Power of the Raven (7 page)

“I don’t foresee that. He’s no threat to me here with all the people around and Harvey on guard.”

“All right, then. Let’s get back to work and see if we can process everyone by closing.”

I
T WAS LATE AFTERNOON AND Lori was working at her window when she finally decided to take the next step on her own. If she confronted Harrington, put it on the line by telling him that she knew he was the one stalking her, maybe he’d stop playing these crazy games—or at least back off for a while.

Fifteen minutes later, Lori closed her window. As her break started, she found the telephone number for Harrington Designs in the phone book, reached for her desk phone, then stopped. Calling him from here was a bad idea. Harrington’s caller ID would show the origin and he might use it to get her into trouble. She didn’t want to give up her cell phone number, either.

Lori walked to the lobby. Mounted on the wall was one of the few landline public phones in the area.

She inserted two quarters and dialed the number, trying to figure out the best way to say what she needed.

“Harrington Designs, where custom-designed jewelry is our specialty,” he announced cheerfully. “This is Bud.”

“Harrington, if you don’t leave me alone, the next person you’re going to see at your door is a police detective,” she said. “I know it’s you following me around and I’m tired of your games. You’re not scaring me, you’re just pissing me off. So stop wasting your time and mine.”

“Um, you clearly have the wrong number. Who is this?”

“You know exactly who this is, Bud. You hounded me at my workplace, lied to the police and now you’re stalking me. There are laws against that, so be warned. If I even
think
I see you again, I’ll file stalking charges. I’m keeping a record of all this, and you’re going to spend some time in jail.”

“Ah, now I know who you are. Lori something, the woman from the Department of Motor Vehicles who just can’t stand rejection. Hey, lady, speaking of evidence, I’m recording this call now, and if you don’t stop bothering me, I’ll have
your
job. Don’t make me have to hire a lawyer and saddle you with a restraining order. Get a life.”

He hung up and Lori stood there, shaking, not out of fear but out of anger. Taking a deep breath, she put the phone back on the receiver. That’s when she saw the elderly man barely five feet away. He’d probably come in while she’d been talking to Harrington. He stood there, watching her.

“You okay, miss?” he asked.

Quickly putting on her game face, she nodded and smiled. “I’m fine, sir. A little personal issue, that’s all.”

“Okay, then,” the gray-haired gentleman said.

As he walked past her, Lori turned to look out into the parking lot. A pickup went by on the street outside hauling a horse trailer, and she noted the two cowboys in the cab, judging from their hats.

Ranchers and cowboys.... That made her think of Gene and she smiled. It was impossible not to be drawn to him. The way he’d protected her touched her heart. He was helping her of his own free will. Nothing was compelling him…except maybe the magic between them. Whenever they were together, excitement was thick in the air, the kind that had nothing to do with the danger trailing her.

Yet no matter how strong the sparks between them were, she knew he’d have to return to his ranch soon. After that…she’d probably never see him again.

Lori sighed. Trying to figure out the future was an exercise in futility. For now, she had an ally. Tomorrow would have to take care of itself.

I
T WAS FIVE
-
TWENTY BY THE time Lori left the building and walked to her car. She noticed Gene’s truck at the far end of the parking lot but made it a point not to look in that direction as he’d asked.

Fifteen minutes later she arrived home and drove up her driveway. By the time she parked, Gene was walking up to meet her. “I didn’t see the maroon van anywhere. Did you?” she asked.

“No, but he knows where you live. You really shouldn’t stay here tonight,” he said.

“I’m going to pull my car into the garage, then let’s go into the house and talk,” she said.

A few minutes later she led the way through an interior garage door into the kitchen. “I really love this house,” she said. After a beat she added, “Maybe ’cause it’s mine.”

“I hear you,” he said with a knowing smile. “Two Springs Ranch is far from perfect—there’s always a fence that needs fixing or an irrigation ditch waiting to be cleaned out, and the bunkhouse still needs a lot of work—but I love it there. I wake up every morning raring to get to work. That ranch is my present and my future.”

“Is there a future Mrs. Redhouse on the horizon?”

He laughed. “No, I’m nowhere near ready to settle down. I still have a lot of plans for my place, and until those get off the ground, I won’t have the time it takes to build a relationship with anyone.”

“So what brought you into town?”

“Paperwork—mostly legal issues that need straightening out. Our foster father passed away recently and there are things that still need to be done.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” Seeing him nod stiffly, then look away, Lori dropped the subject. It was clear to her that he didn’t want to talk further about it, and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

Instead, she told him about looking up Harrington’s business in the phone book, and her short conversation with him. “His denial was predictable,” she said with a shrug. “I really wish the police would just catch Bud in the act and throw his butt in jail. I hate the thought of some jerk running me out of my own home, even if it’s just temporary.”

“I could stay here with you tonight, but one of us would have to be awake at all times, and exhaustion might eventually turn us into easy targets,” he said. “All things considered, staying here is a particularly bad strategy right now. Your call might have motivated him to do something even more reckless.”

“All right,” Lori said. “Let me get a few things together. Then I’d like to tell my neighbor, Mrs. Hopgood, that I’m going to be away, and if she sees anyone hanging around, she should call the police.”

“Excellent idea.”

Chapter Seven

A half hour later they were driving across town in Gene’s truck, an overly large suitcase behind them on the rear seat of the extended cab.

“I’m glad you packed for several days,” he said.

“Actually, I bring this much along with me even on overnight trips. I’ve never been the type of savvy traveler who can make do with one of those itty-bitty travel carryalls. I can’t fit everything I need into them. It would cost a fortune for me to fly anywhere.”

“I gather from that you’re not big on camping trips, either?”

“I have nothing against camping out. I would just need several pack mules to help me carry everything I’d want to take along,” she said with a smile.

Gene burst out laughing.

Lori glanced around, trying to orient herself. “I never asked you before, but I’m assuming that your brother’s okay with my staying at his place?”

“Preston’s in Quantico right now taking a special training course, so I haven’t been able to get hold of him,” Gene said. “But don’t worry, he won’t care.” Actually, Preston would probably try to take a piece of his hide when he found out, but what was life without a little excitement?

Silence settled between them as they left the main thoroughfare and entered a residential neighborhood.

“I just can’t figure you out, Gene,” Lori said at last. “You barely know me. Why are you so willing to help me?”

“I can’t abide bullies and I’d like to equalize the odds against you.”

His words were calm, but there was an undercurrent of a much darker emotion. “You sound like someone who knows what it’s like to get picked on. Yet I can’t imagine anyone in their right mind trying to give a man your size a hard time,” she said, shifting to face him.

“I was a bit of a runt, one with health issues, until I turned sixteen and started to put on some muscle and weight,” he said, meeting her gaze for a second, then looking away.

In those steady black eyes Lori caught a glimpse of shadows, the kind that grew in pain and hid in secrets. “You’ve had a rough life, haven’t you?”

When he didn’t answer right away, she spoke again. “We’re going to be spending time together and I’d like to know more about you. We can’t be friends and remain strangers. Things just don’t work that way.”

“You’re right,” he said with a nod. After several long moments, he spoke, his words measured and slow. “My life wasn’t always hard, but things changed in a hurry after I turned ten. For a long time I was just another angry kid in the foster care system. I fought a lot—or maybe I should say I got beat up a lot,” he added with a grim smile. “Eventually, Dan and I ended up at the same foster home. He and I joined forces there and watched each other’s backs.”

“How long were you there?”

“About six months. Then
Hosteen
Silver fostered us and took us to Copper Canyon. Everything changed for us after that.” He paused, then added, “
Hosteen
Silver was a remarkable man.”

“Will you tell me more about him?” she asked.

“Someday,” he said, as he glanced into the rearview mirror.

“Are we being followed?” she asked, her stomach muscles tightening.

“No, it’s still clear back there, but I better stay alert for trouble now. I have to make sure no one follows us to Preston’s place.”

He took a sharp right, then a left, always searching, but no threat appeared. Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at an upscale apartment complex. “They’re all duplexes or townhomes?” she asked.

“Mostly. Preston pays a small fortune in rent, but he’s not interested in buying a house, no matter how much business sense it makes. He doesn’t like attachments of any kind. His apartment only has the basics.” He paused, then grinned. “On the plus side, there’s always plenty of beer in the fridge and he’s got a real comfortable couch in front of a huge flat-screen TV. That’s all my brother needs to be happy.”

“No girlfriends?” she asked. “The few cops I’ve known over the years were very outgoing people with lots of friends.”

“Preston’s different,” he said. “He’s not big on talking, particularly about himself, so for all I know he’s got a harem. I doubt it, though. He lives for his job.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a life.”

He shrugged. “It suits him. Preston values order and harmony. He sees his job as restoring the balance. One Navajo doesn’t speak for another, but I think he was made for police work.”

As they walked up to the door, she noticed the well-maintained landscaping and the individual parking slots that matched the apartment numbers. She’d never lived in a fancy place like this one. It was definitely a huge step up from her neighborhood.

As Gene flicked on the light switch and they went inside, she noticed that the place lacked a homey feel. The living room furnishings were just as Gene had described, a comfortable couch and a TV. Across the room, an overly long honey-brown baseball bat was propped on a special stand.

Following her gaze Gene laughed. “It looks like a war club, doesn’t it? That’s my brother’s baby—a 1920 Marathon. You should have seen him when he won the auction on eBay. You would have thought he’d scored the Hope Diamond.”

“He’s a baseball fan?”

“Not just a fan, a
rabid
fan,” Gene said. “He sometimes flies to Phoenix to catch a ’Backs game.”

She followed Gene into the dining area next to the kitchen. A breakfast bar served as a divider between the two spaces.

Gene opened the fridge and showed her what was inside. “If you get hungry, there are lots of cold cuts in here, some apples in the bottom drawer and a six-pack of cold beer.”

“Thanks.” She looked around again. “You mentioned sleeping on the couch, but I think you’re taller than it is long.”

“Yeah, but it folds out into a twin-size bed, or so I’ve been told. I’ve never tried it.”

“And the bedrooms?”

“There are two down the hall. The one on the left is Preston’s office. His bedroom’s on the right and the bed has a memory foam mattress you’re going to love. After spending a few nights on it, I’ve decided to get one for myself.”

He helped carry her suitcase to Preston’s bedroom and set it at the foot of the bed. “When you need to move it to the floor let me know. I’ll get it out of your way.”

“I really appreciate what you’re doing,” she said. “I know I’ve turned your life, and whatever plans you had for your time in Hartley, upside down.”

“You’ve helped me, too,” he said.

She looked at him in surprise. “How? By helping you test your truck’s braking system?”

He laughed, then shook his head. “I’ve had a tough time of it lately. Coping with all the details surrounding a loved one’s death can be overwhelming. You’ve been a welcome, and beautiful, distraction.”

As Lori looked into his dark eyes her heart began beating overtime. For those precious seconds, time stood still. She was aware of the warmth of his body and the spark of desire in his steady gaze.

“You’re a mass of contradictions in one lovely package, Lori Baker,” he whispered, tilting her chin upward and lowering his mouth to hers.

She felt the warmth of his breath on her lips and, with a sigh, closed her eyes. Suddenly the theme from
Dragnet
began to play loudly between them.

She jumped back. “What the—”

“It’s my brother Preston’s ring tone. That son of a gun sure has bad timing,” he growled. He reached for his cell, but dropped it onto the carpet as he tried to press the send button.

Gene bent down, retrieved it and growled a one-word response. “What?”

His only answer was a dial tone.

Gene looked at Lori. “He hung up, would you believe it? He shows remarkable patience when it comes to police work, but with family, forget it.” He chuckled and shook his head.

The mood broken, she went to open her suitcase. Though she always carried her laptop to work in her tote, for now, it would remain safely stored between folds in her clothing. “I’ve got to be at the office by seven forty-five tomorrow. Will you be able to give me a ride there? If it’s too early for you, I can call a cab.”