Richfield & Rivers Mystery Series 3 - Venus Besieged (16 page)

But
my thoughts gave way to images of Callie running toward me, arms outstretched.
I staggered to my feet and caught her, our bodies slamming into one another,
unable to hold back our sheer physical joy.

Not
saying anything above the tears, but clutching her to me, I realized I didn't
care about anything else but Callie Rivers. I'd felt this way once before when she'd
been kidnapped during a case we were working on, and I wondered why in between
that time and this, I couldn't remember this intense state of adoration when I
was arguing with her, or when I was angry with her, or when I felt momentarily
trapped.

I held
her face and looked into her eyes, experiencing it all now, then pressed her
forehead to mine as if to program the intensity of this moment and my love for
her through my thick skull and onto the storage disc of my brain.

"My
heart left my chest and went over that ridge with you. I thought I'd lost
you."

"You
mean you couldn't psychically know I would be safe." I tried to tease her.

"I
did know, but I didn't believe my knowing because it's too close to my
heart."

As
we stood locked in each other's arms, she turned, seeming to feel a presence in
the air, and I felt it too, a painful energy like the warning tingle you get
before touching a hot wire.

"Let's
get out of here," Callie said. When she took my arm, I was wobbly and weak
and gently complained of her tight grip, predicting I was blue under my shirt
from hanging on the rope.

"Wait
a second, I want to get a closer look at what I was suspended by—some sort of
netting."

Callie
protested my wanting to get near the spot where I'd been hauled up and prevented
my taking a step in that direction, but I couldn't see any net or sign of my
rescue.

"If
I wasn't dizzy and all my body parts throbbing, I'd say none of this ever
happened. Where did the net and the Indian guy go?"

Not
answering, her arm around me, Callie helped me walk back up the treacherous
canyon trail to the car, the path so narrow and rough and steep it was slow
going. "Did you hear me?" she asked. "The entire time you were
down there, I called to you with my mind."

"I
heard you tell me you would find me."

"I
did and I always will."

"How
did you know I was down below the ridge?"

"Manaba
told me," she said, and I was too out of breath to quiz her further.

About
the time I knew I wasn't up to walking much farther, the parking lot appeared
ahead and slightly above us. Leaning against the white Jeep and touching the
metal door handle was almost a religious experience. Salvation brought to me by
Chrysler. Sitting in the leather seats of my Jeep felt good, solid, warm.
Callie drove, taking my hand, and we rode in silence.

"The
man who rescued you has to be involved in Nizhoni's disappearance, yet there's
no way he could have arranged for you to take a plunge over that edge,"
she finally said, unable not to discuss in detail the bizarre event that had
led to my near death.

Callie
momentarily stopped the car, leaned over, and gave me a kiss that was all
longing for the present, the future, and always. It seemed that having nearly
lost me, she had intensified her desire for me, which I already thought was
record breaking. Unable to express how I felt about her without crying, I stuck
to the tactical.

"Was
a helicopter looking for me?"

"The
moment you went over and I couldn't see you or hear you, I phoned the police,
the sheriff's department, the park service, and Manaba. I was frantic. I don't
think there was time for a helicopter. You were down there for what seemed like
a lifetime, but it was really about ninety minutes."

Beginning
to shake, my teeth nearly chattering, a habit I had of getting more petrified
after a near-death experience than during, I whispered, "Jesus, that was..
.terrifying."

"How
did you happen to fall right where the net was placed? How was a net there...
of all the places around the canyon?"

"I
wouldn't have gone over if it hadn't been for the wolf." As I said it,
goose bumps raced up my legs. "As I was catching my balance the wolf
appeared and lunged at me."

"I
never saw a wolf." Callie clutched my hand and spoke into the air.
"So he sent you over the edge."

"He
who?"

"The
man whose name I won't speak, the energy I won't evoke. Someone must have sent
the Indian man, and he saved you. Was Nizhoni saved by him too?"

I
was getting over my fear and getting into being pissed. "I don't know
what's going on, but it's getting to be less about Manaba and more about us.
Some kind of energy attacked you, and a phantom wolf threw me over a cliff. If
Manaba told you where I was, she's in on it along with the Indian man who saved
me. Maybe they killed Nizhoni and simply chose to rescue me."

"If
they were killers, why rescue you?"

"Maybe
because she knows you love me, and she did it as a favor."

"They
didn't murder Nizhoni because she's not dead."

"Then
your shaman's lying to you."

Callie
nodded, for the first time admitting that Manaba was lying.

She
dialed the police department and sheriff's department to tell them I was
safe—reporting the time I was rescued, my inability to name the rescuer, but
describing the location.

I
could hear the squawk of male voices over bad radio
equipment as they exchanged information, and I thought about how small we are
in the world when we search for one another—police merely troops of ants all
dressed alike, driving the same cars, fanning out across the unknown to locate
one lost ant.

Suddenly
I was thinking about life as one giant search party— searching for a house, a
job, a mate, the meaning of life, not to mention the search for socks, glasses,
and car keys—and before I could search for anything else, I lost
consciousness—my mind searching for a nap.

There's
something wonderful about bed after a big scare. Soft and warm and comforting,
it seemed to embrace me, let me find solace in Callie and fall asleep, leaving
the frightening event behind so we could wake up and begin again the next day.

"I've
been shown one thing, how very much I want to spend every minute with
you," I said, putting my arm across Callie's middle as we sat propped up
against the pillows, resting my hand on the inside of her thigh and letting out
a deep sigh.

Under
the arm that had snagged the net, bad bruises on my ribs led down to discolored
areas below them. My arm muscles were excruciatingly sore and my leg muscles
only slightly less so.

Callie
took body lotion and slowly, carefully massaged my arms and legs, and when I
asked if she thought body lotion healed bruising, she said it wasn't about
lotion. It was about massage and realigning the energy in my body.

Lying
on my back, I closed my eyes as she rubbed the cream up my thighs, over my
belly, up my chest, and over my breasts before her hands gripped my shoulders,
pausing a moment and then retracing her steps, her hands never losing contact
with my skin. Soon the long, relaxing strokes were narrowing their path until
she was rubbing a single track between my legs and laid her entire weight on my
body, her lips pressed to mine. "Your body took quite a battering,"
she whispered and laid her head on my chest.

"Happens
in life."

"You
need to treat yourself better."

"Maybe
you could do that on my behalf."

"I
will," Callie said, and rolled me over so she could massage my buttocks
and slide up and down my back with her naked body, her large breasts brushing
my spine, her body getting closer to me with each stroke until her entire
voluptuous form was gliding up and down me gently, each pass of her soft skin
making me quiver with anticipation. Finally, she lowered herself onto me,
refusing to allow me to turn over, and glided one hand under me, stroking me,
while fingers of the other slid into me and her body rocked up against me,
creating the sensation that she had more hands than was humanly possible and
making me break out in a sweat that could have been the change, but who cared.

My
body wet, every other part of me hard as she hydroplaned down me, into me with
measured rhythm, taking me to the edge of the orgasmic cliff where I hung on,
not wanting to fall over, not wanting it to end, holding on as long as I could
and then sailing, soaring, explosive, climax.
Breathing...panting...breathing...panting.

"Where
did you learn that?" I moaned.

She
nibbled my ear in response.

"You
are so good," I whispered.

As I
poured a cup of coffee at the kitchen counter, Callie slung her arms around me,
ambushing me from behind. Undeterred by my squeals and the splattering
caffeine, she plopped her chin on my shoulder and announced how pleased she was
to be driving me sexually insane, admitting it made her love me even more.

"I
think of your body as a Mount Everest and myself as a skilled climber who has
no trouble making it to the top."

I
whirled and grabbed her. "You are so cocky."

Elmo
let out a deep bark, startling us both as Ramona Mathers peeked through the
plate-glass window, her hand shielding her eyes as if she was trying to focus
and see if we were home. I shouted for her to come in. Three clomps on the
steps and she was through the doorway.

"What
in the world happened yesterday?" she asked without any introductory
protocol. Something about your falling off the canyon ridge. Did you?"

"Yes,
and was rescued by a Navajo trapper, I'm guessing."

"Why
the hell were you standing so near the edge? Do we have to put a harness on you
like a three-year-old?"

"My
thoughts exactly, and I would have welcomed one as I dangled like a yoyo
whipping around in the wind thinking my demise was eminent," I said, my
supercilious tone an attempt to cover how seriously frightened I was. "Now
I realize someone wanted me to die—like Nizhoni supposedly did."

"Are
you saying someone wanted you to fall into the canyon, at the spot where
Nizhoni fell, and live to discuss it?"

I
made a mental note that Ramona said at the spot where Nizhoni fell. How would
she know that?

Callie
nodded affirmatively as I added, "I was actually thrown over the cliff by
a wolf who wasn't really there."

Ramona
paused. "You're obviously not sharing that with anyone?" Although her
tone was flippant, I felt she was telling me not to, and why wouldn't she want
anyone to know? Because she didn't want people to think I was crazy? Because
she didn't want wolves maligned? Because she knew something about Nizhoni's death
she wasn't telling?

"Who
told you I went over the cliff?"

"The
Native American community is abuzz about the rescue by one of their own."

"And
you have a hotline to that community?"

"I've
had this cabin for thirty-five years and hire Indians to help me occasionally."

"Did
you know Nizhoni?"

"One
of my clients knew her.. .I didn't. Speaking of the dead," Ramona intoned,
"I've gotten word to a connected friend and had to call in a chit, so I
hope this is all worth it in the end. But when the offices open next Monday, if
you're still inclined, I can file the necessary documents to get the body
exhumed. Jot down the woman's name, date of birth, date of death—"

"Time
of death is approximate," Callie said, walking to the kitchen counter and
locating a piece of paper with the information on it and handing it to Ramona.

"Nicely
done, Sherlock." Ramona's tone was intimate as she held Callie in her
gaze.

"Did
Barrett go back to L.A.?" I asked to break up any sexual energy Ramona was
about to toss Callie's way, marveling that her sexual battery never seemed to
go dry. The woman could be turned on faster than a light switch.

"No,
actually, she stayed over," she said, her eyes still locked on Callie's,
but the words had a playful sound to them as if she was at that moment thinking
of Barrett in bed with her. "I like your friend a lot."

"Which
one? Because the one you're staring at is taken." I mimicked her playful
tone rather than say her gaze was annoying the hell out of me.

"Sweet."
Her eyes broke away from Callie to connect with mine and let me know she was
merely joking. "I'm meeting Barrett for breakfast, so I have to run. Only
came by to see if you were still breathing." Ramona left, looking a little
more graceful than I remembered her.

"They're
just fucking each other," I said. "And she'd better stay away from
you."

"I'm
just fucking you too," she said, reaching into my pants suddenly.
"But that doesn't mean I'm not mad about you. In fact the two are
definitely related."

"I've
started buying all my pants loose at the waist." I sighed and allowed her
to do with me what she would, which at this moment seemed to be merely fooling
around with me enough to make me sexually crazy and keeping me in a state of
constant desire.