Си Бокс - Dark Sky

As the helicopter descended to the tarmac and Joe could see Price’s Gulfstream taxiing over to meet them, Price said, “You’re a good man, Joe Pickett. I can’t say I’ve met many like you. It warms my heart to know men like you still exist.”

Joe looked away, his face flushing hot.

Before Price unbuckled his seat belt and exited the aircraft, he turned and handed the envelope to Joe.

“Take it,” he said.

Joe did, reluctantly. Then Price was gone.

He bounded up the stairs of the jet with more energy than Joe would have imagined the man still had. Before the stairs telescoped up and the door was closed, Price turned and took a last look at the mountains, the sky, and Joe, who was still seated in the helicopter.

Price shouted, “Nature sucks!” Joe couldn’t hear the words because of the jet engines wrapping up. But he could read his lips.

Joe unfolded the envelope and read it. Then he read it again.

In a childlike wavery script, it said:

I.O.U., Joe Pickett

100,0000 First-Class Shares of Aloft Corp.

Signed,

Steve-2 a.k.a. Steven Price, CEO

He slid the envelope into the back pocket of his Wranglers and stiffly climbed out of the helicopter to solid ground. He was stunned.

Joe thought, Won’t Marybeth be surprised?

THIRTY

Nate drove home in the borrowed pickup with the now-empty horse trailer clattering along behind him and raising a cloud of dust. As he did, he dug out the cell phone Liv had insisted he take along and powered it up.

The screen showed four missed calls, all from Liv. They’d come within a five-minute stretch two hours before. None came after. She’d not left a message.

Liv never did that. Something was wrong. He jammed the accelerator to the floor while calling her back. She didn’t pick up and his call went to her voicemail.

—

Even from a distance, as he topped the hill that led to his compound in the sagebrush prairie, he could tell that things weren’t right at home. The symmetrical lines of his falcon mews were crooked and the wire mesh that had been stapled to the frame of it was torn away.

The Yarak, Inc. van Liv usually drove was parked in the open outbuilding next to his home. Meaning she was there but not picking up.

Two of his red-tailed hawks strutted around on the roof of his house. Their hoods had been removed and they’d been set free but had apparently returned.

He blasted by the mews with a sidewise glance as he passed by. There were no live birds inside sitting on their stoops, but there were at least three lifeless falcon carcasses on the ground, their feathers rippling in the wind.

With a flood of adrenaline and outright dread roaring through his body, Nate slammed the pickup to a stop in the front yard and bailed out with his weapon drawn. There was no movement from the closed drapes in the window, because no one was looking out.

He followed his gun through the front door, ready for anything.

Liv was seated in a kitchen chair in the middle of the front room. Her eyes were swelled shut, but he could see her pupils on him through the slits. Her face was bruised and the left side of her hair was flat with matted blood. Her ankles were duct-taped to the legs of the chair and her wrists to the arms of it. Silver duct tape had been wrapped around her head so she couldn’t speak.

He was enraged.

“Are they still here?” he whispered.

She emphatically shook her head no. He shoved his revolver into his shoulder holster and removed the tape from her face. It left a two-inch mark and indentations in her cheeks.

“Kestrel,” was the first word she said.

He went cold. “Did they take her?”

“No. I think he would have, but he didn’t know about her. I hid her before he came in.”

They’d discussed their safe place before, a place Liv was to hide in if danger came to their house. He closed his eyes for a second in relief that both Liv and his baby girl were there.

“I heard him out there in the mews,” Liv said as he cut the tape from her wrists and ankles. “When I looked out, I saw him loading the falcons he wanted into his vehicle. He took a bunch of them and he snapped the necks of those he didn’t want. That’s when I called you the first time. You didn’t pick up.”

“I’m sorry,” Nate said.

“Nate, he scared me. He had a really cold look in his eyes and I think he would have taken Kestrel if he’d known she was here.”

“You did the right thing. Are you hurt?”

“I think I’m okay, but he beat the shit out of me,” Liv said. “He must have tied me up when I was unconscious.”

“Who was it? How many?”

“One man,” she said. “But he was strong and he was a demon. When I yelled at him to leave the falcons alone, he came after me and started swinging. I don’t think he realized anyone was at home. The SUV had green Colorado plates.”

The second she was free, Liv stood up and ran to their bedroom. Nate followed.

Before she could throw the rug back and grasp the steel ring on the floor, he heard Kestrel say, “Da!”

“I’ll do it,” he said as he opened the panel that led to the crawl space beneath the house. It was dark down there and Kestrel sat on the dirt floor. She clutched her plush dinosaur companion and looked up at him and beamed. When she saw Liv’s face, Kestrel was startled and she began to cry.

He snatched her up and his impulse was to hug her so tightly it might crush her. He kissed her chubby cheek and handed her over to Liv. Kestrel clutched handfuls of loose dirt in each hand.

“She’s okay,” he said.

“She didn’t yell out at all,” Liv said, nuzzling her baby. “She’s such a good girl.”

“You both are,” Nate said.

—

On the way to the emergency room with Kestrel strapped into her car seat, Nate said, “After you get looked at, I’m taking you both to Joe and Marybeth’s for a few days.”

“Joe’s okay?”

“Joe’s okay.”

“Thank God.”

“I can’t say the same for some other guys.”

He briefly told her what had happened in the mountains, and while she took it in, she listened with disbelief. He tried to keep his voice calm as he fought against the cold black rage building up inside of him.

“How long will you be gone?” she asked.

He took a moment to answer. “Just as long as it takes to kill Axel Soledad for what he did to you. And to get my birds back.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The author would like to thank the people who provided help, expertise, and information for this novel.

Sources include “The Egg Thief” by Joshua Hammer, which appeared in Outside magazine on January 7, 2019, as well as Horses, Hitches, and Rocky Trails by Joe Back, Packin’ in on Mules and Horses by Smoke Elser and Bill Brown, and Meat Eater: Adventures from the Life of an American Hunter by Steven Rinella.

Special kudos to my first readers, Laurie Box, Molly Box, Becky Reif, and Roxanne Woods.

A tip of the hat to Molly Box and Prairie Sage Creative for cjbox.net, merchandise design, and social media assistance.

It’s a sincere pleasure to work with professionals at Putnam, including the legendary Neil Nyren, Mark Tavani, Ivan Held, Alexis Welby, Ashley McClay, and Katie Grinch.

And thanks once again to my terrific agent and friend, Ann Rittenberg.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

C. J. Boxis the author of twenty Joe Pickett novels, six stand-alone novels, and a story collection. He has won the Edgar, Anthony, Macavity, Gumshoe, and Barry Awards, as well as the French Prix Calibre .38, and has been a Los Angeles Times Book Prize finalist. A Wyoming native, Box has also worked on a ranch and as a small-town newspaper reporter and editor. He lives outside Cheyenne with his family. His books have been translated into twenty-seven languages.