Fatal Burn (West Coast 2) - Page 144

With Travis.

She was glad for his strength, for his clear-headedness and though she realized it was a silly fantasy, she felt as if she and he were bound together, working toward the same cause, searching for the monster who held their child.

She slid into the cab, yanked the door closed, leaned her head against the backrest and closed her eyes. It had been a long day and an even longer night. She wanted nothing more than to sleep for a million hours, to chase away the demons, to block out the horrible images she’d seen, to start over.

Which was impossible.

Travis maneuvered his rig around the barricades at the end of the street. They rode in silence with the wheels skimming over the pavement and the engine rumbling. With practically no traffic at this time of night, the drive to her little ranch took less than twenty minutes.

Nate’s truck was missing.

Again.

In the middle of the night.

In the shop? She doubted it. Nate’s apartment looked dark, but then wouldn’t it be, if he was inside and asleep?

As Travis slowed his truck to a stop, Shannon wondered if Nate had taken a lover; a woman he hadn’t yet mentioned to Shannon. Why else the late hours? The long stretches of time when he was missing? It crossed her mind that he might be involved in crimes against her family, but he had no reason. No, she couldn’t lose faith in him, but she’d damned sure talk to him the next time she saw him, get to the bottom of it. What had been his last feeble excuses? He had been “in and out,” his truck had been “giving him fits,” he’d “tried to get

in touch” on the cell phone but couldn’t get through. And his voice mail box had been too full to leave a message with him.

Things aren’t always what they seem.

It wasn’t enough of an answer.

Not when murder and mayhem had taken over.

So what was it he was hiding? That thought bugged her. In all the time that he’d worked for her, he’d taken very little time off, but just before the first attack, he’d told her he’d be gone for a while, that he needed some time off. She’d said “No problem” and had agreed to take care of the horses for the week he’d be away.

Then he’d shown up here on the night she’d been attacked, before he was scheduled to return, and helped to save her. Afterward he was, as he’d said, “in and out,” though he never neglected the stock. He’d be gone at all hours of the day and night, but the animals were fed and watered, maybe not on their usual schedule, but taken care of nonetheless.

So what had he been doing?

Travis cut the engine and she reached for the door handle.

“I need to check on the animals,” she said, then tossed him a glance over her shoulder as she slid outside. “Want to help? I could use the company.”

“You got it.”

She stepped out of the cab. The night was warm, still holding on to summer, just the hint of a breeze offering relief, a partial moon visible through the canopy of branches overhead. The buildings were quiet and dark, the shed still a blackened skeleton and reminder of the fires that had taken the lives of those close to her.

She felt bone-weary but there was work to be done. For now, she looked past the shed and the tragedies. Travis walked with her as they found the horses dozing and woke every dog in the kennel by switching on the lights. But all seemed to be as it should.

“So where’s Santana?” Travis asked as she closed the door to the kennel and started for the house.

She glanced up at the darkened rooms over the garage. “He could be home, he mentioned he was having trouble with his truck, but…I don’t know, he’s been acting funny lately. Gone a lot.”

“Describe ‘funny.’”

“Distant. Secretive.” She paused at the door and frowned. “Nate and I have always done our own things. We don’t get into each other’s lives too much, probably because we’ve both been overscrutinized by the press and the police, or whatever. And he’s always taken care of the animals first, even during all of this, whatever it is.”

“But…” Travis urged.

“But something’s not right. Definitely not right.” She hazarded a glance at him. “Nothing seems to be these days.”

“I know.” They stood for a second as they reached the darkened porch. Shannon stared up at him, looked into eyes silvery blue with a bit of moon glow.

His gaze shifted to her mouth.

Tags: Lisa Jackson West Coast Mystery
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