. I must talk with Aldo.” She vanished.
“I never, ever want to do that again,” I said with a shudder.
Fabian growled, “You take too many risks.”
“How was I supposed to know there were eight thousand pissed off ghosts guarding the place?”
“You couldn’t. That’s why you cast a circle before you attempt any psychic scouting trips. You
are lucky Asmoday didn’t strike while you were that vulnerable,” my cousin snapped.
Derek grabbed the small stucco warrior and dropped it in his shirt pocket. “No more woo-woo shit until you have the proper safeguards set up.”
I turned and glared at Fabian. “Snitch.”
Fabian threw an exasperated look at Derek.
“Now you see why I came along.”
“Unfortunately.” Popping the top on a can of Coke, Derek handed it to me. “Drink up; it’ll help with the shock.”
I took it gratefully. My hand shaking visibly, I raised the can to my mouth and most of the Coke dribbled down the front of my shirt.
“You drive,” my husband instructed Fabian. He slid across the seat, pulled me into his lap and took the Coke can.
Fabian got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “She needs a keeper.”
“Do not.”
Derek held the Coke to my mouth. “She’s got one.”
Alpha males were a pain-in-the-butt but sometimes it was nice to be taken care of. I obediently drank the Coke and snuggled against his chest. I could get used to this.
Derek rummaged around in my shopping bag and pulled out a black t-shirt. “XXL? You’re not that big.”
“Gee golly mister, such flattery is going to make me blush.”
“I like your curves,” my husband added quickly, not being a complete fool.
Fabian chortled, “Good save.”
Butt out, I mouthed to my cousin.
With an evil grin, he mouthed back, not a chance.
I gave him the one finger salute and turned my attention back to my ball and chain. “I got the shirt for you.”
“Me? Why?” The suspicious look on Derek’s face had me frowning. Hadn’t the poor guy ever gotten a gift just for the hell of it?
“Cuz it’ll show off that manly chest of yours.”
Not like the hideous purple and red shirt he wore now. “You’re not by any chance color blind, are you?”
“No.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “You don’t like my shirts?”
“They are a bit colorful.”
“I like them,” my husband stated firmly.
“They’re not white or khaki.”
Fabian laughed. “They also camouflage his weapons.”
I patted his waist. Hmmm. He was armed to the teeth
and after all those years of wearing uniforms, he probably wanted to express his individuality.
Very colorfully.
Derek pulled out another t-shirt which proclaimed, ‘All Men Are Idiots and I Married The King.’ “You’re not wearing this.”
“But it’s funny.”
My husband hurled it out the window.
The t-shirt landed on the head of a big red bull.
It mooed frantically and spun around in circles trying to dislodge it.
“You just wasted ten bucks and traumatized that poor cow.”
“Do I look like I care?”
I met his hard gaze. “Nope, not a bit.”
He yanked out a neon yellow shirt with ‘I Don’t Have A License To Kill, I Have A Learner’s Permit’
stamped on the front. “Are you deliberately trying to piss me off?”
“Who? Me? Heaven forbid. I just figured if you were going to glow in the dark, I should, too.”
Out the window it went.
“You’re wasting our money.”
Irritation flared in Derek’s eyes. “Our money?”
Fabian choked back a laugh.
“I don’t remember signing a pre-nup,” I answered. “So what’s yours is mine.”
Exhaling a long breath, Derek reached into the bag and pulled out a lavender t-shirt covered in flowers. “This you can wear.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“It brings out your eyes.”
“You say the sweetest things,” I said and pulled off my sticky shirt.
Derek cut the tags off with his Bowie knife, pulled the t-shirt over my head and stated firmly, “Behave.”
I noticed the lines of stress etched in his face and ran a soothing finger over them. “Sorry, when I’m freaked out I turn into a motor mouth.”
“I’ve noticed.” My husband’s mouth closed over mine in a long voracious kiss. “Better?”
“Much better.” I laid my head against his shoulder. God, I was so tired.
Derek’s fingers stroked my back soothingly and my eyes drifted shut.
A shuddering bounce woke me. I blinked and looked up at the wind sculpted cliffs rising up around us.
Johnson Canyon was a symphony of color that dazzled the eye. Milk white monoliths stood like sentries next to towering mesas in ever changing shades of red which contrasted sharply with the turquoise sky.
“Are we there yet?”
“Yes ma’am, we are,” Derek replied.
