Chapter 1 #2
Who could have dropped it here? No one came out the back exit except her and her assistant, Soledad Yazzie. Artists, clients and customers entered and exited through the front entrance unless there was a major event that involved catering. Even regular deliveries didn’t come through this door.
Despite all evidence to the contrary, she couldn’t shake the disquiet she’d felt at the thought of an intruder.
She went back to the Bronco and cut the engine.
The headlights dimmed until the area behind the gallery was enveloped in darkness.
Sassy rattled the keys companionably as she approached the back door again.
She fumbled for the right one and shoved it into the lock.
The satisfying clicking of releasing tumblers answered as she turned it, then flung the door wide.
It was pitch-black inside.
She flipped on the light.
The storeroom was as she’d left it, everything in its place. The organization here had more to do with Soledad. Sassy was notoriously untidy.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the plate-glass window on the wall.
It was a good thing Ryan hadn’t answered…
and that Nick was out of town. With her pillow-creased face, messy hair sticking out of the trapper hat, rumpled clothes and wild eyes, she’d probably scared the raccoons more than they’d scared her.
It was a wonder their souls hadn’t left their bodies at the sight of her.
Tugging off the hat, she looked around again, double-checking that everything was as she remembered.
Then she moved on to the next room, the gallery itself.
She wandered from one display to another until she assured herself there wasn’t a dust mote out of place.
The only faces that greeted her were those of the subjects in the paintings or the wooden and ceramic sculptures atop pedestals.
The cash register behind the front desk, Soledad’s domain, lay undisturbed. Sassy had taken the day’s earnings to the bank before she’d headed home for the night. The front doors, too, were locked tight.
With a sigh, she climbed the narrow, winding staircase to her upstairs office.
She didn’t keep cash here, so she never locked the door. Stepping into the room, she switched on the light and leaned heavily against the jamb.
The adrenaline was leaving her body. She felt cold, sapped and a little sick to her stomach.
She hadn’t overreacted, she told herself.
The body of a woman had been discovered in Dark Canyon Wilderness a few months before.
Sassy’s friend Fern Hensley had been restrained and almost burned alive in a house not far from town and was still recovering at Baldwin Memorial Hospital.
Sassy’s cousin Ava had survived an attempted kidnapping only a few weeks before.
Something was happening to women in and around Hall County.
The attacks didn’t seem to be random. Sassy sensed from close conversations with her cousins—Ryan, the firefighter, Noah, a search and rescue dog handler and investigative journalist, Jacob, who was a National Parks SBI special agent, and Ava, Fern’s psychologist, plus Ava’s partner, Chayton Benally, an officer with Navajo Tribal Affairs—that these incidents could be related.
Trouble had come to Dark Canyon. Chances were it hadn’t left.
But for now, the gallery was secure and Rogue needed to be fed.
Before Sassy left, she opened the desk drawer and dropped the bar rod into the clutter inside. She switched off the light, descended the stairs and shut off more lights as she made her way to the rear door.
As she locked up for the second time that night, she again eyed the camera above.
A commotion from the dumpster followed the sinister sound of an animal scream.
She made a note to call her father, Dr. Richie Colton, the local veterinarian, in the morning to send someone early to check if the animals were still there.
If they were, they needed to be screened for rabies.
The last thing Dark Canyon needed was an outbreak.
As she clutched the flashlight, her head swiveled right, left and back.
It didn’t matter how scary she looked. She could use some company right about now, a distraction from all the scenarios running through her head. She wished Ryan had answered the phone. She wished Nick had made it back from his hiking trip.
Nothing sliced the dark in half like her best friend’s boyish grin or the way he knew just by looking at her that she didn’t want to be alone.
As soon as she was back in her vehicle, she checked her phone, half expecting to see Nick’s name in her notifications.
There was nothing.
Her brow furrowed. She wished he was back in cell phone range. She wished he’d been with her when she’d flipped back the lid of that dumpster and confronted those raccoons. She’d have been able to laugh over the situation then. Laughing was always easier with Nick, no matter the circumstances.
She checked the date—March 12.
She counted the days since his departure.
He normally spent four nights in Dark Canyon Wilderness, following the trail he and his father had once hiked together. She wouldn’t lie and say it unnerved her that he always made the trip solo.
So far, he’d been gone three nights.
“Malone, if you’re not back in twenty-four hours,” she muttered as she cranked the Bronco, “I’m going in after you.”
The engine sputtered. She tried again, cooing encouragements until the pistons fired.
She mashed on the gas to hear the comforting roar of the engine.
“Thatta girl,” she murmured before putting the Bronco in Reverse and watching her rear window as she backed out the way she came, leaving the night critters to their dumpster fight.
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