But the rest, he could trust Nick with. “It would appear that our poachers are importing exotic animals into the states and turning them out to hunt here in Elk Ridge. Why don’t you head out with me, and I’ll catch you up to speed on what I know.”
Duncan got up, collected his jacket, and walked out of the office, Nick on his heels. They climbed into Duncan’s truck and headed for Turner Creek.
They rode in silence for a long time. Frustration edged up Duncan’s neck and gripped his jaw. The longer it took him to run down leads, the longer Aliyah was left alone in his house. He was in a hell of a fix. He couldn’t have her with him while he worked to try and track down the men who’d hunted her, but he felt uneasy about leaving her alone for such a long period of time, which left her without his protection.
“You okay?” Nick asked.
Duncan glanced over at his friend. “Yeah, I’m good. Just tired. Wagged my ass all over the damn mountain yesterday looking for those damn poachers.”
Nick’s expression darkened. “I want them out of our mountains, Duncan.”
Duncan nodded. “You and me both. Last thing we need is a bunch of outsiders shooting up the damn woods and losing animals like lions. The locals get wind of this and they’ll posse up and go after the poachers themselves.”
As they neared the Turner Creek crossing, they saw two trucks parked a quarter mile up the road. Duncan pulled in behind them and hopped out.
He and Nick walked over to where Heath Barnes and his son, Michael, stood with Sam Crenshaw. They looked up.
“Sheriff,” Heath said with a nod.
Duncan looked down at the dead lion. Large adult male. Gunshot wound behind the left shoulder. Rigor had set in and the body temperature was cool, no warmth when Duncan touched the stiff body. Probably shot late yesterday or possibly early this morning.
He looked up at the three men who gathered round the fallen lion. “You fellows see anyone around?”
They shook their heads.
“What’s going on, sheriff?” Sam asked. “What’s a lion doing around here?”
Duncan rose and rubbed a hand through his hair. “I wish I knew. Looks like we have a poaching ring.”
The men’s faces twisted in anger.
“It’s bad enough we have to put up with so many damn out of state hunters every fall,” Heath muttered. “Now they’re running illegal animals?”
Duncan sighed and pulled out his cell phone to check his signal. One bar. A call might go through. He dialed Doc’s number, hoping this time he’d actually get a hold of the man.
After the fourth ring, Doc’s gravelly voice bled through the line.
“What can I do for you, Duncan?” Doc asked. “Sorry I didn’t get back to you last night. It was damn near two a. m. before I got in. Had a difficult delivery out at the Bransons.”
“No problem. Look Doc, if you aren’t busy, I could use you.”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“I need you to do an autopsy…on a lion.”
“A mountain lion? Whatever for?”
“No, Doc, a lion. African lion. I’ve got a dead one at Turner Creek. I need you to preserve what evidence you find, recover any bullet fragments and give me a detailed report of your findings.”
“You bringing it in or do you want me to come get it?”
“I’ll have my deputies bring it to you,” Duncan said.
“I’ll be waiting. Oh, and Duncan, what was it you needed last night? You sounded distracted.”
Duncan paused. «Nothing. It wasn’t important.”
Doc grunted. “Whatever. I’ll be at the clinic.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
Duncan hung up and glanced over at Nick. “Can you handle things here?”
Nick nodded. “Where are you off to?”
“I need to go back to the office and run over some maps. If I can get a chopper out tomorrow morning we can do an aerial recon of the area. See if we get lucky.”
“Good idea. If nothing else, we can rule out a lot of ground to cover on foot. I’ll radio dispatch and have them send an off-duty deputy. I’ll catch a ride back to town with him when we take the lion out to Doc’s.”
“Thanks, Nick. I appreciate it.”
Nick eyed him curiously. “It’s my job.”
“Yeah, I know, but thanks anyway.”
“Duncan, are you sure everything’s okay? You’re taking this awfully hard.”
Concern and curiosity flickered in Nick’s eyes, and Duncan felt a surge of guilt. He wasn’t one to keep secrets. Aliyah, though? One secret well worth keeping. Especially if it kept her in his arms a little longer.
“I’m good, man. Keep me posted.”
Duncan started back to his truck. He tried to view the lion’s death as he would any other animal’s demise, but he kept imagining a golden-eyed cheetah lifeless on the ground.
It could have been Aliyah. It would have been Aliyah if he hadn’t found her when he had.
The idea of her running for her life, helpless against the hunters pursuing her, sent a cold chill down his spine. As long as he lived, he’d never forget the sight of a cold, shivering Aliyah lying naked on the floor of his mudroom, an arrow protruding from her thigh.
He wanted to get back to her. Make sure she was safe. Not hurting. But first he had to do what he could to ensure the hunters were no longer a threat to her.
He was eager as hell to see Aliyah again, and he knew it had little to do with police procedure, his investigation, or anything else. He wanted to touch her. Run his hands over her body.
His groin grew heavy, and an ache began as his cock stiffened.
He climbed into his truck and stared down in disgust at the bulge in his crotch. Then he shifted in an effort to alleviate the discomfort. All the way home, he thought about the coming snow. Ice. Frost. Cold showers. Anything that would make it less likely that he’d walk into his cabin with a hard-on from hell.
On the other hand, he could think of better ways to ease the ache than thinking of icebergs and penguins. Like diving into a warm pussy.
CHAPTER 8
It was late when Duncan turned into his drive. He pulled up to his house and sat there for a moment, his hands gripped tight around the steering wheel. Fatigue worked deep into his muscles, but at the same time, anticipation licked up his skin. He realized, as he walked toward the front door, that he wanted her to be here. He didn’t want to walk into an empty house just like he did every other day.
He inserted the key into the lock, turned then paused as he slid his hand down to grab the handle. Quietly, he eased the door open and stepped inside.
Relief lightened his chest.
Curled up on the couch in front of the fire was Aliyah. Lying on her side, her knees drawn up and one arm dangling over the side of the sofa, she was sound asleep.
It looked frighteningly domestic. Like a man returning home after a long day at work to find his woman waiting. Soft. Beautiful.
He walked forward, drawn to the alluring image she presented. As he moved closer, he frowned. Her skin rippled with tiny quivers. Her muscles twitched and jumped, and her brow was creased, her lips drawn into a tight line.
He knelt in front of the couch and laid his hand on her shoulder. She was wearing one of his flannel shirts. He slid his hand down her arm then over her hip and to the bare skin of her leg. His fingers tracked back up to the hem of the shirt, and he pushed until it revealed her wound.
It still looked painful, though he couldn’t imagine anyone else healing this rapidly. And she seemed to think it was taking much too long.
He pressed his lips an inch below the jagged seam of the closed wound and kissed. Beneath his mouth, she stirred. He glanced over to see her looking at him. A smile curved her full lips.