Broken Wings

Sandra Edwards

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2010 Sandra Edwards

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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction and all characters exist solely in the author's imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any references to places, events or locales are used in a fictitious manner.

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BROKEN WINGS

Book One in the Soul Searchers Series

By

Sandra Edwards

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Dear Reader,

The characters in Broken Wings have lived inside my head for many years, but it wasn’t until I moved to northern Nevada that I began to see hope for their fruition. Had it not been for my husband Bill and all those time-consuming trips up into the hills surrounding the areas of Virginia City, Carson City and Lake Tahoe, Nevada—those characters might never have seen the light of day. Because of those excursions, I was inspired to bring to life the story that’d been stewing in my brain since college.

In Nevada I was able to wrap the seeds of my story around the state’s rich history and the Washoe Indians. I was determined to stay as true to the Washoe culture, as much as I possibly could, and in doing so I was able to mold and create an even more compelling storyline. Until finally, the endearing love story of Maggie and Tajan (pronounced Tay-hawn) found its way from my head (and my heart) and onto the pages of this book.

I do hope you’ll enjoy the tale I’ve created in Broken Wings. If you’re so inclined, I’d love to hear your thoughts on it. Please feel free to contact me sandra1@sandrawrites.com.

Happy reading!

Sandra Edwards

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Foreword

It’s a well-known fact that in 1859 two men discovered gold at the head of Six Mile Canyon in the vicinity of Virginia City, Nevada. Today, we know this great historical find as the Comstock Lode. It’s interesting how the strike ended up with that name since neither of the miners bore the name Comstock.

As the story goes, a man named Henry Comstock stumbled upon the miners and said, “This land belongs to me.”

History paints Mr. Comstock as a colorful character who had a knack for twisting the truth for his convenience. Sure, he’d owned the land at one time, but had long since sold it. And some say, many times over. Nevertheless, the two miners believed Henry, so much so in fact, that they named the strike after him and cut him in on the proceeds.

As it turned out, the Comstock’s gold was hard mining, mostly because it had this sticky gooey stuff all over it. Even so, it didn’t take assayers long to confirm the gold was wrapped in silver.

During the 1860s, over three hundred million dollars in gold and silver was quarried out of Virginia City. It only stands to reason that there must have been some thievery going on. There are many tales about robberies and roadside ambushes during Virginia City’s heyday.

This story is one of them. A story about a treasure that was stolen and buried somewhere in northern Nevada where it has remained hidden for more than one hundred years.

The gang of thieves was comprised of three sisters from California: Maggie, Mary and Molly Fuller. Maggie, the eldest, had strong ties to the Washoe Indians.

Over the years, grand stories have taken shape about her. One of the most intriguing is that Maggie would return one day to reclaim the treasure. Believers have argued that she’ll retrieve it and turn it over to the tribe as a means of restitution for all their ancestors had suffered as a direct result of the Americanization of the West.

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PART ONE

THE CON

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CHAPTER 1

Las Vegas, Nevada

Present Day

Turner Atkins was up to no-good. The stars had finally aligned for him and now all he had to do was grab them.

He’d happened upon the perfect scam years ago, but until recently he’d thought it was forever out of his reach. It mattered little that the scheme was brilliant, not to mention illegal; Turner needed help pulling it off. And not just anybody’s help. That’s where Rio Laraquette came into the picture.

He’d heard all about this little hotshot. She’d been running cons around town the last few weeks—cons that he’d played as a child. She’d gotten quite the rep from what he was hearing. And Turner had every intention of shutting her down—until he got a good look at her. There was something oddly familiar about her. It’d taken a little time to figure it out, but once he had he decided to give this tough little cookie a reprieve.

He’d summoned her to the back office of one of his many warehouses. She was a looker. A pretty redhead. But she was too feisty to suit Turner. Inside of a week, he’d probably want to kill her more than he’d want to screw her.

She was sitting across from him in one of the two chairs in front of his desk. She had her arm draped over the back of the empty chair. Looking like she owned the place, she gave him a blank stare. If she was feeling any doubt or fear, he couldn’t see it. That surprised Turner since most people were naturally afraid of him. With good reason.

He hadn’t gotten his ruthless reputation by being a pushover. He’d risen to power early in his career and quickly gained a name for being the most brutal gangster Vegas had seen in over fifty years.

“So…” Rio’s voice dragged Turner back to the here and now. “What exactly is it that you want with me?” she asked, cool as a cucumber.

He found her unruffled demeanor amusing. “I have a job for you,” he said. “One that’s going to pay you a whole lot more than those two-bit con jobs you got going on all over town.”

“I’m listening.” She gave him a little waving gesture with the one hand that was hanging off the back of the empty chair beside her. Anybody but Turner would have missed the necessity in her tone. She wanted to get straight to it and she didn’t like waiting.

Tough. She’d have to know the history to get the job. “When I was a little kid we used to visit my grandmother a lot. I can remember hearing stories about buried treasures in the hills between Carson and Virginia City.”

Oh, those glorious stories. When Turner was a kid, he loved listening to his grandmother spin her tales. She made it sound so fascinating. After a lazy afternoon of listening to her weave her yarns of mystery, robbery and romance…Turner would spend the next few days with his head in the clouds, dreaming about growing up and becoming a treasure hunter.

“And your family history has what to do with anything?” Rio asked.

Turner ignored her snarky attitude. He had to. Without her this thing would never work. “Ever since the first time I heard her tell one of her stories,” he said as if he hadn’t heard her rant, “my whole life…all I ever wanted was to find me one of them treasures.” He paused, as if deep in thought. “I never put much stock in actually finding one, though. Not until a few years ago when I met this woman named Audrey Tajan. She told me this fascinating story about an Indian warrior called Tajan and a beautiful white woman named Maggie Fuller. They were her great-great grandparents,” he said. “It seems that Audrey’s great-great grandma and her sisters had a keenness for robbing banks,” he announced with pride. “During the height of Virginia City’s glory, they went up there and stole a bunch of gold and silver.”

Rio fidgeted in her seat. Frustration tended to do that to her. It bothered her that she had worked so hard and for so long, trying to create the best opportunity to build a connection with Turner Atkins. And now that she’d finally done that, hearing folklore tales was what she was left with.

Turner seemed oblivious to her impatience. “They buried it up there somewhere,” he continued on as if she shared his enthusiasm for the story. “But they never got the chance to go back and get it.”

Well now, Rio thought, we’re finally getting down to the heart of the matter. Granted, this wasn’t exactly what she had in mind, but she’d take what she could to get on his good side.

Rio Laraquette, treasure hunter extraordinaire. She had to admit, it did have a certain kind of charm about it, although she’d never let Turner know. She had to let him keep thinking she was the dumb redhead he’d pegged her for. “I suppose there’s a point hidden in your story somewhere?”

Turner nodded. “There’s a point.”

“Mind sharing?”

He had to wonder how she’d ever managed to pull off a single con. But it was much too late to start having doubts about her now. Rio was irreplaceable. And since that was the case, it was time to spell it out clearly and see how far this little firecracker was willing to go for a buck. “My point,” he said, “is that Audrey told me her brother has half a map. It’s supposed to lead to the sisters’ treasure.”

“Okay,” she said. “So what do you want from me?”

“I want you to go up to Carson City and tell those Indians that you’re Audrey Tajan’s daughter.” He cleared his throat. “And then...I want you to talk them into going out and finding that treasure.”

“You’re kidding, right?” She laughed at the ridiculousness of his scheme. Hadn’t he noticed her skin was whiter than white? And she was a redhead. Who was going to believe she had Native American blood running through her veins? “What about Audrey?” she reminded him. “She can put that notion to rest.”

Turner shook his head. “Audrey’s not going to tell them anything.”

“And you know this…because?” Rio asked.

“She’s dead,” he said in a cavalier tone.

“So let me get this straight. You want me to get them to go out and look for a treasure.” She brought her arms around in front of her and clamped her hands together in her lap. “With half a map?”

Turner opened his desk drawer and pulled out a faded and worn document. “This is the other half of the map.” He pushed it across the desk.

Rio studied it. Could this thing be real? She looked back at Turner. “So what do you need me for?” She laid the map back down on the desk. “Why don’t you go to them and say…Hey, I’ve got the other half of the map. Let’s go find the treasure?”

Turner’s expression turned dark. “Because I don’t want to share it.”

It was like someone had turned on the lights and Rio realized it was Christmas morning. “You’re going steal it!” Now this was more like it.

“With your help.”

“And I’m helping how?” she said, playing up her dumb persona.

“Okay, listen carefully this time.” His exasperation was beginning to shine through. “You’re going up to Carson City and find Audrey’s brother, William Tajan. You’re going to tell him you’re Audrey’s daughter. Then, you’re going to get those Indians to go out and dig up that treasure.”

“Oh, sure...” She laughed. “I’m going to waltz right on up there with my redheaded, white ass…and they’re going to believe that my mother was an Indian.”

“They do have white blood in them, you know.”

“Oh, yeah.” Rio snorted. She hadn’t fallen of the turnip truck yesterday. “And that was what...like about a gazillion years ago?”

Turner returned to his desk drawer. “Oh, they’re going to believe it all right.” He pulled out an old photograph and handed it across the desk.

She took the picture, fully intending to glance at it and hand it back. But that was before she actually got a look at it. Something about the old image intrigued her. It was a snapshot of three women, and even though it was black and white, she could tell two of them had light colored hair and the other’s was dark.

“That’s a photograph of Maggie Fuller and her sisters Mary and Molly. It was taken up in Virginia City in 1863.” He paused for effect. “That picture belonged to Audrey.” Turner waited for Rio to look at him, but she never did. “I take it you do see the resemblance between yourself and at least two of the women in the shot?” He pointed, singling out the girl in the middle. “Especially her. She’s Maggie Fuller.”

Rio couldn’t argue that one. Not realistically. She had to admit she and this woman Maggie Fuller looked an awful lot alike. The whole thing was a bit eerie. She felt it as she studied the photograph, the weird sensations riveting through her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“I’ll give you Audrey’s personal things. Including that photo and my half of the map,” he said. “After you locate the position of the treasure, call me and I’ll handle the rest.”

“Where’d you get the other half of the map?” she asked, her nosiness kicking in.

Turner hesitated about a millisecond before saying, “My grandmother gave it to me.”

“Your grandmother...?” Rio had a hard time believing it. Turner was too fond of telling stories and he’d let this one go way too easily.

“One of Maggie’s sisters was my great-great grandmother.”

“Really?” It was an intriguing idea, but Rio was skeptical. “Which one?” She tossed the photograph back across the desk.

He scooped up the picture and studied it with a quick scan before pointing to the other light-haired sister. “That one. She was my grandmother’s grandmother.”

“Which one was she? Mary or Molly?” Now it had become a game for Rio. She wanted to see how far he could take it since she figured he was making it up as he went along. Oh, she could guess there was some truth to the story, at least about the three sisters. But Rio doubted that any of them was Turner’s great-great grandmother.

Turner mumbled and groaned before he identified her as Molly. He was getting antsy. And the last thing she wanted to do was rock the boat.

“So let’s get to the part about all the money I’m supposed to get,” she said, tremendously poised as she changed the subject.

He tapped a pencil on the desk. “I’m going to pay you…one hundred thousand dollars.”

Rio threw her head back and laughed. “You’re kidding.” She settled her eyes on him again. “Right?”

She’d discarded his offer quicker than a blink of the eye. Not only that, she’d mocked him. He wasn’t sure if that pissed him off more than it impressed him.

Finally, she’d gone and done something that induced him to believe that maybe, maybe, he’d underestimated her. He hoped so. He’d invested too much time, effort, and money to give up now.

Turner had been carrying this dream around for twenty years. Damn near ever since he’d run across Audrey Tajan. Now theirs had been a different kind of relationship. He’d actually liked her. Well, about as much as he could ever like any woman. Turner had never been interested in marriage or family. Apparently neither was Audrey. He’d known exactly where he stood with her. And she’d made it quite clear what was expected of him.

As long as he kept her entertained and bought her a pretty trinket every now and then, she was happy. Audrey didn’t get jealous over other women. In fact she’d told him, more than once, she liked it that he wasn’t under foot all the time.

Then a couple of years ago Audrey’s health started to fail. When the doctors said she had ovarian cancer, Turner was a true and dedicated friend who willingly paid her medical bills.

But then again, maybe it had a little something to do with the fact that she’d told him her brother had half a map that led to a treasure. She’d gotten drunk one night, many years before her sickness, and told Turner about her family’s history.

Her revelation started with the story of Maggie and Tajan and ended with her own expulsion from the family. She left home at the age of sixteen and she hadn’t been back since.

And she had these family heirlooms; items that had belonged to her ancestors, Maggie and Tajan. Turner wanted those pieces when she died. And he’d played the devoted friend and benefactor, all because her time was limited.

And now, if luck was on his side—and Turner believed it was—Rio was going to help him find the treasure at the end of the map.

“You expect me to go up there and con those people?” Rio didn’t sound committed. “So you can steal the treasure right out from under them…and I’m only supposed to get a hundred grand out of it?”

“Okay.” Turner grinned, secretly impressed. “What’s it going to take?”

“Well…” The word lingered on the air. “I need at least half a mill,” she said. “Hundred grand up front. And I’ll be needing some expense money, too.”

“All right.” Turner’s nod was self-effacing. “One hundred thousand now. The rest when I recover the treasure.” He studied her closely. “And five thousand for expenses.”

“Up front?” she asked.

“Up front.”

“Agreed.” She stood and offered her hand across the desk.

They shook on the deal. “If you pull this off…I won’t ever forget it.”

“Oh, I can pretty much guarantee,” she said, “when this is over...you will never forget me.”

* * *

Turner sat smugly with his feet propped on the desk. He was feeling pretty good about his chances of finally finding this treasure that was potentially worth millions.

His right-hand man Timmons wasn’t nearly as confident. As Turner’s flunky, Timmons was there to do his bidding. And typically that’s what he did. In all his years of employ with Turner, Timmons had never, not once, thrown an objection his way. And why should he? Turner paid him—and paid him well—to do what he was told.

Even so, here he was pacing the length of Turner’s desk, and quite frankly it was a little annoying.

“What can go wrong?” Turner said without fear.

Timmons stopped long enough to ask, “How do you know you can trust her?” And then he went back to pacing.

“I had her checked out.” Shaking his head, Turner gave a dismissive wave. “She’s nothing but a two-bit con artist.” He clamped his hands together behind his head. “And she’s not ambitious enough to steal the treasure away from me.” Turner’s carefree attitude confirmed his belief in what he was saying.

Timmons stopped again and faced Turner. “I don’t know, Boss…I got a bad feeling about this one.”

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CHAPTER 2

Rio Laraquette was either the smartest person in Vegas, or she was the dumbest. The jury was still out. It depended on whether or not there was an actual treasure at the end of Atkins’s map. There was only one way to find out.

It didn’t take her long to pack up and leave town, heading north in her 1969 red Corvette. She’d thought about calling her friend Michelle before she left, but it was a bad idea. Michelle, who’d picked up the nickname Digger in junior high because she knew things, wouldn’t let it go once she figured out what Rio was up to. And she’d figure it out—they didn’t call her Digger for nothing.

The trip to Carson City was a good day’s drive, and by the time she arrived the sun had begun its descent behind the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

She scored a room at one of the motels on the south end of town. After hauling her luggage inside, she got on her laptop and sent an e-mail.

Hey Uncle Gabe...I’m in Carson City. Never fear, things are in order. Paradise is on track and closer than you think. I just need to get my hands on the little birdie...Your loving niece, Rio.

She closed the laptop and set it aside. Fleeting thoughts of food, specifically the In-n-Out she’d seen on the way in, rumbled down to her stomach.

Maybe after a quick shower she’d drop in on the burger joint and then drive by the Tajan’s house. Rio knew there were two William Tajans in Carson City. William Sr. and his wife Carole; and William Jr. A background check had confirmed her theory that they were father and son.

Her mind wandered off to the family. What did Carole Tajan think of her son? Rio thought it probable that Carole loved her son with all her heart.

A mother’s love was something Rio had never experienced. She’d never known what that felt like, but she’d dreamed about it often enough. Her desire for it made fabricating this fantastic childhood as Audrey Tajan’s daughter an easy task. All she had to do was pretend Audrey was everything her own mother had never been. Rio had plenty of practice at that.

In the bathroom, she stripped and stepped into the shower. Hot water streamed down over her and memories that she’d just as soon forget flooded her mind.

Rio didn’t like thinking about her childhood, but as of yet she hadn’t figured out how to prevent it. And she’d give just about anything to stop those few select memories from sneaking back in.

This wasn’t the first time she’d made up a mother—complete with wonderful memories of their life together. The process was like a forbidden drug she used to escape reality whenever she could. Until now, it’d been a forbidden taboo. But this time she had an excuse. It was part of the job.

Thoughts of her mother—well, the only one she’d ever known—crept into her mind. She used her newly created faux mother to push the bittersweet memory aside. It didn’t work.

Rio couldn’t have been more than four or five in her fleeting recollection of being in an elevator with her parents. She remembered tugging at her father’s jacket with tears in her eyes. She knew she was frightened but she couldn’t remember why. To this day she wasn’t sure if she’d been afraid of the elevator or something else.

Her father had told her she’d never been comfortable in elevators after that, and even now she wasn’t fond of them. But nevertheless, on that particular day of Rio’s childhood her father had seen her fear and scooped her into his arms.

“It’s all right, sweetheart,” he’d said, brushing her tears aside. “You’re safe with Daddy. You’ll always be safe with Daddy.”

Her mother’s voice shrilled into her thoughts. “Really, James...you always pamper that child!”

“Abby…” He defended his actions and Rio, shielding her with his arms. “She’s afraid.”

“Well…it’s high time she learns this world is not a pretty place.”

“Abby, she’s not even five years old.” Something in her father’s voice that day, something in the way he’d shielded her, had stayed with Rio.

She struggled to shake the memory. Her tears mingled with the shower spray.

How could a mother be so cruel? When Rio was little, she used to think there was something wrong with her. Something she’d done or said to make her mother despise her so. But how does a five year old warrant such malicious behavior?

Her mother’s constant refusal to offer Rio love had haunted her—even now, long after the woman had abandoned her.

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CHAPTER 3

Rio popped a French fry into her mouth and checked the numbers on the houses as she cruised the residential street. 346. Great, 343 should be coming up soon.

She pulled up along the fence lining the yard and rolled to a stop near the gate. The yard was modest but well-kept. There wasn’t an over-abundance of trees or flowers but what was there was well-groomed and tasteful. There was nothing spectacular about the unpretentious house, but still, she found it warm and appealing.

After a moment’s pause, she opened the car door and stepped out. Throwing her purse over her shoulder, she headed through the gate and followed the tattered path up to the porch. She paused at the door and drew a deep breath while fiddling with the strap hanging over her shoulder; consciously aware that the bag contained Audrey Tajan’s personal belongings.

She exhaled in a long, slow sigh and summoned the the appointed persona. Once fully-immersed in her role, she tapped on the door.

Within seconds a woman of Native American descent peered through the screen at Rio and smiled pleasantly. “May I help you?”

“Hello…my name is Rio Laraquette. I’m looking for William Tajan.”

“Which one?” she asked.

At first thought, Carole Tajan figured this was another of her son’s spurned lovers who’d undoubtedly tracked him down here. But as she looked at her through the screen door there was something oddly familiar about this one.

The girl cleared her throat. “The one who has a sister named Audrey.”

“And you are?” Carole was curious now. And for the moment she forgot about the sense of familiarity.

“I’m Audrey’s daughter.”

Carole opened the screen door and gestured her inside. “My name is Carole Tajan.” She paused long enough to close the door. “Audrey is my husband’s sister. Where is she?”

“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” she said. “Audrey died six months ago.”

The woman raced to the other side of the room and fumbled with the telephone, leaving Rio standing by the door.

While her host made a phone call—probably to her husband—Rio eyed her surroundings. The pale walls of the small room didn’t feel nearly as closed in as some might have thought. It was adequately furnished with a couch, coffee table and a Lazy-Boy on one side of the room, and a modest entertainment center with a small telephone table on the other. There were hand-woven tapestries and a large dream-catcher on the wall behind the couch. Rio was intrigued by their beauty.

“You’d better get home right away,” Carole’s voice interrupted Rio’s thoughts. “I’m fine,” she reassured the party on the other end of the line. “We have a visitor that you should probably see.” After another brief interlude, Carole hung up the phone and looked at Rio. “My husband...your uncle...will be here shortly.” She gestured to the couch. “Won’t you sit down?”

“Thank you.” Rio nodded and moved toward the couch.

“Can I get you something while we wait?”

“A glass of water would be nice.”

At that moment Carole made the connection between Rio and the strange familiarity she’d felt when she first saw her.

Maggie Fuller. Rio looked like Maggie Fuller.

* * *

Bill Tajan felt a sense of urgency as he hopped out of his truck and headed toward the house. Well into his fifties, he was still in good shape and had no trouble getting across that yard in a hurry. His curiosity had provided ample motivation. He hadn’t a clue what this was all about, but his wife wouldn’t call him home for just any old visitor.

Bill Tajan entered his house through the front door. He and Rio eyed each other.

Considering that she was a walking, talking replica of a woman who had all but been promoted to sainthood by her descendants—had it been within the scope of their religion—Bill somehow managed to keep his cool. Of course, his heart was about to bust out of his chest. He couldn’t take his eyes off the girl as he crossed the room to his wife’s side.

“This is Rio,” Carole said. “She says she’s Audrey’s daughter.”

About a hundred different questions fluttered through his mind. But he couldn’t utter a single word. All he could do was stare at the stranger in his living room.

“She also has news of Audrey,” Carole said with a delicate reserve.

“Where is my sister?” Bill asked, still staring at her.

“Hm…” Rio hesitated and looked away. “She died.” She sucked in a breath and her gaze traveled back to meet his. “Right before Christmas. She had cancer.” Tears pooled around her eyes.

Bill’s mind emptied and his senses numbed. His only sibling was dead. Everything in him, everything he’d been taught about being a man told him he had to remain in control. His teachings failed him. His legs deteriorated under him like they were made of mashed potatoes. Bill dropped to the couch, burying his face in his hands.

Carole was at her husband’s side and had a comforting arm draped around him before Rio had a chance to blink.

She sat down in a chair across from them and made it a point not to look at them directly. Rio could only surmise that it must be difficult to hear about a sibling’s death. In that respect she sympathized with Bill Tajan. No matter why she was there, the man had lost his sister.

It took him a few moments, but he pulled himself together and faced Rio. “I haven’t seen Audrey since we were kids,” he said, over a shaky voice. “Where has she been all this time?”

“Vegas.”

“She never said a word.” The news had left him stunned and grief-stricken. “She never called. She never wrote. Once she left, we never heard from her again.”

An inward sigh washed over Rio. She started to feel better about her ability to pull this thing off. Sure, Turner had told her the story that had apparently been relayed to him by Audrey, but up until now Rio had no idea of the chances of its validity.

Finally, the story was starting to ring true about how there had been a falling out between Audrey and her parents when she was sixteen. One that had caused a permanent rift in the family.

There had been a boy in town that Audrey had wanted to date, against her father’s wishes. Once denied access to the object of her affections, Audrey started sneaking around, meeting him on the sly. When her parents found out—things got bad, and then things got worse. Before anyone knew it, Audrey and the boy were gone. No one ever saw or heard from her again.

Luckily for Rio, Bill had pretty much confirmed the story’s legitimacy.

But he’d been staring at her ever since he’d walked in the door; probably trying to figure out how he’d ended up with a white niece.

What if he didn’t believe her?

Well, if she had to she could always say she was adopted.

“Excuse me, sir.” It was time to realize her fears or defeat them. “But why do you keep staring at me?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I really don’t mean to offend you.” He stood and gave her a gesturing wave to follow him.

She and Carole followed Bill into a small dining room housing an eight-chair table and a matching hutch. Either they had a bunch of kids or they enjoyed quaint dinner parties with their friends.

Two paintings hanging on the far wall grabbed her attention. The first was of a warrior. There was no amusement painted into his face. If anything, he looked annoyed. Even so, he was handsome and his eyes captivated Rio. She wasn’t normally into guys with long hair, but like her father always said, “there’s a first time for everything.” —Too bad the guy was dead.

Rio amused herself with a quiet chuckle and let her eyes journey to the other portrait. It was of a young white woman dressed in Indian garb.

Rio stared at her—fiery copper hair and piercing jade-green eyes—if she didn’t know better she’d swear it was a painting of herself.

What the hell! Rio’s head started shaking and she didn’t try to stop it as she looked back at Bill. “Who are they?” she asked, pointing toward the pictures on the wall.

“They are my great-great grandparents.” He gestured toward the warrior. “His name was Tajan.” He passed a gesturing wave at the other painting. “And her name was Maggie Fuller.”

Rio glanced back at her look-alike. Now that she’d gotten over the initial shock of their similarities, it hit her—“She’s the woman in the picture.” She looked at the Tajans. “My mother had a picture of her with two other women. I never knew about the picture until she died and I went through her things. She never talked about her family.”

“May I see the photograph?” Bill asked.

“Sure.” Rio dug into her shoulder bag and came out with a folded manila envelope. She fished around inside and came out with a small picture, offering it to him. “Here.”

Bill and Carole studied the photograph together.

Rio took a black jewelry case out of her bag. “She had this too. I’ve always wondered where she got it. Do you know?”

With careful precision he slipped the case from her hands and eased the lid up. Seeing the intricate turquoise necklace, he bit into the gasp as it escaped. He hadn’t laid eyes on it since Audrey took off, more than thirty years ago. “This necklace belonged to Maggie.” His eyes never left the piece of jewelry. “It was a gift from Tajan.”

“You can have it.” Rio shrugged. “If you want.”

Bill—eyes still glued to the necklace—hesitated a bit before closing the case. And then, as if forcing himself, he handed it back to Rio. “No.” He shook his head. “It was given to your mother. Now it’s yours.”

She made no move to take the jewelry case, and he forced it back into her hands.

The sound of the front door squeaking open interrupted their duel of determined wills. The Tajans headed for the living room. Rio followed.

A young man about Rio’s age, and just as white, was standing at the door. “Killer car in the driveway,” he said to no one in particular. “Who’s is it?”

“I would say that it belongs to your cousin,” Bill said. “Billy...this is Rio. She’s Audrey’s daughter.” He looked at Rio. “This is our son…Billy Tajan.”

Normally, his tall frame and athletic build would have caught Rio’s attention right away. But the spark wasn’t there that she usually felt upon meeting such a handsome man. The only thing about him that ran through her mind was how odd it seemed that his skin was so white considering the darker complexion of his parents.

Still, Rio didn’t want to be rude. She smiled and extended her hand out. “Hello, I’m Rio Laraquette. It’s nice to meet you.”

Short brown hair complimented hazel eyes that sparkled as he studied her curiously. “And I thought I was the only one,” he said, and shook her hand.

“The only one?” Rio asked.

“Indian blood. Pale skin.” There was a bite in his tone, but she couldn’t tell if it was directed at her or their white skin.

Maybe it was her likeness to his ancestor. Then again, perhaps he was on to her.

~~~~

CHAPTER 4

With Rio gone, the Tajans were left to make some sense out of what had happened. Bill needed to believe it was true. Carole wanted to accept it as the truth for Bill’s sake. But Billy, he needed more proof.

He’d like it to be so. If it was, it meant there was another Tajan out there with pale skin, and he was no longer alone.

“Do you believe her?” he asked his father with a touch of skepticism and a bit of hope.

“The resemblance. The photograph. The necklace…which she left here.” Bill pointed to the jewelry case on the coffee table. “It’s true. She is my niece…and your cousin.”

And then there were all those family tales about Maggie Fuller returning one day. Billy had never put much stock into the old legends, but Rio didn’t just look like Maggie—she was an exact replica. He’d heard about people resembling an ancestor, but this was different. If he didn’t know better, he knew they’d swear the portrait of Maggie was actually a painting of Rio.

Once word got around about his new cousin, the girl would probably be elevated to sainthood. When that happened, somebody was bound to get hurt.

~~~~

CHAPTER 5

Rio returned to her motel room. At this point, there was nothing else she could do. She’d played her card and now she’d have to wait. That was the hardest part of all, waiting for her mark to make the next move.

She knew they’d respond accordingly. They had to. Bill believed she was his niece. She’d seen that in his eyes, saddened by the news of his sister’s death. And then there was that chick in the painting. Maggie Fuller. What was up with that anyway?

Rio had realized when Turner hired her that she resembled Maggie. She’d seen that in the faded and worn photograph. That’s the sole reason she got the job. But when she saw that painting of Maggie on the Tajan’s dining room wall, it was as if she’d seen a ghost of herself.

And the warrior in the other painting—Maggie’s lover—Rio couldn’t get him out of her mind. Oh sure, he was a handsome enough fellow, but it was more than that. When she looked into his eyes, she felt as if she knew him from somewhere. Or, maybe she would’ve liked to have known him.

Yep, it’d been a really long time since she’d been this attracted to someone. And wouldn’t you know it? It had to be a guy that lived more than a hundred years ago.

There was a knock at the door, but it didn’t startle or surprise her. She pushed herself up from the bed and headed for the window. “Story of my life.” She peeked through the curtains.

Billy Tajan. She smiled and opened the door.

He gave her a sheepish grin. “I hope you don’t mind that I dropped by without calling.”

“It’s okay.” She tilted her head and shrugged. “You want to come inside?” she asked, taking a step back.

Billy entered the room carrying the jewelry case with the turquoise necklace. “My father asked me to return this to you.” He offered it to her. “He says he appreciates the gesture, but the necklace is yours.”

“Your father should keep it.” She backed away. “I’m sure it means more to him than me.”

“You’re probably right,” he said. “But my dad can be a pretty hardheaded guy sometimes.” He laughed softly. “He’s not going to take no for an answer. So you might as well keep the necklace.”

When she blatantly refused the jewelry case, he laid it on the table.

Rio had left the necklace at the Tajan’s on purpose. But she didn’t do it to win points. She was simply trying to give it back.

The look on Bill’s face when he opened the case and saw the long lost necklace had tugged at her heartstrings. That, and something she couldn’t explain, urged her to leave it there and return it to its rightful owners.

After all, it wasn’t really hers. She was just a con who’d been hired to do a job.

Rio sat down in one of the two chairs at the small table. Billy claimed the other.

“You know,” she said. “I envy you.”

“Why?” He pushed the jewelry case across the table toward her.

“Because you know the heritage and I don’t.” She pushed the case back.

In order to pull this off, Rio had to pretend like she really was Audrey Tajan’s daughter. And Audrey’s daughter would be trying to let the reality of the situation sink in. Audrey’s daughter would have a ton of questions about her Indian heritage and her obvious resemblance to their ancestor.

She was halfway there. Relative or not, her curiosity had piqued regarding the resemblance between herself and Maggie Fuller. She also fancied the idea of being tied to such a close-knit family that had this incredible history. She found the Tajans’ ancestry fascinating.

“Up until my mother died, I didn’t even know there was any Indian blood in me,” she said with a shrug. “She always told everybody she was Hawaiian.”

“Lord knows, I’ve had the history shoved down my throat more than a few times.”

Billy Tajan couldn’t get far enough away from his white ancestry to suit him. It was the curse that he alone had been forced to bear. No one else in the family had been obliged to walk around, day in and day out, with white skin. Every time he looked in the mirror he was reminded of the legacy that he alone had to endure.

Maggie Fuller and her lust for the white man’s dollar had been the cause of Tajan’s death. That’s the way it was in Billy’s eyes.

But now that Rio had shown up, he was no longer alone. Finally, there was someone else to share his burden. Oh sure, he’d been a little reluctant to believe her at first. But his father believed her. And who was he to throw skepticism into the mix?

Billy had quickly decided to trust his father’s instincts; something he’d learned to do a long time ago. A practice that, so far, had not failed him.

“It sounds like a fascinating tale.” Rio’s tone, she hoped, was encouraging enough to get him to talk about the star-crossed lovers.

“Well...I guess I could fill you in,” he said. “If you’d like.”

“If you don’t mind,” Rio said, “I’d love to hear the story.” If he was willing to share the tale with her, she wanted to hear it. She was eager to hear more about the warrior.

“Okay. To make a really long story, short…our third great grandmother Maggie Fuller was white. She and her sisters, Mary and Molly, lived in central California with their grandfather.” He paused, catching his breath, and then continued on. “The girls were notorious bank robbers. Yes it’s true. After the Comstock Lode was discovered in 1859 they decided to come up here and cash in.” Billy seemed less than enthused as he relayed the family’s history, Rio’s interest amplified. “They went up to V.C. and high-jacked a bunch of gold and silver as it was being shipped out. Well, at least that’s the way the story goes. Nobody can agree on how much gold and silver they stole though.” Billy laughed it off. “It’s supposed to be buried around here… somewhere...because legend says they never got the chance to go back and get it.”

Well now, this was becoming more and more interesting by the minute. Billy Tajan was telling her the same story that Turner had. Was it possible? Was there really a treasure? “Do you believe it?” She kept her tone calm, an amazing feat considering her heart felt like it was going to pound out of her chest. “About the treasure being buried around here somewhere?”

“My father believes it,” he said, but he didn’t sound convinced. “He has half a map that was allegedly created by Maggie herself. It’s supposed to lead to the treasure.” Billy rolled his eyes and kept his laughter to a minimum.

Rio tamped down the urge to leap up and grab her briefcase. It had to appear like she was thinking over her options. She let out a soft moan as she leaned over and grabbed the red leather attaché propped up against the nightstand. She set it on her lap and unzipped the top. Digging around in her briefcase, she came out with the small leather case that she’d gotten from Turner. She opened it and pulled out the folded map.

She avoided direct eye contact but peeked at him with a stealthful eye. He looked like he was buying her ruse. Good.

“I found this in my mother’s things,” she said, handing it to Billy.

He took it, but made no move to unfold the faded and worn document. “What’s this?”

“Till now, I wasn’t really sure.” Rio returned her briefcase to the floor and leaned back in her chair. “But now I think it’s half a map.”

What the... Billy opened it up and stared at it. This made absolutely no sense. “How did Audrey get a hold of this?” he asked, for his own benefit more than Rio’s.

“Beats me.” She sounded bored. “I didn’t even know it existed until after she died.”

“We need to go show this to my dad.”

Billy and Rio went back to his parents’ house, where they showed Billy’s father the document. The senior Tajan retrieved his partial map from its secret hiding place and lined up the two. They were a perfect match.

“Can you read it?” Billy’s outlook had gone from skeptical to hopeful.

Bill studied the map, and after a brief bout of silence he started shaking his head. “It makes absolutely no sense at all.”

The map was full of hand-drawn, unmarked roads and trails and had no visible landmarks whatsoever.

“We just haven’t figured out how to read it yet.” Finally Rio had found some optimism.

“Do we want to figure out how to read it?” Billy asked. If they did that then he’d feel compelled to go find its treasure—if there was indeed one.

“Do you believe the treasure is real?” Rio asked Bill.

“Yes I do,” Bill said in a tone that Billy only heard when his father’s mind was made up.

“Well then…” Rio said, “I say let’s go find it.”

~~~~

CHAPTER 6

Turner Atkins wasn’t the nicest or the most upstanding guy around. By all outside accounts, he was a seedy character who was most likely always up to no good. This particular instance was no exception.

He didn’t care what people thought of him. He hadn’t gotten where he was by being a doormat. All that mattered to Turner was that people, in general, were afraid of him because that meant he was in charge. And damned if that little spitfire—she was anything but. Turner didn’t like it. It wasn’t right. Some little two-bit con thinking she could play ball with the likes of Turner Atkins.

Inside his Vegas office Turner was on the phone, barking out orders. “Put a tail on her,” he said. “If Timmons is right about her…I don’t want to find out about it after it’s too late.”

~~~~

CHAPTER 7

Billy waited beside Rio while she unlocked her motel room door. “So,” he said as she opened the door and went inside. “You really want to do this?” he asked, following her in.

“Damn straight I do.” She tossed her keys on the table.

“This could take some time, you know. We don’t even know where to look.” He let his thoughts ramble out. If he justified it then he wouldn’t look like a weirdo when he extended an invitation to his newfound cousin. “So, why don’t you check out of here and come stay at my place?”

Rio studied him with odd curiosity lighting her eyes.

“I have an extra bedroom you can use,” he assured her. “You are family, after all.”

“Okay...” The word lingered on the air. “But on one condition.” She sat down at the table. “You have to make that short story really long again.”

“You’re fascinated by him, aren’t you?” That’s the way it seemed from his vantage point.

“Just curious.”

“Well then—” He didn’t put much stock in her reply. “—you’d be the first woman that wasn’t.”

* * *

At Billy’s house, he led Rio down the hallway and stopped at the doorway to the extra bedroom. “It’s not much, but it’s free.”

“My kind of place.” Rio’s smile turned on at half pressure.

He gave a little chuckle and set her bags down inside the doorway. Billy made no move to enter the room. “You’d better get some rest,” he said. “We’re going up to V.C. tomorrow.”

“Virginia City?”

“Yes…Virginia City.” He flashed a quick smile and turned away.

“Goodnight…” She watched him disappear down the dimly lit hallway. Rio backed into the room and closed the door.

She lay down on the bed, curled up and stared off into space. Times like these, most any of her childhood memories could resurface and become so vivid, as if it had happened only yesterday. The memory that came creeping out this time happened when she was about six years old.

She was hiding in her room and she could hear her parents arguing. Their yelling had scared her.

The sound of her mother’s voice had come crashing through the walls. “You and that kid...you’re both driving me nuts!”

Rio’s father’s voice held a commanding tone, but it wasn’t nearly as boisterous as her mother’s had been. “Abby, lower your voice. She’ll hear you.”

“I don’t care if she does.” Abby blurted out her contempt. “She’s so stinking needy. You’re both so damned stinking needy!”

Rio hadn’t moved from her place on the bed, except that maybe she’d drawn up into more of a fetal position. She was still staring off into space, and tears had trailed over her face like miniature rivers.

~~~~

CHAPTER 8

Rio had never allowed any man, besides her father, to drive her Corvette. That car was her baby. But she’d gladly turned the keys over to Billy because he not only knew the area better than her. And, it was a great way to gain his confidence.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me drive.” There was a heady and exhilarating quality in his voice.

“Well, you know the area better than me.” She played it off as logic. “And besides…” She gave him a gentle smack on the arm. “I trust you.”

Rio marveled at how the town of Virginia City was still preserved in all its glory. Had it not been for the power lines and vehicles lining the streets, she might have thought she’d stepped back in time.

There was something eerie about the place. If she really thought about it, this was the same sidewalk people had rambled along more than a hundred years ago. Tourists could still enter the same shops, saloons and hotels the miners, shopkeepers, and less than desirable folks frequented back in the day.

She could easily see the most levelheaded people swearing they’d felt a cool, brisk nudge bump up against them as they ambled along the town’s vintage wooden sidewalks, even though was no one there.

That gave her the willies.

Billy parked the car in front of an old saloon that’d been converted into a gift shop.

They exited the car and strode up to the wooden sidewalk, merging into the flow of tourists milling along the city’s storefronts. They’d all come to visit the nation’s largest historical landmark.

Passing by the Delta Saloon, Rio felt a chill shiver through her. She tried to shake it off and something inside her unraveled. Her shoulders shook.

“The Suicide Table reaching out here and grabbing hold of you?” He teased her with an elbow nudge to the side.

Rio stopped. “What?”

He gestured toward the saloon in a grand way. “The fabled Suicide Table.”

“You’re joking.” She rolled her eyes over him. “Right?”

He pointed a single finger upward, and a sly smile curled on his lips as his eyes shifted upward. Rio’s gaze followed his to the sign hanging above their heads advertising the now-famous Suicide Table.

Billy told her all about how the historical object, back in its day, was nothing more than a faro table. Over the years, many versions of the misfortunes the card table bestowed upon gamblers had grown into full-fledged legends.

“You want to go see it?” Billy asked with an eager grin.

“It’s just a stupid old table…” Rio was starting to feel a little freaked out, but couldn’t understand why. She needed to remain indifferent. And she would, even if she had to put on a front. “What’s so great about that?”

She took a couple of steps away from him and he followed her. “You know…” He taunted her with a nudge. “They say that anybody who’s ever owned that table has taken their own life after losing their entire fortunes.” He enjoyed stretching the truth. In all actuality, it was only three of the previous owners that had met an untimely demise at their own hands.

“Well,” she said, her voice oozing skepticism, “the current owner seems to be fairing okay.”

They made their way along the wooden sidewalk; Billy couldn’t resist the temptation to tease her a little more. “You know…there’s ghosts all over the place up here.”

“Nuh-uh.” Her disbelief seemed to freeze her features into a scowl.

“Sure there is.” He pointed to the Silver Queen, a hotel and saloon, just ahead of them. “Take this place up here, for instance.” He nodded. “There was this girl, and she was pregnant and unmarried.” They stopped in front of the saloon while he weaved his tale. “When she realized her lover was not going to make an honest woman of her...” Billy fell silent while his eyes drifted up to the second floor. “She killed herself in one of those rooms up there.”

Rio gasped. “That’s a terrible story.” She didn’t know why, but she was bothered by the thought of some poor girl being abandoned by a shady lover. She scrutinized Billy for a moment and then decided, “You made that up.” She spun on one heel and continued on.

“It’s true.” He followed after her with mischievous laughter echoing from his throat.

They happened upon one of those photo shops that take the old photographs. A twinge of familiarity brushed past Rio. “Hey…” She grabbed his arm. “Let’s go get our picture taken.” The desire had come from out of nowhere, but she dragged him inside with an eager enthusiasm that she couldn’t explain.

In no time, Rio had dressed up like a saloon girl in the old west. The costume was sexy. She looked good in it and she knew it. Parading through each room, she wandered around until she found the saloon backdrop.

She hopped up on the bar and struck a pose. Billy sauntered through the doorway and strode across the studio, wearing a cowboy hat and holding a bottle of Jack. He leaned against the banister and nuzzled up next to her, resting his free hand on his holstered gun.

She gazed at the camera, without much thought of anything roaming around in her mind, and when the flash went off the light blinded her for an instant.

When her eyes refocused, she was standing in front of the Delta Saloon with two other women. They were all dressed funny, in old-timey gowns. Rio felt like she was wearing about a hundred yards of material, and she had on a corset. She could tell because she could hardly breathe. She and the other women, whom she thought looked a little like her, were about to have their picture taken.

The camera’s flash sent her reeling back to the present and back inside the photo studio. Rio looked around, awe-struck by what she thought she’d seen and experienced. She wasn’t sure what had happened, but that didn’t hinder her nerves from making an appearance. They twisted and knotted in her gut. “What the hell was that?”

“You okay?” Billy skimmed his fingers over her shoulder. “What’s wrong? You look like you saw a ghost.”

Slowly, she let her gaze travel over to look at him. She wanted to tell him what happened, but she was too spooked.

“What happened?” Billy’s anxiety chased the curiosity out of his tone.

“It’s weird,” she said in a shaky voice. “I was with two girls and we were getting our picture taken. But we were outside…in front of the place where that deathtrap table is.” At that point, she realized she’d been posing for the same picture that Turner had given her of the Fuller sisters. “I was with Maggie’s sisters.” She could tell by the look on his face that she’d thrown him a curve he hadn’t anticipated.

Billy shook his head. “You need food.” He led her in the direction of Muldoon’s, a restaurant not too far up the street.

They strolled inside and Billy tipped his head at a couple of the waitresses and made his way to a specific table in the corner near the front. Rio dropped into the chair opposite him.

He eyed her with a scrutinizing stare. But Rio got that. She’d just told him she’d posed for a picture that was taken over one hundred years earlier. Who wouldn’t be concerned about that?

Hell, she wasn’t comfortable with it herself—indicative of the fact that she was methodically rearranging the packets of sugar and sugar substitutes.

She hadn’t given the strange chill she’d gotten while walking past the Delta Saloon much thought when it happened. But now, she was starting to make the connection that it had happened in the same place where Maggie and her sisters had posed for their photograph.

That was a little too freaky.

“This place makes great burgers,” Billy said, distracting her. “And I think you could use something to eat,” he added, in a more playful tone.

“This is all your fault.” It was going to take a lot more than humor to melt her fear. “You and your stupid ghost stories.”

Billy chucked and shook his head. “You take everything so serious. You need to lighten up.”

“Yeah—” She snorted. “Like you, huh?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, you’re not exactly comfortable with your ancestry. You make a joke out of everything, so you don’t have to deal with anything.” She tossed him a knowing look. “Do you know how lucky you are to come from such a fantastic family?”

“Why?” He couldn’t help but laugh. “Because you’re in it?”

“You don’t like talking about your family, do you?”

“They’re your family, too.”

“Don’t avoid the subject,” she said. “Why don’t you want to discuss them?”

“What’s to discuss?” He’d rather avoid the subject all together. He knew where she was headed and he didn’t want to join her.

“Maggie and Tajan,” she said. “You were supposed to tell me about them.”

“I’ll tell you about them,” he said, “but I don’t like the story.” He shook his head. “So don’t ask me to.”

“What’s not to like?”

“Their great love.” He mocked the idea. “It ended up costing Tajan his life.”

“Would you rather they’d never met?”

“Well, now…if that were the case,” he said, “you and I wouldn’t be here...now would we?”

Ever since he could remember, Billy had always placed the blame for Tajan’s death solely on Maggie Fuller’s shoulders. As a direct result, he thought he should form a natural aversion for Rio too, since she appeared—physically anyway—to be the second coming of the woman he despised.

His plan failed miserably.

Instead of disliking her, he found a kindred spirit in Rio. Finally, someone had come along who was just like him.

An Indian trapped in a white person’s body.

~~~~

PART TWO

THE LEGEND

~~~~

CHAPTER 9

In the early part of 1863 the Fuller sisters had spent a lot of time in Virginia City, plotting and planning their caper. Finally the day came and they managed to get away with a shipment of gold and silver. Immediately, they took the treasure out into the hills and buried it, where they intended to leave it until the frenzy surrounding the robbery died down.

Things would have been fine, too. If they hadn’t run out of money.

The Fuller sisters were as resourceful as they were audacious. Heading down to Carson City, they robbed the bank.

The job should’ve gone smoothly. It was the same heist they’d pulled off time and time again. An early morning break-in; get in and out before anybody’s even awake. But this time, something went wrong.

Rushing through the bank’s back door, the girls mounted their horses and headed around front. They were, for all intents and purposes, well on their way out of town—until they ran into the sheriff and his deputy.

Maggie knew right away that the sheriff must have had a pretty good idea about what he’d happened upon. But she doubted he knew the well-disguised bandits were women.

The lawmen’s sudden appearance did little to dissuade the sisters. It didn’t stop them from trying to make a break for it by splitting up and heading out in different directions.

The sheriff drew his weapon. Unaware of the outlaws’ gender, he raised his gun and aimed at the closest one.

A shot rang out and Maggie’s heart leapt into her throat. She couldn’t bear the thought of one of her sister’s being shot. She glanced over her shoulder.

The deputy’s gun was drawn. He hesitated. Even with the distance between them, Maggie could easily guess that he was trying to decide who to aim for. After a few seconds of indecision, he turned his gun on Maggie.

Maggie nudged her horse Lightning with a kick of her heels and a sharp whistle. Lightning picked up speed. Shortly after, the second shot rang out. Maggie closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, somehow realizing what was coming.

The bullet pierced her shoulder.

She wasn’t about to let a little thing like getting shot stop her from escaping, and nudged Lightning again. They needed to move faster.

She had no idea her little sister Molly had been shot, much less killed.

Maggie’s instincts took over, driving her toward the forest surrounding Lake Tahoe. The wooded area was the only place in the barren desert that she was going to find cover.

Blood poured from the awkward injury on the edge of her shoulder, but she convinced herself to ignore it. For now. She rode several miles before she felt safe enough to stop and tend to her wound.

She hid behind a bushy Pinion Pine and fumbled with the scarf around her neck, untying it with one hand. She used it to apply pressure to her injury and within seconds blood had soaked through the scarf.

Confusion distorted her mind’s ability to think. Maggie stumbled back into the bristles of the tree, but felt nothing of the prickling pine needles. Her mind faded into deeper darkness. She fought it but the task was too great. Maggie slumped to the ground and her head a rock. She slipped into unconsciousness.

About a mile away, Tajan was riding bareback through the forest on his magnificent pony, Pico. The horse maintained a steady pace as Tajan dodged the trees. Wind whipped his waist-length hair. Pine needles scraped his bare torso. He urged Pico to go faster. He loved nothing better than riding in the forest at full speed. He never actually lost track of where he was, but sometimes he would get a little surprised at how far he’d ridden.

There was a time when he was younger that he’d misjudge his surroundings and end up tangling with the limb of a tree. Those days, the tree always won. But those days were long gone. These days, he could ride through the forest with his eyes closed. And he could do it on any horse.

Tajan continued on his outing that fateful day, reining his pony to a trot as he approached a thicket. The stationary horse caught his eye. His own horse fell into a slow gait and he scanned the area.

Nothing. He saw no one hiding in the shadows—just a body lying on the ground a few feet in front of him. He gave the area another quick inspection and slid off his horse. At first glance he took the the body for a white man. But as he got closer he saw that it was a white woman dressed in the white man’s clothing.

Tajan slid off Pico easily and knelt down beside her. Her fiery hair was bright — brighter than anything he’d ever seen. He’d heard about the white man’s woman; how some of them had yellow or red hair. At first he, like everyone else in the tribe, thought that notion to be quite the tall tale. But, as more and more of the whites invaded the land, his people began to see that the strange traits weren’t myths, after all.

He wanted, but hesitated, to touch her hair. It was so much like fire. He thought it might have the capability to burn his hand. Temptation got the better of him. Gently, he pushed her hair out of her face.

Her alabaster skin was pale, drained of life. Still, she had the most beautiful face he’d ever seen. Intrigue thundered through his heart. This was a woman he had to know better.

Then it hit him. What if she was dead? Tajan touched his fingertips against her neck and felt a faint heartbeat. He let out a sigh. If she was still alive, then his father would fix her. He was sure of that.

Tajan’s people, the Washoe were native to Lake Tahoe and the surrounding valley areas in Nevada. In the winter, late fall and early spring the tribe lived in numerous small communities, each with about ten or fifteen lodges situated in the clearings around the wooded areas of the campground. Only during the summer did the people come together as a whole at the lake.

Approaching his particular tribal campground, Tajan carried the still unconscious white woman in his arms. Her horse voluntarily followed behind them.

The children caught sight of his return and, as with tradition, they scurried out to greet him. But he was much too preoccupied on this day to play with the youngsters as he usually did.

Without a word, he carried Maggie into his father’s lodge. He had confidence that his father Timeko, the Shaman of the tribe, would help her.

“She has been shot,” he told his father in their native tongue.

“Lay her by the fire.” Timeko was much calmer than his son.

Tajan stayed with the stranger he’d rescued while his father tended to her.

She didn’t move. She didn’t open her eyes.

He watched her face. He’d never held much regard for the white man. He didn’t know the white man and he didn’t want to. Until now, he would have thought he could easily leave a white woman—just as a white man—lying in the forest to bleed to death.

From the moment he’d gazed upon her flaming red hair and pulled it back out of her alluring face, something about her twisted around him and wouldn’t let him go.

He could not walk away and leave her there to die.

~~~~

CHAPTER 10

The Washoe spent their winters in the valley areas of the Lake Tahoe foothills. In the late spring they’d move up to the east shore of the lake, where they’d remain throughout the summer.

To the Washoe the lake was sacred, so desecration was not allowed. Members of the tribe fished in the nearby streams rather than the lake itself. In the spring and summer months an abundance of trout could be found in those streams. They smoked the fish and traded it to other tribes and eventually white settlers, too.

Family legends report that Timeko was not Washoe. His true heritage had been lost with time. He did bring many customs to the tribe; traditions and abilities clearly unknown to the Washoe during the 1830s when he happened upon them. The talents Timeko bestowed upon the Washoe could have tied him to any one of three tribes: Sioux, Apache or Navajo.

Known for being a man of great strength and courage, those qualities initially brought him an invitation and then acceptance into the Washoe tribe.

One fateful day the Washoe’s chief found himself cornered against some boulders by a large black bear. His survival was looking pretty dim as the bear moved in closer. But instead of mauling him, as the chief expected, the bear fell at his feet. He had a Bowie knife planted in his back.

The man responsible—a man the chief had never seen before—stayed on the other side of the bear.

The Chief was grateful and befriended the stranger who called himself Timeko. He took him back to the tribal campground and paraded him around as if he had returned with a god.

The chief soon learned his savior was also a gifted man, and once realizing the extent of his mystical abilities he quickly named him the Shaman of the tribe.

The chief had a beautiful daughter named Lela who was coveted by all the unmarried men in the tribe, and probably a few married ones as well. She’d never shown any interest in any of them, but that changed when she got one look at Timeko.

According to family tradition, she willingly married the stranger after they fell madly and instantly in love. Of all the couple’s children, only Tajan survived into adulthood.

~~~~

CHAPTER 11

Timeko mixed up several concoctions and used them in an effort to heal Maggie. He would never deny his medicine to anyone who needed it. No matter who they were. Still, he was a little surprised when his son brought home a white woman who’d been shot.

He could guess that she must be in some sort of trouble. And for some reason his son had felt a compelling need to help her.

Maggie lay unconscious in Tajan’s dwelling for the better part of a week. During that time he constantly stayed by her side, nursing her back to health. And, because she hadn’t awakened yet, he was starting to get a little anxious. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He didn’t know why he wanted her to wake up so badly, but he knew he needed her to.

He scrutinized her while she slept. She’d opened her eyes only for a second or two during the last few days, and he didn’t think she’d realized where she was when she did. At first, he relished watching her sleep, enjoying her beauty. But after a few days, he came to know an emptiness that grew from her inactivity. The fact that she never moved, wouldn’t wake up, left him with a hollow feeling.

Timeko entered the lodge and Tajan looked at him. “Her fever has broken,” he said in his native tongue.

“Has she come to yet?” Timeko asked.

“No, not yet.”

“She will,” Timeko said with a measure of certainty. “It’s just a matter of time.”

After his father left Tajan returned to her side.

She moaned, and her eyes crept open. Looking up at him, her eyes were void of fear—something Tajan found a little odd since he knew the wild tales the whites enjoyed spreading about the savage natives.

“You…” Tajan said in sparse English, “are good?” He hadn’t had much practice with the white man’s language, so his words came slowly and with a great deal of consideration.

She said nothing, but anxiety glazed her eyes. Yes, she was coming to because now she realized where she was—in the presence of an Indian.

Slowly, she pushed herself up and tugged his rabbit-skin blanket up against her as if it offered her protection.

She couldn’t help the bit of nerves creeping in. Where was she, and how had she come to be here—with him?

I’m going to die. But she doubted that would be the worse fate he could bestow upon her. What could be worse than dying...? Torture, without dying. Just day in and day out relentless torture.

* * *

After a few days Maggie had regained most of her strength. She spent her days inside his lodge, trying to devise a plan for escape. Not that she really felt like a prisoner, but truth be told she didn’t know why she was here in this place.

The warrior came in carrying two dishes piled with food. A smile splashed across his face upon seeing her sitting by the fire. He took a seat less than a foot away from her and handed her one of the dishes.

Maggie accepted it with a bit of reluctance. She looked down at the bowl and studied its contents, thinking it might be some kind of fish. She still wasn’t sure she wasn’t in danger, and tried, but failed miserably, at resisting the fear mounting inside her gut. She put on her bravest front and offered up gratitude in its place. “Thank you.” She hoped he wasn’t a threat to her.

Tajan smiled and excitement tingled in her stomach. But such an attraction would be perilous. A risk she could not afford to take. Needing a distraction, Maggie concentrated on her hunger instead. She scooped up the food with her fingers and tried it. Uhm, fish...and good, too.

She ate the food he’d given her, and kept a cautious eye on him. “Who are you?” she said in English.

“I am called Tajan,” he said in battered English. “Your name?”

“Maggie, everybody calls me Maggie.” One look into his deep smoldering eyes and she was lost, unable to tear her gaze away. Curiosity wrangled with her infatuation. “How did you learn to speak English?”

“White traders,” he said. “I speak little. My mother speak little. But that is all.”

“You understand me well enough.” A relaxing wave of serenity breezed past her. “Or so it would seem.”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Understand much better than speak.”

Maggie’s gaze rolled around the lodge. Her thoughts dragged her back to him.

He’s an Indian. The need to panic shuddered through her. Was she in danger? For a split second, fear pierced her thoughts.

As if he sensed her anxiety, he caressed her hand with a soft, gentle touch.

Maggie wasn’t prepared for the hunger that rushed her body.

“You okay,” he said. “I do not hurt.”

Maggie looked at his hand, still on hers, and then her gaze drifted back up to his. “How did I get here?” His burning eyes held her still.

“Find you in forest,” he said. “You are shot.” He pointed to her saddlebags. “Carry white man’s money.”

She pulled her hand away from him. She closed her eyes and massaged her forehead. She’d forgotten about that.

~~~~

CHAPTER 12

The days passed and Maggie grew stronger until she was as close to one hundred percent as she was going to get. She’d been telling herself, for several days, that she needed to get back home. Her grandfather and her sisters were probably worried about her. But it seemed every time she was close to making the decision to leave, Tajan would walk in and give her a smile that held a spark of eroticism—and her heart would melt.

She convinced herself that staying for a little while longer was the smart thing to do. At this time it was best not to draw attention to herself or her family. And what better place to hide than among the Washoe? Not many white people ventured into their camp. Just a few trappers and traders here and there, but they weren’t local. She doubted the authorities knew the bank robbers were women, so if any of them saw wanted posters in town, it was doubtful they’d equate them with her. Yes, staying was the thing to do; better than inviting trouble by traveling alone.

Summers around Lake Tahoe were fleeting, and nighttime temperatures were always cool, if not a little chilly. In the early morning hours it wasn’t unusual to find remnants of a fire smoldering from the night before.

On one of those chilly mornings Maggie was up early and sitting by the fire when Tajan came in. He gave her a smile she was coming to cherish. “You are good?” he asked with genuine interest.

“Yes,” she said. “Thank you.” Then she saw the slash gouged into the side of his deerskin shirt. She was on her feet and at his side before her brain caught up. “Your shirt…” She reached out to him. “Are you hurt?”

Tajan stiffened, backing away. “No!” He wasn’t trying to shut her out. His nature, nor his custom, approved of showing weakness. And making a big deal out of a little scratch was a clear display of vulnerability.

Maggie latched onto his arm. “I was only going to say—” She didn’t let go, even though he made a half-hearted attempt at pulling away. “—I can fix it. If you have a needle and thread.”

Tajan hesitated, studying her with a stoned, yet curious, gaze. A slight smile curled the tips of his mouth. “You…are kind.”

“Are you bleeding?” Anxiety burned her cheeks. She didn’t like thinking he could be injured.

He dropped his gaze as he lifted his shirt and revealed a superficial wound that had trickled a bit of blood.

Her throat seemed to close up. She choked out the words, “you are hurt!”

Tajan grabbed her hand and held it away from the lesion. “It is nothing.”

Great. His male ego was alive and well. “Oh, don’t do that. You took care of me…now let me do the same for you.”

“I…” He seemed to be searching for the right words in English. “Not hurt.”

Maggie wanted to take care of him, like he’d done for her. But getting him to let that happen was about to give her a headache from banging her head against his steadfast wall of ego.

As far as Tajan was concerned, he wasn’t hurt. He didn’t need any help. But, he’d allow her to mend his clothing, if that was her wish.

Maggie had gotten the sewing supplies from Tajan’s mother. And now, she was back in his lodge mending his clothing.

The equivalent of the English word amazing crossed his thoughts in his native language. She truly was the most alluring creature he’d ever seen, and something about her made him crazy.

He was no longer content being one of the happy-go-lucky unmarried men in the tribe. The idea of charming all the girls and committing to none had lost its appeal. Now, the only thing that brought him pleasure was the thought of coming back to the campsite and finding Maggie in his lodge.

When she finished mending his garment she singed the thick, coarse thread with the heat of the fire, then turned the shirt right side out and moved closer to him. She draped the garment against her chest and looked at him. “What do you think?” she asked, looking down at the shirt and then back up at him again. “Not bad, huh?” The sparkle in her green eyes spilled out onto her face and tugged up the corners of her mouth.

He took the shirt, inspected her handwork and then looked back at her. “It is good.” He nodded. “Thank you.”

* * *

That evening Maggie lay in her bedding on the other side of the fire from Tajan. He was sleeping, or at least she thought so. The glow of the flames cast a dim light over his appealing face that was rawboned and free of any signs of whiskers.

She liked looking at him when he was sleeping. She didn’t have to worry about him catching her staring or anything embarrassing like that. Her judgment was captivated, imprisoned by thoughts of the man who’d saved her. It left her daydreaming about the possibilities of what tomorrow could bring.

By all accounts she should be afraid of him. And maybe she was—a little—in the beginning. Tajan had made it easy though, for her to quickly see that she had nothing to fear from him.

The light of the fire cast a dim glow over his brown skin. Her gaze traveled across his body, eyeing the rippled physique of his well-defined torso. His dark hair cascaded down past his shoulders. She fancied the notion of running her fingers through it to see if it was as thick and as coarse as it looked. She wanted that long hair, no matter what its texture, to hang down over her face while he towered above her as they made love.

~~~~

CHAPTER 13

The days continued to flutter away. But Maggie couldn’t muster the desire to go home. After spending the last few weeks with Tajan, she wanted to stay with him forever. And they hadn’t even kissed, much less anything else.

She wondered if the Indians kissed each other? If they did, they did it in private. She’d never seen anything more than passing glances from the couples as they went about their daily business. She wanted Tajan to look at her that way, even if it was only fleeting.

Possessing such contentment for her newfound home, she’d taken to wearing Indian garb quite some time ago. She found great pleasure in taking part in the tribe’s way of life.

Sitting crossed-legged between Tajan’s mother and his aunt, Maggie was contented while learning their art of beadwork. Everyone added their own special touch to the pouches they were making out of deerskin; an art that Timeko had been brought to the tribe. He’d taught Tajan’s mother, Lela, how to do it and soon all the women in the tribe were eager to learn.

And now, Lela taught Maggie. To the delight of both Lela and her sister, the young white girl had turned out to be a quick study. When Maggie was done, she ended up with a satisfactory pouch adorned in red, yellow, and blue beadwork.

Lela wanted Maggie to feel comfortable with the tribe. She knew Tajan was falling for the young white woman. She saw it in his eyes. First, when he talked about her, and later—every time he looked at her. She had a pretty good idea that Maggie felt the same way. And since they both were moving painfully slow, she decided she’d have to give them a little push.

Maggie inspected her handiwork. “Now what do I do with it?”

“Give to Tajan,” Lela coaxed in English.

Sure, okay. Maggie gave a little shrug and pushed herself up from the ground. She went to look for him and found him inside his lodge, stacking firewood for the coming days. Maggie had been living in his dwelling, but they had not shared a bed.

Tajan glanced at her. The light in his eyes agreed with the smile that came to his mouth.

Maggie went to him; the heat of her blush singeing her cheeks. She had a hard time making eye contact. She didn’t know why. She just did. “Here.” She handed him the pouch. “This is for you.” She cleared her throat, surprised by the amount of nervous anxiety mounting inside her. “Your mother taught me how to make it.”

He leapt to his feet. “You make for me?” He touched her fingertips as he took the pouch. “Does my mother tell you what it means to give to me?”

Her forehead wrinkled.

A disappointed fell over him. “She does not.” He released the pouch back into Maggie’s hands. “The women…they make these for husband,” he said. “Or, for the one they wish to be husband.”

Great. Maggie felt the flush that she was certain was blistering bright red across her face. Did he have any idea she lay awake at night dreaming about him having his way with her? “Well, I guess the significance doesn’t really matter, does it?” She hoped her tone was a trivial as her words. “I made it for you.” She offered the pouch to him again. “Do you want it or not?”

~~~~

CHAPTER 14

Tajan and Maggie spent much of their free time at a place that would one day be known as Vista Point. Huge rocks and boulders had been placed amid the trees with such aesthetic strategy, it was as if the gods themselves had put them there. Off in the distance, the lake served as a magnificent backdrop with snow-covered mountains towering behind it.

They were sitting side-by-side on the edge of a boulder jutting out of the ground like a bench.

“I really don’t know how to thank you for everything that you’ve done for me,” she said, her tone oozing with the gratefulness she felt.

He had his arms crossed downward in front of him and he was holding onto one wrist with the other hand. “You are welcome,” he said, crooking his head sideways to look at her.

“Why don’t you keep the money I had on me…when you found me.” She marveled at the notion, realizing what she’d suggested. Where in the hell had that came from? She didn’t want to leave. Then again, maybe staying wasn’t as much of an option as she’d initially hoped. She’d been there for weeks and he’d never attempted, not once, to lay a finger on her. Like now for instance. Their legs had brushed together more than once. Instead of taking her in his arms, he was holding them prisoner at his lap; while she was dying to feel the heat of his bare skin against hers.

“You go away?” There was a weakness in his voice that she hadn’t heard before.

“It’s probably time that I get out of your hair.” She made the mistake of looking at him. One look into his dark eyes, beautiful like black silk, and she couldn’t help herself. No way she could leave without touching him. Feeling the tears moistening her eyes, she trailed her fingertips over his cheek and down his jaw.

He draped his hand over hers, pressing her palm against his face. “You stay with me,” he said, and it was no question. “You be my wife. I take care of you...never hurt.”

Tears splashed from her eyes and fell down onto her cheeks. Her heart hammered gleefully.

He pulled her against him. “Maggie…do not leave me.” His whispers blew hot against her cheek. He tightened his embrace and let his caresses explore a body that was more than willing to accept his touch.

“I can’t think of any place I’d rather be,” she said. “Or anything I’d rather do than stay here and be your wife.”

He leaned back far enough to keep her pressed firmly against him with one arm, and freeing up the other to reach for the pouch hanging at his side.

Tajan pulled a beautifully detailed turquoise necklace and offered it to her.

“This is for me?” She took the magnificent piece of jewelry. “It’s beautiful.”

He fastened the necklace around her neck and turned her around, pulling her back into his arms. Invading her mouth with his, he kissed her for the first time.

Their lips touched, stealing Maggie’s breath away. His soft, sensual kisses robbed her of every ounce of reasoning she could ever hope to possess.

Tangling his fingers in her silky smooth hair, his need to have her ached for relief. He’d wanted her from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. But Tajan wasn’t the type of man to push himself on a woman. And the last thing he wanted to do was scare her away. Instead, he’d resolved to bide his time and wait until the moment was right. His patience had finally paid off.

Maggie wanted him and she wanted him now. She’d lain awake too many nights. Wondering.

“You said—” Between his kisses she spoke in an almost whisper. “—you wanted me to be your wife. How exactly do we make that happen?” That must have been what he was waiting for.

“It happened when you said yes.”

“That’s it?” She froze, and stared up at him. “You mean we’re married?”

“Is that what the white man calls it?” He flashed her an enticing grin.

“Yes.” She felt the need to lay down some ground rules. “You know…later on...you can’t toss me aside now that you’ve made this commitment.”

Tajan rubbed her red locks between his fingers. “We belong to each other.” He gave her hair a little tug, pulling her toward him. “You have my heart. Forever.” He brushed his lips against hers.

“I’m interested in more than your heart right now.” She trailed her fingertips over his chest and traced the contours of the rock-solid muscles rippling over his stomach.

“You wish to go back to the village?”

“No…” She let out a soft moan. “Here. Here is fine.”

Tajan scanned the area and ended up yanking the blankets off their horses. He laid them out on a flat boulder and then turned back to her. “You are sure?”

She grabbed his arms, pulling him with her as she lay down on the blankets. Just as she’d imagined so many times before, his hair cascaded down in a curtain of black rain falling all around her face. It was thick, to be sure, but there was nothing coarse or rough about it. It caressed her face and shoulders with a silky-softness as he moved above her.

When the ritual was complete, joining the soul mates together forever, Tajan lay over Maggie in a state of sheer tranquility. She made no attempt to move her legs, still wrapped around him. Neither of them were capable of moving, nor did they care to.

Many things ran through her mind at that time, but her home in California or her background weren’t among them. Anything that crept into her thoughts wasn’t allowed to stay unless it was centered around Tajan.

He, on the other hand, knew she was hiding from something—or someone. And if he had to guess, he’d say it wasn’t good. Not from her people’s standpoint, anyway. But he didn’t care what her people thought; or his people either for that matter. All he knew was, she’d walked into his life and now everything had a purpose. Everything he did, he did with her in mind.

What joined together in those two that day would prove to be a bond that would last forever.

~~~~

CHAPTER 15

Now that Maggie was Tajan’s wife she was quite content and felt rather at home, living with him amongst the Washoe. The thought of leaving him wasn’t something she allowed herself to contemplate. Still, the guilt was there—over her family in California worrying about her. It ached, clawed and scratched, trying to break free.

Maggie came up with a viable solution. The next time traders passed through, she’d hire them to deliver a message.

Even with all the adjustments to her newfound lifestyle, Maggie’s heritage and customs still ached to come out. She hadn’t forgotten that, in her world, a married couple used symbols to show their bond—namely a wedding ring.

But this wasn’t a custom of the Washoe. Maggie came upon the answer when she decided to introduce her own version of marital expression to her newfound family. In her need to have material symbols representative of the fact that she and Tajan belonged to one another, she made a pair of matching bracelets out of leather and beads.

Upon showing them to Tajan, he was none the wiser. “What’s this?” He looked at the items in her hand and then back at her.

“Well...” She stalled, thinking she’d have to talk him into wearing them. “In my world when a man and a woman marry, they exchange gold rings.” He was never going to go for this. “And since we don’t have any…I made these.” She held out the bracelets. “If we wear them, they’ll be a symbol of our love for each other.”

“This will make you happy?” he asked.

“Well...” She thought about it. “I’m already happy. But this is one way to ensure my continued happiness.”

“If this makes you happy...” And there was that devilishly handsome grin of his again. “We will wear them.”

Maggie tied the larger bracelet on his left wrist, just as a wedding ring belongs on the left hand. Once done, she handed the other bracelet to him and held out her left arm.

Tajan followed her lead and tied the bracelet onto her wrist. As he did, he gazed at her, kissing her with his eyes. She was about to get lost in his eyes when his lips feather-touched hers with tantalizing persuasion.

The touch of his mouth was as soft as a whisper. She opened her mouth, encouraging him to come inside.

~~~~

CHAPTER 16

Among the Washoe, since there was no ritualistic ceremony to join a man and woman together, couples simply decided they would unite and from that day forward everyone in the tribe considered them to be married. And so it was with Maggie and Tajan.

Their union was well received by the tribe’s members; especially by Lela, Tajan’s mother. She knew her son was crazy about Maggie. And she also knew that if Maggie left, Tajan would never get over it.

Timeko knew what it was like to be the outsider looking in. Loving someone that you were certain could belong to anyone but you. When Lela’s father initiated the marriage between his daughter and Timeko —Timeko never forgot what that felt like. Even though he had his reservations about the young white woman, whom he was certain carried a sizeable burden, he accepted it with grace because he wanted his son to be happy. And according to his wife, this young white woman was the only thing in this world that would ever make their son happy.

The children in the tribe also loved the new pairing. Not only did they have Tajan, who played with them, but now they had Maggie, too.

Maggie and Tajan’s days were filled with joy and pleasure as they enjoyed a carefree lifestyle right alongside the children. They too were prone to play together like children, rather than act like married adults. Well, maybe teenagers anyway. It never took long for their playful antics to lead from one thing to another. When that happened, one of them always initiated a game of hide and seek with the children, which is how the couple always made their escape. Disguised as an effort to find a hiding place, the couple would run off and disappear, vanishing high up into the hills where the children were never allowed to follow.

Even though the children never attempted to go after them, Maggie and Tajan continued on with their game of hide and seek as if nothing had changed. He could read her like a book, always knowing where to find her when they disappeared.

Once he got her in his sights, he’d call after her playfully. “I will get you, girl!”

Maggie would duck behind a tree, catching her breath. She could always sense when he was getting close to her again. She’d dart out like a flash and run off. Every time Tajan got near her, she’d scream with joyful delight that would filter through the forest.

Upon occasion, their escapades found them on the shores of Lake Tahoe. By this time he’d undoubtedly caught up with her. She’d try to lead him back into the trees once she saw where they were, but he’d catch her, pulling her back toward the lake.

The couple’s laughter filled the air with fun. Maggie somehow resisted his capture, running away. Tajan continued his pursuit playfully. He picked her up and carried her back toward the water, laughing lightheartedly while Maggie giggled and screamed all at the same time. Approaching the water’s edge she clung to him, as if this was the time he’d toss her in. Of course, he never did. Planting her feet in a couple inches of water was the extent of his reprisal.

By then, it was almost time. They’d head for their special place, now known as Vista Point. By the time they’d get there Maggie had more often than not caught her second wind. Her constant jumping around and climbing over the boulders made Tajan nervous. The more she messed around, the more uncomfortable he became with her reckless abandon. Eventually, she’d get to the point of carelessness.

Tajan motioned for her to come down, but she’d mock him with playful gestures. Sometimes, she slipped and fell into his arms. The magnetic power between the them was too much for either of them to overcome, and they ended up kissing. Their mutual attraction drew them into their own private world, derived in passion.

On this day, Maggie’s conscious got the better of her. It seemed that after making love with Tajan she was always at her weakest. It was then that she was the most vulnerable.

She lay on her side with her back to him. He propped himself up on his elbow and glanced down at her.

With a tender, soft touch he caressed her hair back out of her face. “What is wrong?”

She turned over and faced him. “I married you under false pretenses.”

“What do you mean?” A frown wrinkled his brow. “Is there another in your white world?” his tone sharpened. “You left that world behind when I found you. Your world is with me now.”

She shook her head. “There’s no one else. There could never be anyone else.” She touched his face, running her fingers along his strong jaw line. “And you’re right...my world is with you now.”

“Then why are you so sad?” he asked in a much calmer tone.

She hesitated, summoning the courage to tell on herself. “I have to tell you who I am…or was.” She looked away, wanting to hide her humiliation. For the first time she was ashamed of who she was. “My sisters and I—” She looked back at him. “—we robbed banks. That’s how I got shot. And that’s why I had all that money with me when you found me.”

“Did the money bring you happiness?” he asked much too casually for what he’d just heard.

She thought about it, before saying, “I thought it did.”

“And now?”

“Well…now I realize,” she said, “I was wrong.”

“The white man’s money has no value here.” His tone was calm, but firm. “But you must never do it again.”

“I won’t.” She sighed and drew him into her arms. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

“I do not care that you stole from the white man,” he said. “But you have a new family now and you must never steal from any of them.”

“I love these people,” she said, almost hurt. “I would never do anything to harm any of them.”

Guilt washed over Tajan and he felt bad for saying it. He knew she’d probably done some bad things in her white world. And now that she’d admitted stealing from her own people he had to be certain she was clear—she could never do it again. He knew he’d offended her and he couldn’t leave the rift between them.

“You are a liar,” he said in firm, yet playful tone.

“What?” Fire practically shot out from her eyes.

“You must have been a very good thief... where you came from,” he said, and lay back down.

“Why would you say that?” she didn’t know whether to be mad, or scared.

“When you came to us you started with my heart, and did not stop until you stole everyone else’s.” He laughed, pulling her on top of him. “You stole my heart.” He kissed her with lips that were more persuasive than she cared to admit. “Don’t try to deny it.”

“Oh, yeah…” Laughter carried her words on the air. “Is that all I’ve managed to get away with? That’s not all I was after.”

~~~~

CHAPTER 17

Maggie could have easily remained with Tajan and his people, sharing and living out the rest of their lives blissfully happy. That is, if the outside world hadn’t come crashing back down around them. When it did, neither of them expected it. Therefore, neither of them was ready for it.

They’d been out most of the day. And now, as they headed back to camp they laughed and talked, enthralled in each other. Tajan was carrying a batch of trout he’d caught. Maggie had a basket of wild berries and edible roots and bulbs that she’d gathered while Tajan was fishing.

“I want to give your mom some of the pine nuts I found,” she said. The elders’ circle in the middle of the campsite dragged her attention away from Tajan. She scanned the circle, more out of curiosity than anything else, since she knew it had to be a pretty special occasion for it to happen without notice. An important visitor, perhaps?

The last person she expected to see was her grandfather Bradford Fuller.

Maggie froze. Her basket of goods fell to the ground.

Tajan glanced back and forth between Maggie and the tribal council. He zeroed in on the older white man sitting amongst his people and recognized him instantly.

Bradford Fuller was a frequent and welcomed visitor among the Washoe. He was in the habit of traveling up three or four times a year to visit and trade with the tribe.

Maggie’s reaction to the familiar guest twisted Tajan’s nerves around his gut. He turned to her. “Do you know him?” he asked, even though he didn’t want to know the answer. He didn’t need one. He could tell by her reaction that the white trader, who also happened to be a frequent visitor among his people, was more than a simple trader to her.

She looked at the council and then back at Tajan. “He’s my grandfather.”

Tajan’s nerves instantly relaxed. He took her hand, ignoring the spilled basket, and led her toward the group.

Bradford Fuller’s gaze landed on Maggie and Tajan, and his face paled. It was as if he’d seen a ghost.

Which of course was the logical conclusion since he’d thought she was dead.

Mary had returned home with the news of Molly’s death. She and her grandfather had waited for Maggie to show up, but their wait was in vain. After weeks of waiting and nothing ever coming from it they accepted the notion that Maggie must’ve suffered the same fate as her sister Molly.

“That’s my granddaughter!” Bradford pointed to Maggie. He wrestled his urge to jump up; instead, he waited respectfully for Timeko and the tribe’s chief to stand so he was free to go to her without offense.

Maggie dropped Tajan’s hand and ran into Bradford’s arms.

“We thought you were dead, too,” he said.

She backed away, surveying his face with a grave look. “Too?”

“Your sister Molly—” He nearly choked on the words. “—is dead.”

That proved to be a little more than Maggie could handle. Her ability to reason deserted her, then her thoughts faded and consciousness abandoned her.

Maggie slumped toward the ground.

* * *

Bradford Fuller gave his granddaughter precious little time to recover from his difficult news. It didn’t take him long to drag her off, hoping to make her see the error of her ways.

Maggie strolled in the direction of Vista Point with him following behind. She leaned against a giant boulder and he stood over her like a troubled parent.

She tried her best to ignore him because she knew what was coming. She didn’t want to hear it and she certainly didn’t have to like it.

But that didn’t stop him. “You understand that you have to leave here,” he said, “don’t you?”

Maggie could almost feel the fire flickering from her eyes. “I can’t leave him.” Her tone was undeniable and her words final. “I could sooner stop breathing than to leave him.”

“The longer you stay here,” he said in a calm manner, “the more danger you’re putting him in. They killed your sister down in Carson City. And if they get one look at you,” he said of the white law men, “they’re going to know you were one of her accomplices.”

He wasn’t overlooking the similarities between Maggie and Molly. They both had red hair and they looked alike. Mary was the different one with hair as dark as night.

“I can’t leave him…” her words trailed off on an injured tone.

“You’re wanted,” he said. “Remember?”

Yes. And up until now—as far as she knew—she’d been an unidentified party. But now that Molly had been identified, this was not a safe place for Maggie to hide. Not safe for her. Not safe for Tajan. And not safe for his people.

Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes.

“I’m thankful that he found you and nursed you back to health,” he said with a measure of compassion. “But if you truly love him, you’ll leave here with me tomorrow…before they find you and he ends up dying trying to protect you.”

Her grandfather’s words crashed down around her a little too harshly. Even so, they rang of pure truth.

* * *

Once Tajan heard that Bradford intended to take Maggie back to California the next day, he was overcome with anger. Inside his own grandfather’s lodge, Tajan paced paced the length of the interior while Timeko and his grandfather, the Chief, looked on.

He stopped, as if a cold wind had frozen his body, and faced his elders. “I will not let him take her!” he said in his native tongue.

“It’s not your choice,” Timeko replied in the same language. “And she’s in danger here.” Timeko hoped to reason with his son, yet fearing there would be no way of reckoning with him.

“The girl must be returned to her grandfather,” the Chief finally spoke, issuing the final words on the matter.

And those were the worst words in the whole world for Tajan. His grandfather had the last word.

* * *

The tribe’s council decided Tajan’s wife would not accompany him to his lodge that night. Doing so could make it all the more difficult to separate them in the morning.

Just before daybreak, Tajan emerged from his lodge. Having had all night to wallow in his anger, it had swelled to the breaking point.

How dare they? How dare his own people attempt to take away the only thing that had ever meant anything to him?

Maggie emerged from a nearby lodge. She’d been grilled half the night about the danger she’d be bringing to Tajan if she stayed. They’d all tried to make her feel guilty and they’d done a pretty good job of it, too.

She didn’t want to bring danger to him. Why couldn’t they see that? She loved him more than life itself. In fact, she couldn’t imagine life without him. How in the world was she supposed to go back to California and put on this farce of a pretense that she was happy about it? She didn’t know how she was supposed to survive without him. But everyone seemed so certain of one thing—if she stayed, Tajan would die.

Bradford led Maggie past Tajan. She paused, gazing into his eyes. She wished she could tell him it was a bad joke. That everything was going to be okay. But that was a lie. It wasn’t going to be okay. Nothing was ever going to be okay again.

Bradford gave Maggie a tug, prompting her away from Tajan’s side. Her eyes never left Tajan’s steady gaze as she was led away

Tajan had put forth a good front—on the outside. But inside, he was dying. His heart was breaking. The fact that she could actually walk away from him was killing him.

Bradford nudged Maggie to get on the horse. She did it—in an almost trance-like state—and turned back for one last look. Tears were starting to smear her vision. Even so, she could see his stone-faced glare.

Tajan didn’t take his eyes off her until she and her grandfather disappeared from view. He went back inside his lodge and emerged again, shortly. His anger was spilling over. He mounted his horse and took off in the opposite direction that Maggie and her grandfather had gone.

~~~~

PART THREE

THE REVELATION

~~~~

CHAPTER 18

Billy and Rio traveled the winding road up the mountain on their way up to Lake Tahoe. Once again, he was driving her car while she rode shotgun.

“Kryptonite” by Three Doors Down poured out over the radio as she admired the mountainous terrain. Rio sang along with the tune while keeping her eye on a black SUV in the side view mirror. The fact that they were being followed hadn’t eluded her. If Turner thought it had, he’d underestimated her.

Prior to reaching the south shore of the lake, they stopped at Vista Point. Many years ago the locale had been turned into a scenic spot with its gigantic boulders scattered all around, many of which were stacked on top of each other. The only thing that had changed since Maggie and Tajan’s day was that modern civilization had built one guard wall against the south side.

Rio sat silently on the man-made railing, gazing out over the magnificent sight before her. The lake stretched for miles in all directions, surrounded in its entirety by the colossal mountains of the Sierra Nevada.

Billy leaned against a huge rock. “You seem to be right at home.”

“I do like it here.” Her eyes stayed glued to the lake. “I can’t quite put my finger on it.” She looked at him. “But I feel a sense of comfort here.”

“This was probably a place where Tajan and Maggie spent much of their time.”

Rio wasn’t her usual spunky self and Billy hadn’t missed out on that. She seemed preoccupied. “Hey, I’m going to go find a bathroom. You want to come?” In his own way, he was offering to leave her alone for a while so she could work out whatever was bothering her.

“I’d like to stay here,” she said. “If you don’t mind.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “I’ll be back soon.”

He walked away and Rio decided to explore the locale. Almost in a daze, she wandered through the area until, unbeknownst to her, she came to the place where Tajan had asked Maggie to marry him and then claimed her as his own.

Rio climbed onto the same boulder the star-crossed lovers had made love on all those years ago. She examined the rock and eased down. Lying on her back, she propped up her feet. She closed her eyes and covered them with her forearm.

Why couldn’t she get the warrior out of her head? Was she losing her mind? He was after all just a face painted on a canvas. Granted, a captivating face, but it was nothing more than that. The man had been dead for over a hundred years. Still, Rio couldn’t stop thinking about him.

A chill breezed through her as she wondered what it must have been like having Tajan looming above her in the throes of passion. Her sexually inspired musings were invaded by the sudden smell of an unusual aroma that seemed almost sweet in a masculine sort of way, and quite unlike anything she’d ever perceived even though it felt familiar.

She could almost swear she felt his lips brush against her cheek. Overwhelmed with the certainty that if she opened her eyes she’d see Tajan, but she didn’t dare try it. Instead, she savored the thought of his tongue exploring her neck in a tantalizing way. She swore she felt his long hair tickling her breasts.

But how was that possible? She wasn’t naked. Rio’s eyes sprang open and she jumped up. Tajan was not there. In fact, no one was there, and that was somehow disheartening. Surveying her surroundings, she saw Billy heading her way from the end of the trail.

She scrambled to cover herself and felt the heat burning her cheeks when she remembered that she was fully clothed. Unable to rid herself of the flush that had fallen over her at the mere thought of—hey, what was that anyway?

Billy stopped at the side of the rock she was sitting on. “Uh oh.” The corner of his lip twisted. “There it is again.”

“What?” She glanced down, making sure she wasn’t actually as naked as she felt. This thing—whatever it was that she’d seen—seemed so real. She could still recall Tajan’s hair tickling her breasts.

“You know…” Billy folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the rock. “That same look you got when you thought you saw yourself getting your picture taken with Maggie’s sisters.”

Rio looked away, defeat swelling inside her.

“What?” Billy laughed nervously. “What happened while I was gone?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, trying to blow it off. “I fell asleep. I was having a dream, I guess.”

“A dream?” He looked at her. “About what?”

“I—” She shook her head “—can’t remember.”

“Well, personally, I think you can. But I’m not going to push you. If you don’t want to talk about it,” he said with a slight nod. “That’s up to you.”

How could she? How could she tell this virtual stranger—a man she also happened to be conning—that she was fantasizing about his third-great grandfather?

~~~~

CHAPTER 19

Rio and Billy sat across from each other in a booth at Grandma Hattie’s, a restaurant that was popular with the locals. And with good reason; they served up excellent food and Rio was growing fond of their blintzes.

Considering Billy’s opinion of Maggie, one would think he’d shy as far away from Rio as he could get. Billy hated Maggie. He hated her for destroying Tajan’s life. That’s the way he saw the story, and no amount of talking could convince him otherwise.

In light of that, being around Rio should be the last thing he’d want. It stood to reason that her being there would seem like his worst nightmare had come to life to haunt him.

But that wasn’t the case, at all. The more time he spent with her, the more he felt drawn and connected to her. And the bond was pure. As far as Billy knew, Rio Laraquette was indeed his cousin. He never thought for a second that that could possibly be a lie.

The waitress sat a hot tea plate down in front of Rio and poured a cup of coffee for Billy. Rio dropped the teabag into the pot and reached for the sugar. Grabbing several packets she ripped them apart and dumped the contents into her empty cup.

Pouring the tea, she cast a stealthful glance across the room. At this point, she hadn’t made eye contact with the two men watching her and Billy from a booth near the entrance. She planned to let them flitter in the wind a little longer. It wasn’t time to let Turner’s goons know that she was on to them.

But she was going to have to tell Billy, sooner or later. Yep, the time was drawing close.

She looked at Billy. “What do you think we should do now?” The thought of finding a bonafide treasure was becoming more and more intriguing.

“We’ve got to figure out how to read that map,” he said. “We’re certainly not going to find anything out until we can do that.”

Rio checked on their tails. They were still there. Without missing a beat, she looked back at Billy. “Yeah, but…” She dipped a spoon into her hot tea and stirred it. “That map makes absolutely no sense at all.” She pointed her spoon at Billy and then laid it on the saucer alongside the cup. “Even your dad says so.”

“Maybe we need to talk to him again.”

“Okay.” She tilted her head to one side. “We’ll go see you’re dad again…if you think it’ll help.”

If somebody didn’t come up with something, the odds of them finding the treasure were pretty much nonexistent. What’d they expect? To just stumble across it? “Well, I’m at a loss,” he said. “Maybe he’s got some ideas.” But in reality, Billy knew he didn’t.

With a new plan, or at least the seeds of a new plan, they finished their breakfast and paid the check and then headed out.

They crossed the parking lot and strode toward Rio’s car. Billy fished her keys out of his Levi’s front pocket and unlocked the door.

Glancing up, she saw the same black SUV that had been following them, the last few days, parked a few spaces over.

Rio and Billy headed to his parents’ house, and she never said a word about the SUV or that they were being followed.

* * *

Bill Tajan had done everything and anything he could think of, all that morning, while trying not to think about what he truly didn’t want to consider. Rio, Maggie and Tajan. He knew the legend but he’d never put much stock into it. Oh, he was all for the romanticized notion of Tajan and Maggie. However, he’d never been real big on the idea that a reincarnated Maggie would come waltzing back into the Washoe people’s lives, dig up that treasure and give it to them.

He’d always been so sure that this particular event was never going to happen. Even now, after his niece had appeared on the scene, he was still trying to convince himself that this sort of thing couldn’t happen. No matter what he tried to convince himself of, the fact remained that here she was in the flesh. Every logical fiber of his being told him that Rio was not Maggie, but his denial gave him little comfort since Rio appeared to be an exact replica of his great great-grandmother.

* * *

Inside the Tajan living room Bill listened to Billy and Rio’s dilemma. Once they’d laid out the facts as they knew them, he paused in silence for the longest time.

Bill cleared his throat and folded his arms over his chest. “Well…” He gave them both a quick look. “The first thing you’ve got to do is stop thinking like Billy and Rio.”

“Excuse me?” Rio’s brow crinkled.

“For starters…you need to start thinking like Tajan and Maggie. Especially Maggie,” he said. “If you were her…where would you bury it?”

“I’d bury it out in the hills,” Billy said.

“Well that sure narrows it down,” Rio’s voice was considerate but sarcastic. “Now doesn’t it?”

Bill planted his hands on the arms of his easy chair and pushed himself up. Heading toward the dining room, he motioned them to follow.

They waited by the table while Bill retrieved a topo map from a cabinet. He spread it out over the table, and Rio shivered, feeling like the portraits of Maggie and Tajan were watching their every move.

Father and son huddled over the map and a rather timid Rio finally joined them.

“Now this is V.C.” Bill pointed out the location out on the map. “And here’s Six Mile Canyon.” He paused long enough to look at Rio, “The Comstock Lode was discovered there. And this is the route they used—” He traced his finger along the map without looking at it. “—to take the gold and silver out of Virginia City.” He looked back to the map and pointed to the area between Virginia City and Silver City referred to as Devil’s Gate. “This is where holdups usually happened.” He waited a moment, giving her time to process the information, and then addressed them both. “So…say you conducted one of these holdups—” He fanned his hand out over the map. “—where would you take your loot and bury it?”

“I don’t know.” Rio shrugged. “Close my eyes and throw a dart?”

* * *

Billy and Rio left his parents’ house by the front door and strolled across the front yard. He unlatched the gate and held it open for her, then relatched it and followed her to his Jeep parked alongside the fence.

“Hey, you want to get a pizza for dinner?” He climbed into the driver’s side of the vehicle.

“Sure.” She flashed him a piss-poor smile before turning to look outside the window.

The girl was shouldering a burden; one that was much too heavy for her delicate shoulders. Billy didn’t know how to help her. He wasn’t sure he could.

“So…” he said, suspecting that she wasn’t there with him. Not mentally. “You like your pizza with some anchovies and maybe a little molded cheese thrown in?” he asked, just to prove to himself that he was right—she wasn’t listening.

“Yeah. Sure. That’s fine.” Her words were vague and methodical as she continued to stare out the window.

“Rio…” He gave her a gentle, backhanded smack on the arm.

“What?” She looked at him, rubbing her arm. A fine actress, that one was.

“You agreed to pizza with anchovies and molded cheese. What gives?”

“Got to admit,” she said. “This new family…the whole history thing with Maggie and Tajan.” She shook her head slowly. “It’s a little overwhelming.”

“Maggie and Tajan were nothing but a recipe for disaster.”

“How could her own grandfather take her away from him?” Rio didn’t understand why it’d had to be that way. And she didn’t like it.

But that story had played out decades ago. No amount of wishing or wanting was going to make it so that things could’ve turned out differently for Maggie and Tajan.

“Bradford Fuller was trying to keep Tajan alive,” Billy said, without much sympathy, as he guided the Jeep into the parking lot of the pizza place.

He and Rio got out and headed inside.

Moments later, they emerged; Billy with the pizza and Rio their sodas.

Approaching the Jeep, Rio surveyed the city around her. She stalled so she could come up with an argument on Maggie and Tajan’s behalf, if for no one other than herself. Instead, she found the two guys who’d been tailing them for days now. She scanned right on by them and got into the Jeep.

As Billy climbed in and closed his door, she leaned toward him. It was time. “We’re being followed,” she whispered, as if someone might hear her.

“I know,” he said with a slight nod. “For a few days now.” He hesitated, choosing his words wisely. “Any idea who it is?”

“Nobody I know,” she said, rolling her eyes. That much was true.

After they arrived back at Billy’s house, she opened the Jeep’s door and looked at him. She knew what she had to do. “Hey listen,” she said, digging for the keys inside her purse. “I’m going to go over to that Wal-Mart I saw at the end of town. I need to pick up a few things.”

“Okay.” He removed a key from his key ring. “Here.” He offered it to her. “A house key for you.”

She took the key and stuck one leg outside the vehicle and planted her foot on the ground.

“But listen…why don’t you come inside and eat first?” he suggested. “Wal-Mart is open all night.”

She hesitated before saying, “Okay.” Besides, that’d give her time to cool off.

Boy, she needed that. She was pretty pissed right now. She’d told Turner not to put the tail on them, but he’d gone and done it anyway. The unwanted company wasn’t helping.

Rio took the time to eat but it didn’t do much for her need to calm down. By the time she arrived at Wal-Mart she’d worked herself up pretty good.

She headed for the pre-paid cell phones and snatched up one that came with less than thirty minutes. She wouldn’t need a quarter of that time to get her point across. She paid for the cell phone, asked the clerk to open it up and he obliged her further by assembling the device as a courtesy.

She walked away from the phone center, pushing her cart with one hand and holding the phone in the other. She headed for the health and beauty isle, knowing that’s what all men expected girls to buy when they went to a store like Wal-Mart. That and clothes.

After passing a few racks of dresses, she paused long enough to dial Turner’s number and then proceeded through the store at a snail’s pace, waiting for him to answer her call.

When she finally heard his voice, infuriation pushed out her words. “It’s Rio. Back them off now.”

“Rio…surely you can understand that I’m protecting my investment.” Turner’s voice was condescending. That pissed her off even more.

“And surely you can understand that I work alone.”

“They’re there. For the duration.”

“Well, you just make sure they don’t approach us claiming to know me.” She let her anger bite her tone. “Cause if they do…I’m out and Billy Tajan learns the truth.”

Rio moved the phone away from her head and looked at it. Turner’s boisterous voice echoed from the device but she only laughed and disconnected the call.

The Las Vegas mobster was under the mistaken impression that he was still in charge. But that’d changed the minute she realized she was the key to this plan’s success.

She went about her business, loading her cart with enough items to make it look good, and headed for the check-out. After all, she couldn’t return to Billy’s house empty-handed.

Detail. That’s one of the things that made Rio so good at what she did.

~~~~

CHAPTER 20

Billy lived in a quiet neighborhood. His house was clearly a man’s home, furnished with only the essentials. If Billy didn’t need it, he didn’t have it. His décor wasn’t exceptional, but it was efficient. It just lacked a “woman’s touch”.

He grabbed a couple of cold beers from the fridge and headed into the living room where Rio was waiting. They needed to figure out how to read the map. But more than that, Billy wanted to know who was following them. And better yet, how they knew to follow them in the first place.

On the other hand, while Rio didn’t know who the guys were, she did know why they were there. She just couldn’t tell Billy.

This thing had to play itself out and she would try her best not to let the Tajans get too caught up in it.

“The first thing we’ve got to do is figure out how to deal with our guests.” Billy handed her a beer. “They seem to be showing up everywhere we go.” He sat down in the chair kitty-cornered from the couch, twisted the cap off his beer and tossed it on the table.

“Either someone knows what we’re up to,” she said. “Or they want something from us. Either way, I got nothing I’m willing to part with.”

“Ever been on a snipe hunt?”

“Once…when I was a kid.” The thought of it burned a whole in her ego. “But I wasn’t in on the joke.”

Rio tried to push the memory aside but it filled her mind anyway. The counselors at summer camp, back when she was about eleven or twelve, had everyone excited about the notion of a snipe hunt. She’d never even heard of a snipe much less gone hunting for one. She had no idea what the damned thing was but she wanted to fit in so she mustered up some enthusiasm for the sport just as everyone else had done—only to learn much later on that the joke was on her.

“Well…” Billy’s voice broke into her thoughts, “this time you’re in on the joke.” He laughed triumphantly. “We’re going to lead them on the biggest wild goose chase ever. By the time it’s over...they won’t know if they’re coming or going.”

Rio gave him an agreeable nod. “I do like the way you think.”

* * *

The wild goose chase began in a place called Clear Creek Canyon. Billy stopped the Jeep on the side of the road. He and Rio exited the vehicle and she followed him across the road.

Massive cliffs protruding from the mountain above loomed over them. The sound of rushing water rumbled nearby, an indication that the creek was running strong.

They paused on the side of the road. Rio peered down into the ravine. The thunderous roar of an aggressive waterfall echoed, giving away its hiding place behind a mass of thick brush and trees.

That strange chill hit Rio again. At first thought she wanted to run, but she was able to quickly cast aside the bizarre sensation.

Billy grabbed her hand and coaxed her down the side of the embankment. There it was again, that cool, brisk frost rushing through her. Almost instantly, the chill turned into nerve-racking apprehension. Rio’s attention fell over the landscape, studying it intently. She was drawn to the gigantic cliffs above them.

For a reason that she couldn’t explain, fear washed over her. Desperation urged her to leave the ravine. “I’ve got to get out of here.” She used her hands, trying to climb out. “Please...?” A pleading quality entered her tone as she began sliding back down. “Help me get out of here.” Her voice shook.

“It’s okay.” Billy reached for her. “What’s wrong?”

Rio jerked away, dropped to her knees and crawled up to the road. “I can’t stay here,” she said, reaching the top of the embankment. “I don’t know why…but I can’t be here.”

Billy scaled the embankment easily. “Hey, Rio. You okay?”

She didn’t stop. She didn’t look at him. She kept moving forward, determined to get across the road and back to the Jeep.

“Rio...!” Billy called after her, more forceful this time.

“Please, take me away from here...” She didn’t bother to look at him; she got in the Jeep and stared straight ahead. And no way she was going to look back across the road. Something about that place creeped her out.

Billy climbed into the driver’s seat and looked at Rio. “You know where you are,” he asked, “don’t you?”

“I have no idea where I am,” she said, short-tempered. “But what I do know is, I cannot stay here. I don’t know why, but I feel like I’m going to die here.”

“Rio, calm down.” He laid a gentle hand on her forearm. “You’re not going to die here. This is where Maggie and Tajan died.”

Rio’s lungs tightened. She gasped for air, grabbing at her chest. She didn’t want to but she couldn’t help herself; she looked back across the road. Two eagles flew up out of the ravine. Watching them soar away, her breathing eased.

As if staring at them through a haze, the birds seemed to dance playfully in the sky. She pointed to them and looked at Billy. “Did you see that?”

“What?”

“The birds.”

“No...” Billy gazed at the sky through the windshield. “I don’t see any birds,” he said, but continued to look for them.

But the eagles were gone.

He turned the key and started the engine. As he steered the Jeep onto the road and rounded the first curve, the same black SUV was parked on the side of the road.

Both Rio and Billy eyed their unwanted company as they passed them by.

~~~~

CHAPTER 21

Billy rolled out his father’s topo map across his dining room table. He pinned the edges down with a couple of mugs and the salt and pepper shakers.

“The snipe hunt is a good idea,” she said. “It’s a good cover while we try and figure out where the treasure’s buried.”

“We can lead them on a wild goose chase...day in and day out.” That wasn’t hard. Nobody knew these hills like Billy.

“So, where do we start?”

“Want to close your eyes and throw a dart?” he asked with a broad smile.

“Very funny.” She rolled her eyes and chuckled.

There wasn’t any rhyme—although there was some reason—to the next few steps they chose to take. All Billy knew was, there were some guys following them around and he had no idea why. He could easily guess they were after something. But didn’t know what. He didn’t have anything for anybody to want. Not as far as he could see. So, they must want what he was after.

By now, the thought that Rio may know more than she was letting on hadn’t crossed his mind. Maybe he’d been a bit suspicious of her in the beginning, but his father trusted her and that was good enough for him. Besides, now that he’d gotten to know her he felt a certain sort of kinship with her. There was a connection between them. One that ran so much deeper than the treasure they were after. Billy assumed it was because they were cousins.

In the course of their snipe hunt, they picked out random sights and started digging. The way Billy saw it; if the bad guys didn’t do anything but watch them dig, that’d say a lot about their motives.

While Turner’s goons watched from afar, Rio found it easy to lead them around at will. Billy chose sites, ones that made it convenient for their friends to watch from afar—which is exactly what they did, and nothing more.

Billy had started to think that maybe someone had overheard them somewhere along the way, and decided to wait until he and Rio found the treasure before making their move. If that were the case, he was determined to confuse them and guide them in the direction he wanted them to go. He figured it was the least he could do since they were determined to let him do all the dirty work.

Billy and Rio instigated a well-thought-out plan. They’d picked out a spot, gone up to it and started digging. After awhile he threw the shovel down, she’d reciprocated and they started pointing at each other and waving their hands in the air.

From a distance, it looked like they were arguing. And for Turner’s goons, Taylor and Biggs, it seemed real. At least through a pair of binoculars.

But how long could this wild goose chase continue? Sooner or later, even the dumbest of dimwits would eventually catch on. Ultimately, Rio and Billy knew they had to come up with a better plan. For instance, one that would actually lead them to the treasure would be nice.

If they figured out how to find the treasure though, they’d also have to come up with a plan to deal with their “friends”.

Billy was going to have to be the brains behind this operation because, these days, Rio had a one-track mind. She was even on the verge of starting to feel guilty about deceiving the Tajan family.

But Rio had become completely captivated by the story of Maggie and Tajan—she couldn’t help herself. All she wanted to do was learn more about the couple’s ill-fated romance. Then there was that thing with the pictures up in Virginia City, as well as the remarkable incident on the boulder up at Lake Tahoe. And it was all topped off by the way she freaked out at the site where Maggie and Tajan died.

Somewhere in the dark recesses of her mind, Rio got that there were strange things happening to her. But she was much too consumed with the tragic love story to let her brain flag the mysterious peculiarities as a problem.

~~~~

PART FOUR

THE REUNION

~~~~

CHAPTER 22

Maggie and her sisters grew up on their grandfather’s farm in central California. Their father had run off when her mother was pregnant with Mary. At the time, Maggie was six and Molly was three. As a result, Maggie was the only one who had any real memories of their father. Their mother died of a fever when Maggie was ten. Being the eldest, it was put upon her to take on part of the responsibilities for her younger sisters, right alongside her grandfather.

But things had changed. Maggie was all grown up and Molly was dead. Carrying on without Molly was one of the hardest undertakings Maggie and Mary would ever face. They weren’t weak women though, so they mourned their sister and then got on with the business of living.

The first few weeks back home were pure hell for Maggie. She missed Tajan something fierce. It was hard not talking to him, or seeing his smile, or feeling his touch. Lost and alone, she was sure she was destined to live a lifetime of emptiness.

Then something wonderful happened. Like a gift from heaven, she discovered she was pregnant. She saw the baby as a gift from God, sent specifically to help ease the pain of her loss.

In February of 1864, Maggie gave birth to a baby boy whom she named Tajan, after his father. Because her own father had disappeared from her life, not a day went by that she didn’t feel guilty and remorseful for depriving her son of his father.

She missed Tajan so much that her misery was like a steel weight. But every time she looked into her baby’s eyes, the child did help to ease the sorrow. If only a little bit.

While Maggie had spent the entire winter preparing for the birth of her child, Tajan had spent it trying to get over losing her. He hadn’t had much success. The thing that had made it so hard was he was trapped. During the winter months the mountainous terrain was harsh on the tribe. Every year, as the fall brought on cooler weather, the people began their preparations for the unforgiving snowbound winter to come. The entire camp would pack up, disperse and move down into the valley areas along the Nevada side of the lake. Trekking over that mountain wasn’t an option during the winter.

By the time spring broke, the snow had eased up in the hills and Tajan talked himself into going after Maggie. He’d made up his mind. He was either going to bring her back here to live with him among his people, or they would strike out on their own. But either way they’d be together, and she’d be back where she belonged. With him.

* * *

On a spring day in April, when baby Tajan was about two months old, Maggie was outside tending to the task of hanging the freshly washed laundry out in the warm California sun. Several rows of clothing, including baby articles and sheets, swayed in the wind.

Maggie was among the rows of laundry hanging clothes and such on the line. Baby Tajan cooed in the basket on the ground next to her. She looked at him and smiled. “Hi sweetie…” she crooned, “are you having a good time outside with Momma?”

The baby had been Maggie’s saving-grace. If God hadn’t seen fit to bless her with this beautiful baby boy, she would’ve never been able to get over the heartbreak of losing Tajan.

Her sister Mary had been out in the garden gathering vegetables. Heading back toward the house, she was the first to see the Indian on horseback riding their way.

She did a quick scan of the horizon and felt a measure of relief that he appeared to be alone. “Maggie…” She kept her voice low and calm.

Maggie peered out over the line of laundry and gasped at the sight of the figure off in the distance. She knew it was Tajan. She looked down at the baby and said with a smile, “Your Daddy’s here.”

Emerging from the clothesline maze, she headed out to meet him. At first she took casual steps, but that didn’t last long as her need to be in his arms got the better of her. Tossing her pride aside, she ran to him.

Tajan slid off his horse and rushed toward her, swinging her into the circle of his arms. He was overcome with a long-awaited sense of relief. When her tears fell, he kissed them away.

“You’re here…” she whispered, caressing the length of his hair. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Maggie’s cheeks warmed as he pressed his lips against hers. But before giving in to her powerful need to get lost in him, she managed to break the spell. “I have someone I want you to meet.” She contained her enthusiasm as she tugged at his hand, leading him back toward the house.

They strolled together, arm in arm, not seeing or caring about anything but each other. Approaching the clotheslines, she clutched his hand tighter and led him into the maze. The baby was still resting quietly in the basket where she’d left him. She picked him up and turned to Tajan. “This is your son.”

“My son?” Tajan’s words were in English and they came weaker than he’d anticipated. But that didn’t stop him from taking the baby and embracing him within the security of his arms. “My son.” He peered down at him. “You and my son will return with me,” he said to Maggie while still gazing at the baby.

“Yes.” Maggie’s answer was delivered quickly and with certainty. “We’ll go with you. But I want to wait until my grandfather returns. Will you stay here with me until he gets back?”

Tajan’s smile seemed to reach out and caress her cheek. He pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers with a sweet, gentle kiss. “You give him name?”

“Like his father,” she said, “his name is Tajan.”

That didn’t make much sense to Tajan. As far as he could see, the child needed his own identity. It wasn’t his custom to label a child as an extension of oneself. Even so, he agreed because that’s what Maggie wanted. If naming their son after him made her happy, then he was more than willing to accommodate her. He simply chalked the naming practice up to another one of the white man’s crazy ways.

* * *

Maggie’s eyes flew open. There was nothing but complete silence and darkness. Emerging from her slumber, she realized that she was in her bed. Her next lucid insight was that Tajan wasn’t in the bed with her. She sprang up, trying to recall some little something to prove that his arrival hadn’t been a dream. Scanning the room, she saw him sleeping peacefully on the floor.

She pulled a couple of blankets down onto the floor and made herself a pallet. Pulling another quilt off the bed, she snuggled up next to him and spread the cover over them.

Tajan stirred. His eyes remained closed as a smile curled on the tips of his mouth. He slid his arm around her. “I am sorry.” He opened his eyes. “The white man’s bed is much soft.”

Maggie laid her finger against his lips. “Shh…it doesn’t matter. You’re here now and that’s all that matters.” She kissed him with a hunger that contradicted her outward calm.

“I could not stay away,” The caress of his lips lips sent the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl. “You promise me—” His voice hardened. “—you do not leave again.”

Maggie giggled. “You may live to regret that some day.” Her head fit perfectly in the hollow between his shoulder and neck. “Death is the only thing that will ever take me away from you again.”

~~~~

CHAPTER 23

Bradford Fuller returned the next day. Maggie and Mary greeted him on the back porch and coaxed him with a gentle reverence to get him into the living room.

As soon as his gaze fell upon Tajan, anxiety flickered on his face like a candle’s flame sputtering in the wind. Maggie fidgeted. Her grandfather was going to object to her returning to the tribe with Tajan. She didn’t want to go against him, but she hadn’t the strength to leave Tajan again.

Bradford didn’t have anything against Tajan personally. As a matter of fact, he liked him very well. The issue was not Tajan’s heritage.

He couldn’t get past the feeling that Maggie would be found out up there, being so close to the scene of the crime and Molly’s death. If a trader got a look at her, he’d associate her with the woman killed during the bank robbery because Maggie and Molly looked so much alike. Therefore, she’d be deemed one of Molly’s accomplices who’d gotten away.

“Tajan…” Bradford made sure his tone kept to an even keel. “How are your parents?”

“They are good,” Tajan said in English.

“I must say…” Bradford paused to rein in his concern, which could easily end up sounding like intolerance if he wasn’t careful. “I’m rather surprised to see you here.”

Tajan straightened his stature. “I come for my wife.”

“Look, Tajan… I got nothing against you.” An anguished tone accompanied Bradford’s words. “Under different circumstances I’d be honored to have you as my grandson-in-law. But being anywhere near her—” He pointed to Maggie. “—puts you in great danger. And I think too much of you and your parents to let that happen.”

“If I die tomorrow…it will be worth it.” He looked at Maggie and a smile touched his mouth. “Just to be with her today.”

Maggie had been silent up until now. “With all due respect, Grandfather…Tajan and I have discussed the consequences of our actions,” she said. “And in the end, we’d rather risk discovery than to live apart. And I won’t keep him away from his son any longer.”

“All right.” Bradford sensed that further argument was useless. He gave in, although against his better judgment. “It sounds like you’ve already made up your minds.” He glanced back and forth between them. “I won’t stand in your way.” He gave them a smile that was backed by misgivings. “You have my blessings.”

In truth, Bradford had a lot of objections. But his eldest granddaughter had inherited a great deal of the Fuller stubbornness. She’d made up her mind, and there’d be no talking her out of what she was hell-bent on doing.

And now there was the baby involved. Every child deserved to have both a mother and a father. Bradford had seen firsthand what his son’s running off had done to Maggie and her sisters. So, with a bit of reluctance, he wished the couple well.

* * *

Bradford sat at the head of the table, with Mary and Maggie on either side of him and Tajan beside Maggie. Tajan found the white man’s chair to be as unnerving as their bed.

“My big regret is that we weren’t able to recover Molly’s body and give her a proper burial,” Maggie’s eyes moistened with tears.

The white man’s burial practices—another custom that Tajan didn’t understand. But it was important to Maggie. She’d expressed concern over it just last night, wondering what her mother and her sister would think of the lack of a funeral for her sister.

“Is there no way to find out what happened to her?”

“We made inquiries, but nothing’s ever come of it.” Bradford shook his head. “My guess is that she was buried at the back of the cemetery in Carson City…or maybe they took her out to Chinatown. That wouldn’t surprise me.”

The uncertainty of Molly’s plight seemed to slice through Mary, rattling her shoulders. She let out a muffling sound that faded away before she asked, “What do you want to do about the gold and silver we buried?”

“Get me a pencil and some paper,” Maggie said.

Mary reached for the bureau behind her and came back to the table with the items Maggie had requested.

Maggie scribbled on one side of the paper under the dim glow of an oil lamp. She stopped and looked at her handiwork and then folded the paper over and over and drew a likeness of the area where she and her sisters had buried the treasure. She unfolded the paper and ripped it in half. Glancing up with a smile, she handed half to Mary.

The map was Maggie’s token of assurance that she wouldn’t make an attempt to reclaim the treasure without her sister.

“Next summer,” Maggie said to Mary. “I want you to come to the lake…Grandfather will show you where. And we’ll go get the treasure.”

“Better yet,” Mary said, “why don’t you dig it up and bring me my half? If I never step foot in that place again, it won’t bother me a bit.”

Maggie looked at Tajan and he nodded his approval. She turned back to Mary. “All right. Next summer we’ll bring you your half.”

~~~~

CHAPTER 24

Tajan and Maggie approached the tribal campsite on horseback. She carried the baby in a cradleboard on her back. Chatter quickly buzzed through the encampment, bringing everyone out to greet the couple.

Timeko and Lela appeared from inside their lodge. Upon seeing Tajan and Maggie, Timeko flashed a concerned look at his son. Lela’s face spread into a genuine smile.

Tajan slid off his horse easily and helped Maggie down. He unstrapped the baby from the cradleboard on Maggie’s back. Scooping the baby into his arms, he moved toward his parents. “Father, mother…” he spoke in the Washoe’s native language. “this is my son.”

Lela took the baby and cradled him in her arms. Looking down at her grandson, she smiled and then let her gaze travel back to her husband’s. “You see it, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Timeko nodded.

She looked at Maggie. “He look like Tajan…as baby.”

Timeko focused on Maggie. “You stay,” he said in English. “Leave no more.”

“Sir…” Maggie swallowed over the lump in her throat. “I’ll never go anywhere without Tajan…ever again.”

* * *

Things would have been fine if it hadn’t been for that trapper Trader John happening upon the Washoe camp on a fine summer’s day a couple of months later.

Maggie had adapted easily and quickly to wearing the Indian garb once again. Still, the white man’s scenic drawings enticed her. She wasn’t alone. The stranger’s pictures had drawn the attention of several tribe members, including Tajan.

“Are you the artist?” Maggie asked the trader.

“Yes ma’am,” he said. “I am.”

“Do you paint, too?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”

“Could you paint me?” She pointed to herself and then Tajan. “And my husband?”

“Yes, I can.” He nodded. “If the price is right.”

Maggie smiled to herself. There was no way the trader’s price was going to be more than she had. She had the money from the bank robbery in Carson City.

* * *

Even though Tajan had been against the idea of having his and Maggie’s paintings done—he’d thought it would somehow capture his soul and lock it inside his likeness on the canvas—but Maggie had wanted it and he found it difficult saying ‘no’ to her. The couple ended up with two fine-looking portraits.

Maggie surveyed the paintings with extreme pleasure. Once she was able to tear her gaze away from Tajan’s portrait, she turned to the trader. “Sir, I cannot thank you enough.” She fanned her hand in front of the paintings. “They’re beautiful.”

Trader John stared at Maggie with a curious eye. “Payment of the agreed upon fee will be thanks enough.”

Maggie offered him a pouch containing gold coins.

He snatched up the small bag and dumped the contents into his hand. Coins spilled into his palm. He glanced back at her and grinned. “Thank you kindly.”

After collecting his bounty, Trader John wasted no time in heading for Carson City. He was looking for a poker game and a good, stiff drink. It’d been a long time since he’d had enough money to back both his obsessions. Finally, he was certain he’d have the luck he thought he so richly deserved.

Tying his horse to the post outside the saloon, he headed for the door with an air of confidence that was typically foreign to him. About to enter the establishment—which he figured would reward his good fortune—he stopped abruptly, eyeing the wanted poster hanging outside the entrance.

A crude drawing of a girl—who looked a lot like the white woman he’d painted up at the lake—seemed to stare out at him from the announcement. The thing that spoke to him the most was that it offered a five hundred dollar reward for any known associates.

Could things possibly get any better for him? Trader John rubbed his chin and smiled. He turned and hurried across the street, giggling as he entered the sheriff’s office.

The sheriff looked up from his desk, but Trader John’s attention was drawn past him and directly up to the wanted poster on the wall behind the lawman.

“That’s her!” he exclaimed, pointing to the poster. “I seen her the other day.”

The sheriff’s face skewed into a shrewd look and then he twisted around glancing over his shoulder. “Well, that’d be kind of hard.” He turned back to look at Trader John. “Unless you’re in the habit of seeing ghosts!” He gave him a swift chuckle and a stern glare. “She’s dead.” His words seemed to fall around Trader John like dust settling from a sand storm. “But she did have a couple of accomplices and that’s who we’re looking for.”

“I’m telling you, sheriff—” He gestured toward Lake Tahoe. “—there’s a woman up at the lake with them Indians, and she looks like that woman up there.” He gave the wanted poster a nod.

The sheriff drew a breath and slanted his mouth with a crooked frown. “Maybe they’re sisters.” He shrugged. “All right...I’ll gather up a posse and we’ll check it out.” The sheriff pushed himself up from his desk.

“What about the reward?” Trader John asked.

“If it turns out that you’re right,” the sheriff said conditionally, making his way around the desk. “You’ll get your reward.”

“All five hundred?”

“All five hundred.” The sheriff’s assurance was accompanied by soft laughter.

~~~~

PART FIVE

THE AWAKENING

~~~~

CHAPTER 25

Billy let out a sigh as he glanced over at Rio. They were in his living room, the pizza box was empty, and they weren’t any closer to finding their way to the treasure.

“So...” She cut her eyes toward him. “How are we going to figure out where the treasure is?”

“Well at this point, the map, even in its entirety, is absolutely no help at all.”

“Billy...” her tone sobered. “We could spend the rest of our lives digging up random spots and never come close to finding the right place.”

“Then we’d better find another way.”

“I’m all out of ideas.” As far as she was concerned, Turner’s goons were the least of their worries. She knew how to deal with them. What she didn’t know how to deal with was the fact that she and Billy couldn’t figure out where to look for the treasure. Not to mention, all the weird stuff that had been going on since she’d arrived in Carson City.

Billy sat silently for a time. When he finally did speak, it was with a bit of disinclination. “There might be a way,” he said with a hint of secrecy. “But it’s kind of unorthodox.”

“How unorthodox?”

“It involves ingesting a controlled substance.”

“Maybe you better spell it out for me.”

“There’s a ritual that’s practiced by many Native Americans. Not so much around here,” he said. “But I do understand that great results can come from it.”

“Okay.” She hated being teased. “The suspense is killing me. Out with it.”

“It’s called a vision quest. You have a better chance of actually experiencing one though, if you use peyote.” He looked at her, much too calmly for what he was suggesting. “Or so I’m told.”

“Peyote?” She rolled her eyes and couldn’t help laughing. “Well, let’s run right on down to the corner drug store and grab—” She threw her hands in the air. “—how much did you say we’ll need?” Her fixed eyes glared at him. “Are you nuts?”

“I think I know somebody...that knows somebody.” His voice was so calm that it surprised even him—considering what he was suggesting. “I think we can get some.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“At this point...” He shrugged, feeling defeated. “I have no clue how to find that treasure.”

“Could you maybe elaborate a bit?” She looked deep into his eyes, as if she’d find a reason inside them to hop on board with his crazy plan. “Give me some idea about what we’d be in for...if we decided to go through with this?”

“Well, we’d need to go somewhere up in the hills or something so we wouldn’t be disturbed,” he said, making it up as he went along. “Then we’ll take the peyote and wait.”

“Wait? Wait for what?”

“Your vision. Sometimes it starts out as your worst fears confronting you.” He cut his eyes toward her. “But eventually a spirit guide will join you.”

“Really?” There was so much skepticism in her tone that, were it tangible, it would’ve been dripping out of the corners of her mouth by now. “And you think this spirit guide is going to tell us where the treasure is?”

“Well, if we get lucky enough to have Maggie or Tajan as a guide…” The confidence in his tone diminished and his voice trailed off. But that mattered little to Rio. Her thoughts were elsewhere.

Centered totally around Tajan. Was it possible? Was there a chance that Tajan could be her guide?

Well hell! Billy should’ve said so in the first place. She didn’t need to hear anything more to induce her to throw caution into the wind. Now she was ready and willing to partake of illegal drugs in the hopes of catching another glimpse of Tajan.

~~~~

CHAPTER 26

Having the option of peyote dumped in her lap, and the thought of a visit from Tajan had filled her with anticipation and left her tossing and turning. Her inability to get a good night’s rest brought out an unwelcome dream about her past.

Rio’s past. Not Maggie’s.

At the age of eight, her father had sat her down one afternoon after she got home from school and broke the news to her—her mother had left them.

Shocked, Rio sat there for the longest time, thinking maybe it was a joke and her father was going to take it back. Not necessarily because she wanted her mother to stick around—more to the point, she was afraid her father would blame her. She didn’t want him to get mad at her and go away, too.

But her father didn’t take it back.

“Daddy…did Mommy leave because of me?” If it was her fault she wanted to know that right away.

She figured that must certainly be the case. Even at the age of eight, she knew how much her mother hated her. But what she didn’t know—was why. She’d tried so hard; she’d attempted anything and everything she could think of to please her mother. But nothing Rio ever did seemed to make any difference to her mother.

“No, honey,” her father reassured her in the softest of comforting voices. “It wasn’t because of you.”

“Is she coming back?” she asked, but deep down inside Rio knew she wasn’t.

“No, honey.” Her father cleared his throat. “She’s not coming back.”

Silent tears fell from her eyes, but they weren’t for the loss of her mother. She was just thankful her father wasn’t mad at her. And should the truth be known; if her father didn’t mind that her mother was gone, then neither did she. What was to miss about the spiteful attitude?

~~~~

CHAPTER 27

Billy had a serious look on his face as he entered the house through the front door, carrying a brown paper bag.

Rio was on her feet before he’d made it halfway across the room. “You get it?”

“Yeah.” He nodded and laid the bag on the coffee table. “He said we shouldn’t do it alone. So I guess we should have someone watching out for us while we’re under the influence.”

“So …” Rio struggled to breath around the lump clogging her throat. “I’m supposed to trust a complete stranger to not only watch out for me.” She tried reasoning it out so she could convince herself it was something that was okay to do. “But also...not invade my personal well-being while I’m out of my mind?” Her thoughts barely made it out in her shaky voice.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Then you’re going to have to trust me when I tell you that I’d never consciously place you in danger.” There was so much determination in his eyes that she almost believed it. “If you want to continue looking for the treasure, this is the only hope we have.”

The only hope? That’s it? They were out of options?

And then there was the warrior. She definitely wasn’t going to see him any other way...unless she died, and she didn’t want to go there.

“Okay.” Rio changed her tune quickly. “What’s next?” She wanted to find the treasure and she needed to see Tajan. She couldn’t explain it or even understand it entirely, but somehow she felt her life depended upon seeing him again.

* * *

Billy and Rio sat across from his parents at the elder Tajans’ dining room table. He explained their plan, while Rio tried to ignore the paintings of Maggie and Tajan—mostly Tajan. It felt like they were staring down on her.

“Billy...” The senior Tajan shook his head. “I don’t see how I can be a party to this. You’re talking about performing a ritual that neither I nor your mother approve of.”

“Dad...Rio and I are going to do this thing with or without your support,” he said. “What I’m asking of you is...that you and Mom be there with us when we do. I need to know that you’ll be there to take care of Rio.”

Bill studied his son for a moment. He’d never seen Billy quite so dedicated to anything. Oh sure, he was a hard worker, and he had always done a great job of taking care of himself. But this was different. Bill decided that maybe his sister’s daughter coming into their lives, even though she did have an uncanny resemblance to their ancestor, was perhaps the best thing that could’ve happened to Billy.

His son had always had more than his share of love showered upon him from the family, but that didn’t stop Billy from feeling isolated. No one else in the family had white skin, until Rio happened upon them.

“You and Rio have bonded.” It was a realization, more than anything else, for Bill.

“You could say that,” Billy said with a half-nod. His trademark, and unconscious, gesture when he was trying to play it cool. “I feel a certain kinship with her.” He looked at his mother. “She is, after all, my cousin.”

In the end, Bill and Carole had agreed, with a bit of reluctance, to accompany Billy and Rio on their mission. Even so, after the kids had left, Bill was having trouble with the idea of summoning a spirit guide to help them find the treasure. He had been, and still was, pacing the length of the living room while Carole sat nearby on the couch.

“What will you do?” she asked, hands folded in her lap.

Bill stopped. “I really don’t have a choice.” He glanced at his wife. “Do I?”

“Actually…yes, you do,” she challenged him. “You can either do it or not.” Her summation made it all sound so simple.

“Well unfortunately, what I can’t do...is tell our son what to do anymore.” With that notion he started pacing again. “I don’t want him to do this thing. But he’s clearly made up his mind. And I can’t send our son and my sister’s daughter out there all alone. This thing might turn out to be their worst nightmare.”

“Then again,” Carole said, “maybe they’ll find what they’re looking for.”

~~~~

CHAPTER 28

Across the Washoe lands, specific areas had been deemed divine locations long ago and were still widely recognized as sacred sites for conducting consecrated ceremonies. The Tajans had opted to follow tradition and use one of those sites in their attempt to induce a vision quest.

After selecting Hot Springs Mountain, Rio, Billy, his parents and several tribal members—Billy’s most trusted friends—headed out in Jeeps and Pickups. The ride was off-road. They climbed the mountain for more than half an hour after leaving the last remnants of a would-be trail.

Arriving at their destination, everyone emerged from the vehicles simultaneously. The black SUV following the party had not gone unnoticed.

Carole approached Billy. “What about those men following us?”

“They want what we’re after.” Billy shook his head. “I doubt they’ll bother us until we find it.”

The group set up camp in a clearing snuggled securely within a wooded area at the top of the mountain. In no time they had several tents pitched and then began concentrating on forming a five-foot circle made of rocks. In the center they dug a fire pit. They’d brought firewood with them, and now a couple of the guys began unloading it from the truck.

Rio stood alone, leaning against Billy’s Jeep. In her preoccupied state she was a bit apprehensive about their plans, but she was doing a good job of hiding it. She wanted so badly for Tajan to show up in her vision, but she was afraid she wanted it too much. Rio had learned a long time ago not to want things. When you want things you’re vulnerable. She knew nothing good could come from this...but still, she longed to see Tajan.

By the time the sun drifted behind the mountains, a fire was blazing in the pit. Rio might have found the mountain’s summit spooky if she hadn’t been so anxious and preoccupied.

A distinct chill had settled around her so she grabbed a blanket from the jeep and headed toward the fire. She stepped over the rocks, entering the sacred circle and methodically laid out her blanket near the fire.

“God, I’m so hungry.” Her stomach grumbled as she sat down.

Billy was already sitting on the bare ground on the other side of the fire. “Sorry, dear...” He chuckled. “Your dinner is limited tonight.”

“How come we can’t have any food?” It wasn’t so much a question as a complaint.

“Don’t you know anything about fasting?”

Apparently not.

“So what happens if I can’t hold this stuff down?” Rio asked.

“From what I understand,” Billy said, almost laughing, “it’d be really surprising if you did.”

The farther the sun sank behind Lake Tahoe, the cooler the temperatures dipped on the mountaintop. Even so, no one but Billy and Rio was allowed inside the sacred circle, unless the fire needed tending. If that were the case, Bill stepped cautiously over the border, but only long enough to fuel the blaze with more firewood. Once he’d done that, he’d step back out just as carefully as he’d stepped in.

To avoid as much outside contamination as possible, they’d stoke the fire prior to the ingestion of the peyote. The others lingered outside the circle while Billy and Rio choked down about a dozen buttons between the two of them.

Soon, less than half an hour later, Rio wasn’t feeling so hot. She stretched out on the blanket and let out a whimpering moan. “Oh, my God…I think I’m going to be sick…” Rio’s words trailed off.

Carole sat a bucket at Rio’s side without stepping inside the circle. Rio pushed up from the ground and latched onto the bucket, with barely enough time to pull it into her lap before she started vomiting.

Carole passed a moist towel to Rio.

“You okay, Rio?” Bill asked calmly.

“Yeah…” she muttered.

Billy glanced through the fire at Rio. He wished he could go to sleep. Maybe that way he could ward off the nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wondered briefly if it’d been rocks instead of peyote that he’d eaten. Then the sickening sensation emerged and crept up his chest. He gagged and grabbed the bucket someone had placed at his side.

Rio dropped down onto the blanket again and curled up. She closed her eyes and drew her hands up, using them as a pillow.

Billy sat cross-legged on the bare ground, staring mindlessly into the fire. His eyes had dried up from a lack of moisture. They stung. He lowered his head, closed his eyes and rubbed his eyelids.

After what seemed like an eternity, at least to him, he opened them back up and looked around. He was no longer sitting by the fire. Now he was standing on the edge of a jagged cliff. From out of nowhere, Tajan effortlessly climbed up from the side of the ridge.

“Hello, Billy,” he said with a smile. Tajan’s greeting came in perfect English.

“Is this a dream?” Billy asked. Taking a peek over the edge, he saw nothing but a straight drop into darkness that seemed to go on forever. “How’d you do that?” He looked back at Tajan. Billy’s newfound cousin was at Tajan’s side, but she was dressed in Indian garb. “Rio?”

“Close.” The girl shook her head. “But no.” She giggled. “Well, actually that’s not altogether true. We are, after all, one and the same...but I’m here as Maggie.”

“You and Rio are the same person?” The ability to be shocked or surprised by this episode was just beyond Billy’s reach. And so was the knowledge that he had achieved his goal. He was in the midst of a vision quest.

“We share the same soul.” Maggie clarified her relationship to Rio.

Tajan cleared his throat. “There are two things I need to tell you,” he said to Billy. “First, you need to stop hating the color of your skin. Be proud of who and what you are. Secondly, you need to stop blaming Maggie for my death.” His tone softened as his eyes drifted to her. “She died too.”

“But if it wasn’t for her,” Billy said, “you wouldn’t have died.”

“My life was short.” Tajan’s eyes were still on Maggie and his whole face had broken into a smile. “But it was worth a million lifetimes.” His smile faded as he turned back to Billy. “It was my destiny to protect her. It was also my destiny to die with her.”

Billy stared at Maggie. Her resemblance to Rio was uncanny. Every curl of her fiery hair. Every curve defining her face. Every sparkle in her jade-green eyes. He’d never seen anything like it—a resemblance so striking—and he couldn’t get over it.

“I have to go,” Tajan said to Billy. “But before I do, there’s something I want to show you.”

Without any warning at all, Tajan stepped inside Billy’s body. Billy gasped at the jolt. Somehow, he thought he now knew what it felt like to be struck by lightning. Billy’s body jerked when Tajan stepped back out.

“I have to go now,” he said again. “But don’t worry, Maggie’s going to keep you company for a while. Who knows, maybe she can help you.”

Tajan faded away.

“Where’d he go?” Billy asked in an almost whisper.

Maggie stepped up and motioned for him to sit with her. They dropped down onto the ledge and dangled their feet over the edge of the cliff. There was a distinct silence between them for the longest time and then finally Billy mustered up the courage to look her.

The resemblance was uncanny. It was so weird. He reached up and traced his fingertips along the edge of her hair with a hesitant touch.

Maggie shivered.

Billy yanked his hand back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. But you look so much like her.”

“It’s okay.” She looked at him. “I haven’t been touched in such a long time.” Tears glistened the corners of her eyes.

“What?” His mind whirled at her declaration. “You and Tajan can’t touch each other?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Heaven isn’t so heavenly when you can’t feel the touch of the one you love.”

“I’m sorry.” The words fell from his mouth, but he meant them.

“He showed you, didn’t he?” Maggie asked, changing the subject. “How much he loves me,” she added, and it was no question.

“Yeah.” Billy shrugged. “In a way I envy you two.”

“Why?”

“Because you have each other. You may not be able to touch, but you’re always going to love each other…apparently.”

“Well...that’s true.” She nodded. “but…there is someone out there for you, too.”

“Yeah, sure.” His skeptical laughter filled the air.

“It’s true.” Maggie grinned and nudged him. “And between you and me...she’s coming very soon.”

Billy might have inquired about her statement, if the reason he was there hadn’t slammed into the forefront of his mind. It consumed his thoughts, pushing everything else aside. “Is the treasure real?”

“Oh, it’s real all right,” Maggie said. “All you have to do is find it.”

“But how?” he asked. “We don’t even know where to look.”

“Well, I can’t really help you with that,” she said. “I don’t exactly recall where we buried it.”

A sense of defeat dropped over Billy. “Well, I guess that settles it,” he said with a shrug. “We can’t figure out how to read your map.”

“Now that is something I can help you with.” She smiled. “You must be careful though.” Her tone grew serious. “There are people out there who are after the same thing you are. And above all else, you must protect Rio because Tajan is not able to do that right now.”

She hopped up off the ground and Billy did the same. He pulled the map out of his pocket and handed it to her. She folded the edges several times, creased it down the middle and then handed it back to Billy.

“Will this help?” he asked, slipping the map from her.

“Compare it, as is, to an early map of the area and you’ll know where to look,” she said with a comforting pat on the back of his hand. Her expression turned somber. “There will come a time when Rio’s identity will be questioned,” said. “Never doubt for a moment that she isn’t who she says.”

Billy didn’t give Maggie’s counsel about Rio much consideration. He was too wrapped up in the map and the way she’d folded it.

“I have to go now.” She backed away in slow, easy steps. “But leave Rio alone for the night. Tajan is with her.” She began to fade away, leaving him with one last consideration, “Remember…you must protect Rio.”

And then she was gone.

* * *

The sun had long since disappeared behind the Sierra Nevada Mountains, and Rio was wandering aimlessly through the forest. Somewhere, in the deepest corners of her mind, she knew she was asleep, high upon a mountaintop and curled up by a warm fire.

It was a notion she couldn’t quite grasp, but yet she knew it. Maybe that why it hadn’t fazed her that it was dark and she was alone in the woods. She continued on, somehow knowing which way to go, yet having no clue where she was going—until she arrived at Vista Point. That was a place she recognized, having recently been there with Billy. She climbed up on a boulder and drew her knees up under her chin.

Not long after, she heard a noise in the nearby bushes. It didn’t bother her. She felt no fear. Just curiosity. “Is someone there?”

Tajan emerged from the shadows.

“It’s you!” Hope and anticipation pushed the sigh up her throat.

Tajan strolled toward her and scaled the rock easily. Sitting beside her, his arm swept against hers. The heat of his skin breezed through her, igniting a flame that had been smoldering for decades.

He looked at her and smiled. He brushed her hair back from her face and traced his fingertips along her cheek. “My dear sweet love.” His dark-eyed gaze stoked the desire burning deep inside her. “I have missed you so,” he said in perfect English. Their closeness was like a drug filling her with euphoria.

What the hell? Rio slid off the rock and started to run. This was so not right. She’d lost her mind.

He was there, all around her, and in an instant he’d swept her effortlessly into his arms. She wanted to run. Flee. But her heart jolted and her pulse pounded from the feel of his bare-chested skin. He drew her like a powerful magnet and she was helpless to escape the attraction.

The sweet smell from the other day—when Billy had left her here alone—invaded the space around her and overwhelmed her senses.

She felt like she was overdosing on some euphoria drug. She slid her arms around him, wanting another dose.

He brushed his lips over her cheek. Her body tingled from the contact and her heart danced with excitement. Rio wanted every inch of him.

But he was not hers.

Tajan’s lips were well on their way to meeting up with hers when she pulled away. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” She should put some distance between them, but it was hard to push him away. “Maggie…” She closed her eyes, feeling utterly miserable. “You belong to her.”

He pulled her to him and locked his hands against her spine. “You haven’t quite figured it out yet, have you?” His gaze traveled over her face and searched her eyes. He leaned in to kiss her, and the the heat of his lips seared emotions and passions back into her heart that she’d long since forgotten. Feelings from another lifetime that lingered to this day.

Rio shook her head, as if that’d cast out the weird sensations. “What the hell is going on?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

Looking at her, he said, “You remember now.”

A burst of wild grief shot through her. Rio felt her head grow dizzy and her knees give. Sinking to the ground, Tajan scooped her into his arms and carried her through the darkness. She buried her face against the side of his neck.

An odd feeling, like she’d found something she didn’t know she lost, gained momentum as they came to a lodge in the middle of a thicket.

Inside, Rio made a feeble attempt at pulling herself together. “How could I have forgotten you?” she asked, aching with an inner pain.

Tajan stepped forward and clasped her body tightly to his. “You weren’t supposed to remember,” he said. “At least that was the plan when you were given a new life in the form of Rio. All traces of Maggie were supposed to have been stripped away.”

Realizing what that inevitably meant, she put all her effort into freeing herself from his embrace and took a couple of steps back. “So...” She hesitated, finding it hard to speak the truth. “You know the whole story then...don’t you?”

“Yes,” he said without judgment. “But you have to change your plans.”

“To what?”

“You have to help Billy. He’s family.”

“Look—” Fear chased her guilt up her throat. “I’m having a little trouble considering someone who turns out to be my twenty-millionth great-grandson from a former life…as being family.”

“Rio...” Tajan said softly, “Audrey Tajan is your mother.”

“No she’s not.” Rio shook her head. “That’s just a cover.”

“Cover or not...” He caressed her cheek with his thumb. “It’s true.”

She swallowed hard, lifted her head and met his gaze head on. “I remember my mother... and she definitely wasn’t Audrey Tajan.”

“Audrey was your father’s first wife, and your natural mother.” Tajan began to wonder if Rio really needed to hear that she’d been abandoned by not just one but two mothers. “Abby is only your adoptive mother.” He wanted nothing more than to be able to protect her, even from this. “Maybe that’s why she’s always hated you so.”

Rio closed her eyes. “Oh, God!” She let out a sound that was half sob-half moan. “My great-great-granddaughter from a previous life turns out to be my mother.” She opened her eyes, looking at him with fear and disbelief evident in her gaze. “Do you realize how much therapy I’m going to need over this?”

Tajan took her hand and gave her a sad, lonely smile. “You have to forget your original purpose and find a way to help Billy,” he said. “If you can do that, then in the end your original purpose will be served.”

“But we don’t know where the treasure’s buried.”

“Billy has the necessary information now.” Tajan paused, holding her gaze for a moment and then leaned over and kissed her—madly, decadently, passionately.

The next thing she knew, they were tucked away inside a cozy pallet made of bearskin. His lips were pressed against hers and he was caressing her mouth more than kissing it. The heat of his naked body against her bare skin burned hot and seared deep inside into the core of her soul.

Their reunion had been a long time coming, and neither of them wanted it to end quickly. They took things slow and very sensual, becoming reacquainted, they welcomed each other home. When their passions exploded in a downpour of fiery sensations, their bodies melded together as if they were two pieces of a whole.

Rio nestled against Tajan, savoring the feeling of satisfaction he’d left her with. In his arms, fully contented, she fell asleep.

At daybreak, the morning sun broke the horizon and filtered into the lodge through the cracks and crevices, waking Rio. Waking up in Tajan’s arms gave her about a moments worth of pleasure—until she realized what that meant.

“I don’t want to go back,” she said, savoring the warmth of his body against her bare skin. “I want to stay here with you.”

“You have to go back.” With an almost hypnotic touch, he caressed her hair. “This time, you will live a long, healthy and very happy life.”

“I can’t do that now.” Dissention rose in her voice. “Not after last night.”

“I know this is hard for you to accept or understand,” he said, “but your destiny is with your partner.” Tajan propped himself up on one arm and trailed his fingers along her cheek. He smiled at her and she wanted nothing more than to get lost in him again. “Close your eyes,” he whispered.

She did as he asked. His fingers blazed a delightfully sensuous trail over her face. She touched his arm, enjoying the feel of his chiseled bicep. His lips breezed across her cheek. “Don’t look at it like its forever,” he whispered.

Rio’s hand fell against her own body. That’s when she realized Tajan was gone. She was left with nothing but a memory.

She leapt to her feet at the same time her eyes sprang open. Surveying the area, and herself, she found she was fully clothed and back atop Hot Springs Mountain.

Billy and the others rushed to her side. “Rio…you okay?” Anxiety fueled his questioning voice.

Rio was beginning to understand how a deer caught in the headlights felt. She knew she should say something...but what? What could she say? “I had sex with a dead guy, and worse yet, I wanted to stay with him?”

Humph. She came to the conclusion that it was best to keep her mouth shut. There was nothing she could say that would make sense, so she walked away.

She heard Billy order, “Everybody stay back!”

She could easily guess he was following her as she headed out of the clearing. But it didn’t stop her from hurrying through the thicket of trees until she’d the mountain’s edge.

In silence, she gazed out across the canyon.

Billy stopped a few feet from her. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now.” There was a measure of sympathy in his tone.

Rio closed her eyes, caught momentarily by the recollection of Tajan’s lips and tongue making her body sing, as it had never done before. Trying to shake the memory, a chill rushed through her. She took her time looking at Billy. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Now I know why you got so spooked when I took you to the place where Tajan and Maggie died,” Billy said, his tone was calm.

A touch of fear and a bit of disbelief passed across her face.

“Let me guess…in your vision Tajan came to you?” He posed it as a question but it wasn’t really. “How do I know this?” he asked, not waiting for an answer. “Because Tajan and Maggie came to see me before he came to you.”

Rio’s eyes glistened and she skewed her mouth tightly. “I should never have come here.” She sucked back her frustration. “I should never have done this.”

She took off again and Billy chased after her. When he caught up to her, he grabbed her arm. “Rio,” he said with newfound hope, “I know how to read the map. Maggie showed me.” His tone grew solemn. “She also told me that you and she are one and the same.”

Rio paled, and it was like all reasoning drained from her face right along with the color. She stared at him and he saw the never-ending need to understand what was happening to her glistening in her eyes.

That’s when he knew—she’d gotten the same news. “Tajan told you that, didn’t he?”

Rio’s scathing laughter rippled around him. “Oh, that ain’t the half of it.” Her head shook like a bobble-head doll. “The thing is, Billy—” She flashed him a judgmental glare. “—you and I...we took a controlled substance. One that induces hallucinations.” She threw her hands into the air. “Are we really supposed to buy into the fantasies that we created last night? Because they were, after all, just that...illusions.”

“Vision. Hallucination. Fantasy. Or illusion,” he said, remaining calm. “Call it whatever you like, but I have just one question for you...If it wasn’t real, how did you and I both come up with the idea that you and Maggie are the same person?”

~~~~

CHAPTER 29

Taylor and Biggs had worked for Turner Atkins a number of years. Their current assignment was out of the ordinary and not exactly their forte. They were used to using intimidation and scare tactics to accomplish their goals. Being ordered to sit, wait and watch was a first, and as it turned out, a mission that neither of them was good at.

Even so, from a hilltop across the canyon, they watched the boss’s ringer. Taylor peered through the binoculars as the party began to awaken.

Biggs was on the phone with Atkins. “It’s beyond me, boss.” He rolled his eyes to keep from complaining about this farce of an assignment. “All they did was sit around a fire all night.” He paused, listening to his boss. “They’re packing up to leave.” After another brief interlude, Biggs said, “All right, boss…we’ll stick to them like glue.”

~~~~

CHAPTER 30

Rio had to make an escape—at least for a little while—and she had to do it alone. She had to call her father. She needed answers, and she needed them now.

In the Raley’s parking lot, she stowed away between two large trucks, feeling confident that somebody would have to be looking for her to sneak up on her. She left the engine running and fished her cell phone out of her bag.

Rio hit the speed-dial and tapped her hand against the steering wheel while she waited for James Laraquette to answer his phone. Finally, when she heard his voice on the other end of the call, relief washed over her. “Daddy?”

“Rio...?” Her father’s voice was filled with apprehension, which didn’t surprise her. He could always pick up on her anxiety right away. “Are you okay?” he asked, confirming her suspicions.

“I’m fine, Daddy.” She realized the lie as soon as it left her mouth. “Well, no.” She straightened in her seat and cleared her throat. “That’s not really true.”

“Rio, honey...are you in trouble?”

“Daddy—” She nearly choked on the lump crawling up her larynx. “Is Abby really my mother?”

“Why would you ask me that?” Her father’s tone went from apprehension to panic—suggesting that he’d been dreading this moment for a long time.

“Well...?” She held her breath, waiting. When he didn’t say anything right away, she knew she’d have to give him a nudge. “It’s recently been brought to my attention that a woman named Audrey Tajan might possibly be my mother.” The tears turned on like a faucet at full blast. “Were you married to her, Daddy?”

James Laraquette’s silence reached out across the wire and grabbed hold of Rio like a huge suffocating strap. After the deafening stillness came the confirmation of her worst nightmare when her father said, “How did you find out about Audrey?”

“Is she my mother?” Rio screamed into the phone.

“Yes, Rio...she is.”

She wept with fury, indignation, desolation and sorrow. Four little words had ripped her world apart. Now, the childhood treatment that Abby had bestowed upon her made sense. In some weird way that helped.

When Rio’s tears had tapered down to sniffles, James cleared his throat. “Rio, honey—” As he spoke, she swiped the tears with the base of her palm. “—do you want me to come there?”

“No!” The thought of her father coming to Carson City sent her senses reeling. That could not happen. “You cannot come here!”

* * *

From the time Audrey Tajan met James Laraquette and married him—and up until the time she met Turner Atkins, she hadn’t changed much. Something happened to Audrey when, as a teenager, she ran away from home with Johnny Morton. Audrey was sixteen and Johnny was nineteen. Her parents had been livid at the older boy chasing after their young daughter. Needless to say, Audrey was infatuated with Johnny. The more her parents tried to stop her from seeing him, the more she was determined to do just that. It didn’t take much effort on Johnny’s part to convince her to run away with him. The boy made grand promises of a wonderful, magical life together.

The magic lasted less than a year. Johnny came home from work one day and announced that he’d been seeing someone else. To make matters worse, he was in love with the other woman. Without any remorse, he packed his things and left Audrey to fend for herself.

She didn’t dare go home, feeling a reconciliation between herself and her parents could never happen.

After a brief period of wallowing in self-pity, Audrey pulled herself up off the ground and did whatever she had to do to take care of herself. That, is how she acquired a taste for the finer things in life.

One wild weekend in Vegas, when she was in her late-twenties, she met a handsome young man named James Laraquette. Audrey was taken with his wholesome good looks and his unwavering focus. He knew exactly what he wanted and precisely how he was going to get it.

And, James was fascinated with the young Native American beauty. She had the most beautiful green eyes he’d ever seen.

James and Audrey married with the grandest of plans for the future. She spent the first year of their marriage waiting for the birth of their first child. She was also waiting for the other shoe to drop. She anticipated the same thing happening with James that had happened with Johnny. By the time their little girl, Rio, was born—Audrey was miserable.

She had to get out and she had to do it right away. She knew James would never allow her to leave with the baby, so she did what she thought was the only option open to her. When Rio was two weeks old, Audrey went to the grocery store and never came home.

James Laraquette knew his wife had gone to L.A. because that’s the last place the credit card company told him she’d used the card before he had her cut off. After that, he never heard from Audrey again.

Rio was less than a year old when James met Abigail McKenzie, a lovely young woman who appeared to love his daughter very much. He quickly decided that Abby would make a wonderful mother for Rio and he wasted no time at all in asking her to marry him.

Abby happily agreed to adopt Rio with the hope that they would give the child lots of brothers and sisters. They would have too, if James hadn’t gotten that awful fever right after the wedding, leaving him unable to father any more children.

Well, that wasn’t exactly what Abby had agreed to. She’d only resolved to adopt Rio with the understanding that she would be able to have her own children. Rio was a little over three when they finally discovered James was no longer capable of fathering children. That notion ate at Abby like a vicious disease, until she got to the point where she resented Rio and hated James because it was all his fault that she wasn’t able to have her own children, yet she was still stuck having to take care of his kid.

James put up with it for a few years, hoping Abby would get over not being able to have her own children. She never did.

Finally, after realizing it would be better for Rio to lose her mother than to have to continue on with the one he’d stuck her with, he asked for a divorce.

* * *

Rio paused silently on the other end of the wire. The story her father had relayed would have been almost unbelievable if she hadn’t already heard the beginnings of the tale from Tajan.

“Sweetheart, I know it doesn’t mean much,” James Laraquette’s voice was dripping with regret, “but I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know, Daddy,” she said. “You were just trying to protect me.”

“I truly was.”

“I know, Daddy.” Rio’s tears escaped again. “This is a lot to take in.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come there?”

“No, Daddy.” She nearly choked on her objection. “You can’t.”

“Well, I know that tone,” he said, half laughing. “You’re not in danger are you?”

“No, Daddy…I’m not in any danger.” She even managed to crack a smile. Her father would be blown away if she told him where she was—more to the point, who she was with.

~~~~

CHAPTER 31

Billy found Rio sitting motionless on the couch in his living room. She had this blank look on her face. It was her shield against the world. But he had a pretty good idea about the chaos going on inside her. Who wouldn’t be confused—considering?

He eased down onto the couch. She didn’t move. She didn’t look at him. He gave her a little nudge. She finally looked at him with sad, sorrowful eyes.

“You okay?” he asked, yet he knew the answer. It was clear, even with the stone-faced mask she wore to disguise her pain.

She turned away and looked straight ahead before answering him with a soft, simple response. “Sure.”

Silence hung in the air between them, and Billy’s mind had begun to fill with all kinds of worse-case scenarios when she looked back at him. “My whole life turns out to be one big, fat lie.” Her tone was as helpless as her feeble shrug. “But sure...” She let out a weak smile and wry laugh. “I’m just hunky-dory.”

The one thing Billy had noticed about Rio when he first met her was she had this fire that seemed to sparkle and crackle and shoot out from her eyes. But now as he looked into those same eyes the flame was gone. She appeared to be nothing more than an empty shell. Everything about her that had fueled her existence was gone now. It had flown right out the window. Billy knew—and she probably did, too—it wasn’t coming back. Rio wanted to be somewhere else. But for all the good it would do her, she might as well be a trillion miles away from her desired location.

“Do you want to quit?” he asked in a tone that offered more than questioned.

“No. I don’t want to quit.” She shook her head. “I’ve got to try and figure out how I’m supposed to carry on with this life—” Her melancholy seemed to deepen. “—when I can’t get past the last one!”

“Why don’t you tell me everything that happened the other night?” Billy said. “And I don’t mean a sugar-coated version. Give me full disclosure.”

She appeared to be thinking about it, and then finally said, “It’s too wild for words.” Whatever had happened, she wasn’t ready to talk about it. She threw him a quick, engaging look. One that said she was going to try to change the subject. “What happened in your vision?”

God, he was good. Billy fought the smirk trying to tip the corners of his mouth. “I had a little chat with Tajan and Maggie. At first I thought she was you. She did tell me that you and she were one and the same.” He snuck a peek at her, knowing she was freaked out by the implication. But she’d asked for details and maybe that’d help her to reveal some of her own. “Tajan didn’t stay long, but he did tell me to stop hating the color of my skin. And...to stop blaming Maggie for his death.” He fell silent, having to regroup after that. “You know…” He gave the room a quick scan. “He showed me how much he loves her—you. He stepped inside my body and I could actually see and feel what he feels.” He shook his head and an eeriness rippled down into his body, shaking his shoulders. “It was really weird, but after seeing and feeling what it’s like to love someone that much—” His tone carried an unmistakable quality. “—it made me realize how alone I really am.” He looked at Rio. “That’s when Maggie said something really strange.”

“What?” Rio asked, totally engrossed in his story.

“Well, she said there was someone out there for me, too. And that she’s coming very soon.” Billy didn’t hide his bewilderment. “Is that weird or what?”

“Everything else made sense though, huh?”

Billy thought about it. “Yeah…” he said. “Granted, it was pretty much unbelievable, but it made perfect sense.”

Well, except for that thing about Rio’s identity being questioned. But Billy was wrapped up in the possibility of his soul mate coming into his life. Now that he’d seen what it felt like to love someone with your whole heart, he wanted that more than anything and he unconsciously tucked away the obscure tidbit into the deepest corners of his mind.

“That is so weird. The same kind of thing happened to me,” she said with a nod. “It was pretty much unbelievable, but I understood it all...except for this one thing Tajan said to me.”

“What?”

“He said my destiny was with my partner.” She didn’t understand that and it showed. Rio had never had a partner in any shape, form, fashion or capacity. In light of that, Tajan’s statement confused the hell out of her. She’d been a loner for as long as she could remember. She liked it that way. She’d learned a long time ago that the only person she could depend on was herself.

“Can you take me back up there?” she asked, looking at Billy. “Back to where they died?” Suddenly, the locale and her reaction to it had new meaning.

“Yeah,” he said. “But are you sure you want to go back there?”

“Yes.”

* * *

Billy parked the Jeep in the same area he had the last time they’d come to this place he called Clear Creek. Rio’s nerves had had a healthy workout on the way over, and by now her heart was doing double-time.

He cut the engine and she hopped out of the vehicle. She strode across the road and stopped at the hillside. Billy paused at her side. She peered down into the ravine, instantly mesmerized by the sound of the rushing waterfall and the spray misting her face.

Something—a feeling she couldn’t quite pin-point—dragged her gaze upward, to the steep cliffs looming about them. She stared at the ominous site, her heart on the verge of exploding. At the thought of Tajan losing his life here in this place, a tremendous amount of grief washed over her.

She looked at Billy—who stood beside her in an almost protective manner—and pointed to the cliffs towering above them. “They jumped from up there...?” She was more or less looking for confirmation.

“Yes.” Billy nodded and looked away.

“Can you get me up there?”

“Sure. I can get you up there.” He buried his fingertips in the front pockets of his Levi’s. “Don’t know that you’ll like the getting part...but I can get you up there.”

“Good. Let’s go.” She spun on her heel and hurried back across the road.

Billy followed her back to the Jeep.

They drove to the other side of the mountain and he stalled at the bottom, revving the engine. There was no road or even the hint of a trail that once was anywhere near them. From this angle, nothing but a bunch of sagebrush stood between them and the top.

Rio got the feeling it was going to take a lot more than the state’s shrub to stop him.

He looked at Rio and winked. “You might want to hold on.” He gunned the engine and charged his way up the hill.

The Jeep trampled over the sagebrush, and Rio latched onto the dashboard. “Me and my bright ideas.”

After a rip-roaring, bumpy ride the Jeep skidded to a stop at the top of the mountain. Rio exited the vehicle, feeling herself being pulled, inexplicably, toward the cliffs. The closer she got to the edge, apprehension seemed to turn her legs to jelly. A couple feet from the rim, she dropped to the ground and drew her legs up under her chin. She draped her arms over her knees and stared out across the canyon.

She knew Billy was feet, maybe inches, behind her. He was quiet. Really quiet. She took advantage of the opportunity to do a little soul-searching, even if it was only for a second or two.

The scenery was breathtaking. Even so, it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough. Not ever again. Overcome with a sense of despondency, she dropped her head to her knees and cradled it in her arms.

She felt Billy sitting down beside her.

“You okay?” His inquiry came softly.

She drew her head up and looked at him. “It’s weird.” She glanced out over the canyon and then landed her gaze back on Billy. “I haven’t any solid memories of Maggie’s life...but I have all the feelings that she felt for Tajan.” She cast a brief glimpse toward the cliffs and then returned her attention to Billy. “Can you tell me what happened? How was it, exactly, that they came to die here?”

Billy understood now why she needed to hear the story of Maggie and Tajan. It was her only connection to the love she’d lost forever.

~~~~

PART SIX

THE BOND

~~~~

CHAPTER 32

Northern Nevada, Lake Tahoe Area

September, 1864

After hearing about the posse heading their way, Tajan and Maggie had left their only child and a few cherished tokens—his pouch, her necklace, their wedding bracelets and their paintings—with Tajan’s parents.

He’d taken her high up into the hills. He had to hide her from the white sheriff and his band of vigilantes. It was the only way to keep her safe—if they didn’t freeze to death first.

The high forest was his best chance to evade the white man’s posse. It was an area he knew well, but the lawmen would have trouble navigating or tracking them without help. The bad news was that at such a high altitude, even in the summer, the nights were cold.

Maggie shivered. The single blanket they shared for warmth did little to provide shelter from the bitter chill of an exceptionally cold night in the Sierra Nevada. But it was nothing compared to the noose at the end of a rope—Maggie Fuller’s fate if they were caught.

Protectively, Tajan tucked the blanket around her and reinforced his embrace. “I am sorry,” he said in English, “we can have no fire.” Exiled in total darkness, he hadn’t dared build a fire for fear of discovery.

“It’s okay.” Maggie’s voice trembled. “I’m not cold.” Of course it was a lie. She was freezing. Still, it was better than the alternative.

She drifted in and out of sleep several times during the course of the night. Each time, easily awakened by the night’s plummeting temperatures.

Just before dawn Tajan nudged her gently. “Maggie...” he called her name just above a whisper. “Wake up.”

She opened her eyes, surveyed the surroundings and instantly remembered where she was and why she was there. Even so, when her eyes met Tajan’s she smiled gallantly.

“Come,” he said. “We must hurry.”

The couple mounted their ponies and rode off, deeper into the forest. Maggie wondered if the posse was still hot on their trail. He’d warned her during the night that a group of seven or eight men, one of them a renegade Paiute—known for trading his tracking services to anyone with anything of value to him—was leading the way.

Tajan’s first inclination had been to head down into the area that the whites called California, but Maggie had begged him not to go that way. She was afraid of leading the posse toward her grandfather’s farm, and thereby her only remaining sister, Mary.

To please Maggie, Tajan doubled back toward Lake Tahoe and down into the valley south of Carson City. He stood a decent chance of throwing the posse off their trail if the whites were gullible enough to think Maggie would never be foolish enough to return to the scene of her crime.

After a few miles, Tajan coaxed Pico to halt with a soft whistle. He slid off the horse and dropped to the ground.

He lay there for just a few seconds but it felt like an eternity before he jumped up and leapt back onto his horse.

Tajan seized the reigns and looked at Maggie. “Six or seven horses are right behind us.” He eyed the landscape, worry wrinkling his brow. He didn’t look nearly as confident as he had just moments ago. “This is not best place to be trapped.”

They rode hard until they cleared the woods and came upon a clearing at the top of the mountain. Slowing down, Tajan realized where they were.

He gave Maggie his best stone-faced look to hide the reality that there was no place to go with the posse behind them. Normally, he wouldn’t have gotten himself backed into this corner. But he had to admit, if only to himself, that his thinking had gotten a little muddled after she begged him not to go toward the lands the whites called California—the one place he’d thought was safest.

Tajan slid off Pico and Maggie dismounted Lightning. The sound of rushing water grew louder as they moved closer to the edge of the precipice. Over the side, a drop of about two hundred feet loomed below them and led down to jagged cliffs. Beneath them, the mountain extended outward, sideways from the overhang—as if in a last ditch effort—before giving way to a waterfall inside a ravine.

Tajan locked his hand around Maggie’s wrist.

“What a drop!” She gasped, looking down into the gorge.

Tajan looked at the ravine, then glanced over his shoulder at the wooded area. Nothing. No sign of their pursuers. But it was only a matter of time before they emerged from the tree line. Finally, he turned to Maggie and let his hand slide down to hers. “I am sorry,” he apologized. “I have…” He paused, as if searching for the right words. “I have left us nowhere to go.”

“Tajan,” Maggie said with a quick sigh, “I love you with all my heart. And I don’t regret a single moment that we’ve spent together.” She shook her head. “But when they catch us... they’re gonna kill us.” Hope had left her eyes. Her gaze left him, peered into the ravine where it stayed briefly and came back to meet his, once more. “So let’s not give them the satisfaction.”

“You know what you say?” he asked, studying her face.

“Let’s go by our hand,” she said. “Not theirs!” She tightened her fingers around his as the posse cleared the tree line behind them. “I couldn’t bear to be separated from you again. Let’s do it together. Now.” She gave his hand a little tug. “Before they come.”

Tajan gave her a slight nod and withdrew his hand. The posse was making their way across the clearing and Tajan hurriedly began tearing strips from the edge of his shirt to bind them together.

They would jump, and they’d be bound when they did it. Most people wouldn’t understand why Tajan had so readily agreed to jump to his death with Maggie, when he could’ve easily talked her out of it. But he knew their pursuers would kill them once they caught up to them. He couldn’t bear the thought of her last hours of life being filled with anxiety and fear over what the white men would do to her before they finally got around to killing him. He was not so much concerned with himself. He was prepared to die. He had proved that. But he didn’t like the image forming in his mind of Maggie being forced to witness his torturous death.

As he wound the strips around their wrist, binding them together, he knew that leaping into the ravine was the right thing to do. Tajan could only hope that they’d reunite in another, future life.

* * *

The posse, led by Carson City’s sheriff, closed in on the renegades. They stood together on the edge of the cliffs and the Indian was wrapping something around his and the girl’s wrists. It looked like he was binding their arms together.

Sheriff Simmons tugged on the reins and slowed down his horse when he was no more than a few feet away from his targets. “Stop! Hold it right there!”

The Indian looked at the girl and smiled. “I love you.”

What surprised the Sheriff the most was that he said it in English. Not perfect English, but English nonetheless.

Just when the Sheriff thought he couldn’t get anymore disgusted, she said to the Indian, “I love you, too.”

He shook his head and pushed down the bile rising up his throat. Just as he looked back, and laid his hand on his gun, the ill-fated couple stepped off the ledge.

The Sheriff swung a leg over his horse and slid to the ground, landing on his feet. He and his comrades rushed to the cliff’s edge and peered over the side. At the bottom, the Indian lay draped across the girl—they were both lifeless—as if he were still trying to protect her, even in death.

He shifted his attention to his men, letting his gaze drifted over their faces. Eyes wide and mouths dropped open, clearly none of them had expected them to jump.

Just as well, though. The girl was spoiled for any decent man now. She was better off dead.

Feeling a little cheated that he had been robbed of the opportunity to avenge the tainting of a white woman, Sheriff Simmons glanced back out over the canyon.

Two eagles soared up out of the ravine and danced playfully as they took to the sky.

~~~~

PART SEVEN

THE SET-UP

~~~~

CHAPTER 33

Billy and Rio were still on the mountaintop where Maggie and Tajan had jumped to their deaths.

Rio looked at Billy, tears blurring her vision. “That was it? That was the end?” Her voice shook, nearly as much as her composure.

“Yes,” Billy said with a regretful nod.

“But what about Maggie and Tajan?” Anguish suffocated Rio. Her heart cried out. “What happened to their bodies?”

“I don’t really know.” He shook his head. “News of the tragedy got back to the tribe in the form of traders’ gossip. Tajan’s parents raised their baby. All their personal tokens were passed down from generation to generation.”

“Where are the pouch and the bracelets?” She prayed they weren’t in the hands of some distant cousin.

“My father has them.”

Relief escaped in her overblown sigh. Then an inquiry flashed in her thoughts. “How do you know Mary didn’t come back for the treasure?”

“Mary was hell-bent on never stepping foot in northern Nevada again.” He hopped up off the ground and wiped his hands against his Levi’s. “Besides that...” He offered his hand. “She married a man in California in 1865.” He pulled her to her feet. “There were rumors that he had some political power of some sort. So it was unlikely that she would’ve jeopardized her new husband’s career by risking discovery as a notorious bank robber.”

They strolled back toward Billy’s Jeep. “So you think that Mary more than likely tucked her half of the map away, and it got passed down from generation to generation...the same as Maggie’s half?”

“That’s a fair bet.” After a brief interval his face twisted with confusion. “I just don’t get how Audrey got a hold of Mary’s half of the map.”

* * *

Rio still didn’t believe that Turner was Mary’s descendent. Something about his story hadn’t rang true. It bothered her so much so, in fact, that she lay awake in bed that night, trying to figure it out.

Turner had said that his great-great grandmother had passed her half of the map down to his grandmother, who in turn had passed it down to him. And that his great-great grandmother was Molly.

Wait! That couldn’t possibly be true. Molly died. Mary was the one with the other half of the map.

Rio didn’t have a clue how Turner came to have the map in his possession. But the one thing she was sure of was that he hadn’t gotten it from his grandmother.

And Rio was willing to place money on that notion. While she believed Turner’s grandmother used to tell him stories about buried treasure, Rio doubted the woman was ever in possession of that map.

If she had to guess, she’d say he probably acquired Mary’s half of the map from some guy who owed him money.

* * *

Now that Billy had the one piece of information he needed to find the treasure, he stood in the middle of his living room, with Rio at his side, and folded the map just like Maggie had shown him. Looking down at the final results in his hand, he was astonished.

“I know where this is,” he said. “I know exactly where this is.”

“Okay...” She sucked in a deep breath. “We’ve got to be careful. We have to get in and out without our tailgaters knowing about it.”

He nodded. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to do just that.”

“Billy…” Rio’s voice trailed off.

“Yeah.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” She dipped her chin. “I’m going to ask you to do something without explanation. I need you to trust me and not ask questions.”

“Go on.”

“We’re going to need friends,” she said. “A lot of friends.” Her gazed traveled up and seized his. “Friends you would trust with your life.”

“I can get those.”

Billy didn’t let the desire to know more about her motives consume his thoughts. Since the vision quest he trusted her implicitly. He was confident that all would reveal itself in due course. Rio would divulge her reasoning as soon as she could.

~~~~

CHAPTER 34

Billy assembled his friends at the Silver Arrow, a neighborhood hangout, to find out who he could count on. It was a small bar by many standards. It consisted of a lounge, a dance floor, a deejay’s booth and a poolroom in back. The establishment catered mostly to locals rather than tourists.

Rio and Billy sat together at the bar, each with a beer in front of them. She nibbled on a bowl of peanuts sitting on the counter.

The deejay played a song from one of those boy bands. Rio sipped her beer and rolled her eyes, showing her displeasure for the deejay’s choice in music.

“What’s the matter?” Billy laughed. “Don’t you like the music?”

“Well, actually...I’m more of a rock-n-roller.” She placed her beer bottle on the counter. “Give me the Eagles, Def Leppard, or some Alice Cooper...and I’d be happier than a pig in shit.”

Billy laughed and motioned for the waitress making her way across the dance floor. She glided toward him with a sexy dance.

“Can you ask Ray—” he said of the deejay as he handed her a five. “—if he’s got some Alice Cooper that he’ll play for my cousin?”

“Sure, Billy.” She smiled and tucked the money away inside her cleavage.

Not long after, Alice Cooper’s ‘Be my Lover’ blared over the sound system.

Rio listened to the song’s first few lines and then turned to Billy with a sharp look.

He laughed. “I think this is Ray’s futile attempt at making a pass at you.”

“How fortunate for me.” She turned away and reached for her beer.

“He’s got some big shoes to fill...doesn’t he?”

“You know,” she said without looking at him, “I’ve always imagined that there’s a guy out there somewhere.” Finally, she peered at Billy. “And from the first moment that we’d meet... that’d be it.” She summed it up with a shrug. “I’d see him. He’d see me. And it’d all be over. We’d both be off the market.” She turned away and took a long, hard drink from her beer.

“Just like that...” A skeptical laugh thundered up his throat. “Instant love, huh?”

She snagged a handful of peanuts and tossed them at him. “Don’t laugh at me, damn it.”

“Well, come on…” He was really laughing now. “You’re talking love at first sight or some such shit.” He grabbed his beer and shook his head. “It’s ridiculous.” Billy downed nearly half the beer.

Their debate over the possibility of love at first sight was interrupted by Billy’s friends entering the bar. They filed in one-by-one and headed toward the poolroom.

Billy was drawn to the pretty girl following close behind his best friend, Danny. Her dark hair and honey-colored skin had his mind wandering.

“Yeah...” Rio’s voice drifted into his thoughts. “Ridiculous, huh?”

She was laughing, but he didn’t care. He got up and headed for the poolroom, leaving Rio sitting at the bar.

Inside the poolroom, he approached his friends and the girl stepped behind Danny.

“Hey, Bill.” Danny gave him a nod. “What’s up?”

“Who’s the girl?” Billy got straight to the point.

“You remember my cousin, Janey.” Danny pointed over his shoulder.

Rio stopped at Billy’s side.

Billy paid his cousin no mind. Instead, he glanced over Danny’s shoulder and studied the girl. Janey? Really?

He shook his head. No Way. Who would have known that scrawny little girl who used to follow them around could turn into this beautiful creature standing before him? “Janey?” He had to ask to make sure.

She emerged from behind her cousin. “Hi Billy…” Her smile tempted him. “Long time no see.”

Rio shifted behind Billy, handed his beer around to him and then rested her chin on his shoulder.

Janey’s gaze met Rio’s and the girl lost her smile and her eyes flared with a bitterness that said, who in the hell is this redheaded tramp hanging all over Billy? She pointed at Rio. “That your girlfriend?” she asked with a chill in her voice, all the while eyeing her competition.

Rio laughed.

“Rio?” Billy asked dubiously, pointing over his shoulder. “God, no. She’s my cousin.”

Janey’s hardened expression relaxed into a smile.

Billy moved in closer, reducing the gap between them. “Where’ve you been? Last time I saw you…you were twelve, maybe thirteen.”

“Away,” Janey said.

Rio tapped Billy on the shoulder. “Pssst…hey, Casanova.” She teased him. “You want to remind me why we’re here?”

A few pool games later, Billy had filled his friends in on their plans. He laid the pool stick across the table. “Well…” He planted his hands on his hips. “That’s basically what we’re talking about.” He let his gaze travel around the pool table. “Question is...can I count on any of you?”

Without hesitation, Danny stepped up to the plate first. “I’m in.”

One by one, they acknowledged their support, including Janey.

* * *

Hours later, Rio and Billy headed back to his house. He drove while she counted her winnings.

“Two hundred forty-five…fifty-five…sixty…seventy… eighty…” She fanned the bills playfully and rubbed it in since she’d gotten a few of them from him.

It all started out as a friendly game of pool. But then they started in with that macho shit, and the little pool shark put all of them in their places. In the process, she lightened their wallets for them, too. After all, it was the least she could do.

“Next time,” he asked, “can I be on your side?”

Rio looked at him. Even though he was talking to her, he was a million miles away. He was thinking about Janey—that much was obvious. Rio had seen it when the girl first walked into the bar. Billy was smitten with her from the get-go.

“You like her, don’t you?” she asked.

“Who?”

“Janey.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Okay, so maybe she is pretty.” With a slight nod, he started to come around. “Really pretty.”

“Don’t you get it, dummy?” Rio’s voice crested with excitement.

“Get what?”

“It’s her.” She smacked his arm. “The girl Maggie told you about. She said she was coming soon.”

He was quiet for a moment, and then he shook his head. “No way. Besides...I don’t even think she likes me.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Rio countered with a skeptical laugh. “She was ready to claw my eyes out...till you told her I was your cousin.”

“There’s no way.”

“Okay.” She decided to take matters into her own hands. “Next time you see her—and trust me, you will see her again...I want you to ask her out. And I mean on a real date, too. Take her out to dinner or something.”

~~~~

CHAPTER 35

Billy and Rio still had the little matter of a couple of unwelcome guests they had to throw off their trail. Hoping to do just that, they took a party of ten—which included Billy’s parents and Janey—and headed up to Bennett Canyon. The next stop on Billy’s snipe hunt.

Rio was alone, sitting on a big rock and gazing out over the canyon. All she wanted, at this point, was someone to tell her how she was supposed to carry on. How was she supposed to live her life without Tajan? He’d told her she was going to live a long life this time. If that were the case, it was destined to be a lonely life, too.

Janey climbed up on the rock and sat down beside Rio. She drew her knees up and draped her arms around her legs. “So...” she said in a soft voice, “where is he?”

Rio leaned her head to the side and let her gaze journey toward the girl. “Who?” she asked.

“The guy that’s on your mind.”

Rio looked back out at the canyon. “I really don’t know where he is.” She shrugged, staring straight ahead. “I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again.”

“Well...I hope for your sake that you do.”

Fat chance! Kind of hard to see a dead guy—without the help of some seriously illegal drugs.

Janey shifted and faced Rio, saying, “I want to apologize to you.”

“Apologize to me?” Rio rolled her eyes at Janey. “For what?”

“Well, I wasn’t real nice to you the other night.” Janey looked away, as if embarrassed. “And I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t give it a second thought.” Rio didn’t want the girl feeling guilty. She didn’t see the sense in that. “So…” Her voice lightened with a friendlier tone. “When’s the last time you saw my cousin Billy?”

“Geez…” Janey paused, thinking about it. “It’s been about eight or nine years now. My parents moved away and I’m just now, finally, getting back home.” She cleared her throat. “Does he have a girlfriend?”

“No.” Rio shook her head. “Nothing serious anyway.” She leaned in a little closer. “But I’ll tell you…he sure likes you though.”

“Really?” Janey’s smile lit her eyes. “You wouldn’t shit me now, would you?”

“Not about something like that,” Rio said. “He’s a little bit shy, but he wants to ask you out. Can I tell him you’re okay with that?”

“Are you kidding me?” Janey’s face beamed with enthusiasm. “I’ve wanted him to ask me out...ever since I was like ten.”

“Then it’s good as done.” Rio smiled and nodded. There may be no way she could have a happy ending, but that didn’t mean it had to be that way for Billy and Janey. They could have a happy ending and she’d make it happen.

Immediately, she started looking for the opportunity to nudge Janey in Billy’s direction. It didn’t take her long to find it. The guys had been digging as a pretense of looking for the treasure. Finally, Billy took a break.

Well…it’s about time. She looked at Janey—who was staring at Billy. Rio went to Billy’s Jeep and grabbed a thermos and then strode back toward Janey.

“Hey, Janey.” She put the container in the girl’s hands. “Billy’s been working really hard over there.” Rio pointed her in Billy’s direction and gave her a little push. “Why don’t you go offer him some water?”

Janey stumbled, but recovered quickly. She stepped awkwardly toward Billy.

He looked up. When his eyes landed in her direction, he smiled.

“Hey...” She had the shyest look on her face when she stopped beside him and leaned against his Jeep. “I thought maybe you’d like something to drink.”

“Thanks,” he said, taking the thermos.

He drank and her eyes were glued to him. Even from Rio’s distance she could see the perspiration dripping down his face and splattering on his shoulders and chest.

She hadn’t anticipated the high temperatures or the heat that came with them. They should’ve brought more towels.

Janey worked her arms out of her outer shirt and removed it. Billy’s mouth crept open as he stared at her snug t-shirt. She was well-endowed; a fact that hadn’t escaped Billy.

She offered him the blouse.

He shook his head. “I don’t want to mess up your shirt.” He raked his wet forearm across his forehead.

“It’s okay,” she said with a one-sided shrug. “It’s washable.” She reached up and dabbed the shirt over his brow.

He made no attempt to stop her, and given the smile spreading across his face, he was enjoying the activity. “Say, listen...” He spoke, and she mopped his neck, arms and chest. “When this is over...you think you might want to have dinner with me?”

“Yes.” She dropped her arms to her sides. “I’d like that very much.”

Rio tried to ward off the bittersweet feeling washing over her as Billy and Janey flirted with one another.

Go for it Billy! Don’t waste a second. Grab hold of her and never let go.

~~~~

CHAPTER 36

While Billy and Rio’s group pretended to search for the treasure, Danny had another group looking for something else. By the time Danny returned to the Tajans’ home—some twenty-four hours later—Billy and Rio’s party had long since abandoned their own undertaking.

Danny entered through the front door. All eyes zeroed in on him.

“Did you get it?” Rio asked.

“Got it,” he said with a nod and sly grin.

“Good.” Rio looked at Billy’s father. “When you get your hands on the treasure, you take it and you put it somewhere safe.” She sucked in a breath and shook her head. “I don’t want to know where it is either.”

Billy made a noise, like he was about to say something—something she could easily guess.

She stuck her forefinger out, directly at him. “Remember...no questions.” She cut her eyes toward him. “While your dad’s pulling the old switcheroo, you and I are going to have to figure out a way of keeping dumb and dumber preoccupied.” She laid her fingertips against her chin pensively. “Or at least what they think is you and me.”

“Well that shouldn’t be too hard to pull off.” Billy laughed. “It’s been pretty easy to lead them around so far.”

Rio looked at Bill and Carole. “Forgive me...but this part I need to discuss with Billy and Janey. Alone.”

Neither Bill nor Carole said anything. They only watched as their son led Rio and Janey into the hallway and on into what was once his bedroom.

Inside the room, Rio closed the door. She hesitated, trying to figure out how to propose her idea to them. She leaned against the dresser; Billy and Janey sat down on the bed.

“We all know we need to make sure nobody gets followed out of town the day everything sets into motion.” Her words rambled because her nerves had her rattled. She wasn’t sure if they’d agree to the plan she’d concocted. Hell, after learning of the implications they might toss her out on her ear.

“You sound like you already have a plan,” Billy said.

“Well, I do.” She nodded, mustering up courage. “If it’s dark…” She glanced back and forth between them. “And if Janey wears a red wig…then those lowlifes are going to think she’s me.”

“I think I see where you’re going with this,” Billy said with an air of understanding.

“Well, somebody clue me in?” Janey asked, looking a bit confused. “Because I’m totally lost.” Her gaze landed on Rio. “Why do I have to dress up like you? Why don’t you go with him yourself?”

“Because I’m not going to make out with my cousin.” Rio folded her arms together. “You are,” she said with a mischievous chuckle. “We want them to think it’s me. They’ll never break away from watching because that’s the kind of scum they are. They’ll watch till the bitter end.” She shrugged. “Or sweet, as the case may be.”

It was a great plan. Turner’s goons would be so preoccupied with what they thought was Rio and Billy, and they wouldn’t have the slightest clue about what was really going on.

“I’m game.” Billy looked at Janey. “But it’s totally up to you.”

“Oh…” Janey gave him an eager smile. “I’m in.”

Now came the hard part. Since they were all in agreement, they had to go back out into the living room and explain it to his parents. None of them really wanted that assignment, but both girls laid the task at Billy’s feet since they were, after all, his parents.

The girls followed Billy out into the living room and lingered behind him as he faced his parents.

“We have a plan,” he said to them. “But it’s probably best you don’t ask.”

Carole pushed herself up from the couch and pulled Billy off to the side. “You’re not going to hurt anyone, are you?”

“Mom, I wouldn’t hurt anybody.” He charmed her with a smile. “You know that.”

“I don’t mean in the physical sense,” she said dryly. “You don’t hurt Janey, do you hear me?” She whispered, “That girl has genuine feelings for you.”

“Calm down, Mom,” he insisted softly, “I would never hurt her.”

She looked at him with that same look she’d used when she easily guessed his thoughts—eyes that bore into his soul and picked out his most intimate feelings. She crossed her arms in front of her and smiled. “I’m pleased.”

“About?”

“About...” She gave him a mocking glare. “Like you don’t know.” Her chuckling laughter filled the air. “Janey.”

“Janey?” Billy asked innocently. “What about her?”

~~~~

CHAPTER 37

At one o’clock in the morning, when Rio felt comfortable that Billy was fast asleep in his room, she brought out her laptop and sent an email. The message read:

Dear Uncle Gabe…The trap will be set tomorrow night. The birdie will be caged day after tomorrow…Your Loving Niece, Rio

~~~~

CHAPTER 38

At the elder Tajan’s house, Rio waited in the living room with Bill and Carole. She wanted Billy and Janey to hurry up and come out before his parents started asking her too many questions.

When they finally emerged from his old bedroom—Billy first and then Janey—Rio eyed Janey with a measure of curiosity. She was wearing a red wig that looked very much like Rio’s own hair.

Bill and Carole’s entire focus centered around Billy and Janey. No one paid much attention to Rio as she wandered off into the dining room.

She eased into a chair at the dining table and stared up at the paintings of Maggie and Tajan. Mostly, Tajan. Rio couldn’t understand why the details of Maggie and Tajan’s life had been revealed to her. She hadn’t recalled a single inkling of Maggie’s feelings for Tajan before she came here. But now she knew all too well how much Maggie had loved him. How much she—Rio—still loved him.

She couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that she was here—now—and he wasn’t. That’s what the whole damn thing boiled down to. No matter how she examined the situation, the one thing that would never change was the fact that she was alone. No matter how many people gathered around her, she would always be alone.

Somewhere in the remote corners of Rio’s mind, she knew Carole had even entered the dining room and sat down beside her, but the news didn’t make it to her mind on a fully cognizant level.

“He’s very captivating,” Carole’s voice, filled with intrigue, flowed toward her. “Isn’t he?”

Rio tilted her head and cut her eyes toward Carole, feeling the heat rising to her cheeks.

“I’ve always thought so anyway.” Carole gave the painting another quick scan and then turned back to Rio, and whispered, “I think every woman who’s ever laid eyes on that painting has fallen madly in love with him.” Her reticence amused Rio. “But don’t tell your uncle I said that.”

“There’s something about him all right,” Rio said, her eyes glued to the painting.

“But there’s something different in your eyes when you look at Tajan’s painting.” Carole waited until Rio looked at her before she said, “You long for him.” She studied Rio’s face. “While the rest of us merely dream about him...you truly miss him.”

Rio turned away, and hid her face with her hand. “Carole…you’re embarrassing me.”

“Wait here.” Carole pushed herself up from the table and left the dining room.

Sadness laced with Rio’s fascination as Tajan’s portrait consumed her. The pride in his stoic expression. The depth of his chocolate eyes. Every inch of his chiseled features called to her recently awakened affections.

Rio had no idea how long Carole had been gone when she returned with her husband, but the intrusion was met with a half-hearted acceptance.

He had a rectangular jewelry case with him. He set it on the table and slid it toward Rio. “You should have these. After all, you made them.”

Inside the case, Rio found the bracelets Maggie had made for herself and Tajan. They were neatly laid out against the black velvet. She knew what they were. And that tore at her heart. The pain of it welled tears around her eyes.

“Someday you’ll meet someone, and you’ll marry.” Bill laid her future out before her like he was privy to some inside secret. “And you and your husband can carry on the tradition that Maggie and Tajan started.”

Rio looked down at the bracelets and was instantly engulfed in grief. She eased the case shut and let her gaze linger on it until she found the courage to slide the jewelry’s container back toward Bill. “That’ll never happen.” She blinked at the tears and glanced back at Tajan’s painting. “I could never share those with another man.” Her voice cracked as hopeless laughter invaded her tone. “There’s not enough room in my heart for anyone else.”

“I don’t know the particulars,” Bill said. “But someday you’re going to want these bracelets. So I’ll keep them safe for you…until you’re ready for them.”

~~~~

CHAPTER 39

Rio’s plan to distract Turner’s goons was set in motion at the base of Prison Hill. Janey, donning a red wig, sat on the hood of Rio’s car. Billy was draped over Janey. They had their arms tangled around each other. It was supposed to be an act, but it was turning more and more passionate by the minute.

Billy ran his hand along the smooth skin of her leg and up underneath her skirt. Hunger spiraled through him. And then a glimmer of what they were doing there raided the party.

He removed his hand from beneath her dress. “I’m sorry.” He caressed her face. “But you make me crazy.”

Janey arched her back, trying to pull Billy back down to meet her lips. “Right now we have to put on a show for them,” she said between her soft, sensuous kisses. “Because they’re watching...right?”

Billy towered above her. “But…” he said, shaking his head. “I won’t disrespect you by getting too carried away.”

“We have to make it look real.” She wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him down as she rose to meet his lips. “But later…” She continued her seduction with kisses. “You’re going to take me back to your place and finish what you started...right?”

“As you wish.” He chuckled and moved his mouth over hers, devouring its softness.

Off in the distance Biggs eagerly watched the couple through a pair of binoculars. “I think they’re having sex!” he exclaimed, still glued to the sight before him. “This guy thinks she’s his cousin, and he’s screwing her!” He passed judgment but made no move to stop watching.

Overtly excited to locate the couple in his sights, Taylor grabbed the extra pair of binoculars and scanned the base of the mountain until he located them. “Oh, my God! They are having sex!” But he didn’t stop looking any more than his cohort had. “Would you look at that.” A devious snicker rose up his throat. “He’s banging the shit out of his cousin!”

* * *

While it’s true, Billy and Janey were kissing and making out—they weren’t having sex. Billy had made it clear that he thought more of Janey than to do something like that under these circumstances.

“You think they’re out there?” Janey asked. “Watching us still?”

“Yes, I do.” The seriousness in his tone was chased away by a smile. “Are you still going to go out with me?”

“You’re kidding, right?” She laughed. “I’d go anywhere with you—do anything you asked.”

Billy smiled. “That’s my girl.”

~~~~

CHAPTER 40

This was the night that would lead to the day Rio had been waiting for, not to mention working toward, for several years now. Tomorrow, all would reveal itself. She was relieved it was going to be over. The whole thing had begun to weigh heavily on her mind.

Over the last few weeks, she had done everything she could to protect and provide the best possible solution for the Tajans. She’d had an agenda when she came in to this thing. She couldn’t alter her strategy, at least not too far from the original plan. But no matter what she’d set out to do a long time ago, there was no way she could do anything that would end up harming the Tajans.

She was at Billy’s parents’ house, waiting with Carole for everyone else to return. The whole while she’d been pretending to watch the television. They couldn’t do anything. They couldn’t go anywhere. Rio had to stay out of sight. After all, Rio was supposed to be at the base of Prison Hill with Billy.

Fatigue wrapped around her like a straightjacket and she stretched out on the couch. Rio was drifting off when the front door eased open. Billy and Janey came in and Rio sat up.

“Is Dad back?” Billy asked.

“No.” Carole shook her head.

Rio looked at her watch. Three a.m. When had she dozed off? It seemed like seconds ago that she’d lain down.

Billy and Janey sat down on the couch. They were holding hands.

The phone rang and Carole sped across the room to answer it. “Hello...” She was silent for a bit. “You’re okay then?” she questioned the caller. “All right.” She seemed to be giving in as she hung up the phone and turned to Billy.

“That was Dad?” he asked as if he already knew the answer.

“Yes…they’ve switched the treasure and re-buried it. As soon as he hides the real one, he’ll be home.”

“Okay. I’m going to take Janey and Rio to my house in your car,” Billy said. “When Dad gets home, you guys come on over.”

They headed to the garage through the kitchen. Rio climbed into the back seat of Carole’s car, lay down and curled up, safely out of sight. Janey, still wearing the red wig, rode up front with Billy.

He backed out of the garage and headed down the street. He didn’t have to drive far before spying the familiar black SUV sitting on the side of the road.

They’d pass right by them, and they’d be too close. Close enough for them to see that Janey wasn’t Rio. Just a few yards from the SUV, he pushed Janey’s head down toward his lap. He eyed the driver as he passed by their pursuers. The guy gave him a thumbs up.

“Both of you stay down,” Billy said, barely moving his lips. He glanced into the review mirror. “By the looks of what I just saw...I’d say you were right, Rio.” Billy’s disgust flashed back at him in the mirror. “Those goons were eager to witness some incest going on.”

“What’s going on?” Rio asked, but didn’t move from her hiding place in the back seat.

“We just passed right by them.” Billy checked the mirror again. “I was afraid they’d see that Janey wasn’t you, so I shoved her head down, like I was pushing her into my lap.” He glanced down at Janey, who was lying face up on the edge of his leg. She smiled. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Seriously?” Rio asked.

“Oh, yeah...” Billy’s voice shuddered with disgust. “They assumed I was doing what they thought I’d been doing all night.” He checked the rearview mirror again. The SUV was following them and attempting to hide a couple of cars back. “When I passed by them, the driver gave me a thumbs up.” His laughter was fueled by disgust. “What a couple of idiots.”

At Billy’s house, they snuck in through the garage, and Rio headed straight to her bedroom and her laptop.

She wasn’t worried about getting caught, figuring Billy would be preoccupied with Janey. She typed her email with swift precision and then hit the “send” button.

Dear Uncle Gabe…The birdie will be captured later today. Its final resting place will be in Brunswick Canyon. You should be in place before eight a.m. tomorrow morning…Your Loving Niece, Rio.

~~~~

CHAPTER 41

Early the next morning an entourage of vehicles left Billy’s house and filed into the street one right after the other, all heading in the same direction.

The guys in the SUV looked a little nervous as the parade of cars passed them by. The passenger had his cell at his ear and the driver boldly got in line behind the last truck and followed them.

Rio and Janey were with Billy in his Jeep. Rio was in the backseat and on the phone with Billy’s friend, Danny, who was in a truck several vehicles behind them.

“They’re following us?” Rio asked, already easily guessing the answer.

“Oh, yeah,” Danny said with a slight laugh. “It’s time to reel ’em in.”

“Perfect.” Rio smiled, slapped the phone shut and leaned toward the front of the Jeep.

Billy chuckled. “They’re following us, huh?”

She knew he didn’t need a response to his inquiry. He knew the score. “They’re so predictable.”

Rio, Billy, and Janey gathered in Brunswick Canyon with about thirty tribe members. Several of them scrambled to dig up the site again before their friends were able to realize, from a distance, the place had already been dug up recently.

Rio knew Turner’s goons were somewhere nearby. If they were smart they were staked out on the high ridge across the canyon. Common sense told her it afforded an unobstructed view of them. And the best part—it was far enough away to shield what they were really doing.

* * *

In Turner Atkins’s Vegas warehouse, the phone on his desk rang. He snatched it up and said into the receiver, “Talk to me.”

“I think they found the place, Boss.” Biggs’s voice filtered in with great news—if it was true.

“And what makes you think so?” Turner asked.

“They’re up in this canyon right now,” he said, relaying the morning’s chain of events. “They’ve got about thirty, or so, people with them.”

Turner propped his feet up on the desk. “Don’t worry about it,” he said in a poised tone. “By the time they get it dug up…I’ll have an army of men at the bottom of the canyon.”

He dropped the phone back into the cradle and patted the desktop. After all, if it hadn’t been for this desk he would’ve never found the map fragment—the one single object that was going to give him triple—maybe quadruple—the wealth that he currently had.

Had Sammy Styles known what he was giving away in exchange for a debt settlement.... Well, not everybody could be lucky. But Turner was one lucky son-of-a-gun to have happened upon the map the way he did.

It wasn’t the map he’d taken as payment. It was the desk, after he’d verified that it had once belonged to the wife of a California State Supreme Court Judge back in the 1800s. He liked the idea of taking a historical artifact directly related to the justice system and using it in a such an illicit manner.

He’d happened upon the map some time later, while tinkering with the desk. After listening to all his grandmother’s stories he just knew there had to be a secret compartment in it somewhere—and he was right. Even so, he’d expected to find something better than old scribbles on a single piece of paper. He put it back in the desk’s compartment—it seemed like the thing to do—and never gave it a moment’s thought until Audrey Tajan waltzed into his life and told her about her own family’s legends.

The fact that they had their own map fragment did pique his curiosity, but he kept his mouth shut about what he had found. The more he learned about her family’s history, the more he realized that his map and her family’s map were two halves of the same map.

At that point, Turner had one goal—to get his hands on the Tajans’ half of the map.

* * *

Rio stood off to the side, distancing herself from the others. It was almost over now. Soon she’d be going home—back to Vegas. Considering the circumstances, that was probably best. Maybe the quicker she got away from this place, the better off she’d be. Around here, everywhere she looked all she could see was that this was where she’d found and lost Tajan.

She gazed out over the canyon, wishing she could somehow make the loneliness go away. Her soul felt like a shell of her normal spirit. The only things left were the raw sores of her aching heart.

“You okay?” Billy asked. Somehow, he’d snuck up on her.

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat, knowing she didn’t sound convincing.

“You don’t look okay.”

“I’ll be okay.” She forced a nod. “I’m not sure how…but I will.” Rio sucked in a breath and then looked at Billy. She really needed to change the subject. “You’ve got the treasure tucked safely away, don’t you?”

“Yes.” He kicked his foot against the ground but it was too hard to do much damage. “But I still don’t understand why you don’t want to know where it is.”

“I don’t want anything to do with it.” She turned away, to hide her disgust.

“You think we should turn it over to the authorities?”

“No.” She whipped around to face him. “That’s not it. The treasure and everything it stands for is the reason Maggie and Tajan died. The tribe can have it. Maybe something worthwhile can come from it...otherwise, they died in vain.”

Several hours later, after the faux treasure had been dug up, two chests were brought to the surface and the entire party had started to celebrate. But it was only for show. A façade while they waited for the bad guys to arrive.

The party was interrupted by a group of men converging upon them with guns. Turner Atkins led the way.

Rio was thrilled to see Turner leading the pack, but she hid it. For now.

“Ahhh…” Turner waved his gun at Billy. “I see I’m right on time.” He eyed the chests. “I really can’t tell you how much I appreciate you digging these up for me,” he said, downright sarcastic. “And you, Rio…” His glare shifted to her. “Unfortunately, that hundred grand is all you’re getting out of me.”

All eyes turned on Rio like she’d been hit with some sort of magnetic field. Billy gave her one of those looks that said he understood what all the secrecy was about.

“Get the chests!” Turner squawked out the order.

More men with more guns emerged from the shadows.

“FBI…” the apparent leader of the group called out. “Drop your weapons and raise your hands.”

The next couple of minutes probably happened quickly for everyone except Rio. It played out in agonizing, slow motion for her.

Turner’s goons ducked for cover and began firing at the Feds. A shootout commenced between the two groups. Rio and Billy’s party members began to scatter and run for cover. This turn of events wasn’t something any of them were prepared for, and now Rio realized her mistake.

Like a little weasel Turner scampered behind a tree. He peeked out from time to time. Rio knew he was looking for her. She had news for him. She wasn’t about to make herself an easy target.

But then his sights zeroed in on Billy, as if he were a worthy consolation prize. He raised his gun and pointed it at Rio’s newfound cousin.

He was aiming to kill, and Rio wasn’t about to let that happen. Without thinking about the consequences, she ran between them as Turner fired off multiple shots.

An excruciating pain spiraled out from her back. Her legs failed her and she slumped to the ground.

Fear pounded against Billy’s temples as he stared at Rio lying lifeless before him. Another shot rang out and he frantically searched for its target.

The bigmouthed guy that had called out Rio, the obvious leader of the first group, slid down the tree he’d been hiding behind and crumpled to the ground.

Gunfire was still flying, but Billy didn’t care. He ran to Rio and dropped to the ground, cradling her in his arms.

The gunfire slowed. Billy scanned the area. The first set of guys scattered.

One of the Feds used his cell phone and started barking out orders. “I need a chopper up here now. We have an agent down. She has multiple gunshot wounds.”

Billy felt the wetness of Rio’s blood soaking through his clothing. “Rio…” He called her name with frantic intensity. “Talk to me!”

She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “My friend…” her quivering voice trailed off. She took a deep breath. Her eyes closed and her body went limp.

“Rio? Wake up, Rio…” Despair poured out in his voice.

Rio’s spirit rose from her body. She watched with vague curiosity as federal agents rushed to her side. They forced her away from Billy and started CPR.

One of the agents looked up at his senior officer who was still on the phone. “Sir.” He shook his head. “She’s not breathing.”

Billy yanked her away from the agent and starting performing mouth-to-mouth. Between breaths, he yelled at her, “Don’t you do it, Rio...damn it. Don’t you leave.”

Rio felt no pain, no loss, no remorse as Billy tried with desperate fervor to revive her. All the while, a helicopter hovered overhead and landed on the hilltop.

“One, two, three…” Billy continued to perform CPR on her. “You wake up, Rio. Do you hear me?”

Paramedics emerged from the helicopter and scrambled down the hillside.

“Billy…” Janey called out softly, but Rio heard her loud and clear.

Janey took a couple of steps toward Billy and Rio’s body.

Bill clutched Janey’s shoulder with a gentle, yet firm, touch. “Janey, he’s got to try and save her,” Bill said. “Otherwise, her death will forever be on his conscience.”

Rio looked at Billy. Her death on his conscience was not what she wanted.

Involuntarily, she slammed back into her body.

Rio gasped for air.

“Rio…” Billy hugged her. “Thank God!”

~~~~

CHAPTER 42

Inside the hospital waiting room, the Tajans waited for some news about Rio’s condition. Their friends were scattered about. Everyone sat in silence. No one was talking. A downhearted veil seemed to have been cloaked around the group. It was as if, in their anguish, they’d forgotten that she’d been accused of deceiving them.

But Rio had paid her dues. And in the end, she’d proven where her loyalties lay.

Billy sat quietly beside his parents. Janey was at his side. He wished someone would come out soon and give them an update.

The senior FBI man from the site charged in. Scanning the room, he caught sight of Billy. “Is there any news?”

“No,” Billy stood and met him face-to-face. “Who are you? Why were you calling Rio an agent?”

A smile tried to curl on the fed’s lips. “Rio and I are FBI.” He took an empty seat across from Billy’s parents and waited for Billy to return to his seat. When he did, the fed said, “she’s been investigating Turner Atkins for a long time. Five years.”

A doctor, an older man with balding, white hair emerged from behind the double doors leading into the ER’s treatment area. He paused and surveyed the room. His attention landed and stayed on the Tajans and their support group.

Seeing the doctor looking their way, Billy stood and moved toward him.

“The family of Rio Laraquette?” the doctor inquired.

“Yes. We’re her family,” Billy said, and read his name tag. Dr. Edward Sharp.

“Well...” Dr. Sharp shook his head. “She’s lost a lot of blood.”

“I’ll give it to her,” Billy said without hesitation.

“Her type is rare.”

“Let me guess,” Billy said. “A-B negative.”

“How did you know that?”

“Because that’s my blood type.”

“Of course,” the doctor said. “You’re family.”

Billy donated his blood, and once finished, he massaged his arm and left the lab. He headed down the hospital corridor. He’d had lots of time to sit and think about what had happened while they were retrieving his blood. He made up his mind before finishing in the lab—as soon as he was done helping Rio, he was going to find Turner Atkins.

Locating Turner’s room was easy. Billy walked inside and stood over him.

Turner’s eyes popped open. Uncertainty, and then fear bulged his eyes.

Good.

Billy backed into the chair beside Turner’s bed. “If you’re wondering about the guards...” He propped his feet up on the bed. “They’re not going to help you.” He shook his head and flashed Turner a wicked grin that he could’ve been proud of had he not been on the receiving end. “They know I’m in here…and they really don’t care.” Billy latched his hands behind his head. “I have connections with the FBI, you know.” He couldn’t help smirking. “So I guess, when you hired her…the thought that she might actually be my cousin never crossed your mind?”

Turner didn’t say anything. He looked petrified.

“Funny how that works. You hired her to pretend to be someone she already is.” Billy laughed at the irony. “But you know what the best part is...you ended up with a bunch of fool’s gold.”

Turner gave a pained sigh.

“Yep. That’s right. Fool’s gold.” Billy snickered. “I don’t think the FBI’s going to let you keep it though.” His tone grew serious. “But I can guarantee you this...I personally will be right there to testify against you in court. You better pray they convict you, too,” his voice was filled with resolve. “Because if they don’t, I’m going to hunt you down and kill you myself. And that’s not a threat...it’s a promise!”

~~~~

EPILOGUE

Las Vegas

Six Weeks Later

Time passed, and Rio’s wounds had almost healed completely. But the pain in her heart hadn’t lessened a bit. She’d taken home an emptiness that would never heal. One she’d never be able to fill.

She knew the only thing that could ever help her mend her broken soul was Tajan.

But that story had played out a long time ago. It was a tale about Tajan and Maggie. But she wasn’t Maggie. Not anymore. Now she was Rio. And she didn’t understand how or where she could possibly fit into Tajan and Maggie’s story.

She sat alone on the snack bar in her kitchen. For the first time in a long time she wore a pleasant smile as she read Billy’s letter.

Dear Rio:

I’m happy to hear that you’re recovering so well. I wish you would’ve stayed up here for a while during this period. But I can understand that you needed a change of scenery.

Everybody up here is doing well. My father, your uncle, says to say hello and that he sends his love. We hope that you understand, Rio, you were born a part of this family and you always will be a part of it.

You were right about that guy you hooked us up with. He did get us a fair price. Now, in the end, we’re an extremely wealthy tribe.

I do have some excellent news. Janey has agreed to marry me. Yes, can you believe it? I guess Maggie was right, huh? But you knew that all along, didn’t you?

The wedding is in August. I know it’s short notice but Janey and I both want you to be here. So, we’re hoping that you can get the time away.

Rio, I hope that someday you’ll find the means to be as happy as I am with Janey.

Your friend and cousin,

Billy Tajan

Tears soaked Rio’s eyes as she folded the letter up neatly and laid it on the counter. “Well…” she said, “I don’t think that’s ever going to happen for me, Billy.”

The telephone rang. It stopped Rio from dragging herself down, even further into the pit of despair which she seemed to be so friendly with these days.

She grabbed the receiver and looked at it, making sure it wasn’t her old friend Michelle. She wasn’t quite ready for her brand of digging just yet. Instead, thankfully, it was Michelle’s dad—Rio’s boss, and the man she’d been emailing while she was in Carson City.

Rio propped the phone against her ear. “Hello.”

“Hey, Rio,” Gabe Dalton said in a friendly tone. That in itself set Rio’s nerves on edge. Gabe was never this pleasant unless he wanted something. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, Gabe. Thanks.” She tried to remain cordial while waiting for his bomb.

“Hey, listen, I’m over at The Grill—” He said of the local agent hangout. “—why don’t you meet me over here?”

Really? He wanted to hang out with her and have a beer? He was definitely up to something. “What’s up?”

“I’d like to discuss your returning to work.”

“You’re not going to fire me, are you?”

Gabe shifted his cell phone from one ear to the other. “Are you crazy?” He was sitting at the bar with a beer in front of him and he was fiddling with a bowl of pretzels. “Why in the hell would I want to do that?”

“I’ll be right there.”

Gabe snapped his phone shut and turned to his companion.

Eddie LaCall wasn’t exactly what the department had deemed suitable ‘agent material’ with his long hair pulled back into a ponytail. He looked more like a renegade Native American. And in a lot of ways, Gabe guessed he was. But he was honest, straightforward and reliable—at least that’s the recommendation that had come with him from the Phoenix office.

“Rio…” Gabe shuddered at the thought of having to explain Rio Laraquette to anyone. “She’s a complicated person. She’s never had a partner. Never wanted one. And she won’t want one now,” he said. “So, if you’ll bear with her, until she gets over the initial surprise…because she is without a doubt, the best agent I’ve ever seen.” He gave his opinion, one he’d never openly admitted to her. “And I know you guys are going to work beautifully together.”

Eddie had a feeling this was going to bite him in the butt. New partners was always tough. But there was nothing tougher than a partner that didn’t want to be paired up. Oh well, at least it was a girl. Hopefully she wouldn’t be immune to his charms.

The front entrance of The Grill opened up and a hot redhead walked in. Alice Cooper was blaring over the sound system.

Could it be? God, he hoped so.

She scanned the bar until her eyes lit on Eddie’s new boss, Gabe. She smiled and headed toward him.

Well, all right. Opportunities like this didn’t come along every day. He sized her up with a smile. “Hum…”

She stopped between Eddie and Gabe. When her gaze landed on Eddie, a smile brightened her already gorgeous face.

Eddie’s heart fluttered with feelings he never knew he had. Suddenly, a profound infatuation awakened from somewhere deep within his soul.

He stood to greet her, offering a hand and a smile. She slipped her palm against his and the shook hands. Neither of them attempted to let go of the connection.

“You’re the partner…” she said, remembering Tajan’s prophesy in her vision quest. It hadn’t made since when she’d heard him say it, but...was it possible? Rio hadn’t missed the notion that this guy looked as much like Tajan as she did Maggie.

“Yes, I’m your new partner.” He gave her a nod and searched her eyes, as if looking for approval. “You okay with that?”

“Are you kidding?” Her delightful laughter filled the space around her. “This is great.” She jabbed her elbow into Gabe’s side, and whispered, “Get out of the way.”

Gabe got up and Rio sat down in his seat. She turned back to Eddie, who still had his hand wrapped around hers.

Gabe moved back and stood between them. After a moment’s pause, he gave a half-smile that suggested he was congratulating himself on this successful endeavor. “Rio Laraquette…Eddie LaCall.” He gestured between them. “You guys are now officially partners. Have dinner on me and get to know one another.” He turned and walked away.

Neither of them paid attention to Gabe as he disappeared outside the restaurant.

Eddie was happily engaged with Rio. He latched onto her other hand—the one he wasn’t already holding—and examined it. It was her left hand. He let his gaze travel slowly back up to meet hers. “No rings?”

She gave a one-sided shrug. “No husband, either.”

Eddie LaCall knew in an instant that his sole purpose for coming to Vegas had been derailed. But, as far as derailings go, Rio Laraquette was going to be an interesting one.

###

Thank you for taking the time to read BROKEN WINGS, book one in the Soul Searchers series. If you’re so inclined, I’d like to offer a couple of excerpts from my other books. One is from VEGAS, BABY (Soul Searchers: Book Two). The other is STAKED, the opening book of a brand new series called the Time Brokers.

~~~~

VEGAS, BABY

Soul Searchers: Book 2

By

Sandra Edwards

~~~~

PROLOGUE

The Council of Souls

Present Day

The Council’s gavel echoed through the infinite courtroom. The defendants: Souls A6-21684 and L3-38742 were “old” by Time’s standard and had been attached to many humans. But on this day only two of the souls’ assignments were important. Soul A6-21684 and its human counterparts Maggie Fuller and Rio Laraquette. And, L3-38742’s assigned beings known as the warrior Tajan and Eddie LaCall.

Both had been accused of “enlightening” Rio Laraquette of her existence in another lifetime in the form of Maggie Fuller. If found guilty, the penalty would not be pleasant.

The Supreme Being laid the gavel on the podium. “Before rendering the preapproved verdict, new evidence has been reported by the Commission of Destiny.” The Deity’s gaze landed on one defendant and journeyed across the open expanse to land on the other, A6-21684—who had tried to take full responsibility for the infraction, thereby sparing its counterpart—soul mate—any liability. A sentimental, yet predictable, act that would undoubtedly go uncelebrated by everyone except perhaps L3-38742. “According to the Commission’s findings, neither soul is responsible for the breach in timelines perpetrated on Rio Laraquette.”

“Then who is?” a small voice at the far side of the jury asked.

“No one,” said the Supreme Being. “Before either soul revealed the truth, a kiss of fate had been bestowed upon the young woman when she happened upon the place where her soul had lived in a previous life.”

“So what do we do?” someone else on the panel asked.

“Leave her be,” another judge suggested. “It matters little.”

“Unless the souls are scheduled to reunite.” The Supreme Being’s words caused a hush to fall over the courtroom.

The accused souls’ eyes met, locked, and their faces lit with smiles.

“I have reviewed the subject’s future,” said the Supreme Being. “It is the court’s opinion that if she remains in an enlightened state it will impede her chances of living a productive life. Therefore, it is the ruling of this court that when Rio Laraquette falls asleep on this night all traces that she was once Maggie Fuller in a former life will be erased permanently from her psyche.”

“What about her cousin, Billy Tajan?” a jury member asked.

“He is not an issue.” The Supreme Being’s voice echoed across the panel. “Once it becomes clear to him that Maggie Fuller is nothing more to Rio than their common ancestor with whom she bears a strong resemblance, he will stop believing the truths that have been shown to him.”

~~~~

Chapter 1

Las Vegas, Nevada

One Week Later

An eerie wind swept across the desert, whispering an omen that Eddie LaCall chose to ignore. He’d taken the Vegas gig for a change of pace, not to get spooked by superstition buried deep in his Navajo roots. Eddie disregarded the ghostly voices in favor of something more tangible. Catching the bad guys.

That’s why he’d been camped out all evening at Lou’s Café, a dump on the outskirts of town off the 15. The only thing this place was good for was setting up a sting. Nobody came for the food.

An overbearing aroma of burnt toast and strong coffee emanated from the back, the main reason Eddie had claimed a table near the door. The stench devoured his appetite.

He checked his watch. His perp had been in the john a long time. Eddie had run across his share of fast-talking criminals but Johnny Bellmore possessed a special kind of BS, one requiring practice and forethought.

Eddie scanned the diner. Two men seated at the counter, scarfing down burgers and fries, laughed between themselves. Another dined alone in a booth, and Eddie took him for a truck driver who’d been out on the road too long. Nobody but a homesick fool gobbled up Lonnie’s Meatloaf Special with such eager delight. Eddie had tried it two days ago and his stomach was still paying the price.

Lesson learned.

The waitress, Mary Beth, was on first name terms with Bellmore. That meant Eddie’s perp frequented this dump on a regular basis. Figures. He’d never understood the thought processes of the criminal mind. If he were a crook, he’d never do the deal in his own backyard. But Bellmore, like most reprobates, didn’t hold logic in high regard.

Mary Beth had been making eyes at Eddie for the last ten minutes. She maneuvered closer and squeezed past him, brushing her hips against his arm. Cheap perfume mingled with the smell of burgers and smothered the space around him with a thick nauseating vapor. The repulsive scent weighted his gut like lead.

Eddie’s perp exited the john and made his way across the diner. Bellmore hurried to the other side of the table and displayed that smug grin Eddie had come to loathe. He was going to enjoy ruining this guy’s life.

“All I’m saying, Tonto, is…” Bellmore picked up the conversation right where he’d left off before heading to the john. “You’re out of your league.”

Eddie bit back the urge to bitch-slap the guy.

For now.

Bellmore shook his head and waved his hands. His short, stubby fingers, weathered with time and neglect, landed against his face and stroked his dark straggly mustache. Wisps of grimy black hair peeked from under a San Francisco Giants baseball cap that was positioned perfectly to hide the upper portion of Bellmore’s face.

They needed a clear picture and Eddie needed a leg up on his smart-mouthed perp. He inched his hand across the table and laid claim to Bellmore’s steak knife with the tip of his forefinger. His attention remained fixed on his target as he dragged the eating utensil toward him in a deliberate, slow crawl. Without blinking, he snatched the knife and flung it at Bellmore, snagging his cap and pinning it to the wall.

Bellmore grabbed his bare head and whipped around, looking for his hat. “Freaking-A, Kemo Sabe.” He bounced back, gawking at Eddie with eyes ballooned by agitated surprise.

“You’re the one sweating, not me.”

“Huh?”

“You called me a soggy bush.”

“What?”

“A soggy bush. Kemo Sabe. It means soggy bush.”

Bellmore’s cool, aloof manner returned. “Are you sure?”

Not really, no. Eddie had no idea what Kemo Sabe meant. He’d bet Bellmore didn’t either. “I’m sure.”

The perp propped his hands on his thighs, tilted his head and looked at Eddie. He smirked, arrogance pouring out of his creepy grin.

Eddie flexed his hands and bunched them into fists at his sides. No, not yet. He couldn’t take him down, not until he got what he’d come for. Then he’d turn his new partner loose on Bellmore. That’s what this ill-mannered punk deserved, a little one-on-one time with Ms. Rio Laraquette—the most uptight, albeit beautiful, woman Eddie had ever met.

“Did you come here to do business or run your mouth?” Eddie raked his palm over his hair and loosened his ponytail. His head was starting to hurt.

“Okay, chief, show me the money.”

“I’ll show you the money when you show me the goods.” Eddie rocked the chair onto its back legs and folded his arms over his chest.

Bellmore shook his head and his bottom lip jutted out like he had chewing tobacco stuffed in his mouth. “Dude, you’re just a local player.” His gaze journeyed toward the door. “I don’t think you can come up with the cash…” His voice trailed off and his jaw dropped, Bellmore’s interest fixated on the diner’s entrance.

Eddie’s new partner waltzed into the diner. Her black skirt could’ve been a tube top once upon a time, until some hooker got hold of one and decided it was better served showing off her southern assets. A little red tank top clung to her curves like a thin layer of paint slathered over her breasts.

Rio Laraquette was all about looking the part. “If I’m going to play a hooker,” she’d said. “I need to look like one.” And she did. Granted, a high-priced one, but a hooker no less.

Being the new guy, Eddie couldn’t understand why nobody wanted to work with her. Rio was damn good at her job.

She strutted by and Eddie tilted his head, enjoying the view. Her legs, long and lean and looking good, streamed out from beneath her skimpy get-up. The good guy in him harnessed the bad and he checked his animal instincts.

“Hey, Tonto.” Bellmore’s voice barged into his thoughts. Eddie looked at his perp, but Bellmore’s eyes were on Rio. “Ain’t that your bitch, man?”

Eddie shot up and kicked the chair, slamming it against the floor with a loud WHACK. For a split-second Bellmore winced.

“You call me that again,” Eddie warned. “And I’ll kill you.”

Bellmore didn’t move. He sat frozen, his face frightened yet determined.

Eddie turned away. He had one chance to make this believable, and he was thankful Bellmore couldn’t see his face as he charged after Rio like a stampeding herd of buffalo, despite his tormenting hesitation.

Sensible judgment eluded him as he latched onto her arm and swung her against the wall. She landed with a thud, convincing him he’d been too harsh. “Sorry,” he mouthed, barely above a whisper.

Rio gave him a tolerant and forgiving smile. She winked and dragged a handful of strawberry-blonde curls out of her face. She had on a lot of makeup. The excessive eye shadow took away from the allure of her jade-green eyes.

“No, baby,” she said, in character. “I swear, I just need to use the toilet. I’m going right back out.”

“You better hurry up and get your ass back out there.” He gave her an appeasing wink.

A giggle resonated from Rio, lighting her half-opened eyes. She wriggled past him and disappeared into the ladies room.

Eddie cursed his luck. What were the odds of coming to Vegas and getting saddled with a partner who sent his pulses racing? Desire rumbled over him and he pushed it aside. He shouldn’t go there—no matter how much he wanted to—it was a bad idea.

He strode back to the table. A stoic face camouflaged the irritability grinding his teeth. He drew a wad of cash from his jacket pocket and tossed it at Bellmore. “I got plenty of money.” He yanked the chair off the floor and settled into it with a mocking nuance. “But I want to see the guns first.”

“Ton—dude.” Splicing the two words together, Bellmore was unable to contain his nervous cackle. “You need to lighten up.” He peered at Eddie with a look that said he was scared.

“Shit, Bellmore. Now I’m starting to think you’re trying to con me.” Eddie’s anger seethed out in a cold tone that chased off his perp’s remaining confidence.

“Hey, man.” Bellmore rolled his eyes to the right, like he was stalling to search for some courage. “I’m for real and my goods is for real.” His expression softened and his tone followed. “I just have to be careful, you know. There’s cops all over the place these days.”

“You’re telling me.” Eddie’s jovial laughter dismantled the remaining tension.

Bellmore’s stiffened face eased into an overconfident grin. “Come on.” He removed his cap from the wall and positioned it back on his head, concealing the upper portion of his face. “My ride’s right out front. Let’s go take a look.” The unsuspecting perp headed for the door, coaxing him with a passive wave.

Eddie snatched the money off the table and stuffed it inside his jacket. “This better be good,” he said, moving outside.

“Good...?” Bellmore cackled, approaching a vintage 70s Camaro just outside the diner’s entrance. “Man, I got shit lined up that your player-ass can only dream about.” He paused at the trunk, keys in hand, and a salacious grin curled under his moustache. The fresh air must have renewed his false sense of security. “Where did you find that sweet piece of—”

“If you keep stalling...” Eddie cut him off. “I’m going to end up doing something you’re probably not going to like.”

“Okay, okay.” Bellmore complained in slow, dawdling movements and then did the dumbest thing imaginable. He opened the trunk right in front of the restaurant. “I was just wondering how much she costs,” he said, sounding like a wounded kitten who’d just tried to challenge his big brother, and lost.

“Trust me. You don’t have enough money.” Eddie’s attention cut to the trunk. The dark blanket crumpled over the compartment made the hairs on his neck rise up.

Bellmore peeled back the coverlet, revealing a bevy of guns. “Ain’t these beauties sweet?”

Most were recognizably illegal. A few, while legally attainable, Eddie bet the serials had been removed.

“So how much for all of them?” Eddie rested one hand on the raised trunk.

Bellmore hesitated before answering. “Hundred grand.”

Eddie laughed.

“Okay, fifty.”

“Tell you what.” Eddie tapped his forefinger on the trunk twice before planting both hands on his hips. The perp needed a reason to negotiate. “I’ll give you thirty-five grand, and you get to spend some quality time with my best girl.”

The perp stared at the guns, lips moving silently.

“Well?” Eddie laid on the pressure.

“Two days.”

“Better take the deal before my offer drops to twenty-five and forget the girl.”

“Okay. Okay.” Bellmore gave in, seeing Rio exiting the diner. His interest lit and stayed on her. “Hey, baby. Get your sweet ass in the car.”

“Excuse me?” Ice daggers shot her words at Bellmore.

“Not yet,” Eddie said in a calm tone. “Not until the guns are transferred into my truck.”

Chattering voices turned Eddie’s head. Two hooker-looking chicks strolled toward them. He put the brakes on his urge to rant and curtailed it to just a thought. Damn it. This could turn ugly if they questioned Rio’s presence in their territory.

“J.B.” One of the girls chimed Bellmore’s initials in a sing-song voice. She looked high, and pleased to see him.

“Shit.” The word steamed through Bellmore’s teeth like the long, low whistle of a simmering teapot.

What? This wasn’t a good time? Looked like illegal guns weren’t the only thing Bellmore was supplying to the dark side of Vegas.

One of the hookers, the vocal one, shifted her gaze between Eddie and Rio. Eddie’s instincts magnified and he inspected the perimeter, looking for accomplices.

“Cop.” The hooker breathed the word, barely audible, yet Eddie heard it.

Uh-oh.

A distorted version of Bellmore’s movements stirred in Eddie’s peripheral vision. The guy was like a well-oiled machine dipping into the trunk and back out again. Eddie had no time to react and knew when he looked back at Bellmore, he’d see a gun pointed at his head.

Along the opposite corner of Eddie’s sight, Rio sailed toward them and dropkicked Bellmore to his knees, knocking the gun from his hand.

The weapon hit the pavement and discharged. The sound of the bullet ricocheting off the car resonated in Eddie’s ears. Instinct drove him to the ground.

Pain, sharp and stinging, blasted his left temple. Eddie slammed against the sidewalk. The space around him started spinning and his senses buckled.

The next couple of minutes played out as if he’d been trapped inside a haze. Undercover cops emerged from seemingly invisible places, swarming Bellmore and his hooker friends. Rio ignored the girls’ denials of wrongdoing and Bellmore’s unwavering insistence that he’d been framed.

Eddie’s headache intensified, swelling against his skull. His cognizance threatened desertion. He closed his eyes and remained still, willing away the stinging sensation.

“LaCall?” Rio shook him with a gentle nudge. “LaCall, can you hear me?” Her words breathed out with a forlorned sigh.

Mischievousness curled Eddie’s mouth into a playful grin. He opened one eye. “What? No mouth-to-mouth?”

“Damn it, LaCall.” She dropped to the pavement, as if he’d called her a speck of nothing. A used spec of nothing. “I thought you were dead.”

Not exactly the response or reaction he’d expect from an ice queen, the label she’d acquired from their coworkers. Perhaps unfairly.

“Dead? Not quite. Thanks to you.”

Still immersed in a hazy state of cobwebbed consciousness, getting up was harder than Eddie expected. A sitting position was as far as he got before the pain thumping against his skull yanked his concentration elsewhere.

He rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes, as if skewing his mouth could stop the agony from escaping. His fingers slid through the sticky, wet substance trickling along the side of his head and he knew he’d been hit.

Rio’s fingertips skimmed over his injury. “You okay?” she asked. “Maybe you should go to the hospital.”

Hospital? Was it that bad? No, it couldn’t be. He was conscious and he was sitting up. Not well, but he was sitting.

Eddie rejected the idea with a dismissive nod. To prove himself, he pushed up from the ground. His mind wavered and his body followed. He settled back onto the sidewalk and cradled his head in one hand.

“That’s it.” She reached inside her tank top and pulled a cell phone from her cleavage. “You’re going to the hospital.”

“Come on, Laraquette, I’m telling you...all I need is a little mouth-to-mouth.” He let his quarrelsome laughter work its magic. With any luck, he’d ensnare her easily. It would make his job so much easier in the long run. So long as he remembered it was all for the sake of his mission.

* * *

Eddie awakened in a hospital room that looked like it’d been decorated to resemble a hotel room. Spring green walls, flowery paintings and matching curtains failed to live up to the disguise’s potential. Machines and hospital gadgets still stuck out like a penny waiting for change.

Why am I still here? Wrapping his head around that was like trying to grab hold of a butterfly. Every time he got close, it flew away.

He let the thought go, in favor of, why was Rio camped out at his bedside. Her feet were propped up on the bed, and she was fully engrossed in a crosswords magazine. The puzzle on the page facing him was finished.

Finished. That meant she’d been at his side a long time. But why? Why was she playing the role of the dutiful partner? They’d only known each other a week. Everybody had an angle. He doubted Rio Laraquette was an exception.

She nibbled the pen’s cap, her green-eyed gaze glued to the magazine. Her face brightened with a smile. She tapped the pen against the page twice and propped the magazine on her thigh and began filling in the puzzle boxes.

He should let her know he’d awakened, but he didn’t want to startle her. Charming the girl was more conducive than frightening her. He could always clear his throat, but where was the fun in that? Teasing her seemed like a lot more fun. And it drove her nuts.

“I don’t trust anyone who does crosswords in ink.” He tried to pump humor into his voice.

She peered over the top of the magazine. “What’s your trouble with inkers?”

“They’re too sure of themselves.”

Rio’s feet slammed against the floor. “Well, it’s about time, LaCall.” An arched eyebrow indicated her amusement. “If you think you’re pawning off those Bellmore reports on me, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Eddie chuckled. “This is definitely where I pretend I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Seriously, how’s your head?” Her words changed with her tone, growing softer. Consoling. “Not too much pain, I hope. Doc says you’re going to be fine.”

Again, not the actions of an ice queen. Eddie was nearing to the conclusion his colleagues were wrong about his new partner.

“It’s just a flesh wound,” he said. “Of course I’m going to be okay.” Obliging gratitude sedated his mood. “Thanks.”

“For...?”

“For kicking Bellmore’s ass.” He gave her props for single-handedly bringing the guy to his knees. And just in time, too. Otherwise, Eddie could be having a conversation with a totally different kind of being.

She tilted her head, as if shrugging off the importance of her actions. “All in a day’s work.”

“Well, if that’s routine, I definitely want us to remain partners.” He settled his gaze on her. “You know Dalton better than I do. Any chance he’ll make our assignment permanent?” A continued partnership with Rio couldn’t be as bad as everybody was saying.

“I’d say there’s a fair chance of that happening.” She leaned back in the chair and laid the crosswords magazine across her chest, folding her arms over it. She was good at evasiveness. “How do you like Vegas so far?” Her soft voice held all the innuendo he imagined.

He couldn’t resist. “Oh, I like Vegas a lot.”

A faint, sensual light passed between them. He felt it. By the look on her face, awkward reticence, she had too. She glanced away shyly, dragging her fingers through her hair. He wouldn’t mind tangling those red curls—

Eddie evicted that notion right away. Flirting with her, charming her into divulging information was one thing. But getting involved with her was not smart. Not even on a lustful level. Thinking about it probably wouldn’t hurt, but he couldn’t afford the distraction.

“What made you decide to leave Phoenix, anyway?” she asked, dragging his mind in another direction.

She’s good at diversion. A fine quality for a cop. Now, if he could only direct her away from her present line of questioning.

“I just needed a change of scenery.” He spoke the words, vague and illusive. He didn’t know any other way to explain his presence in Vegas. Somehow, he’d always known he wasn’t going to find what he was looking for in Phoenix.

“Well, I’ve got to run.” She stood and draped her hand over his in a wistful gesture. “I’ve got to get our reports done.” She backed away with a devastating, irresistible grin and moved toward the door.

He wished she wouldn’t tease him but since she had, two could play this game. “Mouth to mouth, Laraquette.” He pointed an accusatory finger at her. “If you look on the chart, I’m sure it’s there.”

“You’re so bad.” She giggled and pushed the door open with her backside. Tilting her head, she glanced at him with dreamy eyes.

“Yes, but you like it.”

She disappeared into the hallway and he continued to stare at the door. Thoughts of Rio Laraquette, his undisclosed mission, and how close he’d come to dying swirled together, tangling inside his head. Damned if it wasn’t enough to give a guy a headache.

He pushed the near-death experience out of his mind, preferring the other two, more pleasant, musings remain front and center.

Rio had earned her place, fondly and rightfully so, in his book of respect. After what she’d done for him, he hoped she wasn’t his target.

The door opened, pulling his ramblings away from the mission. Temporarily.

His coworker Chris Bradley stepped inside the room, and Eddie checked his surprise before it had the chance to crease his brow.

Bradley greeted him with a firm handshake. “It’s good to see you awake and alert. How are you feeling?”

“Restless,” Eddie said. Bradley backed into the same chair Rio had used. “My injury was nothing more than a flesh wound. I don’t know why I’m still here.”

“I’m sure you’ll get released in due time.” Settling into the chair, Bradley folded his arms across his chest. “Melody was released. Want me to find her? Unofficially of course.”

“Melody?”

“The hooker that got you shot.”

“Nah, let’s put Melody on the backburner for now.” Eddie could think of a hundred different reasons to let the hooker think she was safe. She might prove useful later.

Right now, he was more troubled by Bradley’s presence at the hospital and his so-called concern. They weren’t friends. Eddie wasn’t friends with anybody here. Hell, he’d only been in town ten days. Nobody makes friends that fast.

Nevertheless, whatever Bradley was up to, Eddie would find out. In the meantime, he’d jump on the guy’s hook and reel him in close. “Did you see what Laraquette did?”

Bradley’s head jerked toward him. “What’d she do?” He was way too interested to suit Eddie.

“From out of nowhere, Bellmore had a gun in my face and she kicked his ass.” He relayed what inevitably sounded like a tall-tale. “If she’d hesitated one second, he would’ve blown my head off.”

A smile, distant and lonely, crossed Bradley’s face and he relaxed. “Well, that’s Laraquette. She thinks quick on her feet.”

“Tell me about it.” Thoughts of what might have happened had she not reacted so swiftly knocked at Eddie’s mind. Again, he didn’t understand why nobody wanted to work with her. Hell, she was his hero. “It’s amazing how she did that. The whole thing was remarkable, surreal but remarkable.”

“Incredibility and Laraquette seem to go hand in hand these days.”

“How so?” Eddie gave him a lead in, always curious to know more about his new partner, the ever-elusive Rio Laraquette.

“She’d been investigating Turner Atkins for well over two years, relentlessly. Never gave up.” Bradley’s disdain for the Las Vegas mob boss seeped out in his voice, his gaze, his demeanor. “When she finally got inside his organization, he sent her up to Carson City to be part of some con he had going on. She ended up taking a bullet for one of his marks—” Bradley’s cell phone chimed, drawing his attention away from the story. He glanced at the device, studied it, then turned back to Eddie. “Duty calls. I’ve got to run.” He rose and extended his hand to Eddie. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Eddie didn’t pay much attention to Bradley’s departure. Instead, he let his thoughts wrap back around Rio Laraquette.

Law enforcement officials professed to uphold the “protect and serve” motto, but how many of them really meant it? Very few, as he was coming to learn. She actually proved it, and that elevated her in his eyes.

Every day it was something new. Either she delivered some awe-inspiring deed, or he’d hear some incredible story about her past exploits. He had to admit, he found Rio Laraquette utterly fascinating and puzzling and too good to be true.

* * *

Mission Impossible jingled on Eddie’s cell phone, pulling him out of a light slumber.

He’d fallen asleep. When did that happen?

The meds, he thought, waking. That’s why he’d fought against taking them. He didn’t like losing control to anything or anyone.

He reached for the phone on the nearby stand. A text message. He flipped up the phone and punched a couple of buttons to bring the message up on the screen.

That bitch is dead!

~~~~

** Thank you for taking a look at this free preview of VEGAS, BABY. If you’re interested in reading the book in its entirety it’s available at Smashwords, Amazon’s Kindle Store, BN’s Nook Store, and various other outlets.

Please keep reading if you’d like a taste of my latest release, STAKED (Time Brokers: Book One). It’s a paranormal tale about vampires, time travel and a little romance. **

~~~~

STAKED

Time Brokers: Book One

By

Sandra Edwards

~~~~

Chapter One

New York City

Tonight

Ava Valentine scooped up the last of the Sun Stones and closed her fist around their lingering glow. She held tight, ignoring the sting, and absorbed the pain before it sheathed her apprentice Mickey. Ava had long since developed a high tolerance to the physical suffering that came with brokering time, and that made her bounty hunting services invaluable.

Mickey cleared his throat—his way of pretending that traveling through time didn’t hurt. He was getting stronger, but not yet capable of handling the raw side-effects alone. Someday he’d have to absorb the full impact, but not today. Today he remained under Ava’s protection.

The stinging subsided as Ava dispensed the pea-sized gems into a pouch no bigger than a teabag. She tightened the drawstring and secured it on her belt loop before tucking the little purse into the waistband of her blue jeans.

An uneasy silence spilled across the cool night air and swirled around Ava and Mickey. She scanned the darkened, desolate alley and eased the MPD from her back pocket. Not that the Micro Placement Device, a Blackberry-type gadget, could offer much support in the way of protection, but in these electronically-underdeveloped times it’d do three things well. One, verify when and where they were. Two, allow Mickey and her to communicate over a secured connection if they got separated. And three, confirm they’d landed in the same time period as their fugitive.

Another glance around the alley and Ava beckoned Mickey to follow her.

“I think the jump was easier this time.” He shivered and tucked his fingertips inside the front pockets of his jeans.

“Soon enough it won’t bother you at all.” Okay, so that was a lie. As far as Ava knew, she was the only broker who’d ever developed a tolerance to the pain of transporting passengers through time—the only thing that kept every Karellian within traveling distance of the galaxy from swarming Earth and selling their services to the highest bidder.

The pain—she’d heard some describe as excruciating—kept the number of Brokers to a minimum. It took a certain kind of person to step inside the bowels of hell for mere money. Some handled it better than others, but most didn’t even want to try.

“When do you think I’ll be ready to broker?” Mickey was one of the few willing to bear the pain for justice.

“Baby steps, my friend. Baby steps.” Ava had been sharing the pain with him lately, but at a rate of less than ten percent. It’d be awhile before he was strong enough to handle even twenty-five percent, much less broker time.

Booze was just the medicine Mickey needed. The nagging ache often dwindled within half an hour after entry, and by her calculations they had another twenty minutes before he was one hundred percent. A stiff shot might hurry that along.

“You want to get a beer or something?” Truth be known, Ava could go for a drink too. Maybe it’d help settle her nerves; they hadn’t been right since the new contact entered the picture. He was someone she’d never met, and that saddled her with a whole new set of problems when it came to chasing bounty.

“Can we?” Mickey licked his lips, anticipating a cold one, and quickened his step, skipping sideways alongside her. “Do we have time?”

“Sure.” Besides, she’d arranged to meet the new guy at a familiar pub. She didn’t have a problem mixing business with pleasure. In fact, she combined the two whenever possible. It also helped that twenty-first century bars were a favorite pit stop for those she chased.

They turned left at the next corner and headed for a little bar called Louie’s. Thoughts of the neon-blue sign hanging over the door and the pink and green palm tree in the window brought a smile to her lips. Louie’s was always one of her first stops when tracking bounties to the early twenty-first century.

For some reason, twenty-ninth century criminals thought the twentieth and twenty-first centuries were grand hiding places. Why, Ava had no idea. The period’s urban life had its charms, like the music, but she wouldn’t want to live in this time. Most things had to be done manually and the technology was rudimentary.

A chill clawed up Ava’s back as they turned another corner. Somebody was watching her. Who, she didn’t know, but she tagged a mental note to keep tabs on her shadow.

Seeing the pub’s sign all lit up in neon-blue brought back memories, both good and bad. “Ah, Louie’s...here it is.” She paused at the door and her mood lightened a little inside.

“You know this place?” Mickey asked. She was pretty sure he’d thrown it at her more out of curiosity than nosiness.

“Indeed, I do. Very well.” But she didn’t want to talk about it. More to the point, she didn’t want to talk about him. And she didn’t want to give him a heads-up on their location, either.

They could always sense when one was talking about the other, Ava and...him. It was a lot like amplified ESP. Another Karellian gift. Although, and she hated admitting it, his tracking ability was stronger than hers because he was full Karellian. She was only half; the rest of her was Mortal. He blamed her Mortal side for their differences.

That’s rich. She could’ve sworn the problem was his greed and thinly veiled ethics.

Mickey asked, “Is this another one of those places with a story you’re not talking about?”

A chuckle charged up Ava’s throat and she silently thanked him for the mental rescue. She didn’t like thinking about those days. The effort was fruitless.

Lingering aggravation from her past made her fling open the door harder than she’d meant. But it didn’t rattle her composure. She was too much of a control freak for that.

Mickey followed her into the near-empty tavern. “Is this where we’ll find Cole?” he asked, over the music pouring from the jukebox. ‘Take it Easy’ from The Eagles, one of Ava’s all-time favorite bands, flowed from the ancient machine.

“No, but we should run into someone who can lead us to him.” Ava held her breath on that one, not knowing the contact personally.

“Someone we can trust?”

Lying to Mickey wasn’t an option. “Not sure.” She shook her head and scanned the room, an inbred trait.

A couple, the only patrons occupying the row of booths to the left, weren’t the least bit interested in Ava and Mickey. The woman sat on one side; the guy on the other. Both were draped over the tabletop, hands and arms tangled so tightly it was hard to tell where one stopped and the other began.

Red and gold hues swirled around the pair and cloaked them in a veil only Ava could see. The color combination showed their desire for red-hot sex.

Ava pulled her focus away from the couple. No point in exhausting her limited energy on the would-be lovers. They posed no danger.

An old man sat at the far end of the bar, hunched over a half-empty glass. His scruffy, graying hair reminded Ava of Mickey’s—minus the gray. A mauve aura, the color of solitude, surrounded the old-timer. He needed no conversation, just the bottle. No threat there.

All the tables on the right were empty except for one near the bar. Two women, technically hookers, looked at Ava and Mickey, mostly Mickey, and giggled amid clandestine whispers. Those short skirts, tank tops and fishnet get-ups turned Mickey’s face red.

Tones of smoky-black and candy-apple red danced and shimmered around the women. They were lying in wait for their next victim, but Ava wasn't about to let that be Mickey.

“Come on, Skippy,” she said, dragging him by the arm. As they passed by the girls some vile-smelling perfume crawled up Ava’s nose and turned her stomach.

“Why do you call me that?” Mickey asked, exasperation shredding his voice.

Someday, she’d take him back to the 1980s and show him. He reminded her of that kid from Family Ties that was in love with Mallory. The one they called Skippy.

Ava chose the empty end of the bar and dragged a stool out with the heel of her boot. The chair’s legs screeched across the wooden floor.

“Ava. Long time no see.” Phillip, the bartender, greeted her with a lonesome smile that was locked in some dark area of his past. A lavender fog flowed around him. Her presence had summoned a flicker of amusement in his memories.

Don’t do it. Don’t say his name. Ava’s silent warning, she knew, would go unheeded. “What can I say, Phil,” she said. “I’m a busy girl.” Better to guide the barkeep as far away from him as possible. She settled onto the bar stool and hung the heels of her boots on the rails. “I’ll have the usual. My friend Mickey will have...” She knew what he was going to order before she turned to him, but sometimes it was fun to play these games.

“I’ll have what she’s having,” Mickey said.

How original. And predictable. Mickey could’ve benefited from Lucien’s company back in the day. On second thought, that might’ve been like sending a mouse to train with an elephant.

Shit. Now she’d done it. She’d let his name rattle off her brain. How long before he showed up? Half hour? Forty-five minutes tops.

“How’s Lucien these days?” Phil asked, setting the frosted drafts in front of them.

“I wouldn’t know,” Ava said, hoping to sound nonchalant. “I haven’t seen him in years.” And she wished Phil would stop talking about him. Lucien would find her so much quicker if the conversation didn’t change, and fast.

The door creaked open and the hairs at the nape of her neck rose amid goose bumps. Some strange magic was at work.

Lucien? No. Not Lucien, but somebody equally as dangerous. Could Ava’s contact be a vampire?

Uh oh.

She fought the urge to look at the figure claiming a seat at the bar, leaving an empty stool between them. An overwhelming scent trickled over her and drew her in with the ease of a fishing lure. Definitely male, and possibly vamp.

The desire to look at him needled at her, but it wasn’t a good idea even though she wanted to in the worst way. Was he a vampire, or wasn’t he?

Ava didn’t like messing with vamps. Still, he had another thing coming if he thought she’d give up her bounty.

She glanced in the mirror behind the bar and wrestled with the urge to preen her hair. The chestnut color looked browner than usual and she prayed it didn't look as drab as her reflection portrayed in the subdued lighting.

Pathetic. Either Ava was pitiful or this guy was a vampire with superpowers. She hadn’t even looked at him but he’d already wielded an intoxicating influence over her.

His image in the mirror resided just outside her peripheral vision—whoever said vamps don’t have reflections was probably a vampire poking fun at some Mortal.

Ava tried to look at him in the mirror in an offhanded way. His dark eyes caught and tangled her in a mixture of turmoil and curiosity, even though he wasn’t looking at her. A wave of lust washed over her, followed by a powerful need to move to the empty stool separating them. She wanted this guy. She wanted him in the worst way. This desire she was feeling was stronger than anything she’d ever experienced—even the attraction she used to feel for Lucien.

Damn it. She was a goner.

The magnetic stranger was talking to the guy sitting on the other side of him, and paying no attention to Ava whatsoever. She lowered her head and inched it to the left until she had a good view of—his boots.

Typical footwear of twentieth century bikers. It was hard to say if it was his normal attire or a trite disguise. Seasoned Levi’s clothed his long, lanky legs and dragged her attention up to his athletic torso covered by a black, skintight T-shirt. Bronzed muscular arms rested against the bar. Long, slender fingers loosely encircled the beer bottle Phil had placed in front of him. Ebony-black hair had been tied into a pony-tail and hung down his back nearly to his waist. Several inches longer than her own, Ava marveled at the perseverance it took to grow it to such lengths. His face, chiseled and clean-shaven, was as bronze as his compelling arms that were capable of....

Geez, he was good to look at. And most definitely a vamp. Who else could bewitch her like this? Hell, he hadn’t even looked at her yet and she was already under his spell.

Finally, he turned toward her. Self-preservation urged Ava to look away before their eyes met, but she couldn't. His deep coffee-brown eyes latched onto her gaze and held it with some infinite, indefinable power.

She’d been hoping against hope that her talent for reading emotions would confirm or deny her suspicions. Was he or wasn’t he? He could hide among the shadows of the night and cast as many spells over her as he could conjure, but his vampire attributes would still be there, camouflaged.

She gave reading him a go and drew a blank. If she couldn’t read him that was verification within itself. Wasn’t it? A deep sigh did little to settle the troubling outcome.

“How’s it going?” he said, and then had the gall to wink. He continued looking at her, as if waiting for her to say something. When she didn’t, he said, “It’s a nice night for a walk in the park.”

A sinking feeling dragged her fears down into her gut and tangled them in knots. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much trouble projecting a calm front. Was he her contact, or just a vampire invading her thoughts? Or was he both? “It’s better down by the river. South side.” She spoke the code, fearful of his answer.

“Maybe tomorrow night.”

Damn. All his responses were correct. Still, dread washed over her. Ava tried, but couldn’t shake the feeling that this was going to lead to trouble.

“Do you have a lock on Cole’s location?” she asked.

“As we speak.” He tipped the beer bottle to his mouth and drained nearly half its contents. “You have the jewels?”

“You’ll get your payment when I get Cole.”

Bridled laughter preceded his response. “Fair enough.”

“Whenever you’re ready.” She still had reservations about him, but she doubted it had anything to do with his ability to lead her to Cole.

“You got a ride?” He raised the bottle to his lips and chugged the remainder of his beer.

“No.” She doubted it would help to explain that her ‘ride’ was in the twenty-ninth century, and she didn’t need one here. Once she got Cole, she planned to lay out her Sun Stones and take him back where he’d run from.

Ava’s contact stood, shoving the barstool back with his foot. “You can go with me. Your boyfriend can ride with Skeet.” He moved away from the bar and headed toward the door. He didn’t wait or look over his shoulder to see if she was following.

Ava quickened her pace, catching up to him. Two could play this game. “You got a name? Or should I just call you, hey?”

“Stone.”

It was all she could do to keep from laughing. “Stone?” What the hell kind of name was that? It sounded like a product of the twentieth century, something a pair of stoners would name their kid.

“Yeah, Stone. You got a problem with that?” He turned away, pretty much dismissing her as he shoved his hand against the wooden door. It swung open with the force of his frustration.

“No. No problem at all.” She laced her hands behind her back and snickered as she followed him outside. “You’re the one who’s got to live with it.”

Mickey was hot on Ava’s tail. “Are you sure about this?” he said, just above a whisper. Which was pointless. He could take both these guys at once. She’d seen him in action. He was a black belt in Karate. Mickey could definitely kick some ass. A trait that came in handy for time-traveling bounty hunters.

Ava remained silent, and gave Mickey a quick nod to follow her lead. One thing she was sure of—this guy was going to take them to Cole.

Stone slipped a set of keys from his front pocket and began unfastening a small chain securing two helmets to an old Indian—old, even by the current time period’s standards.

She’d pegged him right. He was the biker type. She gave herself an imaginary pat on the back for her skilled insight.

“Here.” He shoved a helmet toward her. “Put this on.”

Ava took the gear and slipped it over her head, fastening the strap. “Thanks.” Snootiness overtook her tone; she didn’t care if he found her offensive.

But he didn’t. He paid her no mind, grabbed a handlebar and straddled the massive machine. Okay, Ava had to admit the motorcycle was kind of cool with its black frame, chrome forks, valanced fenders and that rich, blood-red color gleaming against the streetlights’ glow. It was breathtaking, and so was he.

A grin spread across his face as he turned to her and rested his hands on his thighs. “You coming or what?”

She moved toward him at a snail’s pace, knowing what was coming once she mounted his bike. In her peripheral vision, Mickey didn’t look happy behind Skeet.

Ava laid her hand on Stone's shoulder and climbed behind him, leaving as much space between them as possible without sitting on the rear fender.

“You’d better come closer if you don’t want to fall off.” His tone held a mixture of amusement and arrogance. She didn’t like it. “I’m sure your boyfriend will understand.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” As much as she didn’t want to, she scooted closer to Stone. “He’s my associate,” she added of Mickey.

Stone turned the key on the bike and it roared to life. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?” His laughter droned through Ava, keeping time with the bike’s growl.

She leaned toward his ear. “Be a smart ass if you want, but Mickey is my brother.” It wasn’t a total lie. That’s how she saw Mickey.

He turned to look at her. “Brother, huh?” His expression hardened.

“Yes.” She nodded. As long as she felt it, it was so.

He dragged up the kickstand. “Well, all right.” The engine revved and the bike charged off, yanking her backward. Ava locked her arms around his waist to keep from falling off.

Humiliation charred her cheeks, but soon her shame gave way to annoyance. She cleared her throat, wanting to cast out the disagreement, anxiety, and doubt.

Loosening her rigid hold on him, she trailed her fingertips to his sides and laid her hands freely against his fine, firm body. Her face flushed hot again, but not from shame, resentment, or irritation.

Skeet and Mickey cruised up beside them and Stone let off the gas, slowing.

“Dex, 4th or Auburn?” Stone’s companion said over the roar of the motorcycles.

Dex? What the hell?

“Let’s go 4th,” Stone replied.

Ava leaned in, pressing her breasts against his back. He laid a hand on her thigh and tugged at her leg, as if coaxing her closer. She ignored the gesture.

“I thought you said your name was Stone?” She asked over the bike’s thunder.

“It is. My name is Dexter Stone. But you can call me Stone.” He slowed, approaching a red traffic light. Dropping his feet to the ground, he glanced over his shoulder. “And what should I call you?”

“Ava,” she said, resting her hands, palms down, on her thighs. “My name is Ava Valentine.”

“Well, Ava Valentine, we’re going to make a little stop before I take you to Cole.”

What? Agitation pumped faster through her veins and pounded her heart against her chest. This guy was supposed to be trustworthy. She was going to kill Lorenzo Leighton, the dipshit that hooked her up with Dexter Stone—if she made it out of this alive.

“Where exactly are we going?” she asked, trying to conceal her anxiety.

“I just want to confirm that your payment is genuine.” He must have sensed her body tighten, because he laid a hand on her thigh again and caressed it as if they’d already been intimate. “Don’t worry, sweetheart...as long as the jewels are real, you’re safe with me.”

His touch heated her blood, flushing it hot against her skin. She wanted to be safe with him, just as much as she wanted to feel indifferent. Stalled somewhere in the middle, she couldn’t quite make either mark.

The light turned green. “Hold on.”

Appreciating the warning, she slid her hands around his midriff and his rippling muscles ensnared her. They soared in front of Skeet and Mickey with the wind chilling her cheeks. The farther they traveled down 4th Street, the more deserted and dangerous the neighborhood became. She didn’t like it, but she had no choice. Not if she wanted her bounty.

Amongst the stone shoulders of the city, a few lights streamed by in the darkness. The stench of decaying refuse mingled with the more pungent aromas of the river a few blocks away. It smelled like fish. The near-deserted streets conveyed a lost, lonely feeling—one that loomed with imminent danger.

They slowed to a stop in front of a pawn shop. Ava scrutinized the immediate area, sensing nothing threatening. She glanced at Stone, tried to read him again and got nothing. But Skeet had this brassy glow around him. He didn’t care for whoever they’d come to see.

Uneasiness crowded her confidence. Her niggling attraction for Stone, and the fact that he may or may not be a vampire was messing with her head.

A sense of urgency commandeered her judgment and she followed Stone around the corner to a side door. Raw desire cajoled her to wrap her arm around his, to run her fingers down the length of his bare arm, but she refrained and counted off three steps instead.

A twisted vamp spell was behind this affliction. It had to be. Confusing it with anything else was risky, not to mention stupid. Ava needed to push it aside, and she’d start by putting a little distance between herself and Dexter Stone. She had to overpower this impediment, and fast.

Stone paused at the door and looked over his shoulder. He turned his palm up and waved his fingers at her, flashing one of those hurry-up-you’re-wasting-my-time looks.

“What?” Ava threw her frustration out with that one word.

“Come on.” He waggled his fingers. “Cough ‘em up.”

Mickey stopped beside Ava and leaned against the building. I don’t like this. His voice invaded her head, even though he hadn’t said a word out loud.

Me either, Mickey. Me either. She glimpsed into Mickey’s eyes. Maybe you’d better wait out here.

Just yell if you need me.

That’s one of the things Ava liked about Mickey—his absolute trust in her direction.

Stone nudged her shoulder. “Time’s wasting.”

Ava latched onto Stone’s arm and used him as a prop. Electrified desire pulsed through her. She tried to pull away, but it was like she was magnetized to him. He didn’t move while she stuffed her finger and thumb inside her boot and fished out the small leather pouch. “Here,” she said, handing him the cache. “I expect you to keep your end of the bargain,” she said, thankful she still had her wits about her, even if she couldn’t control her desires.

“Or what?” He winked and raked his hand against hers, taking the jewels.

Ava masked the awkwardness by feigning boredom. “Let’s just get on with it. I’m in a hurry.”

“Uh huh.” Stone’s tone matched the doubt crinkling his brow. He turned away and opened the door to a dimly lit room.

A cloak of caution swathed around Ava, but she stepped through the door anyway. Lucien used to say that was a fault of hers, ignoring her intuition.

Damn it. There he was again, invading her thoughts. She forced her brain in another direction, scrutinizing the inside of the building.

A musty smell permeated from all the junk on the shelves lining the walls. Glass-top cabinets formed a rectangle around the center, showcasing rows of sparkling jewelry under miniature spotlights.

She followed Stone to the opposite end of the store and gave reading him another shot. The process was a lot like trying to interpret a blurry x-ray, the information was there, yet lost in the distortion.

Wasting her energy on someone she couldn’t grasp was not conducive. In fact, it was dangerous. She only had so much to spare. Instead, she settled on someone easier. Skeet’s emotions still glowed bright and brassy, giving her no indication she should be worried. The man was nothing more than annoyed.

That didn’t stop the blaring alarms and warning signals overloading Ava’s brain. Something was wrong, but she wasn’t leaving without her bounty.

She tapped out a divertive tune on the counter with her pink-tipped fingernails.

Stone stopped her with a gentle hand. “This’ll just take a minute.” He looked at her while passing the jewels to the guy emerging through a door behind the counter.

Ava slipped her hand out from under Stone’s. “Good, because that’s about all the time I’ve got to spare.”

Stone ignored her, watching the guy with the jewels instead. The stranger looked over a couple of pieces and returned them to the pouch. He pushed the small bag across the counter toward Stone and then cleared his throat. “Where’d you get these?”

“Are they real?” The tension in Stone’s voice reached out and knotted Ava with agitation, even though she knew she had nothing to fear—as far as the jewels were concerned.

“A more real gem...” The jeweler shook his head. “I have never seen.”

Stone dragged the pouch off the counter and shook a diamond into his hand before stuffing the rest into the front pocket of his Levi’s. “Thanks,” he said, offering the gem.

Ava’s opinion of Stone plummeted. He was either very generous or incredibly stupid. Even the smaller stones represented a steep payment just to confirm the jewels’ authenticity.

The jeweler took the diamond and a smile stretched across his face. Ava cringed. He slipped the diamond in his front pants’ pocket and glanced over his shoulder.

Uh oh. Who was the jeweler looking for? Dread ripped through Ava’s veins like an out-of-control raft riding the rapids.

Insight exploded in her head and pounded out through her ears. Sometimes her Karellian blood felt more like a curse than a good thing. Especially when she realized stuff a split-second before it happened—too late to react.

She closed her eyes. As if that was going to help. Maybe if she didn’t see him, he’d go away. Fat chance.

“Well, well, well...” Lucien’s familiar voice clouded around her like a stifling fog and she opened her eyes. “If it isn’t Nevada Valentine.”

She wasn’t surprised to see the two guys lurking behind Lucien, hanging on to Cole like he was some kind of prize.

The sight of Lucien pulling something out of his jacket’s inner pocket and Stone stepping in front of her was the last thing Ava remembered before everything faded to black.

~~~~

Chapter Two

Freaking tiki powder. That crap was like troll dust on steroids, and somebody had drenched Ava with a liberal dosing.

She ignored the side-effect—akin to a dozen imps pounding spiked hammers against the inside of her skull—and prepared to open her heavy-laden eyes.

If only her will was as strong as her ability to read people. Then she could easily dissolve the bonds forcing her eyelids shut—an after-effect of the tiki powder. Rubbing her eyes didn’t dissolve the pasty sensation, but she managed to pry them open anyway.

The hammering inside her head escalated. Apparently the little rascals didn’t like reality creeping in, and opening her eyes was like opening the curtains on a bright, sunshiny day, even though it was near-dark inside the pawn shop.

Ava’s heartbeat spiraled when she saw Mickey and Skeet lying in the doorway, neither of them moving. She dragged her head to the other side, even though it felt like she’d been fitted with a cement cap.

Stone was lying at her side, inches away. That was both liberating and troubling. Ava’s instincts had put him at the top of Lucien’s payroll.

Lucien St. James.

The man was a walking nightmare. And the biggest mistake she’d ever made. Stealing her bounty was one thing. That was part of the game. But he’d called her by that name.

Nevada.

Ava hated that name. And now, thanks to Lucien, a whole slew of people knew about it. Lucien was going to pay for that. Somehow, some way, she’d make him pay.

Just not right now. Right now she had to figure out how he’d managed to steal her bounty out from under her. He’d obviously had help.

Damned vamps. You can’t trust ’em.

~~~~

** Thank you for taking a look at this free preview of STAKED. If you’re interested in reading the book in its entirety it’s available at Smashwords, Amazon’s Kindle Store, BN’s Nook Store, and various other outlets. **

Table of Contents

Foreword

PART ONE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

PART TWO

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

PART THREE

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

PART FOUR

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

PART FIVE

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

PART SIX

CHAPTER 32

PART SEVEN

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 38

CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 40

CHAPTER 41

CHAPTER 42

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Chapter Two