“I remember.” She was surprised that the memory made her smile. In the past such thoughts would have brought pain.
“Do you remember? That was the night your father told us about Crazy Horse’s vision.”
“I remember.” Shadoe scuffed the dirt with the toe of her boot. “I was thinking about that only a little while ago.”
“Do you remember what Jimmy said?”
Shadoe looked up at Hank. His eyes were animated, his expression tense. “What?”
“He said that Crazy Horse understood that if the settlers weren’t stopped immediately, it would be the end of the Indians, the death of the wilderness.”
The pleasant ease that had developed between them dis appeared. Shadoe sensed that Hank was using the past, using the memory of her father, for his own purposes. “My father was talking about something in the past, Hank. The Indians did fight, and they lost their land anyway.”
He saw her tense, but he had to go on. This was the moment he’d been waiting for. The chance to explain to her why he was so dedicated to releasing the wolves. If he could tell her exactly right, then she’d understand. Maybe, if they could settle this issue between them. “Jimmy was right, Shadoe. If we don’t save something of the wilderness and simply allow it to be what it is, then we’ll lose everything.”
“The ranchers are a part of this state. We’re not destroying the wilderness. We’re not paving and building and cutting down trees. We do live here and protect the land. Just because we don’t want our livestock killed by a pack of wolves doesn’t mean we don’t care about the wilderness.” The more she talked the angrier she got.
“This is a special place, Shadoe.”
His very sincerity infuriated her. “You think I don’t know that? You think you have some rare spiritual connection to this country?”
Her anger ignited his. “I do have a special connection to this land. A bond you’d never understand. I’m not the one who threw everything away to go off to college, to drive around in a sports car and throw parties for celebrities. I was forced out of my home because you.” He stopped himself. The anger had been quick-hot, and it was gone as fast as it had come. Shadoe was staring at him, her chest rising and falling in short, rapid breaths that he knew would soon erupt into angry words.
“This is all personal with you, isn’t it? You don’t give a damn about the wilderness or the wolves or the ranchers. This is your way to heap revenge on me and everyone else who gets in the way. Tell me, Hank, when did you pick the site to release the wolves? Was it sometime this winter, after you’d learned I was back in Lakota County?” She stood up, her chest hurting, along with her ribs, her backside and mostly her heart. “Was it after you left your pocketknife in my barn?”
“Believe what you’d like.” Hank stood also. He was furious with himself. Why had he even thought he could talk to her? Being up at Stag’s Horn, every evening staring out into the glittering velvet of a Montana night, he’d lost his mind. He’d allowed himself to believe that somehow he could talk to Shadoe, make her see that it wasn’t her pitted against the wilderness. He thought somehow he could reach out and touch her and discover that her heart was still that of the young girl he’d loved. But that was not true.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Even Shadoe was surprised by the searing pain. “You did decide on this location after last October, didn’t you?” She’d never really believed the wolf release was directly aimed at her. She could see in his face, though, that she was right. “And you were in Scrapiron’s stall?”
“Only when I brought him home, Shadoe, but my knife is missing. As far as locating the wolves to hurt you, I find it fascinating that you think you’re that important.” He hurled the angry words at her. “If I were so determined to do something to hurt you, wouldn’t it be much simpler to take a direct approach?”
“What are you doing on Double S land?” It suddenly occurred to Shadoe that Hank had appeared out of the woods. Was it possible that she’d been chasing him?
“I was doing my job.” He tried to control his temper. The one thing he had to keep in mind was the wolves. No matter how angry Shadoe made him, he could not jeopardize the release.
“Would that job include stringing a wire across the path?” Shadoe was so mad she didn’t care what she said.
At first he couldn’t believe what she was accusing him of. When he looked into her face, he saw that she was dead serious. “Don’t be a fool. Why would I try to hurt you?”
She didn’t have an answer for that, but then she didn’t understand anything about him any more. “I warned you once about trespassing on Double S land. I see you didn’t believe me.” She gathered up Scrapiron’s reins in her hands. “The ranchers don’t have a lot of weapons, Hank, but we intend to use what we have.”
“Does that include arsenic?”
She swung up into the saddle before she looked at him. “No. I wouldn’t poison an animal, not even a wolf. But I do intend to call the television station as soon as I get home. I think they’ll find it interesting that the spokesperson for the rancher’s coalition was attacked today on her own property while a federal agent was trespassing at the very same spot.”
Hank started to reach out and grab her arm, to hold her until she admitted that she knew he’d never try to harm her. But did she really know that about him? He had his doubts about her.
“I don’t know what you might do, Shadoe. At this moment, I wouldn’t put anything past you.”
She turned Scrapiron. “I won’t use poison, but I will use public opinion, and I’ve had years of training in how to make it go my way.”
“I didn’t think you’d stoop to lying.”
“Oh, but you thought I’d use arsenic. You have a very strange sense of degrees of evil.” She could see she’d gotten to him, and it felt good. “I won’t be lying anyway. Simply stating the facts. You’re here. I was injured by a booby trap. I’m not going to accuse you-I’ll let the public draw their own conclusions.”
Hank felt as if he’d spun backward in time. Back to a place he didn’t want to be. Shadoe had no way of knowing—did she?—that the scenario she had painted was the one that would get him fired, and likely brought up on charges. It had been five years before that a television reporter had leveled almost the exact same charge against him, and tried to pin him with charges of assault and attempted rape. The woman had been discredited, but Hank’s career had suffered, and this time he would not escape with a reprimand and lack of promotion. But he’d be damned if he was going to try to explain this to Shadoe. First of all, she wouldn’t give a hoot in hell, and secondly, she might get too much satisfaction from it.
Shadoe nudged Scrapiron along the trail until she came to the wire. Pulling a pair of wire cutters from the pouch that was tied to the side of her saddle, she clipped the thin strand and watched it snap back into the trees.
“If I were you, I’d be more concerned about who tried to high wire you than figuring out a public relations campaign.” He was concerned about the wire, but she’d never believe that.
“Why don’t you investigate?” The question stung with sarcasm.
“I think I will.”
“Well, be sure you do a thorough job, because I’d better not catch you on Double S land again or I’ll press charges. I mean it, Hank. Billy won’t like it, but he upholds the law.”
Hank leaned down and picked up his gun. He held it loosely in his right hand. He watched as Shadoe put her heels into Scrapiron’s ribs, urging him home. He was left with a number of serious questions about the wire and the man he’d been pursuing once again on Shadoe’s landalmost as if he were being deliberately led into encounters with Shadoe. Those were concerns he had to address, but the one question he couldn’t seem to shake was, would there ever come a day when Shadoe Deerman failed to get under his skin?
Chapter Eight
Shadoe took the longer route home. The ranchers were holding a strategy meeting that evening, and she was expected at Hoss Kemper�
��s house, but the encounter with Hank had stolen her fire. She wanted only to be alone. As soon as she was half a mile away from him she lost the anger that had kept her back erect and her eyes snapping. Now the pain would no longer be kept at bay. And the questions. What was he doing at Flashing Silver Creek, on Double S property? Was it Hank she’d seen in the woods? If so, was he watching her? And why? What motive could anyone have for watching her take a trail ride on her horse?
Beneath all of the questions was the sense of loss. For a few minutes, the years had fallen away and she had stepped into the past. His touch on her hair, on her chest, his arm around her waist had been so natural. So perfect.
So much a lie.
And his half-spoken accusation burned in her heart. He would still own Copperwood Ranch if she hadn’t fled Montana like the demons of hell were pursuing her. He’d never said that to her. No one had. But it was true. Completely true.
Hank’s parents had died when he was fifteen, but they had left him the ranch and enough money to survive. It was Shadoe’s father who had convinced him to buy more cattle. Hank and Jimmy were going to work together, father and son. Joey would become a partner, too, as soon as he was old enough to help. And Shadoe would be daughter and bride. But Jimmy’s death had changed it all. Hank had lost his investment, and ultimately the ranch. Shadoe, who had fled Hank and Montana, had not known about the financial complications until Copperwood was already sold at auction.
Hank had sent her urgent messages-and she had torn them up without reading them because she thought he was asking her to return to Montana. Connie had never mentioned a word about the other, the money and the cattle.
And Hank would never believe otherwise.
Halfway home, Shadoe pulled Scrapiron to a walk. He’d had enough galloping for the day and there was no point letting him exhaust himself simply because she wanted to run away from Hank faster. At that thought she straightened her back. She’d come to Montana because she was tired of running. She was done with it, and not even Hank Emrich was going to make her turn tail again.
Fifteen minutes later she topped a hill in the horseshoe pasture and spotted the roof of the barn. As she drew closer, she saw that Jill’s pickup truck was parked at the double doors. Concern made her urge Scrapiron into a trot.
As soon as they were in the barnyard she swung to the ground. Reins in hand, she hurried toward the stalls. She found her friend sitting on a tack trunk drinking a cold cola.
“What’s wrong?”
Jill swallowed and sighed. “The horses are fine. I can see that’s your first worry.”
“Thank goodness.” Shadoe took a deep breath of relief. But the worned look was still on her friend’s face. “What is it then?”
Jill shook the cola and watched it foam in the tinted bottle. “In a word, Hank.”
“I know.” Shadoe busied herself untacking Scrapiron and rubbing him down.
“You don’t know this. Or at least if you do, you must be psychic.”
Peering over the horse’s withers, Shadoe waited with brush in hand. “Well, are you going to tell me or are you going to tease me?”
“I wish this were a tease.” Jill stood up. “I got a call about an hour ago, from a woman in Washington D.C. Does the name Kathy Lemon mean anything to you?”
Shadoe had moved the brush and was working on Scrapiron’s hide. “Not a single thing.” Even though she spoke pertly, she was beginning to have a very bad feeling.
“She was a television reporter in D.C.”
“Not exactly my circle of friends.”
“Not yours, but Hank’s.”
Shadoe continued to ply the brush, her face carefully composed to show no expression. “So? I suppose in the years that have passed, Hank has had plenty of female friends. I’ve led my life.”
“It isn’t that, Shadoe. In a way I wish it were.” Jill shrugged. “I know you deny it, but I’ve always felt you still have feelings for Hank. What you and he felt for each other was a lot deeper than high school puppy love. Even we could see that. It was. magical.”
“It waslove, and it isthe past.” Shadoe couldn’t even muster pretend anger at her friend. Her encounter with Hank had left her too raw to feign indignation. “Just tell me the point to all of this.”
“This woman called and said she saw a news clip of you, about the wolves. Hank was also in that clip, and she recognized him. She recognized you, too, from some of the things he’d said about you.” Jill hesitated.
“So far this doesn’t sound like anything I’m going to need medical attention to recover from.” She did feel slightly better. Jill was good at making a mountain out of a molehill.
“Shadoe, this woman said Hank made threats against you. She said he was always talking about getting even with you about the past. She said he was a very bitter man and capable of anything and that in the past his badge had protected him from prosecution. She called to warn you.” Jill shook her head and then went to her friend. “She called Billy trying to find you and when you didn’t answer your phone, Billy gave her my number.”
Shadoe didn’t believe a word of it, not for an instant. Hank wasn’t the kind of man who would hurt a woman. Not even one who’d caused him to lose his ranch.
“I know you’re thinking this isn’t possible, but Ms. Lemon said he had done the same thing to her and that he had ruined her career and—”
“You listened to this?” Shadoe dropped the brush in the grooming kit and walked around to face her friend.
“I didn’t have much choice. The woman kept rattling on and on, and I have to tell you, Shadoe, she struck me as sincere.”
“Kooks can sound sincere.”
“She had dates, times. She even said she’d filed charges against him with the wildlife service. His friends helped him get off, but she said we could check with Harry Code to verify her accusations.”
“This woman was a television reporter?” Shadoe was trying to grasp what her friend had told her.
“For WDAT in D.C. She said Hank cost her her job.”
“Maybe, if she was running around making wild accusations, she needed to lose her job.” But the first inkling of doubt had crept into Shadoe’s mind.
“She said he physically assaulted her. That he tried to…rape her.” Jill sounded less certain, as if maybe she’d begun to try to match Hank with the described actions. She gave voice to her doubts. “Even I find that a little hard to swallow. Hank never was the type to physically attack another guy, much less a woman.”
Against her will, Shadoe’s mind returned to the night Scrapiron was let out of his stall. Hank had been right there. And again up at Silver Flash Creek, where a thin metal line could have killed her. Was it possible? In anger she’d considered the possibility. And rejected it. Now she found fear made her want to push the thought out of her mind. But she wasn’t running away again. Not from anything.
“Did this Kathy Lemon leave a telephone number?”
“She did.” Jill followed Shadoe as she took Scrapiron to the stall.
“Good.” Shadoe threw the latch. “Because I have a few questions for her.”
“What if it’s true?” Jill asked, horror in her tone.
“Then at least we’ll know the measure of the enemy.”
“Oh, Shadoe.” Jill took her friend’s shoulders and held them. “I can’t bear to hear you call Hank the enemy, as if he were a horrible person or something awful.”
“If he’s done the things this woman accuses him of doing, then he is awful, Jill. The best we can do is ask smart questions and see what’s true and what’s not.”
“Will you believe her?”
“I don’t know. But I will believe Hank’s personnel record with the wildlife service, and that’s something I think Billy can check on for us no matter what Ms. Lemon says.”
Shadoe started toward the house and Jill followed, her shorter legs having to work twice as hard to keep up with Shadoe. “I only hope we’re doing the right thing.”
Jill had the number in her purse, and Shadoe dialed the phone while her friend made a pot of coffee. Neither of them wanted coffee, but Jill needed something to do. Shadoe heard her rummaging in the kitchen as the phone rang six times, seven, then eight. She was about to hang up when a woman answered. In two sentences, Shadoe had confirmed that she was talking with Kathy Lemon, former newscaster and current television publicity woman for a mail-order cosmetics line.
To Shadoe, Kathy sounded sane, stable and wellmeaning. As Kathy ran down her professional achievements, Shadoe found that she was comparing herself to the woman on the other end of the line. The similarities were striking. Both had grown up in the west and gone south for an education. Where Shadoe had gone immediately into advertising, Kathy had followed her ambition to become a network anchor. And she had a good start, to hear her tell it, until she’d run amok of Hank Emrich and a story regarding the illegal importation of exotic birds.
“Hank promised me a scoop, but what he did was wreck my credibility,” Kathy Lemon said.
“Why should I believe you?” Shadoe found she was gripping the phone.
“Believe or don’t. It’s just that he mentioned you so often. I mean all the time. At first I was a little jealous.” She paused. “I guess I should tell you I was attracted to Hank. Very much so. Until I discovered what kind of man he really is.”
“What happened with the birds?”
“Hank and two other agents had set up a sting. They could have gotten the local dealers easy enough, but Hank wanted the suppliers, the folks down in the islands who trap the birds. He knew if he arrested the stateside dealers, then the suppliers would just find a new outlet for the birds. Hank wanted to shut them down.”
Shadoe listened. So far, it sounded perfectly like Hank. He never did a job partway when he could go whole-hog.
“I got onto the story through a friend of mine in the Wildlife Service. I had everything. I knew as much about the bird scam as Hank, and he cut a deal with me. I would hold my story if he would tell me when the bust was coming down so I could get some action shots. It would be the story that made my career. It would have proved I was a good reporter and able to function under stress.”
Midnight Prey Page 10
