Lucky Devil

by Patricia Rosemoor

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Bring me back over that canyon!” Lucky yelled at the chopper pilot.

  “Yes, sir!”

  Certain he’d seen a vehicle half-hidden by trees at the top of the plateau, Lucky leaned out of the opening slightly. As the chopper circled, he got a better view of the area through a set of binoculars. Sure enough, there it was—JoJo’s red Cherokee. And only one person could have driven the Jeep out here. A second later, Lucky spotted the bastard and drew back slightly so he couldn’t be seen himself.

  Flat against the cliff’s top, Rocky Franzone lay waiting to ambush JoJo. For a second, he glanced up at the chopper, then, obviously unsuspecting, went back to the sight of his high-powered rifle.

  Not about to lose the woman he loved, Lucky was tempted to shoot Rocky where he lay. But if he did, he’d probably kill the criminal. They might never learn why he was after JoJo—or if others were involved.

  Lucky couldn’t take that chance.

  As they flew along the gorge, Lucky could see straight to the bottom. JoJo was already there with Paula, both women on foot near the creek, hanging on to their horses, who danced and threw up their heads from the noise. With no time to lose, he issued new orders to the pilot.

  Again, the chopper made a wide arc and swept toward the ambush site, descending as swiftly as was safe. Lodged in the opening behind the pilot, Lucky grabbed his lariat, fastened one end to the aircraft and hung on tight.

  He had a clear view of Rocky, who was shouldering the rifle and taking aim. The noise of the blades broke the concentration of the would-be assassin. Rocky glanced up again. Face reflecting his alarm at the aircraft’s third approach, he rolled to his back, taking the rifle with him.

  Only yards away, Lucky gave the command, “Now!” and leaned out of the opening as the man on the ground bounced to his feet.

  The chopper hovered in one spot, and the lariat whirled in a widening loop before Rocky could hike the rifle to his shoulder and take aim. Lucky released and the loop went sailing over the man’s head and shoulders. As Lucky quickly tightened the leather around his arms and chest, Rocky was still fumbling with the rifle ineffectually.

  “Lift!” Lucky yelled, and a shot went wild.

  The chopper rose several yards nearly straight up, Rocky coming with it. The rope tightened around his chest, below his shoulders, but he panicked and let go of the weapon to find a handhold anyway. The rifle bounced against his flailing legs…then dropped to the ground with a thunk.

  THE COMBINED SOUND of helicopter and rifle shot sent a quiver along Spitfire’s flesh. The high-strung horse threw up her head and screamed in fear…and JoJo let go of the reins, urging the mare toward Paula as a diversion. Spitfire nearly ran her down, creating an effective block between the two women for a few moments.

  The chance JoJo needed.

  She didn’t think, but acted on sheer instinct, running for all she was worth.

  With Paula’s screech of frustration ringing in her ears—and the splash of the gun going into the drink, to boot—JoJo searched wildly for a place to hide. It wouldn’t take the other woman long to retrieve the weapon and be after her. JoJo didn’t fool herself that the gun wouldn’t fire just because it was a little wet.

  Above, the helicopter hovered. Not slowing, JoJo gave it a quick glance and swore she saw a body dancing from the end of a rope.

  Ahead, she couldn’t miss the narrowing walls of the canyon. The red cliffs loomed barely more than a few yards apart.

  Below, the stream was choked with rocks and boulders at its edges and formed a long, shadowed pool that looked too deep to cross, while the path simply disappeared.

  Behind, she heard Paula coming after her.

  JoJo’s heart flailed itself against her ribs as she tried to make up her mind.

  What to do?

  LUCKY BARELY HEARD Rocky’s “Let me down, you son of a bitch, before you hang me!” over the earsplitting noise of the whirling blades above.

  “I’d like to let you down, all right,” Lucky muttered, “straight into a stand of cactus.”

  No chance the man would actually hang—unless he managed to work the rope above his shoulders. He damn well might do it, too! Lucky feared.

  The pilot yelled, “What now?”

  “Set us down!” Lucky returned. “And be careful you don’t squash the bastard like the cockroach he is!”

  They slowly descended, the pilot maneuvering the craft away from the spot where Rocky landed. The man’s legs collapsed under him, and he fell to his knees. But he was a tough bastard, up on his feet and working at the rope even as Lucky hurled himself out of the chopper.

  Rocky went down again, this time with Lucky on top of him. The men rolled away from the aircraft toward the edge of the cliff, the loose rope tangling around them. Traded punches proved ineffectual at this proximity. Knuckles grazed flesh but did little damage.

  Then Rocky managed to wrap both hands around Lucky’s throat, the maneuver taking him by surprise.

  “You think you’re special ’cause of your old man?” Rocky taunted. “You can die as easily as anyone else. And I’m the man to do it.”

  Unable to answer, Lucky struggled for air and saw black spots dancing in front of his eyes before he was able to break the other man’s stranglehold on him. Gasping for breath and thinking to reconnoiter, he rolled away from Rocky and onto his knees, where he sucked in a lungful of air.

  There was enough time for Rocky to get to his feet and kick out viciously.

  Nearly blindsided, Lucky threw himself to his side, grabbing onto Rocky’s boot before he could retract his leg. He twisted and jerked, gratified when the villain went down hard. Before Rocky could recover, Lucky was on him, grabbing the shirt at his neck and whipping his head so that it bounced off the hard earth a few times.

  “That should knock some sense into you!” he muttered.

  Rocky had nothing smart to say in return. Still, he wasn’t finished. His fists latched on to Lucky’s shirt, and his lower body bucked with inhuman strength.

  An astonished Lucky went flying, feet over head, his body hurtling toward the edge of the cliff.

  DISCRETION BEING the better part of valor, JoJo chose to forge ahead and let Paula come after her. Given the dangerous texture of the landscape, anything could happen. Should Paula drop the gun in the water a second time, she wouldn’t so easily retrieve the weapon.

  A worthy goal.

  A last peek up at the helicopter shocked JoJo. High on the cliff overhead, a fight for dominance between two men ended with one of them nearly doing a dive feetfirst to the canyon floor. He caught himself on the flora wedged in the rock near the edge. His body slammed against the side of the cliff.

  JoJo’s eyes widened suddenly as she recognized him. “Lucky!” she screamed in terror.

  What in the world was going on up there?

  The man standing over him was Rocky Franzone.

  A glance at Paula, whose attention, too, was riveted above for the moment, reminded JoJo to worry about herself. She couldn’t help Lucky. She could only pray he wouldn’t fall, and if he did, that he would survive.

  Her back against the rocky wall, arms to her sides for balance, JoJo inched tentatively along the narrow ledge. Her heart pounded and her chest squeezed tight. If anything terrible happened to him because of her…

  Lucky and Rocky and a helicopter!

  Lucky must have figured out that Rocky was involved in her “accidents.” Rocky must have been the help Paula talked about. He’d helped Paula spring Lester. He’d helped keep an eye on her. He’d provided an alibi for Paula the day Spitfire had conveniently disappeared. No doubt, he’d told Paula that she was going back to Rimrock to get her wallet, and Paula had ridden after her, hell-bent for leather, just waiting for her opportunity.

  From the looks of it, Rocky must have been waiting for an opportunity to help Paula finish her off now.

  Undoubtedly having guessed at the other man’s duplicity, Lucky ha
d come after him. But why alone, and where had he found a helicopter?

  JoJo’s heart ached. Lucky did care, whether or not he was willing to believe it himself, and now his life was in danger because of her. As she moved, she kept listening for some clue as to what was happening above the mechanical whir of the aircraft.

  Then she heard a man’s scream that made her heart stop.

  And Paula’s threat.

  “You won’t get away!” the other woman shouted. “I can’t afford to let you show up back at the ranch. You won’t leave this place alive.”

  But JoJo also heard the touch of panic threaded through the other woman’s warning. Paula was afraid. JoJo didn’t waste herself on a response. She needed every ounce of energy to get herself out of this mess, and the gorge was becoming even more harrowing. The cliffs on either side seemed to lean in toward each other and nearly touched at their tops. Below, the water grew deeper with each few steps she took. The bottom soon disappeared altogether.

  Maybe Lucky had fallen into the creek. Please God, let him have landed in water. Though shallower than it was here, the water might have been enough to save his life. JoJo threw a glance over her shoulder the way she’d come but couldn’t spot a man’s body in or out of the water. The horses were spooked and dancing around each other.

  Closer, her slight body stiff, Paula stood staring at the narrowing gorge as if reluctant to chance it. Her sound of frustration echoed along the stone walls, giving JoJo some measure of comfort. The less Paula liked the situation, the more vulnerable she’d be.

  Observing the pool below her, JoJo realized this was trout heaven. Several foot-long fish swam along with her, as if they were curious about the strange creature above.

  An odd thing to envision, considering the danger she was in.

  And what might have happened to Lucky.

  She bit the inside of her lip to distract herself. She couldn’t think about it now. She couldn’t cry. She didn’t want to die.

  The path narrowed and climbed as the gorge widened once more. The opposite cliffs were tiered with pine and oak that grew wherever the ground was level enough to provide a foothold for their roots. A several-yard drop below, the pool widened. And though the water was clear, JoJo could no longer see the bottom. In its midst, water beating against it, stood a lonely gravel bar.

  A moment later, she tracked the narrow path around a bend and nearly stumbled into what could be a solution to her problem. A way to ambush Paula.

  Backing into the shallow cave, JoJo looked around for some kind of weapon.

  HEARING JOJO SCREAMING his name was almost the end of him. Lucky didn’t give in to the temptation to look for her. Thank God. Rocky was upon him quickly enough. Fortunately, Lucky found a toehold in the rock face and anchored himself just in time.

  “Now it’s you who’s whistling in the wind,” the villain said with an evil grin. “Have a nice trip down!”

  Rocky’s foot came rushing at Lucky so fast, he barely had time to react—to let go with one hand. Once more, he grabbed on to the other man’s boot, twisted and jerked.

  Eyes wide in disbelief, Rocky took his turn at flying. The small of his back met the cliff edge, and the man screamed in agony, the sound bouncing off the sandstone walls. His arms flailed, hands shooting out, fingers scrabbling along the sparse growth.

  A futile effort.

  Rocky shot downward to meet his maker.

  Lucky sagged against the prickly growth and waited for his heart to still before making a move. He suddenly felt weak, his limbs like rubber. He wasn’t certain he could pull himself up to safety.

  “Mr. Donatelli!” came a shout.

  Lucky hadn’t realized the chopper had landed. The pilot was kneeling near him and holding out a hand. Thankful, Lucky grabbed it and blessed the adrenaline he still had in reserve. A moment later, his feet were planted on blessed terra firma.

  He chanced a glance down and saw an unconscious Rocky, sprawled on his back at the edge of the creek, both legs twisted at crazy angles.

  “What now?” asked the pilot.

  “Call in for help.” Trying to breathe normally, Lucky was already going for the lariat that snaked across the sunbaked earth. “Tell the authorities that it’s an emergency. We may have a dead man down there. Or if he’s really luckless, he may still be alive.”

  “What about you, Mr. Donatelli? Don’t you want to go back to the ranch?”

  “Not yet.” Not until he had the woman he loved safely in his arms, after which, he wouldn’t ever let her go. Refusing to think JoJo might not live to hear his impassioned declaration of love, he quickly looped the lariat and threw it over his shoulder. “We have a lady to rescue. You can fly while you radio in, can’t you?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Together, they ran for the chopper.

  HER ENTIRE BODY trembling, secluded in the shadows of what had turned out to be nothing more than a shallow cave, JoJo lay in wait for her pursuer. She’d found a few good-sized rocks and had stacked them before her. Her arsenal.

  A nearby scrape alerted JoJo. Her hand fisted a stone. She heard Paula muttering to herself.

  “C’mon. You have to do it. If you fail, you’ll have a new address, all right, but not one that you’ll like.”

  The other woman might have some misgivings, but JoJo suspected Paula’s biggest regret was that she would have to do her dirty work herself and face-to-face. Previously, she’d tried to use circumstances—or Rocky Franzone—to her advantage. Now she had no choice but to look straight at her victim and pull the trigger. JoJo wondered if Paula really had the stomach for murder.

  Not that she was holding her breath waiting for a last-minute change of heart, JoJo told herself.

  The moment Paula stepped into view, JoJo acted, throwing the stone in her hand as hard as she could, her target the middle of the other woman’s back.

  With a screech, Paula stumbled and twirled, the gun waving frantically. “Where the hell are you, JoJo?”

  In answer, JoJo let loose another missile, this one aimed at Paula’s gun hand. She merely grazed the would-be killer, but the weapon fired, the bullet whining off the stone walls. Before Paula’s eyes could adjust to the darkened interior of her shallow hiding place, JoJo attacked again, this rock bigger than the others.

  Struck in the side, Paula took a step back…finding nothing but air below her free foot. Her eyes bugged out, and her mouth made a big O as she lost her balance. The gun discharged a second time, and a hysterical Paula tumbled backward into nothingness.

  JoJo didn’t wait for the splash. She crawled forward to see the other woman land in the creek. Relieved, she sat back on her haunches, wondering what came next. If she retraced her steps, no doubt Rocky would be waiting for her. But she had no clue as to what lay ahead. Besides which, she might never be able to climb up the rock face and get out of the gorge.

  Mind whirling, she didn’t immediately register the sounds from below. Paula. She focused on the woman thrashing and flailing at the water.

  With a gurgle, Paula went under, then came up a few yards downstream, sputtering and coughing. She beat at the water as if her frenzied activity could overcome her obvious inability to swim. But under she went.

  And JoJo knew a nonswimmer couldn’t survive the creek, even with its gentle current. How ironic if Paula were to drown after leaving JoJo to do likewise in the flash flood.

  Paula popped up farther downstream, her actions weaker, her frightened wail zinging down JoJo’s spine.

  JoJo got to her feet and, with a silent curse at her own stupidity, dived into the water. The pool was deep, its bottom dark with rotting leaves that had a slimy feel when she pushed herself up and toward Paula. A high school course in lifesaving would stand her in good stead, though why she was so concerned about the life of a woman who would see her dead, JoJo couldn’t fathom.

  And the drone of a helicopter in the distance warned her of oncoming danger.

  Knowing that a panicked person coul
d drown her rescuer, JoJo made certain she approached Paula directly from behind. She slipped an arm around the other woman’s throat and lifted her face out of the water so she could breathe.

  “Don’t fight me!” JoJo ordered over the roar of the helicopter that was now in sight. “Relax and we’ll both come out of this alive.”

  If Rocky didn’t finish the job, she thought wryly.

  There was no struggle left in Paula. She lay limp in the cradle of JoJo’s arm. JoJo half allowed the current to take them downstream, half swam to maneuver them toward the approaching gravel bar. She wasn’t certain if Paula was even conscious. When she could see the bottom rise into a slope, she lowered her feet and walked the rest of the way in. Once on the bank, she heaved Paula on her side and wondered if she would have to revive her.

  Paula’s eyes fluttered open, and she coughed out water.

  And the helicopter hovered overhead.

  No escape was in sight unless she tried to outswim the aircraft. Exhaustion precluded such activity—JoJo sank to the gravel bar to await her fate.

  A flexible ladder shot out of the opening behind the pilot, and a man’s legs followed, the booted feet finding purchase. JoJo squinted to watch, a certainty filling her. She’d recognize the way those jeans hugged that butt anywhere!

  “Lucky!” she shouted. She shot to her feet as he shot down the ladder. A second later, she was enveloped in his arms, crying. “You’re alive! You’re alive.”

  “And so are you, thank God.” Her face cradled in his hands, Lucky kissed her forehead, her nose, her chin. “I love you, JoJo Weston,” he said fervently, commandeering her mouth before she could return the words.

  JoJo sagged against Lucky and kissed him with all the adrenaline she had left, hoping against hope that they had a future after all.

  LUCKY’S HIP WAS BURNING with knifelike pain by the time the chopper touched down. He helped a subdued Paula out of the aircraft. Then JoJo.

  A county vehicle was parked in front of the house. Eli, Caroline, Vito, his father and two uniformed deputies rushed from the house. Hanging on to Paula’s arm, Lucky limped toward them and met them halfway. Caroline threw herself against his chest.