Canyon Shadows

by Vonna Harper

Rachele rejoined Shari as the couple drove off with Prince doing flips in the backseat. “That’s what unconditional love looks like,” Rachele mused. “I’m thinking I’d be better off not looking for a man. I’ll just turn into a hoarder who surrounds herself with slobbering mutts.”

  Shari was trying to decide whether Rachele was onto something when Rachele’s cell buzzed.

  “Speaking of the devil,” Rachele said looking at the readout. “Dyson.”

  “Are you going to talk to him?”

  “I don’t want to before talking to Sheriff Bill.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “He’ll just keep calling.”

  Shari nodded at the still-buzzing phone. “I guess you could see what he has to say and take it from there.”

  “I want a witness. I’m putting this on speaker.”

  “The shit’s going to hit the fan,” Dyson said without so much as a hello. “Damn, damn, I wish I—they’re so mad.”

  “Who’s mad?” Rachele asked.

  “Greenspeakers, who do you think?” His voice rose an octave. “I’m scared to tell the police ’cause that’ll get me in even more trouble.”

  “Wait, back up.” Rachele fixed Shari with a concerned gaze. “What do you need to tell the police?”

  “Nothing. What makes you think—the cops tried to talk to me; did you know? Of course you did, you probably told them. Rachele, honey, I’d never do anything that might get you hurt. You have to believe me.”

  “That’s kind of hard to do after the way you threw me to the wolves,” Rachele pointed out. “Hey, you still haven’t said what you’re reluctant to tell the police.”

  Dyson’s so-called explanation jumped between wanting reassurance that Rachele didn’t hate him and his apparently newfound comprehension of how dangerous certain Greenspeakers members were. Demonstrating the patience she used with dogs, Rachele finally convinced him to get down to specifics.

  Despite Dyson’s declaration that he wanted nothing more to do with Greenspeakers, two of the most influential members had insisted on meeting with him last night. The face-to-face had been necessary, they’d said, because they had a tape they wanted him to listen to. The tape had been recorded right after he and Rachele broke up, and he’d had at least a six-pack of beer in him when he showed up for a Greenspeakers meeting.

  With anger and heartbreak fueling him, he’d loudly agreed with the others that the dam was the last thing the state needed. To hell with bureaucracy. To hell with the government telling people they had no say in how land they’d lived around all their lives could be used.

  “I didn’t mean half of what I said,” Dyson insisted. He sounded on the brink of tears. “Hell, I didn’t remember most of it.”

  “No, you probably don’t,” Rachele said. “But what does this have to do with me?”

  “Don’t you get it? I’m apologizing the only way I can. Rache, if I say anything, they’ll turn that tape over to the cops and I’ll be arrested.”

  “Why would they try to blackmail you? What is Greenspeakers up to?”

  “Don’t you get it? They’re making sure the dam doesn’t get built.”

  Eyes wide, Rachele covered her mouth with her hand. Shari did the same.

  “How do they intend to do that?” Rachele asked, her voice calm.

  “I shouldn’t be talking to you. You’ll go to the cops.”

  Determined to give Rachele all the support she could, Shari gripped the other woman’s hand.

  “Listen to me.” Rachele’s voice dropped to a near whisper.

  “You wouldn’t have called me if you didn’t want Greenspeakers stopped. You’re willing to put yourself at risk because you know they’re wrong; I admire you for that.” She winked at Shari. “I’m proud of you. Think about it, Dyson. Just because there’s a tape of you half-drunk babbling on doesn’t mean you’ll be going to jail.”

  “You think so?”

  Rachele shook her head. “I know. You couldn’t live with yourself if someone was hurt. Or killed. Is that possible? Do you know what Greenspeakers is planning?”

  Dyson didn’t respond. Her mind whirling, Shari mouthed the word bomb.

  “Is it some kind of explosive device?” Rachele asked.

  “Huh? What makes you say that?”

  Shari and Rachele stared at each other. Then Rachele took a long breath. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

  17

  Twenty minutes after Dyson admitted he’d learned that a Greenspeakers member had snuck on to the dam site and planted a remotely controlled device on an unspecified piece of machinery, the two women were speeding there. The male college student who worked at the kennels on Saturday had agreed to come and hold down the fort for a while. Rachele had called the sheriff’s department to bring them up to speed. Now as Rachele drove, Shari tried to contact Maco but reached his voice mail.

  “Maco,” she said, “it’s me. Call me the moment you get this. You’re in danger. The sheriff’s department knows. I’ll tell you the rest when you get in touch.”

  Neither woman tried to explain why they were unwilling to stay out of harm’s way while law enforcement did their job. Shari’s reason was both simple and complex. The thought of something happening to Maco made her sick.

  He had an incredible body and a voice that scraped her skin. His eyes pulled her so deep into him she forgot she was a separate human being. Every touch electrified her, and sex with him had had her figuratively climbing the walls.

  “Something about what Dyson told me doesn’t make sense,” Rachele said, bringing Shari back to reality. “It didn’t occur to me at first, but why did Greenspeakers decide to hold that tape over him? If Dyson can be believed, which I think he can be, he didn’t plant the bomb, if there really is one. It sounds as if he didn’t know about it until they told him. He might have never called me again if not for that.”

  Even with her mind on Maco’s safety, elements of Dyson’s conversation had been nagging at her. Now she understood why.

  “We didn’t hear the tape,” she said. “Maybe there’s stuff in there that would explain—something. Maybe Dyson was lying when he said he didn’t know about the bomb.”

  “But he had to realize I’d call the police. Why did he say anything?”

  A horrible possibility slammed into Shari. “Maybe to make sure the sheriff was there when it went off.”

  “Oh God, do you think that’s possible?”

  “I don’t know.” Shari stared at her unresponsive phone. Where was Maco?

  Maco’s cell phone had signaled he had another call coming in, but although he suspected it was Shari, talking to the sheriff took priority.

  “We have a full crew here,” he explained even as his mind reeled from what he’d just been told. “Work started at daylight. No way could anyone who didn’t belong have gone unnoticed.”

  “What about last night?”

  “Jason and I have a system,” he explained to the voice on the other end. “One of us stays up the first half of the night, then the other takes over. We stay outside so we can watch the dogs.”

  “They didn’t give an alarm?”

  “Nothing.” At the moment, Bruce and Tucker were sleeping in the shade, but they’d been awake and alert most of the night. They’d proven to be such light sleepers that they’d scared off a doe around two a.m. He’d known because even though Jason had been on duty at the time, sleep had been elusive for him ever since he’d last seen Shari. “I’m glad you’re coming, but I’d take odds you won’t find anything.”

  “I’m not sure I hope you’re right. If we found an incendiary device we could tie to Greenspeakers or even the local ranchers, we could all breathe easier.”

  Despite what Rachele’s former boyfriend had said, they only had his word to go by. Neither Maco nor Sheriff Bill had any intention of blindly buying into that. After telling the sheriff he’d see him shortly, Maco punched End. He had a message waiting, but instead of listening to what he believed would be Shari’
s voice, he went over what the sheriff had said.

  They weren’t dealing with kids playing some stupid game. Shooting Ona—if that was connected to what was going on in his world—and putting sand in a diesel tank left no doubt of that. Maybe there was a bomb, maybe there wasn’t. For all he knew, someone had him in the sights of a high-powered rifle right now.

  Damn it! He hadn’t signed up for this!

  In the perfect world that didn’t exist, he’d clock out at the end of a routine day and head to Shari’s place for some delicious dinner she’d prepared. He’d bring along a bottle of wine, and they’d sit on her porch watching the sun set.

  Or maybe they’d tear at each other the moment he walked in the door and fuck on the living room carpet.

  No complaints there. Dinner could wait. So could the wine and sunset. One thing wouldn’t, his crazy clawing need to have Shari’s body against his.

  No denying it, the woman had cast a spell over him. She’d taken command of his cock, no doubt about that. Even now it was responding to something as non-erotic as hoping her voice was on his phone.

  He was looking at the horizon, reminding himself that the real world and fantasy seldom if ever met, when he finished putting in his password and she started talking. With her first word, her emotion slammed into him. “Call me the moment you get this. You’re in danger.”

  No, he wasn’t, he wanted to reassure her, so she’d stop sounding as if she was trying not to scream. After she calmed down, he’d ask if she’d been sleeping and had she been thinking about him and did she need sex as much as he did?

  “Maco!” she blurted. “What took you so long?”

  “I was on the other line with the sheriff.”

  “Oh. Then you know about Dyson and the bomb?” He couldn’t tell whether or not she was relieved.

  “I know what that character has been spouting.” His fingers gripped the cell as if trying to find a way to pull her out of the device and into his arms. And him into her body. “But there’s no way anyone could plant a bomb here without me knowing.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “You trained Bruce and Tucker. You know how good they are.”

  She didn’t immediately respond. “Rachele and I will be there in a few minutes. What about the sheriff?”

  “About the same time. He’s bringing a couple of men from the state police’s bomb squad. A few minutes? I’ll be waiting.”

  She hung up without saying good-bye, but then maybe she didn’t know how. Same with him. He’d soon see her. That’s what mattered, not what they’d say or do once the seeing was over.

  Damn it! He had a business to protect. He didn’t dare let anything get in the way of that. Especially her.

  If only he could convince his emotions, nerves, and cock.

  A bomb squad van was parked near Maco’s office/trailer when Shari and Rachele pulled up. The blind instinct that had brought Shari here gave way to logic. Just because Dyson had yelled fire didn’t make it so. Besides, spotting Maco surrounded by two men wearing padded clothing and full-face helmets in addition to the sheriff and Jason made it impossible for her to focus on much of anything else.

  Her cowboy was alive. Safe.

  Of course he was, she sternly reminded herself, as she pulled the key from the ignition and got out. She’d watched her father die, but that was no reason to allow that nightmare to take over.

  “What are you two doing here?” the sheriff asked Rachele and her once introductions were over and the bomb squad had started for the helicopter.

  “I listened in on Dyson’s conversation with Rachele,” she explained. “He sounded pretty convincing.” Other than shaking Maco’s hand because it seemed expected, she hadn’t acknowledged him. Safer that way. Maybe. “He alarmed us.” She indicated Rachele.

  “I feel guilty.” Rachele reached down to pet Tucker, who was acting delighted to see her. “If I hadn’t dated Dyson, this wouldn’t be happening.”

  “Dyson is just one of the players,” Sheriff Bill said. “And he may have been manipulated.”

  “I agree.” Rachele shrugged. “He’s a follower, not a leader.” The sheriff nodded. “The problem is we don’t know where he is.”

  In response to the women’s puzzled expressions, the sheriff explained that as soon as Michele had told him about her conversation with Dyson, he’d dispatched a deputy to check both the gym where Dyson worked, which was where law enforcement had caught up with him before, and his apartment. He wasn’t at either.

  “The gym owner said he’d been there yesterday, but he didn’t know when he’d be back. I guess, as a physical trainer, his hours are determined by when he has clients. I take it he’s strong.”

  “Very,” Rachele said. “He never did anything that made me think he’d ever use his strength against me, but I was still a little intimidated. Muscles like that—”

  “Happen because a man doesn’t have anything else to do,” Jason broke in. “I don’t get it. Why doesn’t he get a real job?”

  Shari thought Rachele might take exception to what Jason had said, but she concentrated on petting Tucker. She’d thought the bomb technicians might want the dogs with them, but they weren’t trained in explosives detection. There was no reason to risk their lives right now.

  Maybe Maco, too, was thinking about Bruce’s and Tucker’s safety because he called Bruce to his side and started rubbing him between his ears. Bruce looked as if he was in heaven. Studying Maco’s tanned fingers, she knew her reaction would be the same if they were on her.

  How would it happen?

  Oh yes, fantasy. He’d walk into her bedroom and strip off his clothing while she slept. Naked and warm from the sun, he’d slide between the sheets and pull her on top of him. Nibbling on his lower lip, she’d straddle him while her breasts stroked his chest. His hand would slide between their bodies. After slipping a finger into her and finding her wet and ready, he’d angle his cock at her opening. She’d lower herself on to him.

  Male voices brought her back. Maco, Sheriff Bill, and Jason were agreeing that given how well the brothers and dogs guarded the site, they couldn’t see how an intruder could go unnoticed. They were right. Why then had she panicked?

  He was armed, damn it. Part and parcel of his revolver, the weapon an extension of him. His boots and jeans were dusty. The front of his shirt looked as if he’d wiped sweaty hands over his chest. He hadn’t shaved today, and his shadowy chin made him look more uncivilized than the last time she’d seen him. Maybe years from now he’d develop a paunch, but right now his belly was nonexistent beneath the leather holster. His chest was broad and his shoulders wide and rock hard, don’t forget that.

  As if she could.

  No wonder she’d kept her distance from him the past few days. The man turned her into a bitch in heat.

  Feeling her cheeks flush, she turned into the wind, but it was hot and did nothing to cool what was running through her.

  Why couldn’t today go away? Everyone leave, nightfall come. Just Maco’s and her body speaking to each other with her mind in hibernation. Her sex welcoming his cock and him filling her as she’d never been filled.

  The sheriff’s cell phone rang. Again yanked back to the real world, she prayed no one could guess at her thoughts. Then, although she didn’t want to, she acknowledged that Maco was looking at her. His eyes hadn’t been this dark before, had they?

  “All right,” the sheriff said into the phone. “Thanks.”

  Done with his call, he turned toward the others. “That was the gym owner. Dyson missed a standing session with a client. That’s never happened before. Looks to me as if our boy’s on the run.”

  “From who?” Shari and Rachele said at the same time.

  “Good question. Either he knows you’ve gone to the police or Greenspeakers is after him.”

  “This is crazy,” Jason muttered. “Does anyone know what the hell’s going on?”

  To Shari’s surprise, the sheriff laughed. “My guess is we have
a case of lack of cohesiveness.”

  Jason grunted. “What?”

  “Instead of one person being in charge at Greenspeakers, one person coordinating all activity aimed at closing things down here, we have who knows how many individuals thinking they know how to run the show. Dyson probably wants to get the hell away from everything and everyone.”

  “Could he be in danger?” Rachele asked.

  “It’s possible. I suspect he was manipulated into telling you what he did about an incendiary device being planted. What we don’t know is why. Maybe it’s an attempt to throw us off.”

  “In other words,” Maco said, “there’s no bomb. It’s something else.”

  “What is that something?” Shari blurted. Her head pulsed.

  “We don’t know, yet.”

  Much as she wanted to take comfort from the sheriff’s yet, she knew better than to blindly believe the local financially strapped law enforcement would solve everything. After all, one of the two men involved in her father’s murder had never been apprehended.

  Minutes ago she’d felt too emotionally off balance to risk studying Maco for more than a second or two. Now she did. His business was at stake. Maybe his life and the lives of those who worked for him were at risk. Yet despite that frightening unknown, he still had a job to do, one he’d never walk away from. How different he was from her mother.

  And in some respects, from her. He’d never let a decades’ old nightmare keep him from learning how to use a weapon. Even more important, he’d never understand why she’d buried the name she’d been born with.

  “What happens now?” Maco asked. “The squad does their job. If they don’t find anything, we put more pressure on Greenspeakers.”

  “How?”

  “Maybe by telling them we have an informant.”

  “Informant?” Rachele blurted. “Dyson didn’t tell us that much.”

  “The others don’t know that.”

  “I’m sorry you’re being pulled into this,” Maco told Shari. “It shouldn’t be any of your concern.”