Alice Sharpe - Westin Legacy

“I know you don’t. But you’re injured and someone needs to cover your back.”

“And that someone is you,” he said, and the tone of his voice let her know what he thought of that idea.

“I’m better than nothing,” she said, and then added, “Don’t say I’m not. You know it’s true. If these men are as horrible as you say they are, two people are better than one.”

“Not when one of them is a pretty woman,” he said, “which is why I’m asking you for the last time to turn the truck around and drive to the airport.”

She spared him another glance “I’m relieved to hear you say this is the last time you’re asking. It’s getting monotonous. Listen, Adam, I promise I’ll go meekly away after this little visit. You’ll never have to even think of me again.”

He opened his mouth to speak and closed it again without uttering a word. What was the point? He knew he’d never stop thinking about her.

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This book is dedicated with love and appreciation to my husband, Arnold, brainstormer superb!

Alice Sharpe met her husband-to-be on a cold, foggy beach in Northern California. One year later they were married. Their union has survived the rearing of two children, a handful of earthquakes registering over 6.5, numerous cats and a few special dogs, the latest of which is a yellow Lab named Annie Rose. Alice and her husband now live in a small rural town in Oregon, where she devotes the majority of her time to pursuing her second love, writing.

Alice loves to hear from readers. You can write her at P.O. Box 755, Brownsville, OR 97327. An SASE for reply is appreciated.

Adam Westin —It’s up to him to stop the looting of the prehistoric burial cave located on Open Sky land before an explosive threat from the past destroys everything—and everyone—he loves.

Echo De Gris —She spent her first years of life on the Open Sky. She’s back now, but just for a visit. Becoming reacquainted with her childhood nemesis makes her wonder if she’ll ever want to leave. A killer makes her wonder if she’ll live long enough to get away.

Cody Westin —He’s determined not to make the same mistake his father made. He wants his wife back—is he too late?

Brice Westin —Is it true he doesn’t know where Adam’s mother disappeared to all those years ago, or is it possible he’s known all along and will now do anything to protect that secret?

Lonnie Nielsen —He’s in for a heap of trouble. Or is he causing it?

Del Halverson —One of Brice’s oldest friends. What exactly did he do when he left Wyoming? And is he doing it again?

J.D. Oakes —Another old pal with a hazy past. Is it finally catching up with him?

Pete Westin —Echo’s stepfather. Is it a coincidence that he left the Open Sky after Adam’s mother’s disappearance, and returned the day the violence escalated?

David Lassiter —The cowpoke who ran off with Adam’s mother. Or did he?

Willet Garvey —He’s no fan of the Westins. How far will hatred and greed take him?

Hank Garvey —Willet’s son, Hank is determined to exact revenge at any cost.

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

As Lonnie fumbled the key in the lock, he glanced over his shoulder and scanned the faces of his buddies.

“Remember, you guys,” he said, not too surprised to detect a slur in his voice. Damn hooch sure snuck up on a man. “This is top secret. You gotta…gotta promise you won’t tell anyone about this. Especially not Janine.”

The other two men nodded solemnly.

The key finally clicked and he pushed in the door. He didn’t want to turn on the light until he’d secured the room again. Never knew when Janine might take it into her head to come on down to the basement and make sure he wasn’t gambling her trust fund away on a busted flush. He urged his friends forward into the heavy shadows. “Don’t touch nothing,” he warned.

Once they were all crammed inside, he closed the door, slid the dead bolt, switched on the light and waited for a chorus of gratifying gasps.

“What’s all this junk?”

The corners of Lonnie’s mouth drooped. “What do you mean, what is it? It’s artifacts.”

“Your ‘private stash’ is bunch of old broken pots?” one man scoffed. Now Lonnie was getting mad. After all these years he had finally decided to share his collection and this was what he got? He pointed at a square-looking figure in a glass case. “That there, that’s a rare Central American Human Effigy. Worth almost five thousand bucks.” He pointed at another case. “And that canteen is Southwest Anasazi. I paid three thousand for it. The case over there is full of Mississippian Indian relics. Any museum would love to have just one of these things.”

“Where’d you get ’em?”

This came from his best friend of the group, who was eyeing Lonnie as though he was some kind of traitor.

“Here and there.”

“Black market?”

Lonnie shrugged.

“What about this?”

Lonnie turned to admire a prehistoric carved rock bowl. The handle was a crude rendition of a human head, turned away from the indentation, the skull overlaid with a veneer of gold.

“That’s my latest purchase,” Lonnie boasted. “It’s local, from right here in Wyoming. No one knows which tribe, but it’s old. Prehistoric. Paid a bundle for it, too.”

“Someone local sold it to you? Who?”

Lonnie shook his head. “No, no, I ain’t telling. He promised me more pieces though. Said he was going deeper, whatever that means.”

There was a sudden chill in the room as though a north wind had just blown over the top of an icy Rocky Mountain peak. Lonnie looked from one face to the next. Neither set of eyes revealed a thing.

It was there, though. In the air. Something cold and watchful.

He rubbed his eyes, wondering if the booze had made him woolly-headed, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he wasn’t the only one in that small private room who kept secrets.

Or that the ones he sensed might be as dangerous as his own.

They’d been driving for what felt like forever, but that wasn’t the real problem. It seemed to Echo De Gris that her stepfather’s anxiety had increased with every advancing mile into Wyoming and now that they were on Open Sky Ranch land, it was almost suffocating.

This made no sense because he was the one who had insisted moving back here soon after Echo’s mother’s long illness had finally claimed her life. Echo had been surprised when, at the last minute, he’d asked her to come along on the trip—they had never really been close and she was in the middle of life-changing events of her own. But how could she deny him?