Sugar and Spite (18 page)

“Let her,” Dirk said. “She’s good at wringin’ information outta people and them not even knowin’ they’re bein’ squeezed.”

“All right, I guess.” Jake pouted a little, like a kid who wasn’t getting to play the captain of the football team. “But hurry back.”

Savannah gave him a half-lipped sneer and walked off toward the caravan. Several young fellows in their twenties were chewing on ears of corn and rows of spare ribs, dripping with a fragrant sauce. They had been laughing and talking, but when they saw Savannah approach, they stopped and exchanged lascivious, knowing looks.

“Good evening, m’lords,” she said, trying to turn a Georgian drawl into a crisp, old English accent. What came out was a strange mixture of both. The gypsies chuckled.

“Good evening to you, fair maiden,” said one as he flashed her a grin that probably would have been sexy, if bits of corn hadn’t been stuck to his chin. “Shall I read your palm and tell you what wonders await you… this very evening.”

“Let me guess,” she said, sizing him up. “You’ll predict a meeting with a tall, dark, handsome stranger… or maybe two strangers.”

Gypsy Number Two laughed and nearly dropped his rack of ribs. “I see you have the gift of second sight yourself, m’lady.”

“Not at all,” she said. “But I’ve had more than one lecherous lad cross my path at this faire, and I have a feeling that if you were to tell me my fortune, the cards would be stacked in your favor.”

“A fine lady like yourself could do worse than a couple of free-spirited gypsies,” Corn Face said, flashing white teeth.

“Speaking of worse,” she said, “I’m looking for someone much worse than either of you, I’d bet. He’s a fellow by the name of Snake. Do you know where I might find him?”

The rib-eater turned to his friend. “Snake has his problems with the ladies. One damsel cannot rid herself of him, and another cannot find him.”

“If I were Snake,” the second one said thoughtfully, “I’d choose this second one. She’s more comely and far friendlier. Should we point her in his direction?”

“If we do, our friend Snake will be forever in our debt.”

“Indeed.” He waved his corncob in the general direction of a path that led away into the trees. “The last time we saw him, Snake was hastening yonder, trying to catch up to a belly dancer who had slapped his face and told him to mind where he placed his lips.”

“I think,” said the other one, “that he was determined to give her a second chance to appreciate his… talents.”

“Whether she wanted that chance or not?” Savannah asked.

“I think her reluctance was half her charm,” he replied.

Savannah raised an eyebrow. “I see. And would you pursue a woman who had slapped your face and told you to take your lips off her?”

He laughed and glanced approvingly up and down her figure. “I have never suffered such a fate, lady. My lasses beg for more.”

“Oh, I doubt they have to beg,” she replied. “Thank you for your help, gentlemen. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“If you don’t find that knave, Snake, come back and enjoy the moonlight with us,” one of them called after her.

She waved good-bye and hurried back to Dirk and Jake. “He’s gone down that path into the trees, after some gal who refused to pucker up.”

“A real charmer with the ladies,” Dirk said, a depth of anger in his eyes that Savannah had seldom seen before. “Let’s get him.”

“Yeah…
let’s
,” Savannah said, heading for the path. “Don’t forget it’s a team effort, buddy.”

He replied by muttering unintelligible obscenities under his breath as he followed her.

“We don’t want to kill the only other witness to your wife’s murder,” Jake added, rushing to catch up with them.

“You two can just shut up now,” Dirk snapped. “I’m not stupid, you know. I’m not going to shoot the only guy standing between me and a murder rap.”

Jake stopped abruptly and grabbed Dirk’s arm. “What do you mean, ‘shoot the guy’? Are you carrying a weapon?”

Savannah gave Dirk a warning look, which Jake intercepted.

“No, of course not,” Dirk grumbled. “Why would I want to be carrying a gun to defend myself when we’re trying to nab a cold-blooded killer? Who’d want personal protection at a time like that? Certainly not me. I just figured I’d spit in his eye.”

Jake stared at him for a long moment, weighing whether to push any further, then said, “Let’s just find him. We’ll play it by ear from there.”

As they approached the stand of oaks, the path split, the left leading deeper into the trees, the right around the edge of the miniforest and down to the riverbank.

“Since there’s two of us,” Jake said to Savannah, “we’ll go into the trees. You take the one leading to the river.”

“No way,” Dirk said. “This guy’s already killed one woman. We’re staying together. Or you go off by yourself, McMurtry.”

“Nope.” Jake shook his head. “I’m not taking my eyes of you, especially if you’ve come armed… with a mouthful of spit,” he added sarcastically.

“Thanks for your concern.” Savannah slapped Dirk on the shoulder. “But we’ll cover twice as much ground this way. I’ll give a yell if I need you.”

Dirk muttered a few more objections, but Savannah left them and headed toward the river, which sparkled in the moonlight as though it had been liberally sprinkled with fairies’ dust. The smell of wild sage filled the moist night air, along with the smoke and cooking aromas from the campfires.

Such a romantic place
, she thought,
to be looking for a killer
.

She hadn’t expected the burbling of the water to be so loud. She wondered if she would be able to hear anyone, even if they were near. Her eyes searched the shadowed brush that lined the bank, and her skin tickled along the back of her neck. It was a sensation she often experienced when danger was close. Long ago, she had learned not to dismiss it.

Normally, she didn’t pull her weapon unless she intended to use it. But as her intuitive anxiety mounted, she reached inside the leather pouch Ryan had given her for a purse and pulled out the Beretta. She even switched the safety off.

When she saw the path crook away from the river and into the back edge of the woods, she felt even more apprehensive. Without a flashlight, it was going to be pretty dark under the trees. She reminded herself that if she wasn’t careful, she could even get spooked and wind up shooting Dirk or Jake… or vice versa.

Dry leaves crackled beneath her feet as she walked slowly among the trees, each step taking her deeper into the darkness. If she had wanted to sneak up on someone, they would certainly hear her steps. But then, she reminded herself, she would hear theirs, too. From here the sound of the river flowing was muted. She couldn’t see worth a tinker’s damn, but she could at least hear again.

The shivers along the back of her neck intensified so much and so suddenly that she stopped still and waited, holding her breath and feeling her pulse throb in her head.

In some bushes off to her left, she heard a rustling, but the sound was small, like that of a bird or maybe a rabbit. The sound to the right was much bigger.

Her finger moved to the gun’s trigger as she lowered the barrel. “Freeze,” she said to the mass of shapeless shadow. “I can see you, and if you make another move, I’m going to blow your brains out.”

Of course, she couldn’t see them. She couldn’t see a blamed thing, but they didn’t have to know that.

“All right,” she said, taking one step forward, closer to a tree, in case she needed to duck for cover, “walk toward me… slowly… your hands in the air.”

She wasn’t that surprised when no one came forward. In all the years she had tried it, the ploy hadn’t worked a single time. But for some reason which only she could explain, she thought it was a pretty good one, at least theoretically. She was determined to keep trying until somebody fell for it.

“I told you to get over here,” she said. “Unless you wanna get yourself shot, you’d better get to gettin’!”

Silence.

Okay, plan two?
she thought. No plan two came leaping to mind. Or three. Or four.
You’ve gotta stop trying that foolishness
, she told herself.
It never works and you never know what to do when it doesn’t.

“All right, you asked for it. Now you’re gonna get—” She heard a whooshing sound, then felt the tree trunk reach over and smack her hard on the upper left arm. Of course, trees didn’t attack people, but that was what it felt like.

And she couldn’t move her arm. It was stuck to the tree. Pinned.

She jerked it away from the trunk and heard and felt her shirtsleeve ripping. Reaching for the tree with her left hand, she felt something protruding from the bark. A small rod… a shaft. An arrow shaft.

Someone had just shot at her with a bow and arrow!

Then there was a second swoosh… but, thankfully, this time she felt nothing.

“What the hell? What do you think you’re doing?” she yelled as she ducked behind the tree. “You’re playing cowboys and Indians out here in the woods? I got the gun, you moron! You’re gonna lose!”

But not if he saw her first. He had been able to at least get a shot off and nail her, which was more than she could have done to him.

“Now get out here before I have to shoot you dead! Right now, sucker!”

She heard a rustle, then more movement. She couldn’t believe it! Somebody was actually walking toward her. Small, shuffling steps, but they were doing it!

It worked! Glory be! It worked!
her mind shouted.
Finally!

And he was walking into a patch of light. Well, not exactly light, but less darkness. It was a man, dressed in medieval garb, and he seemed to fit Dirk’s general description: medium height, medium weight. Just pretty darned medium all the way around.

She looked at his hands to see if he was carrying a weapon, but they seemed empty.

“Put ‘em up!” she yelled, stepping halfway from behind the tree. “Stick your hands up in the air right now!”

She thought she heard another sound, someone deeper in the trees behind him. “Dirk?” she called. “Jake? Over here.”

No one replied. The guy took another two halting steps toward her. His hands weren’t exactly raised; one hung limply at his side, the other out in front of him, as though he were feeling his way through the darkness.

She walked toward him until they were about twelve feet apart. “Get down on the ground,” she said, training the pistol on him. “Shoot me with an arrow, huh? Get down, now!”

His face was in shadow, and she couldn’t see his expression. But he dropped to his knees. Hard.

“On down,” she said. “And spread your arms out to either side.”

He did exactly as she said. Except for the arms part. Suddenly, he plunged forward and did a dramatic face dive, right onto the ground.

She couldn’t believe it. This was working too well. Since when did a suspect obey to this extent?

Where he was lying, a bit of extra moonlight illuminated most of his body… and the reason why he had been so cooperative.

Sticking straight out of his back was a second arrow. The source of the other whooshing sound she had heard.

If this was, indeed, the guy named Snake, the one who had killed Polly Coulter… he wasn’t groveling just to please her. He hadn’t fallen on his face because her marvelously brilliant ruse had finally worked.

As much as Savannah hated to admit it, the Snake had hit the dirt because… he was dead.

“You killed him! Damn, Van, what’d you go and do that
X
for?” Dirk stood over Snake’s body, looking, if possible, more distressed than the corpse.

“I didn’t kill him, you dork,” she said. “Do you think I traded in my Beretta for a bow and arrows?”

“So, what happened?” Jake said, shining his flashlight on the shaft that protruded from the body’s back.

“You had a flashlight?” Savannah asked, indignant. “And you didn’t offer to share it?”

Jake looked only slightly ashamed. “Hey, I remembered to bring one. If you forgot, that’s not my fault. Besides, we were going into the dark woods and you—”

“And as it turned out, I did, too. I even got shot!”

“Shot?” Dirk grabbed the light away from Jake and shined it in the region of her chest. “Where? Are you all right?”