Jill Sorenson - Set The Dark On Fire

“Sorry to be so bossy,” Shay said, furrowing a hand through her tangled hair. “It’s just been… one of those days.”

Lori snorted. “Tell me about it.”

Shay studied her friend, noting that Lori looked a little the worse for wear herself. Her eyes were puffy and red, as if she’d been crying. “What’s wrong?” she asked, glancing back at Tommy. He was drooling happily, chewing on a blue teething ring.

“Garrett is. Same as always.”

Shay’s heart went out to her, but she knew when to keep her mouth shut. Once, just once, she’d said, “Why don’t you divorce him?” and Lori let her have it.

“I think he’s seeing other women.”

“No,” Shay breathed, shocked by the idea. Garrett had always looked at other women, and wasn’t shy about getting an eyeful, but he wasn’t a toucher. As far as Shay knew, he’d been faithful to Lori. He was a terrible, horrible, faithful husband.

“He gets calls at all hours. And not just from bookies and poker fiends.”

“Women call him?” Shay said, her eyes narrowing. “At the house?”

She nodded miserably. “And on his cell.”

Shay couldn’t believe Garrett would be such a fool. He was damned lucky to have Lori, who was beauty to his beast. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. My mom said she would watch Tommy tonight so we can talk.”

Stunned into silence, Shay sat back in her seat to contemplate the situation. As big as her problems with Dylan were, and as harrowing as the events of the past few days had been, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. She’d been so distracted. Had she let her friend down?

“I’m here for you.”

Lori smiled through her tears. “I know.”

“If you ever need someone to talk to, or even a place to stay…”

“Thanks,” Lori said, wiping her cheeks. “But I can always move back in with my parents if it comes to that.”

When they arrived at Dark Canyon, Shay gave her friend a big, long hug. Tears filled her eyes, because she wanted the best for Lori. Shay also had her own man troubles to deal with, and she wished they had time to talk now. She could use a supportive ear.

Tommy let out a high-pitched wail, and they broke apart.

“I think he needs to go down for a nap,” Lori said, apologizing. “Will you be okay?”

“Of course. Will you?”

Instead of answering, Lori promised to call her later, and Shay climbed out of the passenger seat. With Tommy fussing in the backseat, Lori put the car into gear and turned the radio up as she drove away.

This morning, after going outside to wait for the ambulance, Shay had forgotten to lock up the Visitors’ Center. Thank goodness her keys were in the purse on top of her desk, where she’d left them. Changing out of the hospital gown was her first order of business, but before she grabbed her extra clothes, she walked through the building warily, almost expecting to see a human assailant. She wasn’t sure she believed the snake had been delivered to her with evil intent, but too many weird things had happened lately to call them all co incidences.

Luke would be so pissed if he knew she was here alone right now.

The cardboard box the rattler had been delivered in was lying on the floor next to the exam table, innocuous and empty. The snake itself was stretched out in a roomy glass enclosure, unaware of the trouble it had caused. Tiptoeing lightly on her bare feet, she searched the office and the back room, even going so far as to look under the stalls in the restrooms.

The place was deserted.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she took the change of clothes from her desk drawer and ducked into the bathroom. Working with wildlife was often messy, so she always kept a backup outfit on hand. The dark brown corduroys hung too low on her hips, and the old blue T-shirt left a strip of her midsection bare, but even the most ill-fitting ensemble was better than a hospital gown. Slipping on the pair of ratty canvas sneakers, she pulled her hair into a quick ponytail and used the facilities before she walked out.

A man locked his arm around her waist as soon as she cleared the door, lifting her off her feet and hauling her against him. Her first instinct was to kick and fight, but she froze the instant she felt the cold barrel of a gun digging into her temple.

If she hadn’t just emptied her bladder, she’d have peed her pants.

After parting ways with Clay at Wild Rivers Casino, Luke drove out to Dark Canyon.

Via CB radio, Clay informed him that two FBI special agents had arrived at the construction site to process evidence, and the medical examiner had been allowed to transport the body to the morgue to perform the autopsy. Dr. Hoyt confirmed what Luke already suspected. Bull Ryan had no visible injuries besides the laceration to his scalp, which appeared to have been inflicted after his heart stopped beating.

Hoyt couldn’t speculate on the cause of death until the autopsy was complete, but he was able to estimate the time it happened: yesterday in the early evening.

Luke thanked Clay for the information and signed off, wondering why the hell anyone would want to mess around with a dead body. Yesenia Montes had been moved after the lion attack, and Bull Ryan’s corpse had been given a new hairline.

It didn’t make sense.

He arrived at the Visitors’ Center a short time later and let himself in. A small cardboard box was lying on the floor next to a stainless steel exam table, just as Shay had described.

She said she hadn’t noticed it the night before, and he knew damned well it hadn’t been there during their tryst. He might have been hard as nails with only one thing on his mind, but he was still a cop, trained to notice every detail.

Someone had brought this package here early this morning, hours or minutes after he left with Shay. When he found out who, Luke was going to rip him apart with his bare hands. Maybe even shove the fucking snake down his throat.

There was no sign of a break-in, no discernible footprints near the front door or any tire impressions on the dry desert earth outside. After giving the grounds a quick inspection, and scowling at what must be the offending snake, who appeared to be relaxing comfortably in a posh-looking habitat, he took a pen out of his pocket and crouched down next to the box, upending it carefully.

A triangle-shaped object tumbled out, clattering on the tile floor.

Luke couldn’t believe his eyes. He wasn’t an expert, but this was a cultural artifact anyone could recognize.

It was an arrowhead, knapped from black obsidian.

His mind raced with possibilities. He didn’t believe an Indian had left the spear point here any more than he believed one of his people had scalped Bull Ryan.

So what the hell was going on?

The sound of running water in the restroom brought him up short. He drew his weapon, staying low and cursing himself for a fool. There were no cars outside, other than the one Shay left in the parking lot this morning, and he hadn’t bothered to do a thorough sweep.

It was a stupid, careless mistake.

Moving fast, he approached the door to the women’s restroom and stood beside it, his pulse pounding with adrenaline.

He had his gun to her head and his arm clamped around her waist as soon as she came out. With her body flush against his, he could smell her hair and that tantalizing herbal scent. Luke recognized Shay with all of his senses.

Horrified, he released her. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

She whirled around to look at him, her eyes wide with fear. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He holstered his revolver, noting that his hands were shaking. “I could have killed you,” he said, chilled by the thought.