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Running her tongue over the inside of her split lip, Jenna eyeballed him. “One thing we need to get straight from the get-go: I never and will never fabricate charges against anyone.” She pulled down her lip to display the injury and then scowled at him, but kept her voice low so only he could hear. “Yeah, he slapped me, but I don’t go down easy. Cowards like him don’t know how to cope with a woman who stands up to them.” She leaned forward and caught the change in his eyes. It was almost a challenge. “If I make sheriff, I’m going to stand up for anyone in town suffering abuse, men, women, or kids. From what I see, this is a culture that needs to change. Bullies don’t rule the world and when a person marries, they no longer become someone’s property. Those days are long gone.”
“Ouch.” Stone leaned back in his seat and smiled. “The lady has been hurt.” He sipped his coffee and peered at her for a beat. “I like a woman who fights back. It makes life so much more interesting.”
Nineteen
Two months later
Life ran as smooth as silk in Black Rock Falls. Jenna had slipped into her job without a problem. She’d held the first rally in the town hall for her election campaign for sheriff and the townsfolk loved her. The fact Mayor Rockford had introduced her as a highly trained detective had made a good impression and, with some time yet to prove her worth, she considered herself a good chance to win. Many people appreciated the way she’d pursued a conviction against Errol Dean. Although he’d been locked away in county jail and had completed a one-month sentence, the protection order for his wife was still in place and Jenna had arranged an apartment for Carol above the hardware store in town. The location was perfect and not only close to the sheriff’s department. But Deputy Walters lived on Maple, the road running parallel to Main, so if Dean caused a problem, Carol had law enforcement close by.
The community spirit in town impressed Jenna. It was so different to the indifference she’d witnessed in some big cities. If someone was down on their luck in Black Rock Falls, their neighbors would help out. During a recent storm, lightning caused a fire in a cattle rancher’s barn, and destroyed not only the building but also his winter feed stocks. As soon as the townsfolk discovered the poor man was in trouble, posters for a barn-raising appeared all over town. The people had gotten together, fixed his barn, and donated feed. Rowley had informed her this wasn’t unusual for the townsfolk and promised she’d get to see the community enthusiasm during the festivals that came thick and fast all year long.
Impressed by Jake Rowley’s eagerness, she’d spent hours working with him. She’d soon discovered her day’s work often included going deep into Stanton Forest, and only a few of the trails were negotiable by her vehicle. She’d never owned or cared for a horse and her only experience on horseback had been on a pony at a kid’s birthday party. In Black Rock Falls, knowing how to ride and ride well was essential. When she informed Rowley, she’d expected him to ridicule her, but on the contrary, he’d offered to teach her. They’d spent hours at his parents’ ranch, with her riding his mother’s gentle sorrel mare before venturing into the forest. She appreciated Rowley’s knowledge of the county, and when he’d insisted on taking her over a variety of terrains to make her proficient,
she’d jumped at the chance.
He was just about the nicest young man she’d met in a long time and had the quiet disposition and even temper she appreciated. Although, he called her “ma’am,” which made her feel like his grandma, but that was just being polite around these parts. The longer she mingled with the townsfolk, the more she understood their ways. After living in big cities all her life, the old-school ways were both refreshing and at the same time annoying. When she discussed alterations to the ranch house, for instance, she found some of the older folk went to great pains to explain things to her as if she’d just left kindergarten.
According to James Stone, the transfer of the house deeds would be through within the week. Jenna needed to clean the house so it was ready for the furniture to arrive and be there to open up for the contractors to start work. Once the house was secure, she’d move right in and supervise the alterations. She’d packed her things and stowed them in her cruiser, only keeping a few changes of clothes at the house. The moment she had the green light, she’d be moving out of the stuffy little rental and had already contacted the power company and purchased everything she needed to clean the ranch house. After dropping by to see Mr. Davis at the real estate office and explaining she needed to take measurements, he’d handed over the keys to the ranch.
Excited to be visiting her new home again, she made her way through town and out onto the highway. She had a wonderful feeling of freedom as she opened the gate and drove up the driveway. Being alone without Mr. Davis’s voice echoing around the empty house, she actually really looked at the property. It was better than she remembered. The previous owners had lovingly renovated the house and kept the old-world charm but added a modern kitchen and bathrooms. In the family room a large marble fireplace dominated a huge room and underfoot they’d polished the wooden floors to such a high shine they looked as if they’d coated them in honey. All the bedrooms had their own bathrooms with separate showers. It seemed they’d spared no expense. She couldn’t imagine working so hard on a house just to walk away, leaving all the memories of a growing family behind. As she cleaned the mantel, she could almost see the rows of framed photographs of the family. Maybe when their kids left for California, not being close had been too hard to bear. She had no photographs to place on the mantel, not that she would dare to add images of her parents for fear of the cartel finding her. One person recognizing them would discover she’d changed her identity. It wasn’t worth the risk, and when she’d left her life behind, she’d taken nothing from her past life, not even a single pair of earrings.
She pushed away all thoughts of her parents and looked ahead. She loved the town and her house, and she’d never imagined in her wildest dreams owning a ranch. It was surreal and she aimed to make it her sanctuary. After taking all the measurements she needed and making headway on cleaning half the house, she went outside to sit on the porch steps to take in the view. Weekends to herself were a luxury. She’d rarely had downtime in the DEA but here in this sleepy little town, she’d found time to go to the practice ranges with Rowley and just stroll around Main. Although over the last day or so, she’d had the nagging feeling someone was watching her. The fact that Errol Dean had been released from jail might have had her on alert, but he’d kept a low profile and she hadn’t seen him. Just to be certain he was obeying the protection order, she’d asked Walters and Rowley to drop by from time to time and make sure Carol was okay. Carol had gotten a job at the Reef and Beef in town and seemed to be coping well.
As she took in the view, a glint in the hillside caught her attention. While inspecting the property, she’d explored the hill on the border, noting the other side had a pastoral trail that led to the highway. In fact, the woodlands over the boundary had tracks leading to most of the other properties, and she assumed, back when the Mitcham family owned most of the land on this side of the highway, they’d used the trails to move cattle from one grazing area to the next. The glint came again and she focused on the area. She shifted to one side and the glint came again. Self-preservation slammed into her and, heart pounding, she dived into the house slamming the door behind her. As her ranch house was the last building on the road apart from a couple of old barns on the corner, no one should be on the Mitcham’s cursed land. Her stomach cramped. There could be only two explanations: She’d caught the glint from a rifle scope or someone was watching her through binoculars. Had Viktor found her?
Think, Jenna. She crawled into the mudroom and pressed her back against the wall. The cold from the stone slabs under her seeped through her clothes, but beads of sweat trickled down her back. How could they possibly know I’m here?
Not expecting any trouble, she’d come unarmed and stored her Glock in the glovebox of her vehicle outside. She’d left the sheriff department’s vehicle in the lot behind the office as it needed a serious update. It would be the first request she’d give the mayor if she made sheriff, but in the meantime her rental would have to do. Taking a few deep breaths, and keeping low, she headed for the kitchen. If someone was out in the hills with a rifle, then she’d lock up and, using the trees around the house for cover, would head for her truck. The woods along the driveway would give her protection to get onto the highway. Keeping her back to the wall, she edged into the kitchen and called Rowley. “Hey, it’s Jenna. Sorry to bother you on the weekend, but I’m out at my ranch and caught sight of a reflection in the hill opposite, maybe binoculars or a scope. It may be nothing, but I’m calling in case it escalates into something. There shouldn’t be anyone up there.”
“You sure it’s not the sun hitting a piece of glass or some foil maybe a bird dropped?” Rowley cleared his throat. “Like you say, no one goes on the Old Mitcham Ranch and everyone figures that land is cursed. You’d heard tell about the curse when you purchased the property, right, ma’am?”
Jenna pushed hair from her eyes and sighed. “Yeah, but curses don’t reflect sunlight.”
“That’s for sure, but if a bird was carrying foil in its beak, it might catch the sun.” Rowley sounded skeptical. “I’ve seen crows do that many a time.”
Thinking it through, Jenna shook her head. “Nope, not crows. It moved when I moved. It followed me. Someone is watching me.”
“Why would they do that?” Rowley’s voice lowered and Jenna could hear voices close by. “Who would know or care about you moving into the O’Reilly Ranch? Could it relate to the personal problem you left behind?”
Jenna eased out the back door and locked it, pushing the keys into her pocket. Having Rowley on the phone was better than being alone. “I’m not sure. I didn’t tell anyone I planned to come here.” She sighed. “Maybe I’m overreacting. I’m heading back to town as soon as I can get to my truck.”
“I’ll drive out and meet you on the highway. I’m just leaving the dojo.” She could hear Rowley’s boots on tile and then the sounds of traffic. “If someone is following you, for whatever reason, they won’t be expecting me to show.”
“Thanks, I’d appreciate it.” Jenna disconnected. She sneaked through the long grass behind the house and slipped into the trees, suddenly glad about the overgrown state of her yard.
From the trees she had a good view of the hillside and scanned the area, breaking it into grids. Nothing glinted in the sunshine. You’re acting like a scared rabbit. For goodness sake, get a grip, woman.
She headed back to her truck, slipped behind the wheel, and took a long look at her new home. She’d wanted isolation and privacy, but she’d only been here one morning and something had spooked her. It was her dream home but would it become a nightmare?
Twenty
Jenna took off at top speed, spinning her wheels as she backed around, sending a cloud of dust high into the air. She pointed the truck at the driveway and fishtailed onto the blacktop. The rental truck was a basic model and didn’t pull away as fast as she’d hoped, but it would be hard to shoot anyone moving at high speed. The grassy lowlands flew by in a sandy-colored tangle of dried grasses and bushes. Across the blacktop the shadows from the woodlands flickered like a silent movie. She glanced in the rearview mirror, but no one had followed her. She took the first long curve, blocking the view behind her, and kept up her speed until she went past the old barn and turned onto the highway. As she headed toward town, she had a sudden pang of regret and slowed down. She’d acted like a scared rabbit and run away, leaving her property open to anyone who ventured past. Maybe she should stop worrying about nothing and turn back and padlock the gate?
The next second, a white pickup came past her like she’d been standing still and cut right in front of her. Red taillights flashed as they made to stop. Jenna hit the brakes and the truck tires screamed in protest. The smell of burning rubber filled the cab as the back bounced and slid to one side. Spinning the wheel to gain control proved useless as the truck slid across the blacktop. In a bone-jarring jolt the front wheels dropped into the ditch alongside the road, throwing her forward with force. Airbags blocked her vision and the engine sighed and stalled. Batting the airbags away, she pressed the starter button and the engine shook and rattled but refused to start.
Looking all around but seeing no other vehicles on the road, she used the key to open the glovebox and pulled out her Glock. If that vehicle came back, she’d be ready. Not taking her eyes off the highway, she tried to recall details of the truck. It was a white pickup, no signage, and with the plate disguised with mud, it could be any one of the hundred or so she’d seen driven by locals, including herself. It seemed there must have been a special on white trucks in this town. She tried to start the engine a few more times without success and decided to keep watching the highway, hoping Rowley wouldn’t be too long. The first vehicle to come by was an old blue pickup. It slowed and then backed up and an old white-haired man opened his window to stare at her.
“Do you need any help, ma’am?”
