“So, how far?”
“See the station post?” Binja’s dark head motioned out ahead.
“You mean the big place with three windmills?”
Binja's dark eyes widened. “No, I mean the fence post up...” His gaze shifted sideways. “You see far! It be at least ten more miles away.”
“Yeah, we Americans can do that.” Payne gave him a sly-eyed wink.
Binja looked nervous again. “Um—so what you gonna do?”
Payne grasped the roll bar as a bouncing bump slammed the jostling Jeep and his long body shifted in the seat. “Look around, question.”
“You question the Rip Snorter Babe?” Binja swallowed with an anxious gulp.
“Oh yeah, I sure as hell wouldn’t want to miss one of those.” Payne smiled wickedly as he leaned back and lowered his hat over his eyes again.
After another hour of Jeep jostling and a few labored unsuccessful winks of shuteye, Payne abruptly sat upright.
The ranch sat among miles of nothing, the well-tended fences penning in colossal horse herds and endless heads of cattle. A three-story mansion possessing at least twenty bedrooms sat in the middle of an enormous stretch of outback land with a dozen outer buildings spread out around it. It took them twenty minutes just to come up the long paved driveway.
A grey headed Aborigine stood on the porch and grinned at Binja. “They say you bring the coppers.”
“Bumpy!” Binja hopped from the Jeep and grabbed the older man in a bear hug.
“There now, Binja, calm it,” the old man admonished him with humor in his voice. His gaze swung to Payne, his old eyes rounding. “He’s a...” The old man gulped.
“Yes, he American!” Binja held a warning in his tone.
The old servant blinked rapidly. “I don't think she’ll like this.”
Binja let out a tense laugh and nervously patted the other man on the back.
Payne climbed the stairs moving to the top step.
Bumpy raised his stunned eyes at the cop's height. “Oh,” he tittered. “You turn and you very big, powerful, right?”
Payne halted his steps. “What?”
Binja laughed a little too loudly and moved Bumpy out of Payne’s line of vision.
“Where is the Mistress of the house?” Payne wasn’t pleased by the previously unknown phenomena where Aborigines possessed the skill to know a beast.
Bumpy stared at the deadly expression which appeared on the large man’s face and he swallowed heavily. “In the parlor.”
“This way.” Binja swept his arm up and over the steps.
The enormous foyer gleamed spotless with a smooth polished floor and very few adornments on the walls, just a few various animal heads with piercing horns. The afternoon sunlight glinted off a huge chandelier from a wide skylight above the entry.
Bumpy led the way and they came to the open double doors.
A woman stood at the window with her back to them. Long blonde hair fell down past her tight rounding derriere, the long shining corn silk like strands gracefully sweeping the back of the red silk dress she wore.
“Miss Stephen?” Bumpy called to her from the doorway.
“Yes?” she answered without turning around.
Binja noticeably shivered.
Payne noted the guide’s reaction. If I were human? I would shiver too, at the beastly sense in this room.
Bumpy bowed toward her. “You have a visit—”
“Yes, the police, right?” She turned around, her deep blue eyes riveted to Payne’s face.
Payne felt an instant and weird taste in his mouth as he stared back. Her features were striking as she stared at him with a steady unflinching gaze. And that luscious body? Mmm. He stood stock-still for a full moment. A stunning ripper, all right.
Mrs. Stephen smiled at him and her brow rose at his appreciative expression.
And yes, the stunning smile would outfit the entire delicious package. Payne smiled back.
Binja gazed back and forth at them, his eyes rounding.
She stepped forward. “Do come in, officer.”
“You can call me Victor.” He gave a polite nod and stepped closer.
“Okay, and you may call me Sabrina.”
He blinked at the name, but said nothing.
Sabrina nodded her head at Bumpy. “Could you get us some refreshments?”
He nodded and grasped Binja’s arm, tugging him out.
“You’re here for the murder,” she sighed.
“Well, I’m not here for the abundant bushy fresh air.”
“Oh, and you’re funny too.” She laughed and went over to the lavish leather sofa.
He followed and sat a few spaces from her. “I need to know a few things.”
“You get right to it, don’t you?”
“Better to interrogate you now than later.” He grinned.
Sabrina looked tense and she stood from the couch. “I was gone when it happened. I was in the city.”
Payne watched her closely, especially the way the sun shone through her red flimsy dress. A spark of something nudged at him, but he couldn’t seem to identify it. She’s a chimera, which is quite a shock, as they were rare in the word, but there’s something else familiar about her. He stood. “Were there any strangers around at that time?”
“No.”
He nodded and gazed around. “Is there any reason that someone would want him dead?”
“No! He was wonderful, always kind to the indigenous and his fellow ranchers.” Her eyes filled with tears. “He had no enemies!”
The door opened and Bumpy rolled the tray in.
“Let’s have some tea and then we can continue.” She let out a sad sigh and turned toward the servant.
Bumpy set up their tea, crackers and cheese without a glance up at them. Bowing his old frame toward the mistress, he turned and went back out.
She poured a cup for him. “Sugar?”
“No, hot and black.”
“That’s for coffee, Victor.” She giggled.
A flutter tickled the skin along his neck at the sound of his name on her lips.
She swung the cup around and he took it.
Sabrina stirred the tea in her cup. “He was out at the back five hundred, when...” Her voice fell away. “Checking on cattle.” She raised the cup to her full lips and gazed into his eyes.
An odd pull tugged at his chest while gazing into her intense blue eyes.
“Victor?”
Payne shook his head and downed the scalding hot tea without even feeling the burn. “Well, you do have a room for me here, right? I never saw a Holiday Inn on that,” he paused and rolled his eyes. “Road?”
“Oh, I love a sense of humor!” She laughed. “Yes, the Queensbury Chief already phoned me.”
He raised a brow at her.
She nodded. “No one else has arrived yet, like reporters and such, but we are out a ways.”
“A ways...?” he scoffed sarcastically. “Yeah, just a little. Well, I do have to check on something else.” He held out his hand. “I‘ll be back later tonight.”
“Yes, you’re very welcome to stay.” Sabrina took his hand.
Payne waited for a spark or jolt from this female’s touch, as all else about her riveted his senses, but he felt cold instead. He tilted his head at her. “Do you have a...?”
“Have?” Her curious gaze met his.
“Never mind.” He let go of her hand and turned away, shutting the door behind him.
~* * * *~
Wirra’ Settlement, Australian Territory
Binja didn’t look happy as he drove over the rough road. “The settlement is not a place for a gubbah.” He peered over at Payne. “Especially an American one.”
“I have to see about the other murder too, Benjy. And did you just call me a goober?” he teased with dry humor.
“No, a gubbah. It means white Government people.” The guide glared at him. “And, I don’t like this.”
“I’ll keep your protes
t under advisement.” Payne smirked.
Binja drove along the bumpy track with a frown on his face.
“What do you know about Mrs. Stephen?”
Binja gulped. “She be a gammon and that ain't no humbug!”
“In English please, Benjy?”
The guide looked afraid. “She not what she appear, you know what I mean?”
“Yes, I know what you mean.” An ironic smile prodded at Payne’s mouth.
“Mister Stephen, he a nice gubbah, he liked us and not a word akin to anyone.” Binja’s expression grew even angrier. “She will get everything, you know?”
“So, you got this whole case solved eh, Sherlock?” Payne raised a mocking brow at him. “I guess I should’ve stayed home,” he teased.
Binja's head jerked up, his face ashen.
Payne threw his head back with a laugh.
Binja pouted. “Well, you ask 'bout her.” He turned the Jeep onto a little side road. “Now, Payne...?”
He glanced over. “Yeah?”
“These people not like me and Bumpy.”
“Oh, really? So, they’re really hateful, eh?” He winked at the overly serious driver.
Binja shook his head. “You strange funny for a...” His words halted.
“An American?” Payne grinned at him.
“Yeah.” Binja looked nervous again.
“There are different kinds of,” Payne paused for emphasis, “Americans, you know?”
Binja shifted his gaze away and halted the Jeep. “Okay, we here.”
Payne looked around at the empty road. “Now Benjy, there isn’t anything—”
A gunshot rang out from behind a stand of eucalyptus trees.
“They got no guns here!” Binja’s face went ashen.
Payne un-holstered his weapon and hopped from the Jeep. “Well, that wasn’t a fucking firecracker, Benjy boy!” He carefully moved to the trees and peeked in through the foliage. A cluster of adobe-style houses lined the area and he spotted movement in a darkened doorway.
He moved swiftly across the dirt byway and stood next to the doorway, holding his gun high he moved carefully forward. A weird whirring sound pinged in his ears while his eyes adjusted to the dark. He saw the steel glint of a weapon gleam in the low light from the far wall.
“Freeze!” A voice shouted.
“No, you freeze!” he shouted back.
A long silence permeated the room and his beast sight adjusted to the dim interior just as the perp turned and ran down the hallway.
He cautiously followed.
“Drop it,” the command came from behind him.
“No, you fucking drop it!” At his retort, he could hear a foot stomp.
“I’m with the Federal Marshall’s office and you are under—”
Payne spun around and relieved the perp of his weapon, immediately disarming him.
Payne lifted the squirming culprit high. He didn’t want to use too much strength, as he needed to question him. “Hold still, you fucking crazy—” The lights came on and he glanced over to see Binja and a few other men, their wide eyes staring back at them.
He peered down to see whom he held and at the same time, he caught a wonderful scent. It overwhelmed his senses for a stunned moment. An elbow thrust into his gut as a foot stomped onto his boot—the glancing blows having no effect, of course.
“Let me go, you big, fucking gorilla!” she screeched at him with a pained whine in her voice. “What do you have under your jacket anyway, fucking concrete?”
A woman? Payne smiled and lowered his face to her hair. Yes, all woman, and very fresh with a scent of...
“I said let me go!” The tip of sharp metal pricked at his neck.
“Are you gonna carve me up with a little nail file?” he taunted to her ear.
Her body trembled and she pushed the knife closer. “If I have to.”
Blood dripped along his neck and he let her go.
She spun around, her rounding blue eyes glaring at him. “Why you Mother...” Her voice fell away as her face went white.
“We’ll leave our mothers out of this, if you don’t mind,” he quipped. “So, who the hell are you?”
“You–You’re–?” she stuttered as she jumped back.
Payne recognized her. “You?”
“Uh, oh!” Binja gasped loudly from the doorway. “It’s another ripper gammon!”
The small crowd of Aborigines gathered in the sparsely furnished room collectively gaped at her face.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“She be the evil woman’s sister!” Binja shouted.
Valentine swung her befuddled gaze around. “What?”
“Your sister, she...” The terrified guide gulped.
“I don’t have a sister.”
“The resemblance is uncanny.” Payne raised his brows.
Binja nodded.” It be magic from the Dreamers.”
Payne stepped closer and took up a dark silky curl, pinching it with his fingers. “No, Benjy, she looks like a dream, but she is definitely real. Only her hair is—”
She yanked her hair from his grasp, her eyes glittering at him. “You’re saying my twin is here?”
“Just who the hell are you?” Payne skipped over her question.
She sighed and flipped her badge out. “Special unit attached to the American Consulate.”
“So?” He glanced down at the badge with disinterest. “Not impressive. I own one of those myself.”
“I’m here to—”
“Investigate the Stephens murder?”
Her eyes narrowed at him. “You haven’t told me who you are.” Bending down, she tucked the little knife back into her boot.
Payne stilled while he enjoyed the nice little bend of her waist as her tight little behind peeked up at him. “Mmm,” he growled.
She stood up. “What was that?”
He kept his expression blank and whipped his badge out.
With interest, she peered down at the glinting Silver Star. “You work for the Australians?”
“Now you need to tell me who the fuck you were shooting at.”
“There was a huge snake and—”
“No!” Binja stepped closer. “You not kill snakes here, they holy!”
Appearing unconcerned, she looked around as though she was searching for something. “I think I missed him, anyway.”
Payne held her gun out with a Cheshire-like grin on his face.
With an irritated huff, she snatched it from his grasp.
He chuckled.
“Where’s this double?” She stepped over to Binja, her icy blue eyes narrowing at him.
The guide stepped back with a fearful gulp.
“Hey, you don’t have the right to bully my driver!” Payne exclaimed.
“I have diplomatic license to question anyone I choose.”
“This is my case.” His dark glare glinted back at her.
“I outrank you.” She raised her chin.
Payne threw his head back, and laughed.
The female Marshall gawked at his laughter.
“You're pulling rank in the fucking outback?” He wiped a hilarious tear away.
“I’m leaving.” She turned away.
He grabbed her arm. “Not until we know.”
Her eyes darkened and she gazed down at his hand on her arm. “Let me go, or...”
“Or?” His cold smile showed.
Her flinty gaze slowly rose to his. “You’ll be minus a set.”
“So, we’ll get to dance again, eh?” he taunted. “I’m kinda glad, because I really enjoyed that.”
She yanked her arm away and looked around. “Gimmie?”
At the provocative word, Payne tilted his head.
“Yes, Miss Valentine?” A tall native man stepped forward.
“We go now.” Valentine swept past him.
Payne’s eyes narrowed at her back. “Valentine?”
At his voice, she halted and swallowed heavily.
“Not the Ma
libu Queen of cops, Valentine?”
She visibly trembled, but didn’t turn to look at him.
Payne moved closer to stand behind her. “The one who busted Malibu Slasher Barbie?” He leaned in close to her cheek.
Valentine flinched and sidestepped the hot breath grazing her cheek.
“We got ourselves a real live celebrity here, Benjy!” he snickered. “The national Babe Cop who single handedly collared the bloodiest killer on the West Coast!”
“Yeah, and you Mister super cop of the Hurt Legend?” She tilted her head at him. “Apparently, has let this killer get away.”
“What killer?”
“This twin? The one who looks like me?”
“Yeah, what about her?”
“Is Miss Malibu, herself!”
“Well now, miss Federal Marshall, with this striking resemblance you obviously share with her, how do we know you’re not this Barbie Slasher?” He crossed his arms over his broad chest.
She gasped at the accusation. “If you had any brains, she would be on her way to booking right now!”
At her words, Payne experienced a flicker something. Anger? He grinned. No that isn’t quite it. His delighted gaze dropped down from her face to take in the dark suit. He took his time and roamed his explicit visual inspection up along her shapely legs, to her curvy hips molded into those slacks. Hips, which were just the right size for sensual motion. His lurid journey traveled higher to her slim waist. He’d already checked out her lovely, firm ass and his eyes rose to her full breasts. Mmm, can’t tell with the jacket and all, but the rest of her was perfect.
She stomped her foot. “What the hell are you doing?”
His leisurely, vicarious scrutiny ended at her flaming face where he met with her glaring, intense blue eyes. Unqualified striking feminine perfection. Too perfect in fact—she fit the ideal image of my sexual fantasy woman. His previous enjoyment suddenly fell like a blistering cannon ball inside him. “Just comparing certain traits.” He assumed an innocent air.
“I am so out of here!” She threw her hands up with loathing and flipped around.
Payne instantly appeared in front of her.
Startled, Valentine blinked rapidly at him.
“We’re in this together and we will stay that way.” He glowered at her.
She stepped back. “Oh, no way!”
“Oh, yes way!” He nodded.
“Fine.” Valentine crossed her arms over her chest. “So, what do you have?”
Voracious Vixens, 13 Novels of Sexy Horror and Hot Paranormal Romance Page 205
