Chapter Nine

Griffin pulled into a dirt inlet about fifteen miles down from the restaurant. “Give me a minute,” he said after he put the truck into park. He got out and went to the keypad hidden behind a tree. After he put in the number the gate swung backward and he hurried back to the truck and drove through it. They were barely on the other side when the gate closed.

“What happens when Brett’s superiors find out he’s done this?” she asked.

“We have to hope they don’t.” Griffin drove down the narrow, dirt path. “This is the area he polices so hopefully he can figure out some excuse as to why he came in after ten, if they ask.”

He parked near a small wooden building. “Last chance to back out,” he said. “You can stay here in the truck while I do a little breaking and entering.”

“Not on your life,” she said.

“Good thing you wore your boots,” he said.

He loved the giggle that escaped her mouth. “I’m not a high heels kinda girl.”

“I like that about you.” He looked around and didn’t see anyone lurking. “There’s an all terrain vehicle in this shed. We’re going to use it to get to the fence line. After we climb over the fence, Portland’s cabin is about a mile away, so it’s time for a late night hike. If anyone catches us we tell them we got lost while we were out howling at the moon.”

“Howling at the moon?” she asked.

“It was code between me and my brothers.” He shrugged. “When we got lucky while out with a lady we used to tell each other it had been a good time to howl at the moon.”

She laughed. “How juvenile.”

“Hey, we were teenage boys.” He got out of the truck, and when she was out they headed toward the shed.

“He gave you the key?”

“He told me where it was hidden.” He held up a hand. “Wait here and I’ll bring it out.” It didn’t take him long, and then she was behind him, with her arms around his waist and his bottom pressed against her thigh opening.

“I hope you’re not going to drive as fast on this road as you did on the highway,” she said in his ear.

“Trust me,” he said. “And hang on.”

She tightened her grip on him and he took off, making sure to drive slow and try to avoid the ruts. It took about twenty minutes to reach the fence. There was a gate there and he parked the vehicle and she got off.

“The gate’s locked,” she said as she jiggled it.

“We’ll have to climb over it,” he said. “Do you want a boost?”

“I may not have howled at the moon, but I have climbed a few fences in my lifetime.”

“Hold on,” he said. He popped open the bag attached to the handlebars and pulled out two flashlights. He handed her one and said, “I’ll light your way and you can light mine.”

“Sounds good.” He watched as she scrambled over the fence like she was a monkey, and she was on the other side in an instant. “Your turn,” she said as she shone the light at his feet. He climbed as quick as he could, and when they were on Portland’s land he took her hand and they headed north.

“Are we going in the right direction?” she asked after a few moments.

“Definitely,” he said.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“What’s the old saying, you just did?” He took her hand and pulled it close. The moon was bright tonight, but the weather was cool. He imagined tying her to a tree, spanking her ass until it was bright red, and then fucking her until she passed out.

“Did you hear me?”

“You mean while I was thinking about fucking you? No.”

“Keep your mind on the mission,” she said. “I wanted to know if you were going to buy this land so you could expand Tres Lobos West?”

“Why do you ask?”

The path they were on ended and became grassland. “Let me lead the way,” he said. He stepped in front of her and turned to see her falling in behind him.

“I asked because they are going to ask,” she said. “If the state police are in on the investigation now that will be the first thing they ask. You argued over land, they will say you killed him over land, and now you want his land to add to yours.”

He stopped and she ran into his back. Then he turned to her. “I never thought of that,” he said.

“I can assure you they have,” she said. “Stan has done a few criminal cases in the last few months, and I’ve sat in on the depositions.”

“Plus, that’s what a novel detective would think,” he said with a laugh.

“True.” She put her hand on his chest. “You know, if we go to Portland’s cabin we might be leaving evidence for them to find later if they come back to search. What can we really find there?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “I just know I want to go and see what we can discover. I don’t like being on the outside.”

He knew she was right, and he was setting them up for a potential disaster by sneaking onto Portland’s acreage, but he wanted to see where Portland had been attacked.

“Let’s keep going,” he said. He once again took the lead and they started to walk.

“So, you’ve had sex in these woods, in the cold?”

“I have,” he said. “Aren’t you a fan of outdoor sex?”

“Not when it’s almost freezing out.”

“You’d be surprised how the cold stimulates the body.” The ground crunched under his shoes, and he once again thought of her warning about them finding evidence at the scene.

“Having second thoughts?” she asked.

“And thirds.” He stopped at the edge of the clearing that held Portland’s house. It was dark, but he knew that once they were closer a motion sensitive security light would come on. This far away from the road no one would notice—unless they’d stationed an officer here to see if the culprit came back.

“Stay here a minute,” he said. For once she didn’t argue. He took a few steps forward and picked up a rock. He took several more steps and hefted the rock in his hand. When he was close to where he thought he’d put up security lights if this was his property.

Griffin drew back his arm and tossed the rock toward the cabin. Two security lights came on, and to his shock a light came on inside the cabin.

“Shit.”

Behind him he heard Jett say, “Oh caca.”

He dropped down and waved his hand behind him. He hoped she understood and did the same.

“Police, who’s out there?” a voice called out.

Griffin lay flat against the ground. If the officer walked in his direction he was screwed. But if he stayed silent, and if Jett was smart enough to do the same, then hopefully they would not be discovered.

“Come out!” the cop yelled.

Griffin stayed where he was, working hard to control his breathing so as not to make any noise whatsoever. Behind him all was silent, so he was sure Jett was trying to do the same thing.

The standoff continued for what seemed like forever, and then car lights approached the cabin. Before he’d come out, the officer had obviously called for backup.

Griffin turned as silently as he could and started to crawl back toward the fence. After a few feet he could see Jett, lying low on the ground. There was fear on her face. He made a circular motion with his finger, and he hoped she understood. She nodded, turned, and started to crawl.

They were at the fence when someone yelled, “Stop!”

She scuttled over the fence and he did the same. When they were on the other side she put her hand on his chest. “Run, hide behind a tree. Let me handle this.”

“No,” he growled.

“If they see you, your ass is in trouble. They don’t know who I am, but they know who you are. I can talk my way out of it. Trust me. Go now!”

He wanted to argue with her, but he was sure she was right. If he stayed where he was, he would end up behind bars, he was sure of that. He wasn’t used to letting a woman fight his battles, but as he was sure her grandmother would say, you had to choose your battles.

He took up position behind a large tree, barely making it there before he heard one of the cops say, “Stay where you are!”

“I am,” Jett answered. “I’m putting my hands up. I’m unarmed.”

“Who are you?” a male voice asked.

“Stacy Cameron,” she answered.

“What are you doing out this late? Who are you with?”

“Can I put my hands down?” Jett asked.

“Slowly.” This voice was different than the other. “What are you doing out here?”

“Howling at the moon,” she answered.

“Excuse me?” the cop asked.

“My lover and I, we were having sex, or about to before you interrupted.”

The beams from flashlights moved around the area. Griffin had the idea the cops were on the Portland side of the fence, using their lights to search the area.

“Where’s your lover?” the cop asked.

“Well, he’s married,” she answered. “Don’t judge me, but he didn’t want you to see him. He’s well known in these parts.”

“What’s his name?” the cop asked.

Griffin made to stand up. He should go talk to them, even if it meant he would end up behind bars. A suspect in an attempted murder coming back to the scene of his supposed crime was not a good thing.

“His name is Brett,” she said.

“Stef’s husband?” one of the cops asked.

“Who? I don’t know who that is, but Brett Clyde works in Red River. We came out here so no one would find us. We wanted to howl at the moon, you know, have sex outdoors?” She managed, somehow, to put shame in her voice. “Listen, we don’t want news of this to get out. Please, don’t say anything.”

“Where is he now?” the cop asked.

“He’s not exactly a brave man, obviously,” she said. “He ran while I was putting my clothes back on.”

“You need to find a new lover,” one of the cops said.

“Obviously,” she said. “I’m sorry.

“You’re on federal land, you know,” one of the cops said. “Not to mention that the landowner to the north was attacked the other night.”

“What?” He imagined her putting her hands on her chest as if she were in shock. “I don’t live here. I’m from Las Vegas.”

Griffin could see where this was going, and it wasn’t good. He pulled out his phone and prayed the cops wouldn’t see the light. He typed out a quick note about what was happening and added, 911.

The answer was immediate, “BRT.”

He put his phone up in time to hear Jett say, “Well, I’ll be going.”

“Stay right there,” one of the cops said. “With what has happened we can’t allow you to wander around by yourself, especially since your lover probably took your vehicle and left. Climb over the fence and we’ll take you to your room. Where are you staying?”

“Climb over the fence?” she laughed softly. “Do I look like the type of woman who climbs fences?”

“Not to put too fine a point on it, ma’am, but you’re the type to, as you say, howl at the moon.”

“Come on, Brett, come on,” Griffin whispered. It was taking forever for his friend to show up, and he couldn’t risk the cops coming over the fence and taking Jett into custody. There was no way he was going to allow her to continue to take the heat for him.

As carefully and quietly as he could, he crawled back toward the fence, skirting to the left of where Jett stood next to the fence, with the cops on the other side. They were still arguing about Jett climbing over the fence so they could escort her back to Red River.

When he got to the fence, about a hundred feet away from where they stood, he was surprised to find a hole cut in the fence. He wondered what the hell that was doing there, and if Brett knew about it. He made a mental note to tell his friend as he slipped through the opening. Someone had obviously used wire cutters to grant themselves access to federal land from Portland’s place, or vice versa.

Once he was on the other side he put his hands to his mouth and yelled, “Fucking pigs!” Then he took off running, using the light of the moon to head toward the road.

“Stop, stop!” Griffin heard footsteps behind him, he stopped and dropped to the ground. He picked up several rocks and rapid fired them in the direction he was supposedly going. The sound of the rocks hitting whatever they struck filled the air. When the cops ran past him he stayed as quiet as possible. He gave them a few minutes and then he hurried back to the hole in the fence. He crawled through just as headlights flashed in his direction.

Help had arrived. He wanted to call out for Jett, but he didn’t want to risk the cops coming back.

“Get over here!” The sound of Brett’s voice carried. Griffin hurried in the direction where Jett had stood, but she was already running toward them. “Get in my truck and get the hell out of here,” Brett said. “Leave it at the shed, and get back to Bear Creek as fast as you can. There’s already chatter on the radio about them finding someone on Portland’s land. Hurry up!”

“The keys are still in the ATV,” Griffin said as he hurried Jett into the cab of Brett’s truck. He shut the door, and then stopped when Brett called his name.

“One more thing,” Brett said. “Portland died. This is now a homicide.”