Stalking a bear, or any kind of large predator at night, required something more accurate and more powerful than her 9mm .357 SIG. From her weapons chest in the bedroom closet, she fished out her tactical rifle, an M-14 with flashlight, scope and laser attachments, the kind snipers used.
*****
With her arsenal locked in the truck, Madison ignored the front door and walked around to the back of Kal’s house bathed in sunset. When she grabbed the railing and climbed the three steps to the wooden deck, she held her breath at the sight. Kal had created an intimate atmosphere outside, a beautifully set table, enhanced by the glow of fluttering candles along the banister, and lively jazz seeping out from inside the house, through the wide-open glass doors. How did he know she liked jazz? But, of course, he didn’t.
"Just in time!"
His deep voice made Madison gaze toward the doorway. Kal stood there, the turquoise vest opened so she noticed the silver chain on tan, hairless pectorals. The last golden rays of sunlight glinted off his smooth face. Devoid of the grime from the metal shop, he radiated health and refinement. He’d left his long black hair loose on his shoulders. Silver bracelets enhanced his muscled arms.
Madison sighed at the vision of manliness. Did he think this was a date? God help her. Resisting this man wouldn’t be easy. "I feel underdressed for the romantic ambiance."
"You look perfect." Kal strode onto the patio, wiping his hands on a towel. Strong hands. He looked straight at her with startling green eyes and smiled, as if he knew the devastating effect he had on her. "I hope you like wine."
"Love it." She’d answered too quickly. Madison felt awkward in her dark sweats. But she had come to work, and she couldn’t get distracted by a superficial crush. He was gorgeous and he knew it. But so was Jake.
"I opened a bottle of 1995 Nuits Saint Georges from the cellar and let it breathe." He turned the bottle on the table to show her the label.
"I see." He had a cellar and knew classic French wine? Madison glanced at the white and red linen on the deck table, the triangular Danish dinnerware, and the geometric vase of white roses in the center. The man had a sense of style, and he lived grandly. This particular artist wasn’t the starving kind.
Kal pulled out a chair for her. "If you please, dinner is ready."
When Madison sat, she felt his breath on her nape, and his long hair brushed her cheek, making her shiver. He smelled of exotic jungle flowers and moss. She had to steel herself against the wave of pheromones he exuded. It took great effort not to lean closer to him. Was he smelling her hair?
He straightened, poured a dash of red wine in Madison’s glass and stood there, waiting for her to taste it, a grin on his face. "Tell me what you think."
"I’m on duty. I shouldn’t drink." But her resolve started to weaken.
"It’s only wine." His caressing voice could have been that of the devil himself.
"One glass, then." Madison couldn’t help but smile. "Alcohol and firearms don’t mix."
Kal had probably gone to great lengths to make this dinner special. She should oblige him. A small price to pay for a comfortable night watch on his back porch. She dutifully swirled the wine in the glass.
He watched her intently. "I see you know something about wine."
"A little." In truth, she had studied and harvested grapes in California, but she didn’t want to come across as a know-it-all. She took a sip, rolled the nutty taste across her tongue. "Smooth, perfect temperature." She smiled, pleasantly surprised. "I could get used to this."
"Glad you approve." Kal filled both glasses and drank standing up then sighed. "It’s my favorite French burgundy, but it has to be served just right."
She raised her glass. "Congratulations on a perfect delivery."
A smile lit his face at the compliment. He raised his glass to her then set it on the table. "I’ll be right back."
When he turned his back to walk into the house, Madison had to remind herself that she had come to catch a killer, not enjoy an evening of fine wine, good food, and pleasant company. Why did she feel so attracted to Kal? He was nothing like the men she knew, all cops and rangers. But Kal should remain a suspect. Madison had better watch how much she drank.
"I have a few hours before the night predators emerge," Madison said, making conversation toward the open door as she settled against the chair cushions and tried to relax. The sun dipped behind the hills, streaking red across a dark turquoise sky. "With the soft background music, it feels like a wide screen documentary from Arizona Highways out here."
Kal appeared in the doorway holding two plates. "Hope you like classic jazz."
"I do." It had been a long time since someone had treated Madison like a lady. Not since that sonovabitch, two-faced cheater, Jake. She didn’t want to rehash bad memories. Not tonight.
"It’s Sydney Bechet on the clarinet." Kal set the two plates of appetizing salad on the table. "Mixed greens with balsamic vinaigrette."
"I love Bechet." Madison couldn’t help but smile. "Enticing, slow and rhythmic, with a freshness and spontaneity no electronic instrument can replicate."
"So, you really like jazz." He smiled mysteriously as he sat across from her on the bench.
"Didn’t I say so?" Madison had eyes only for Kal, the way his muscles moved, and the play of the orange light on the regular planes of his face. He seemed in perfect control of his slightest movements at all times, like a cat, or a fine-tuned martial artist. Certainly, there could be no harm in enjoying the scenery.
She bit into a piece of lettuce and cherry tomato, making small appreciative sounds. "It’s good."
He dropped a napkin in his lap and dug into his salad. "I didn’t want to sound like a cliché by playing the Native flute. Although I have an extensive collection, if you prefer."
Madison shook her head and smiled. "Maybe later." Redirecting the conversation might avoid his probing into her plain, boring career and disastrous experiences with men. "Mrs. Esteban said you grew up on the Reservation."
"I am Hopi. It means the people of peace," Kal said it with pride. "And my name, Kaletaka, means Guardian of the People, according to the legends."
"What kind of legends?" Enjoying the food, Madison welcomed a lesson in Native American culture.
"Silly things, really." As he reached for the salt, his hand brushed her fingers on the tablecloth. Accident? Unlikely. Not according to the piercing way he stared into her eyes.
Shuddering with the electric charge of his contact, Madison quickly pulled back her hand. She’d enjoyed it a little too much, like the wine. She must remain sharp, and this man had a way of throwing her off balance. She felt herself blush under his insistent gaze as she set aside her empty plate.
To hide her embarrassment, she looked down and dabbed her mouth with her napkin. "I’m curious about these legends."
A strike of dry lightning illuminated the distant hills.
Kal glanced up and smiled. "My tribe believes that on a night like this, skinwalkers might walk the land."
The muffled sound of faraway thunder rumbled all around.
"Skinwalkers?" Madison had heard the word before but knew nothing about its meaning.
"Great Coyote, the creator of the universe, enters a human body so he can walk as a human for a while. And under the full moon, the man becomes half coyote." He stood and took away the salad plates.
Left alone on the deck, Madison pondered Kal’s story. Skinwalkers? Three dead animals under a full moon. Coincidence? Or was Kal trying to sell her on a shapeshifter legend? Night had fallen, and the moon shadows of the sculptures under the white tent looked ominous, as if they would start walking anytime. She chuckled at her own fear that morning, when the sculptures had spooked her.
Although she’d had only a few sips of wine, she felt euphoric. She should watch her drinking.
Kal returned with two steaming plates and set them on the table. "Chicken Marsala."
The appetizing dish, with mushrooms and onions, served
on a bed of bow-tie pasta, had a divine aroma. Madison took a bite and sighed with delight. "You made this from scratch? Where did you learn gourmet cooking?"
He nodded humbly and sat at the table. "I travel with my art. I have a knack with food. I learn fast."
"This is sublime." But the Marsala sauce contained alcohol, too. Madison had better watch her intake. "To get back to the legends, you mean skinwalkers are like werewolves, but coyotes?"
"A skinwalker can be any animal. All kinds of evil spirits can take over human beings. But the Coyote is the most sacred." The feral glint in his eyes made Madison shiver.
"But this is legend. It never happens, right?" Even fresh from the Reservation, he couldn’t be that remote from reality.
Kal took on a mysterious expression as he gazed upon her, and his voice changed to the rhythm of traditional storytelling. "Many elders claim to have seen shapeshifters. They skip generations but invariably return in regular cycles to do mischief in the glow of the full moon."
"But for what purpose?" Such stories just didn’t make sense.
"The Great Coyote, creator of the universe, is a mischievous god." The candlelight gave his skin a golden glow.
Madison forced down her mounting lust. This was no time for such thoughts. "Now I understand why you create such striking creatures in your art."
"Legends and mythology are great sources of inspiration." He topped off both glasses.
"But you don’t believe these legends, do you?"
"What we believe is irrelevant." His face closed, and he lowered his gaze to focus on his plate. He hadn’t answered the question. What was he hiding?
Madison took a sip of wine. "Any interesting stories?"
"There are plenty, but I don’t know them all." He shoved food into his mouth as if to avoid the topic. An obvious lie.
Madison remained silent. Why didn’t he want to tell her? Cricket chirps filled the night air, punctuating the conversation lag. The breeze carried a hint of sweet sage.
Kal glanced up, suddenly tense. "What about you? Why were you so adamant against accepting a date?" His teasing tone took a sharp edge. "Is there a boyfriend I should be worried about?"
"No." The answer came too quickly. Damn.
He beamed at her and grinned. Madison hated herself for being so transparent.
"An ex, maybe?" When she didn’t answer, his face grew serious. "One who did not treat you right?"
Madison sighed. "Actually, the man was very charming. Aren’t they all in the beginning?" Did the wine make her talk too much? She barely had one glass. So why was she babbling? Something about Kal loosened her tongue. "The bastard charmed every woman in a thirty mile radius into his bed. I can’t believe it took me months to find out."
"Obviously, he didn’t appreciate or deserve you." Kal said softly, gazing into her eyes.
"Thanks." She held his gaze a little too long then looked away to break the spell.
He raised the empty bottle. "Should I open another?"
Madison covered her glass with her hand. "That’s quite enough for me. Thank you."
"As for this stupid boyfriend of yours, you are better off without him."
"Right." But it didn’t help her self-esteem. Could boring little Madison ever be enough for a man?
For dessert, Kal demonstrated his skills with the blowtorch on some scrumptious crème brulée with blueberries. He served it along with strong coffee sweetened with Amaretto liqueur. Great! More alcohol.
"What was your childhood like?" He stirred his coffee, eyes fixed on his cup.
"My mother was a military medic. She died in Kuwait during Desert Storm. I have fond memories of her." Madison stopped the flow of words bubbling to the surface. She didn’t want to wax nostalgic in front of him.
Kal lifted one brow in concern. "And your father?"
"My father and my older brother are cops, and hunters. They trained me as a sharp shooter when I could barely hold a rifle." She sipped the coffee, enjoying the sweet almond taste from the Amaretto. "Later, they dragged me on hunting expeditions. But I couldn’t aim a gun at an innocent animal. It made me sick to my stomach."
"Yet you plan to shoot a wild animal tonight." His green eyes studied her with intensity.
"There is a difference." She couldn’t believe he didn’t see it. "This beast is a dangerous predator. It kills for the sake of killing."
"Of course." His eyes remained hooded. "Are you close to your family?"
"No." Why did he have to ask the difficult questions? "When I joined the rangers, they made fun of me. In their eyes, I don’t have what it takes to be a real cop. Truth is, I never wanted to be like them. I protect wildlife, I don’t kill for sport."
"Is that why you carry a gun?"
Madison shrugged. "Everyone I know carries a gun. All cops and rangers. Unlike you, they are often overbearing, impatient, controlling, always stressed out."
"But you are not like them."
"I try not to be. And with you, it’s easy."
He arched one brow. "How so?"
"You are a good listener." She wanted to say kind, full of attention, patient, but she had to remain professional. "For them, accepting this dinner would constitute a breach of ethics."
He nodded his appreciation. "It takes courage to stray from the pack."
She felt herself blush at the compliment. "Thank you."
Kal rose and picked up the dishes. "Can I offer you anything else?"
His sexy voice evoked a number of things, but Madison quickly pushed the naughty images from her mind. She stood, drank her last drop of coffee and handed him the empty cup. "I’m fine. Thanks for a wonderful dinner. I guess it’s time to set up for my watch."
While Kal went back to the kitchen, she removed the vase of flowers and couldn’t resist smelling their heady scent before setting them on a chair. What a lovely touch. But she would need the table surface for her equipment.
Kal returned and lifted the four corners of the tablecloth with the remains of their meal, gathered it like a bundle, crumbs, silverware and all, and carried it into the house. What an odd way of cleaning a table.
Madison went to retrieve her weapons from the truck. Despite the full moon, the stars shone brightly. When she returned to the back deck, carrying a heavy leather bag, the crickets had replaced the background music.
She heard Kal fussing in the kitchen while she set up the M-14 on its stand, on the bare deck table. Aiming it out toward the desert, she screwed on the silencer. No reason to wake up the neighbors, or disrupt the wildlife with loud gunshots in the night. She adjusted the scope then dug into the bag for an empty clip and a box of cartridges. She inserted cartridges in the clip.
Kaletaka brought her a mug of steaming coffee. "To keep you awake. There is a full pot inside."
"Thanks. This might be a long night." She also needed the caffeine to offset the effects of the alcohol in her blood. How could so little affect her so much? Maybe it wasn’t the wine but the company.
Glancing at the rifle, Kal frowned. "I’ll leave you to your work. I’ll keep the house unlocked."
"You’re not staying?" To hide her disappointment, Madison walked away and, one by one, blew out the candles lined up on the banister.
"I’m meeting my agent in Scottsdale, at the art gallery. The opening is in two weeks. We have to iron out the last details."
"At this time of night?" Was this a lie? Was he going to meet a woman? Madison hadn’t asked him about a girlfriend. It would be just like her to fall for another charming womanizer.
"Artists have nocturnal habits." He looked down again, as if ashamed. What was he hiding?
"I guess I’ll see you when you come back, then." Even to herself, Madison sounded clingy and hated it. Besides, she knew nothing about local artists. He could be telling the truth.
"Don’t wait up for me." He smiled and his green eyes sparkled. "Should I leave the porch lights on?"
"No, please turn everything off." She wanted to see him again
soon but didn’t dare ask. She forced a light tone into her voice. "This glass house lights up like a beacon. I don’t want to be seen against it. Besides, the full moon provides enough of a glow." Madison wished he would touch her. Maybe kiss her. What? Had she lost her mind?
Fortunately, he remained at the glass door and waved. "Good night, then. And good hunting." He walked back inside, and the lights went out.
Madison heard the front door close. She inserted the clip into the rifle. Locked and loaded. Then a motorcycle sped into the night. She smiled. Yes, Kal would be the motorcycle type.
She fished her weapons belt out of the bag and cinched it around her waist. She might need the sidearm as well. Then she settled into a chair facing the backyard and the expanse of desert.
As she waited for her predator, the night grew very quiet. The lights at Mrs. Esteban’s ranch next door went out as well. Only the sounds of locusts and crickets filled the air, with the occasional scurry of small rodents, and the flapping wings of nocturnal birds and bats. Madison welcomed the soothing calm of the desert at night.
Her thoughts returned to Kal. She couldn’t believe she’d just met him this morning. Although she enjoyed his company, she could not afford to trust him. Could he be that different from the other men in her life, or just manipulating her? She found it difficult to believe that such a sophisticated man could be a ruthless animal killer. Still, the sordid truth often baffled detectives. Human nature had too many quirks to make hasty judgments that often proved to be wrong, as Madison had found out with Jake.
She checked her watch. Eleven thirty. Soon the predators would come out of their lairs to feed and mate. The howl of coyotes in the distance raised the short fuzz on Madison’s nape.
Despite the odd paw prints, the killer had to be a bear. Recent studies showed that wild animals had begun to grow larger, stronger, and more dangerous. Not only in the Unites States, but all over the world, as if a global mutation process had started. It could explain the strange tracks.
Coyote Gorgeous Page 3
