Authors: D'Ann Lindun
She
thought she’d moaned, but she realized it was not her when another soft whimper
came from under her. Shuffling sideways, Mallory managed to move off the lump.
Dianna,
trussed up in the same fashion as she, with her
mouth duct-taped shut, lay facing Mallory with wide, frightened eyes.
“You okay?” Mallory asked.
Dianna
nodded once.
“We’re going to get out of here,” Mallory told
her. She tried to sound brave, but she was shaking like a leaf. Alan and Shelby
had murdered at least two people. They had already said they were going to
throw her into Canyon Lake. They meant business. If she and Dianna didn’t find
a way out of here pretty darn fast they were going to be fish food.
~*~
Mike
skidded to a stop at the old courtyard.
No
one was in sight. He jumped out and
ran,
his heart and
pulse pumping. Someone had continued to dig where he’d started that morning. A
rusty metal box lay in the sand. Several pairs of footprints marked the sand.
They led to a set of vehicle tracks. Those tracks led straight into the desert.
He knew the old wagon road eventually ended up near Tortilla Flat, close to
Canyon Lake.
He
leaped back in the SUV, glad he’d brought the four-wheel drive, and ripped up
the road, praying he wasn’t too late. He tried to tell himself Brent was wrong,
that Shelby wouldn’t hurt anyone. But his gut told him different. The pieces
were beginning to fall into place and he couldn’t deny their stark evidence.
Shelby had Mallory. And she was a killer.
His
mouth went dry and he punched the gas pedal.
If he was too late . . .
Burning
around a turn, he almost slammed into the back of the Suburban. Stuck in deep
sand, right in the middle of the road, the big SUV looked like an abandoned
stagecoach. All the doors were wide open, but nobody seemed to be in it.
Mike
nearly fell in his haste to get out of the Durango. Forcing himself to slow up,
he approached the Suburban with caution. His heart pounded so loud he figured
they could hear it in Phoenix. Edging alongside the Suburban, he peered through
the tinted windows.
No one.
Again,
he looked to the sandy earth for directions.
~*~
“That’s far enough,” Alan ordered.
Mallory
stumbled to a stop, and Dianna fell against her. Her hands were still bound.
Alan had untied their feet, but left their hands securely tied. He’d ripped the
duct tape from Dianna’s mouth, leaving a bright red streak across her lips and
cheeks.
“Look at me,” Alan ordered.
Dianna
turned and fell to the ground.
Her
mind racing, Mallory faced him. This was the end. There wasn’t any way out.
So long, everyone.
She hadn’t expected to die in the desert
like a lizard or a road runner. Tears formed in her eyes. She’d just found
Mike. At least she had found out what love was all about before she died.
She
closed her eyes and focused on Mike’s face.
“Mike,” Dianna muttered hoarsely.
Mallory
opened her eyes to glare at Dianna. It was really past time she gave up her
crush.
But
Dianna was staring at a figure in the distance.
All
of them turned to look.
Mallory’s
heart sang.
Mike.
“Don’t come any closer or I’ll kill them
both,” Alan shouted and waved a small handgun.
Mike
kept walking toward them. “Take me, Alan. You don’t want to hurt the women.”
Shelby
snorted.
Mike
moved within
talking
distance and held up his hands.
“Give yourself up, Alan. You’re done. We figured it out. The sheriff is on the
way.”
“That fool couldn’t figure out a crossword
puzzle,” Shelby muttered.
“Maybe not, but I did,” Mike said. “The pieces
all fell into place this afternoon.”
“Is that right?” Shelby crossed her arms over
her chest. “Do tell.”
Mike
pinned her with a cold gaze. “I don’t know how, but you somehow found out about
Skeeter’s
map and decided to take it for yourself.
But you had to get rid of Skeeter, so you stole some of Brent’s insulin and
injected it under
Skeeter’s
toenails. Then, after he
died, you stuck
cholla
in his skin, thinking it would
cover up the marks. Older people sometimes contract diabetes.”
“You’re a
nurse,
you’d know those Cholla needles would be easy to cover up needle tracks.”
Mallory twisted her wrists. If she could get loose, she’d slap Shelby’s face
off.
Alan
smirked at them. “Yeah, and it would’ve worked too, but she—he pointed the gun
at Mallory—had to come along and mess things up.”
“Your plan was messed up before Mallory ever
came along,” Mike reminded them. “You were one step behind Wendell Wallace. He
was a CNA at Apache Park nursing home and he discovered the map old Gentleman
Jim Weeks had. When you found him digging in the desert, you thought he’d
beaten you to the treasure and you hit him over the head and killed him. The
thing was
,
he hadn’t found anything. He was way off.
Who knows why, but he was nowhere near the treasure.”
“You killed him for no reason,” Mallory said.
“All of this was for nothing. And you could have killed me, too, when you stuck
the cactus under the saddle and cut the cinch.”
“We didn’t do that,” Alan said. “That was
Dianna, trying to get rid of her rival for Mike’s affection. She thought if you
had an accident, you’d go home.”
Dianna
hung her head and didn’t speak.
“Shut up,” Shelby screamed. “Alan, let’s tie
them up and get out of here.”
“Where are you going to go?” Mike waved a
hand. “Mexico is too far and you don’t have water or supplies to get you there.
A chopper will spot you out here in about ten minutes flat. You’re caught.”
All the fight seemed to go out of Alan. His
shoulders slumped and the gun dropped from his fingertips. “There’s no
treasure. It was all for nothing.”
Shelby
dived for the gun and aimed it Mallory’s head.
“I want to know how you found out about my
dad’s map,” Mallory said. “You owe me that much.”
She
shrugged. “What the hell. I’m a nurse, and when the SRPL put us all out of
work, I went to Apache Park and applied for a job. I knew Gentleman Jim Weeks
from his days as the head wrangler out here at The Cholla, and I stopped in to
see him. He was fading fast and he let it slip that he’d given a treasure map
to Skeeter. I waited until Skeeter came in for some R and R. He made it too
easy because he had pneumonia. When he passed out, I injected him with the
insulin. Easy.”
Mallory
lunged at her with no thought of danger. “Why?” she cried.
Shelby
sneered. “Didn’t you hear me? We’re out of work. Mike’s losing his ranch.
Killing an old man nobody cared about was an easy way to fix it all.”
“You’re insane,” Mike shouted.
Someone
screamed.
The
gun went off.
Mallory
half expected to feel searing pain from the gunshot, but nothing. The bullet
had gone by her. She struggled to rise, and managed to flounder up on her knees
when she saw Mike. He lay a few feet from her, a dark red bloodstain seeping
from his shoulder.
Mallory
screamed, but the sound was drowned out by the sound of a police helicopter
approaching overhead.
Bodine
hung out the side, rifle
in hand, trained on Shelby.
Mallory
scrambled to Mike’s side. “I love you,” she cried.
He
grinned feebly. “I love you. Will you stay and take care of me?”
She
fell over on him. “Count on it.”
Epilogue
Mallory
looked at Mike again.
He
caught her worried glance and said, “Quit fussing. I’m fine. I’ll be back on my
feet in time for next season. Thanks to you, I have my life and my business
back.”
“I only told the truth,” she said.
“Yes, but it was your credentials that
convinced the judge to take off the injunction,” he said.
She
squeezed his hand. “What you and the other outfitters do doesn’t harm the
environment.”
He
was silent for a moment. “I’m so sorry for what Shelby and Alan did.”
She
nodded, unable to speak for a moment. “I know. They’ll be going to prison for a
very long time.”
“I just can’t believe my very good friends
would do something like that. And murder
Wendall
Wallace, too.” He shook his head. “Insane.”
Mallory
changed the subject. “I can’t believe my dad found so much gold.”
Mike
grinned at her. “The old fox.
Stowing it away in a bank the
whole time.”
In
spite of herself, Mallory giggled. “He left me enough so I can do whatever I
want, that’s for sure.”
“And
what do you want to do?” Mike reached for her hand. “Go back to teaching at
UNLV?”
She
shook her head. “No. I was thinking I might see if there’s an opening at The
Cholla.”
“What
position are
you interested in filling?” Mike began stroking her wrist.
Mallory
swallowed. “Um, I’m not sure.”
“I have an idea,” Mike said. “It would involve
a big commitment, though.”
“It would?” Mallory’s voice squeaked.
“Uh-huh.” He leaned close.
And
looked into her eyes.
“It would mean changing your name . . . if you
want to, of course.” His eyes darkened. “It would mean wearing a ring.”
Mallory
couldn’t find her voice. She stared at Mike with wide eyes. “
Wha
—what are you saying?”
He took her hand and held it gently. “Will you
marry me, Mallory?”
Happy
tears filled her eyes. “Yes. Oh, yes.”
“I love you, lady.” He smiled widely, then
tugged her close and covered her lips with his.
~The
End~
Bio:
Falling in love with romance novels the summer
before sixth grade, D’Ann Lindun never thought about writing one until many
years later when she took a how-to class at her local college. She was hooked!
She began writing and never looked back. Romance appeals to her because there's
just something so satisfying about writing a book guaranteed to have a happy
ending.
D’Ann’s
particular favorites usually feature
cowboys and the women who love them. This is probably because she draws
inspiration from the area where she lives, Western Colorado, her husband of
twenty-nine years and their daughter. Composites of their small farm, herd of
horses, five Australian shepherds, a Queensland heeler, two ducks and cats of
every shape and color often show up in her stories!
I love to hear from readers! Please contact me
at
http://dlindunauthor.blogspot.com/
http://www.facebook.com/DLindunAuthor
http://www.amazon.com/DAnn-Lindun/e/B008DKL9TU